The Stigma Remains The Same
February 2007

Hello again. It’s been a while since I last wrote, mainly because I have been getting the website sorted out. I hope you like the new design, and there will be more blogs and things to read about in 2007, so keep popping in.  But let’s crack on for now..

Some bands are born cool, some achieve coolness and some have coolness thrust upon them. There are some, however, that simply never quite tap into the zeitgeist and acquire the street cred popularity essential to the NME friendly music maker.

Marillion, are such a band. Now, for those who don’t know the story, they began in the early 80s as a pseudo Genesis prog rock outfit, fronted by the towering charismatic Scotsman Fish. They scored a handful of major hits including Kayleigh and Lavender, and released a succession albums, most notably 1986’s Misplaced Childhood.

To everyone but the spottiest, denim clad public schoolboy, Marillion (named after Tolkien’s Silmarillion) were the epitome of anti cool. Already older than the average chart topping bands -  and decidedly uglier – they stubbornly ploughed their own kitsche prog rock 70s furrow of concept albums, illustrated album covers and 10 minute instrumental passages.

Europe, especially, loved them. And so did I. Yes, at the ‘cool’ end of my collection I had my Dylan, Neil Young,  Richard Thompson and even  Alex Chilton albums. But Marillion had their place, and had earned it through sheer dogged stubbornness. They had a formula and it worked. The logo, the album covers, the presence of Fish, the effortless grace of their musicianship and – now get this – some great tunes, played with a decent handle on prog rock dynamics. Hey, what’s not to like? Well, quite a lot, judging by the dwindling sales, the laughable reputation and scathing hatred from the music inkies. By 1990, Fish had had enough and left to pursue a faltering and now, completely stalled, solo career.

So why, am I telling you all this?  Well, guess where I went last week. That’s right, to see a Marillion gig. As it happens, the band didn’t split after Fish left, they recruited a new singer in Steve Hogarth and carried on making albums that failed to worry the UK charts, but managed to maintain their popularity in Europe.

Now, I have some of those albums, and with interest I read the reviews of them when they come out.  Very few of them manage to get through 100 words without mentioning Fish (the band have been together twice as long without him now), their hit Kayleigh (which they haven’t played live for more than 15 years), or the fact that they are so uncool.

Well, are they? When Fish left, the band underwent significant changes. Cosmetically, Hogarth was slimmer, better looking and more charming than the gruff Scot. The album covers changed dramatically – no more time warped illustrated themes and lyric-laden gatefolds. After all, we were now firmly in the CD age.  Of course, many of the songs were still 10 minutes long, but hey, you don’t fuck with the music.

And in this new package, the music took on a fresh ambience. All of a sudden it wasn’t Genesis you could hear between the lines, but the far more culturally accepted colours of Radiohead and Jeff Buckley. Ok, it might not have been quite in that class, but it was good and, crucially, it didn’t sound old.  But does anyone care anymore?

In 1988 I  saw Marillion at Wembley Arena, packed to the rafters with 10,000 adoring bum fluffed fans. Last week, they were playing the Koko in Camden which barely holds a tenth of that figure.

 It seems that, although the song has changed, the stigma has not.

Adam