Tony Wilson Interview, 1984 NME
AT FIRST GLANCE Factory boss Tony Wilson always prompts the question: what is he doing in this business?
The answer might come back, “playing it like a game ot Russian roulette".
But even such rapier reflexes and the knowledge that he first put The Sex Pistols. Buzzcocks, Blondie and countless others on television does not disguise the fact he has always looked painfully out of place in the world of pop.
TV being a cruel medium — and that goes especially for pop TV — his awkwardness was highlighted when he devised and presented Granada's groundbreaking So It Goes, which followed the tradition of Manchester's magazine programme What's On in documenting and spreading the word of punk.
Yet, standing dead centre ot all this screen chaos he was encouraging, in his mid-20s and so obviously a Granada man was Tony Wilson, his straw coloured hair parted to one side and unfashionably covering his ears — then the best ears in TV pop — wearing a godawful murky coloured leather jacket.
To his credit he has never attempted to cover up who or what he was. That was the problem of his detractors, who turned out to be his own generation, not the people So It Goes was aimed at. Contempt is mutual.
“I hate my generation," Tony Wilson remarks forcefully. "I loathe and detest them with a real anger. When I did So It Goes my generation turned on me with a disgust; I'd go to concerts and people would sneer at me. And at those sort of parties where people would play Bob Marley all night, with a touch of The Rolling Stones, there would be an enormous hostility towards me.
“And suddenly punk came along, after which young people would come up to me at concorts and say. thanks for putting Elvis Costello on.
Other people would say, aren't you getting a bit old for this stuff? But there's a whole generation of people such as McLaren, Rhodes, Bob Last, Daniel Miller and myself, all in their '30s, who punk revitalised. I'm sure that, like me, they feel totally separated from their generation.
"Now, whether kids like or dislike me in Manchester, they remember I put The Sex Pistols on."
After Granada took him off So It Goes and put him through World In Action and regional TV shows, he kept in touch by managing A Certain Ratio, for whom he established the first Factory Club and, shortly after with ex-actor Alan Erasmus, Factory Records as their outlets.
Their company encouraged him to shave his hair back above the ears, giving him a welcome invisibility that enables him to shift more easily between spheres.
As he is presently juggling three careers — Factory boss, Granada TV man and trade unionist — such chameleon characteristics have become essential.
In London on union business he drops in at Cafe Bohn for this interview before knocking on designer Peter Saville's door to chivvy him about the sleeve of New Order's next single 'Thieves Like Us'. Unsurprisingly he is breathless when he arrives, but this does not inhibit his flow of words, spoken with a slight Mancunian tint.
A SCENE you'd probably like to see but won't get the chance to is the sight of Tony Wilson lying naked in a bathtub discussing politics with New Order's Gillian Gilbert.
Gillian, it should be said, is more properly attired in a white dress; for it is Tony Wilson who is being put on the spot. Thus he must be seen as a man with nothing to hide.
“What are you doing with those swimming trunks on?" storms New Order s manager Rob Gretton, who is conducting the sequence for an upcoming Channel 4 film about Factory. "Get 'em off! Realism! Realism!"
Though the film — to be screened shortly — is more an internal investigation by New Order than an external examination of Factory's operations, truth in all its glistening wet nakedness is evidently still the goal.
The scene has been sadly cut from the finished product, but we can still bring you the conversation, albeit refracted through Tony's memory. It went something like this.
“We were talking about politics, blah blah blah when Gillian asked me, what are our politics? So I said. I'll give you an example. Why don't you have your name on the cover of Power, Corruption And Lies'?
“She said, why should we?
“Well, then people would know it's the New Order record, making it easier for them to buy it.
“She said, what difference does it make?
“You'll sell more records, I responded.
"She said, we're not in it to sell records!
"I knew she was going to say that, so I said, believe me Gillian, that is being political. That simple statement on your behalf, that you're not in it to sell records, that's what the politics of Factory is. To me it sums up a lot...”
But is it really as simple as that? Perhaps it is easy to say you're not in it to sell records if, like Tony, you have a well paid day job with Granada Television or, like New Order, you've racked up half a million sales of a 12" single— 'Blue Monday' — but nevertheless Factory's philosophy began from such an uneconomic premise and they stand by it still.
Tony's dream was to establish Factory as an experiment in art and as an alternative marketing strategy.
Basically, this translates as presenting the consumer with the best package his money can buy. An elaborate artwork theoretically mirrors the quality of the record within. It would not be advertised, nor would it be promoted, apart from the most basic of industry servicing. Its quality should be enough to generate interest, so the argument goes, which would then spread word of mouth.
Anyway, this is Tony's dream. Nobody else is bound to it. Some, namely Joy Division/New Order, live well on it. Durutti Column and The Wake make a living from it. Early Factory frontrunners Section 25 and third generation Factory group Stockholm Monsters don't. With James, their latest release, it is too early to tell.
"Section 25's Larry is really the star of the forthcoming Channel 4 film," remarks Tony. “He's got a baby, right? His group made £1,000 from their first LP, but that's all gone. So he comes to Manchester desperately needing money and he sees all these people who would love to make money for him. But they have one slightly higher goal.
