Shortlisted for the Penderyn Music Book Prize A Rough Trade Book of the Year A Resident Book of the Year A Monorail Book of the Year A Virgin Radio Book of the Year
In 1986, the NME released a cassette that would shape music for years to come. A collection of twenty-two independently signed guitar-based bands, C86 was the sound and ethos that defined a generation. It was also arguably the point at which 'indie' was born.
But what happened next to all those musical dreamers?
Some of the bands, like Primal Scream, went on to achieve global stardom; others, such as Half Man Half Biscuit and The Wedding Present, cultivated lifelong fanbases that still sustain their careers today. Then there were the rest - the ones who endured general indifference from the record-buying public and ultimately returned to civvy street.
Now, thirty-five years on, journalist Nige Tassell tracks down the class of C86, unearthing members of all twenty-two bands and sharing the stories, both tragic and uplifting, of these long-lost musicians.
Told with warmth, compassion and humour, this is a very human account of ambition, hope, varying degrees of talent and what happens after you give up on music - or, more accurately, after music gives up on you. It's a world populated by bike-shop owners, dance-music producers, record-store proprietors, ornithologists, driving instructors, solicitors, caricaturists and possibly even an Olympic sailor. And let's not forget the musician-turned-actor gainfully employed as Jeremy Irons' body double...
More than simply the tale of the tape, Whatever Happened to the C86 Kids? is an exploration of C86's wide-reaching and often surprising legacy.
Unless the C86 cassette—a selection of songs from influential / mediocre / underrated indie bands compiled by the NME in 1986—provided a musical awakening, some of the tales of former band members now working as teachers or ambulance drivers or record executives might not be the most stimulating read. And the somewhat precious recollections of some of the ex-members still “dabbling” in their studios can indeed seem a little cringe-inducing. On the whole, Nige Tassell’s sincere and warm-hearted quest provides a very engaging glimpse into a brief period when British indie music was at a crossroads. The recurring theme is the patronage of John Peel, without whose insatiable appetite for new off-kilter music, most of these bands would never have recorded a single EP. In the case of the mediocre bands (Bogshed, Fuzzbox, Age of Chance), Peel’s enthusiasm kept untalented egos recording for far too long, in the case of the underrated ones (Big Flame, McCarthy, Shop Assistants), Peel’s enthusiasm helped them cultivate cult followings as the bands struggled to survive while the Madchester era began to dominate British indie. The Wedding Present, Primal Scream, and Half Man Half Biscuit all went on to have long recording careers and produce stunning bodies of work—however, it’s worth checking out the cassette for the brilliant songs from Mighty Mighty, Stump, The Mighty Lemon Drops, Big Flame, and The Pastels.
A good book, this - a revisit of 22 bands who were on an NEM compilation tape released in 1986. Not a tape I ever listened to and I only knew a few of the participants. However, the book is well written, has a deeply personal touch via interviews with as many members as the author could find. What runs large through the book is how carefree pretty much all the artists were in the late 80's and how many carried that freedom through to their later lives. Most now are balding / greying (or bald) guys not in the industry but they've all got that edge still there from their youth. It's enough to make you feel old...
A little different today - this review is written by my husband!
For those who aren’t aware (or old enough) the C86 was a cassette that the New Musical Express (a music paper) released in 1986, that had the intention of representing the state of independent music in the UK, across 22 tracks by 22 bands. Thirty five years later the book chronicles Nige’s attempts to track down those bands to find out the impact the cassette had on their burgeoning music careers & what they’ve been up to since.
In 1986 I was the tender age of 15 & had zero knowledge of the C86 cassette, but by ‘87 I started really getting into the independent music scene & became aware of the term C86. As detailed in the book it referred to a certain type of music; jangly guitars, played almost exclusively by young white males with bad haircuts. I think it was meant to be an insult, but I absolutely loved these bands & as a result was aware of the musical artefact they had appeared on. I think I still own records (up in the loft) of at least half the bands mentioned.
Not wanting to give the game away but Nige manages to track down someone from all 22 acts who all reveal anecdotes from those long ago days. Some are still playing in bands, some are in the same band, some have left the music business altogether. Sadly a couple have already slipped off this mortal coil.
I’m guessing the book had a fairly niche audience but I found it hugely enjoyable and also it led me to explore some of the bands that I didn’t know so well, with the help of Spotify.
