A lot had been said about Mark E. Smith, the belligerent frontman of The Fall. Notoriously hard to please, he cuts an intimidating shape on the indoor stage of Summer Sundae. His bandmates can’t mask the fear that they’re being watched – all too knowing that they’re the latest in a long line of incidental session musicians that have helped Smith tot up his 28 studio albums.
He stalks across the stage in typically scrutinising fashion, fiddling with his band’s amps and constantly looking disappointed with them, and just about everything else. Lifting up the microphone, he snarls into it – the crowd are elated. This is what they paid their money for. Sometimes he even turns and faces them.
The relationship that Smith has with the average Fall fan is a curious one. Falling somewhere between sadomasochism and Stockholm syndrome, he looks upon his audience with derision, and they take the humiliation and demand more. A cigarette burn to the chest perhaps? Most probably dream about Mark E. Smith in knee high boots and a corset telling them to “take it”.
Not that The Fall weren’t brilliant, but the music has become a side attraction to Smith himself. And more’s the pity: ‘Your Future Our Clutter’ was brilliant. However there is no way to decontextualise the album from the phenomenon, the furore that has been created around Mark E. Smith. How The Fall play has become incidental, after 28 albums some would say that’s fair enough, however, I can’t help notice the tragic irony that Mark E. Smith has cluttered The Fall’s own future.
Words and Photo by Samuel Ballard