"He can see that we are trying to offer an alternative form of behaviour in the market place and we're not going to destroy that. It's not as if we're holding bands down to our positions. There are no contracts, groups have total freedom to do what they want...
"It's fascinating to hear Larry talk about his situation, because despite the desperation and frustration he does realise why we do it."
A nice dream, if you can afford it.
IS SUCH a state of independence still desirable, still viable?
When it was declared the music industry was in disarray, totally unable to cope with contemporary excitements. Nor could the majority of independents, which briefly flowered in punk's wake, leaving only the big three — Mute, Smiths' period Rough Trade and Factory still flourishing.
Factory were blessed with the world's most popular independent group in Joy Division and New Order — whose sales financially support the label, just as the group defined its identity; thus they were spared the need of soiling their hands. Where other independents took on the industry at their own game, Factory doggedly remained outside it all. Tony posits The Wake's case as justification enough of their position. Their mini LP 'Harmony' sold 6-7,000, made them some money and paid for itself.
"That's the reason why Bob Last (Fast Product, Human League manager), very impressively came back a year and a half ago and got involved with Daniel Miller and me over the political battles regarding the distribution network, the Cartel," says Tony.
“He always used to fly through Manchester in the early days yelling, you're doing it all wrong. We'd go fuck off, because what he obviously meant was, sell out. do everything, make a lot of money and then use it.
“Our argument has always been that it's historically proven that you sell out and make a lot of money, but by the time you get around to doing something with it, you've forgotten what it is you wanted to do with it in the first place.
“Well. Bob kind of proved me wrong, because he came back from America when Human League got very big to get involved with the Cartel again.
"I said, why the fuck are you doing this, you're a megaband now, what the fuck do you care? And Last really impressed me by saying, we'd created this market where a band could sell 3,000 records. If it dies we'll be back in the old area of either selling zilch or 100,000. If I ever find a nice young band at this level. I'm gonna want to come back and find that structure to still be there."
But is it really as simple as that? Perhaps it is easy to say you're not in it to sell records if, like Tony, you have a well paid day job with Granada Television or, like New Order, you've racked up half a million sales of a 12" single— 'Blue Monday' — but nevertheless Factory's philosophy began from such an uneconomic premise and they stand by it still.
Tony's dream was to establish Factory as an experiment in art and as an alternative marketing strategy.
Basically, this translates as presenting the consumer with the best package his money can buy. An elaborate artwork theoretically mirrors the quality of the record within. It would not be advertised, nor would it be promoted, apart from the most basic of industry servicing. Its quality should be enough to generate interest, so the argument goes, which would then spread word of mouth.
Anyway, this is Tony's dream. Nobody else is bound to it. Some, namely Joy Division/New Order, live well on it. Durutti Column and The Wake make a living from it. Early Factory frontrunners Section 25 and third generation Factory group Stockholm Monsters don't. With James, their latest release, it is too early to tell.
"Section 25's Larry is really the star of the forthcoming Channel 4 film," remarks Tony. “He's got a baby, right? His group made £1,000 from their first LP, but that's all gone. So he comes to Manchester desperately needing money and he sees all these people who would love to make money for him. But they have one slightly higher goal.
"He can see that we are trying to offer an alternative form of behaviour in the market place and we're not going to destroy that. It's not as if we're holding bands down to our positions. There are no contracts, groups have total freedom to do what they want...
"It's fascinating to hear Larry talk about his situation, because despite the desperation and frustration he does realise why we do it."
A nice dream, if you can afford it.
IS SUCH a state of independence still desirable, still viable?
When it was declared the music industry was in disarray, totally unable to cope with contemporary excitements. Nor could the majority of independents, which briefly flowered in punk's wake, leaving only the big three — Mute, Smiths' period Rough Trade and Factory still flourishing.
Factory were blessed with the world's most popular independent group in Joy Division and New Order — whose sales financially support the label, just as the group defined its identity; thus they were spared the need of soiling their hands. Where other independents took on the industry at their own game, Factory doggedly remained outside it all. Tony posits The Wake's case as justification enough of their position. Their mini LP 'Harmony' sold 6-7,000, made them some money and paid for itself.
"That's the reason why Bob Last (Fast Product, Human League manager), very impressively came back a year and a half ago and got involved with Daniel Miller and me over the political battles regarding the distribution network, the Cartel," says Tony.
“He always used to fly through Manchester in the early days yelling, you're doing it all wrong. We'd go fuck off, because what he obviously meant was, sell out. do everything, make a lot of money and then use it.
“Our argument has always been that it's historically proven that you sell out and make a lot of money, but by the time you get around to doing something with it, you've forgotten what it is you wanted to do with it in the first place.
“Well. Bob kind of proved me wrong, because he came back from America when Human League got very big to get involved with the Cartel again.
"I said, why the fuck are you doing this, you're a megaband now, what the fuck do you care? And Last really impressed me by saying, we'd created this market where a band could sell 3,000 records. If it dies we'll be back in the old area of either selling zilch or 100,000. If I ever find a nice young band at this level. I'm gonna want to come back and find that structure to still be there."
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