I would have liked Nige to have asked Bobby Gillespie, of Primal Scream, about his recollections of the C86 version of the band, although I don’t think he’d have got a positive response! Also I wish he’d asked The Bodines to reissue their album - I’m not paying 50 quid for the original!
An indie-pop odyssey best read with a Spotify playlist open, and your teenage dreams engaged. Nige Tassell tracks down band members from the 22 groups featured on the the NME's 1986 compilation tape C86. Yes, this might be niche, but it's an interesting tale, as Tassell discovers the afterlives - some predictable and some wildly unexpected - of young indie popsters, 35 years on. Tassell's style is effortlessly easygoing; he's like your best and most interesting friend telling you down the boozer how you'll never guess what happened to that kid from your sixth form. Great stuff.
Nige tracks down at least one member of each band that appeared on the infamous C86 compilation album. It's a simple premise for a book - what makes it such an interesting read is uncovering the stories that came next. The bands that stayed together and still write songs, the ones who fall apart and no longer know if their ex-band members are even alive. Very few still make a living from music and the range of jobs they now have is the result of a careers officer having several strong coffees and randomly shouting titles from a work directory. Music is the common thread but the book's really about how you replace it when real life encroaches. These bands felt so cool and untouchable to me as a teen - now I'm older I can relate to their various struggles and the odd paths their lives take them down. The book deconstructs the imagined glamour of life in a Peel session / NME single of the week / top 10 indie chart hit band to the point where you feel almost fatherly to the young groups of 36 years ago. In the interests of fairness I should point out that I make a brief cameo in the Bodine's chapter - and that's obviously the best bit of a brilliant book.
Noe av det smaleste jeg har lest på en god stund. Hørte bandene i takt med lesningen. Forbløffende få bra låter på en samling så viktig for den musikken jeg elsker i dag.
In 1986, along with many other dedicated NME readers, I sent off for their latest cassette compilation. I had them all. Every one. Didn't matter what the genre, I was all in. This one, C86, went on to define an era and probably marks the moment "indie" music was born. The independent chart had been going for some time but indie the genre ultimately became synonymous with white guitar pop.
Nige Tassell's book consists of a chapter devoted to all 22 artists who appeared on the tape, sticking to the original running order, and speaking with at least one person from each group. I love this sort of thing. 35 years later, he unearths many surprising and varied stories. Primal Scream went on to have a successful career. Half Man Half Biscuit and Wedding Present are still going strong, sustained by passionate and devoted fanbases. Others still have a link to the music industry however most are now firmly to be found on Civvy Street doing something unrelated.
This is a very sympathetic account and is both a snapshot in time and an account of what happens after giving up on music. It's a wonderful, life reaffirming exploration of C86's surprisingly wide-reaching legacy.
4/5
In 1986, the NME released a cassette that would shape music for years to come. A collection of twenty-two independently signed guitar-based bands, C86 was the sound and ethos that defined a generation. It was also arguably the point at which 'indie' was born.
But what happened next to all those musical dreamers?
Some of the bands, like Primal Scream, went on to achieve global stardom; others, such as Half Man Half Biscuit and the Wedding Present, cultivated lifelong fanbases that still sustain their careers thirty-five years later. Then there were the rest, who ultimately imploded in a riot of paisley shirts, bad drugs and general indifference from the record-buying public.
Now, for the first time, music journalist Nige Tassell tracks down the class of C86 and recounts their stories, both tragic and uplifting.
Yet, while the pursuit of long-lost musicians can often manifest as earnest hagiography, Tassell's unique, light-hearted approach makes this a very human story of ambition, hope, varying degrees of talent and what happens after you give up on pop - or, more precisely, after pop gives up on you. It's a world populated by bike-shop owners, architecture professors, dance-music producers, record-store proprietors, birdwatchers, solicitors, caricaturists and even a possible Olympic sailor - and let's not forget the musician-turned-actor gainfully employed as Jeremy Irons' body double…
Following on from the cult success of C81, NME or anyone else couldn’t possibly have predicted just how seminal their C86 compilation cassette would become. But even today, nearly forty years on a whole generation and then some, know exactly what you mean when you say the words C86.
And yet with it being a media creation, it was the very same media who would later queue up to attack and ridicule any bands who they later deemed to be “C86”, when they had decided that musical trends had changed. So it’s important to not let too much revisionism creep in or try to simplify a more complex history of things. Either way the audio snapshot of that era eventually grew into an enduring legacy.
