ZZ: What was the UFO like for you? Was it as magical as legend now has it?

NM: It's got rosier with age, but there is a germ of truth in it, because for a brief moment it looked as though there might actually be some combining of activities. People would go down to this place, and a number of people would do a number of things, rather than simply one band performing. There would be some mad actors, a couple of light shows, perhaps the recitation of some poetry or verse, and a lot of wandering about and a lot of cheerful chatter going on.

RW: Mind you there were still freaks standing at the side of the stage screaming out that we sold out.

NM: Actually Roger, that was usually the other band. One night we played with a band called The Brothers Grimm and that night at least, it was either the band or their lady friends. I remember that well- because it hit hard.

ZZ: What about that other legend, The Great Technicolour Dream?

NM: Oh, that was a joke.

NM: That was the night we did East Deerham as well.

RW: I'll never forget that night. We did a double header that night. First of all we played to a roomful of about 500 gipsies, hurling abuse and fighting, and then we did Ally Pally.

NM: *We* certainly weren't legendary there. Arthur Brown was the one. That was his great launching.

RW: There was so much dope and acid around in those days that I don't think anyone can remember anything about anything.

The Trials Of Being A Hit Parade Group

Like many bands of that era, the marketing demands that Floyd'd music made on their record company were never really appreciated. Their music was treated in the same fashion that the company had hitherto employed for everyone else from Frank Sinatra to The Beatles. Nowhere was this fundamental ignorance of what 'progressive' music required, more evident than in the presure to have succesful singles, and related problems such as Juke Box Jury.

ZZ: What's the story behind Arnold Layne?

RW: Both my mothers and Syd's mother had students as lodgers, because there was a girls' college up the road. So there was constantly great lines of bras and knickers on our washing lines, and Arnold, or whoever he was, had bits and piecesof our washing lines. They never caught him. He stopped doing it after a bit- when things got too hot for him. Maybe he's moved to Cherry Lynton or Newnham possibly.

NM: Maybe he decided to give up and get into bank raids or something.

ZZ: What did you think of Peter Murray saying on Juke Box Jury that you were just a cult?

RW: Now he didn't say that. This is where the memory doesn't doesn't play tricks, because it will always remain crystal clear. [Menacingly] He said we were a con. He thought it was just contrived rubbish to meet some kind of unhealthy demand.

NM: We thought what we think now.

ZZ: Which is what?

RW: Well...the man's an idiot. A fifth rate idiot, and always has been.

ZZ: I remember David Jacobs or maybe it was Peter Murray saying about Little Stevie Wonder, that it was a disgrace the way the record company was exploiting his blindnes as a gimmick, and another time when he said in the tones of a magistrate, 'I understand that there is alot of psychedelic stuff in America, but I very much hope that it doesn't catch on here.'

NM: That's fantastic. That programme obviously had a great impact on people. The nice thing is that we can all remember it after all these years, and see that they've all been made to look very stupid.

RW: But both our singles were so bloody innocuous, there was nothing difficult about either of them.

NM: But people still say that. You know, 'I have to listen very carefuly, and I can just about understand the music.'

ZZ: You got hassled by the BBC a couple of times didn't you?

RW: We had to change all the lyrics in one song because it was about rolling joints, It was called 'Lets Roll Another One' and we had to change the title to 'Candy In A currant Bun' and it had lines in it like...

NM:...Tastes right if you eat it right.

RW: No, they didn't like that all, very under the arm.

ZZ: Doesn't thst contradict the image of the underground a bit, that you agreed?

NM: Christ no. We were a rock and roll band and if you're a rock and roll band and you got a record that you want to be number one, you get it played, and if they say take something out, or whatever, you do it. In fact what you do is exactly what was done- you make as much press about it as possible. You ring up the Evening Standard and say, 'Did you know the BBC won't play our record because it mentions your paper?'

RW: That line was changed to Daily Standard to appease them, but nobody heard it because it was such a lousy record.

ZZ: You used to slag off a lot of your records atthe time. You once described a record, 'It Would Be So Nice' as complete trash, and added that anyone who bought it needed to have their head looked at.

RW: [laughing] I think that's the truth.

NM: It was an awful record, wasn't it? At that period we had no direction. We were being hussled about to make hit singles. There's so many people saying it's important, you start to think it is important.

ZZ: Did you get upset by the failure of your subsequent singles?

NM: No. I cant' understand why actually, but we didn't.

ZZ: You never had a feeling that you were rubbish?- that maybe they were right?

NM: We may have thought that we weren't good musicians but we never thought that they were right. It's funny, but I never did feel that we'd had it when two singles slumped horribly- that it was all over. I don't know why not, because a number of people did think it was all over.

RW: Thee was only that single and 'Apples and Oranges'.

NM: And 'Point Me At The Sky'.

RW>: 'Apples and Oranges' was a very good song, and so was 'Point Me At The Sky'. I listened to it about a year ago, and in spite of the mistakes and the production I don't think it was that bad. 'Apples and Oranges' was destroyed by the production- it's a really good song.

NM: It could have done with more working out I think.

On The Road: Here And In America>

A Floyd gig, as everyone knows is a truly amazing experience- majestic music impeccably presented, and shaped with their own incomparable flair for drama and excitement. Some background information.

ZZ: Were the gigs in the early days really scary?

NM: No, not really, we got jolly annoyed but we weren't really scared. We just went on and on and on. We never said, 'Damn this, lets pack it in'. We just trudged around for a daily dose of broken bottle.

RW: Where was it that we actually had broken beer mugs smashing into the drum kit?

NM: East Deerham, and The California Ballroom, Dunstable.

RW: The California Ballroom Dunstable was the one where they were poruing pints of beer on to us from the balcony, that was most unpleasant, and very, very dangerous too.

NM: And things like the Top Rank suites wouldn't let us drink at the bar, which made us bloody angry. We always swore we would never go back, but we didn't keep to it.

ZZ: How much were you getting for that?

NM; 250 pounds, because we were a hit parade group and we could draw people.

RW: Went down after that to about a ton.

NM: No,it never went down that low Rog, maybe 135 pounds once or twice.

RW: Actually, I remember- the worst thing that ever happened to me was at The Feathers Club in Ealing, which was a penny, which made a bloody great cut in the middle of my forehead. I bled quite a lot. And I stood right at the front of the stage to see if I could see him throw one. I was glowering in a real rage and I was gonna leap out into the audience and get him. Happily, there was one freak who turned up who likes us, so the audience spent the whole night beating the shit out of him, and left us alone.

To Be Continued

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