There was a bit of a British Invasion going on in the mid '90s with all sorts of cheeky British geezers breaking big on our shores. Oasis was the biggest of the lot. Brash, arrogant, unaware, this was my answer to all that rubbish. From RW#7, 1996:
Now You See Them, Soon You Won't
Now You See Them, Soon You Won't
Interviewed by JOEY GERM
Do you know why we Americans love British Rockers so much? Well do you? Is it because they're cocky, arrogant, bastards? No. Is it because of their syrupy, poppy, Britpop, pop music, pop? Nope. Could it be that they piss us off? Yeah, we like limey rockers 'cause they piss us off. The latest British sensation to barely dent this nation's music charts is the Manchester quartet, Mirage. The arrogance of this band, in spite of their mediocre talent, would seem to be their only appeal. Believing this to be true, we sent ace Wiglar reporter, Joey T. Germ, to a recent Mirage concert at the Budweiser Memorial Riverfront Stadium in St. Louis to chat with the lads, and nobody dislikes the English more than Joey Germ, except maybe the French.
RW: Hey guys, Joey Germ, Reglar Wiglar, I'm here for the interview.
Brad: Good day to you, sir. Would you care for a spot of tea?
Joel: We've got scones. Would you care for a scone?
RW: Thanks. You know, I've never had a scone before.
Nick: I'm sorry mate, but you're Joey who? From what deli?
Peter: Did you bring my chips? My frenchies, not those flat round things.
RW: I'm Joey Germ, your manager set up an interview with my magazine . . . The Reglar Wiglar.
Peter: (whispering) It's the Yankee Press, mates.
Nick: Err, yeah, roight. Listen you twat, if you think we've got time to lay around and chat with the likes of a silly ninny like you who writes for some crappy two pence music magazine that nobody reads . . . well, we've got a couple minutes then.
RW: Jeez, for a second there I thought you guys were gonna be cool and nobody was gonna have to get their ass kicked.
Nick: If you don't mind, mate, if we could get this interview underway, being this obnoxious for an extended period of time really drains me creative energy.
RW: Ok, then. Seems like you guys are in some kind of musical battle with your fellow countrymen, Blemish. Has there always been that kind of rivalry between British bands or just ones that are trying to cash in on retro trends?
Peter: Wankers, all of 'em.
Nick: We're a bunch of geezers and they're a bunch of bloody silly twats now aren't they?
RW: I don't know
Peter: Well, believe us mate, they're a bunch of silly twats and wankers.
RW: I gather then that you guys aren't a bunch of silly twats and wankers 'cause being an American I'm having a hard time drawing a distinction here.
Nick: We're geezers and they're silly twats.
RW: And for that you hate each other?
Peter: 'At's roight. We didn't grow up having our bums wiped for us like that lot did.
Nick: I never had me bum wiped for me.
Peter: Maybe up to a certain age, but not after I was out of me diapers that's for bloody sure.
RW: So you guys had it pretty rough growing up in working class Britain then?
Nick: You better bloody believe we did. What we had we had to nick from the rich.
Peter: I remember back when we was little nippers, Nick had to nick our knickers.
Nick: 'At's roight, I forgot about that, I had to nick our britches, our Mum was so poor. That's why we got the attitudes we got, 'cause we had to nick our britches 'cause our Mum was so poor.
RW: You guys have been sued several times for ripping off other peoples' melodies and using them on your own records and then putting your names on the song writing credits. Can you tell me about that?
Peter: Yeah, there 'ave been lawsuits but wot the fock? Musicians always borrow from other artists. There's nuthin' wrong with 'at is there? If I hear a catchy melody on the radio or on the telly and I want to use it in one of my own ditties then where's the 'arm in 'at, eh?
RW: Yeah, but a Pringle's jingle? How could a potato chip commercial inspire you to write a rock song?
Nick: First of all, mate, I fockin' love Pringles awroight? Secondly, it's a catchy bloody song now init? Thirdly, in Britain it ain't about rock, it's about the hook and the melody. It's about pop.
Peter: That's what you Yanks don't get. You try to destroy the melody. You massacre it with distortion and noise. Bloody fockin' garbage the lot of it and then you fail to see the beauty in a little ditty 'bout a chip.
RW: Why didn't you rip off a soda 'pop' commercial then?
Peter: We thought about 'at.
Nick: Better lawyers Pepsi's got, 'aven't they?
RW: Somethin' to think about for your next album. It has also been widely publicized that your band has a fondness for drugs, especially cocaine, and that your appetite for illicit drugs is something you're quite vocal about.
Peter: I love me drugs mate. Love 'em. love 'em, love, love 'em, love.
RW: What kind of drugs are you into?
Nick: What kind of drugs are we into? Hmm, let me think. We like whizz, skag, draw, eckies and the lot like that.
Peter: We do drugs constantly.
RW: Cool, you got any on you right now?
Peter: Sorry mate, ain't got no drugs. Not roight now.
Nick: Were gonna get some though.
Peter: Yeah, we gotta talk to this one guy.
Nick: Yeah, this one guy is gonna get us some.
Peter: Later though. Sorry.
RW: Nick and Peter, since you two seem to be the only band members allowed to talk let me ask you—
Peter: It's not that Joel and Brad aren't allowed to talk, Joey, it's just that they 'ave a real 'ard time comin' off as being loutish and rude and it just don't mix well with the loutish and rude image we got.
RW: I see. I just wanted to ask you and Nick about the sibling rivalry between you two. What about the family feuds you two have had on and off stage?
Peter: Well, they all start out innocently enough. Nick might miss a change in a song and come in a couple of measures late and consequently I'll have to walk over and give him a good swift kick in his arse.
Nick: Roight, and sometime Peter will start a song so bloody fast and completely out of time that I'll 'ave to slap him in his silly balding 'ead.
Peter: Roight, and another example would be that time when Nick's microphone wasn't working during our performance on "Top of the Pops" and in the middle of the song Nick walks over and takes me microphone. Consequently, I 'ad to wrap the microphone cord 'round his bleeding neck and start choking the cheeky bastard.
Nick: And when I caught you in the pub trying to shag my ex-wife, I had to break that fockin' bottle of ale o'er your friggin' 'ead. Fifty-three stitches you got, eh?
Peter: I think 'at's roight, sib.
RW: Well guys, it's been a pleasure chatting with you all, but I got to catch a bus. Sorry I won't be able to stick around and see your show but there's a one hour episode of "Friends" on tonight, so I gotta run.
Brad: Thanks for stopping by, mate. Sorry you couldn't stay.
Joel: It was a pleasure chatting with you.
Nick: Hey mate, what publication did you day you write for? Was it Spin or Rolling Stone? Not that we give a bloody fock,you understand.
RW: The Reglar Wiglar.
Nick: Oh, roight. Send us a copy of the interview then if you would. Not that we buy into any of that crap, or care what you write 'bout us, you know.
RW: Sure. See yah. God Save the Queen.