THE first time I interviewed Orange Juice was terrifying. I still bear the scars. Facing Edwyn Collins, James Kirk, David McClymont and Steven Daly must rank as one of the most intimidating encounters of my career in music journalism. The location was a dingy flat above a kebab shop in the West End of Glasgow. Orange Juice were promoting their 1980 debut single, Falling And Laughing, on indie label, Postcard Records. They wanted to talk. Or did they? Guitarist Kirk and bass player McClymont barely said a word. Singer Collins spoke on behalf of the band, his condescending brickbats expertly teed up by drummer Daly.
WHEN radio DJ John Peel sadly passed away in 2004, one of his many legacies was the welter of more than 4,000 radio sessions recorded exclusively for his late night radio show. Many more were recorded for Peel’s fellow BBC Radio 1 DJs, including Janice Long. While some of the artists behind the sessions went on to mainstream success, often the most interesting ones showcased were those who never crossed over, but whose work makes up what are arguably far more valuable artistic statements of their time. One of the conduits for that was Alan McGee’s Creation label, about to be immortalised in Creation Stories, the McGee-based biopic that premiered at this year’s Glasgow Film Festival. As with Peel, Creation similarly left behind a catalogue, which, in terms of cultural significance, went way beyond the hits.