It’s really interesting to see the challenges and problems that each band had before, during and after C86, some complain of too much freedom, others of too much control, some sought mainstream, pop success, others were happy to remain obscure. We really get a broad range of personalities too, those who remain proud of their contribution and others who wish to distance themselves from it and are determined not to be defined by it.
One common complaint which seems to afflict most of these acts, was how unhappy they were with the choice of song they put on the compilation. Most insist that they thought it would be more along the lines of C81, which was released to celebrate five years of the Rough Trade label and the wider Independent music scene in the UK in general. So most of the bands approached it with low-expectations, believing that this set-up would be along the same lines in terms of audience and impact. But of course hindsight is always 20/20 and no one was to know just how significant and popular the tape would become.
Some ended up in the arts and academia others found themselves in retail or the corporate world, and a few are still playing to this day. Some are embarrassed by their connection and others incredibly proud. Some didn’t even want to speak of their experience, whilst others were only too happy to reflect and then there were those who are no longer here.
So this is a thoroughly enjoyable little odyssey and this book makes a great pairing with Simon Reynolds’ “Rip It Up”. Tassell has done a fine job, his informal and relaxed style works really well and this makes for a great trip down memory lane for fans of the era or an ideal introduction to newcomers, into one of the most important Indie albums to be released in the UK in the 80s.
Nige Tassell is an author who has impressed me before – I very much enjoyed his book, The Bottom Corner about lower league soccer, so I was pleased to see he had turned his hand to writing about another obsession of mine. I spent most of the mid to late 1980s obsessing over indie pop (springing from a love of Smiths-style jangle) but never actually heard the seminal C86 tape that could be ordered from the NME in its entirety until it was released on CD in 2014. I gave the album a spin while reading a book and despite a few utter classics (Primal Scream’s opener Velocity Girl, The Bodines’ Therese, it actually doesn’t hold up that well.
One of the reasons for this is that a majority of the bands regret the choice of track they put forward and failed to suggest their best work – McCarthy, a brilliant outfit in general, are a case in point. These tales of ruefulness are told amusingly as Tassell travels the length and breadth of the UK to track the participants down. The range of odd jobs is large even if Half Man, Half Biscuit, the Wedding Present and the aforementioned Primals went on to lasting fame of various degrees. There is little in the way of beef with most of the people interviewed showing true graciousness in looking back on a fleeting moment of modest fame. That could make for a boring book but we are thankfully spared any Morrissey-style spite and Tassell’s enthusiasm for the subject shines through.
This is a book for those of us, now in our late 50s or early 60s, who grew up devouring the NME as a means of nurturing our music tastes as well as broader cultural interests. It may also help to be male, perhaps? There is a ‘there but for the grace of God’ poignancy to the tales of the lives and lifestyles of the band members that Tassell has sought out in compiling this labour of love. For me, the most interesting life stories are those former band members for whom music was just a side interest in life and the regrets they express for not being more serious. As we enter our sixth decades of life, regret is something that is highly relatable.
Another "where are they now?" book, like Exit Stage Left: The Curious Afterlife of Pop Stars from the same year. Despite never having heard the original tape (I was a Melody Maker reader, and at the time I was mainly listening to pop), this was an interesting tour of life on the edges of the music industry. A surprising number of those interviewed are still involved in music somehow.
This one is for ... hmm. I've always thought there was a book to be written about what happened to all the indie rock non-stars of the 90s and 00s and maybe 80s too. Well, this book isn't it. Just some random details about what the bands did back then and what the musicians have done since. Not much digging into what the musicians are like as people or whatever. Disappointing.
Mixed bag really. The detective work in finding them was interesting but for most of the bands it was person X is now older / fatter / balder which isn't a massive surprise. The best bits were probably where one person in the band recalled an amazing democracy and the ex-member told a different story...
I really enjoyed that. Most of the bands featured aren't around any more but you don't usually get to read about people who have failed to become famous and have gone to have normal jobs and lives. In fact, it's the stories about what happened after the interviewees left the music business that are the most interesting. Fascinating stuff.
A celebration of independently minded music and the musicians who made it. The spectre of John Peel looms large as Nige catches up with members of all 22 bands who supplied music for the compilation. Many lament their poor choices, but they all really loved what they did.
So many memories, so many bands and reading this book meant that there were quite a few that I want to listen to again. Very entertaining trip down memory lane.
Imagine a world where Thatcher's enterprise scheme worked with with late night radio 1 dj John Peel to enable great music or at least original music to flourish.