When my alarm goes off there’s always a momentary sense of discombobulation as I awake, upside-down in my belfry. Quickly dropping to the floor, I exchange my Scooby-Doo pyjamas for an outfit of darkest, deepest midnight and chrome tipped winklepickers. From there I head downstairs into the main body of the ruined church and have my toast and jam* and a coffee; black.
After catching up on all the latest bad news it’s time for me to head off to work. Trudging through the mist-shrouded graveyard, wrapping my cloak of darkest satin around me I make my way to the crown of a nearby hill. Long regarded as a place of ill omen by locals I stand amidst the ancient druidic ruins, face to the wind, braving the rain and think deep, romantically doomed thoughts about death, God, candles, angels and darkness. The rain drips from the brim of my hat onto my unfeasibly pointy shoes.
My name is 1537 and I am, pretty much, still a teenage goth at heart.
There's a crystal view from my window And I can see the years to come I live for the burn and the sting of pleasure I live for the sword, the steel, and the gun I can tear down the walls, storm the barricades Run to the place where the frightened crawl Desire lurks beyond good and evil So I dance on the graves where the hallowed fall Over this land All over this wasteland
Oh yes, The Mission God’s Own Medicine. This really is a good shot of God’s own and a real blast back into 1986. Well, late 1987 for me because I have always been a bit slow on the uptake and the Towy Valley was never a hot bed of goth. My way into the cult of the gothic was via, umm, the Cult**, seeing Sisters Of Mercy on Top Of The Pops and having an over-sensitive teenage imagination.
I knew none of the Mission’s background before I fell for a roughly 9th generation taped copy of God’s Own Medicine fell my way, via a friend’s brother. Once Wayne Hussey and Craig Adams were booted out of prime era Sisters Of Mercy by Evil Andy E, they were robbed of the use of the name the Sisterhood and formed as the Mission, adding Simon Hinkler and Mick Brown to their ranks.
The Mission were a different strand of goth, tacking towards classic rock in their sound^. Hussey was an excellent guitarist and Adams’ bass playing managed to be both supple and strong. Getting John Paul Jones in as producer was a tell, but then all gothic rock began in the drama and esotericism of ‘Kashmir’.
I still believe in God but God no longer believes in me
God’s Own Medicine kicks down the doors with ‘Wasteland’ and straight away it is perfect; widescreen, overwrought and urgent, all the while while straddling that whole portentous/pretentious divide that I love so much. The music painting a landscape (windswept, desolate etc. (natch)) before our very earsies. Then when it accelerates into ‘Bridges Burning’ I just start to levitate and do that gothy finger-dancing thing that just comes so naturally to me. For a bunch of gloom hawks the Mission don’t half offer you a good time.
Another long time favourite is ‘Garden Of Delight (Hereafter)’ which is a bit like ‘Eleanor Rigby’ would be if it was all about shagging. No string players are credited on the album, oddly, but big kudos to producer Tim Palmer who creates/curates a great string sound on this one.
As I’m all about the positives, I’ll skip a few and jump straight into ‘Sacrilege’ which is a pumping bass-driven, vitriolic banger, very Sisters Of Mercy; Hussey even sings it in a slightly lower register too. The lyrics are pure sixth-form poetry and all the better for it too:
Tarot strewn across the floor Fate creeps under the creaking door Say farewell to the salad days Arms held out for the needle haze
The next real highlight on God’s Own Medicine is ‘And The Dance Goes On’, which is another bitter sexy one, exactly the sort of thing I wanted to listen to while preparing to break up with girlfriends I hadn’t asked out yet. I rather like the ‘talking dirty, sitting pretty’ line and the way that the song slows slightly into the chorus.
It was the law that every goth band worth their salt had a girl’s name song, it was vital – otherwise how would your black-clad followers know what to call their kittens? the Mission’s was ‘Severina’ and it really is a belter. It got the biggest cheer when I saw them live, it really got those fingers dancing proud. It really ticks all the boxes too.
- Hopeful tone, despite inevitable doomed nature of romance. Tick.
- Casual Aleister Crowley references. Tick.
- Reference to named chick dancing. Tick.
- Ethereal backing vox^^. Tick.
- Obligatory mentions of ‘moonlight’ and ‘moonchild’. Tick.
The LP closer ‘Love Me To Death’ is another good, resigned tune too. I had forgotten how much I liked Hussey as a vocalist as well as such a lyrical guitarist.
God’s Own Medicine has stood the test of time very well, potentially assisted by my own arrested development. Let’s face it elegantly wasted tight waisted young men singing about impossible loves, hedonism and mysticism never goes out of style; especially when they wear shades at night and floppy shirts. The fact that, according to legend, the Mission were the biggest bunch of piss heads and enthusiastic followers of chemistry on the scene at the time just adds to the legend and explains why you never get a sense that they were taking themselves too seriously^*.
Musically they have a great wide-open sound and an effortless way of creating a mood within a single bar. Listening now Craig Adams is the stand-out player to me, his bass alternately driving or sinuously wrapping itself around each track. It’s great stuff.
Unfortunately God’s Own Medicine falls foul of one of my most hatey hatiest of pet hates, shit graphic design in respect of using colours you can’t actually see writing against. Case in point the back cover where you cannot read the song titles AND the inner sleeve where the credits are illegible, as is whatever pretentious quotation/invocation they put there too. I have also tried reading it in a graveyard at night using a candle made from a dead man’s hand, it didn’t work and I got a cough.
The front cover is ace though.
1155 Down.
PS: because you can never have enough men in hats, shades and fancy shirts staring into the distance:
*black cherry, obvs, Nothing too gaudy.
**Love and their LP as Southern Death Cult. Their new, excellent Under The Midnight Sun album is why I pulled this one from the shelves of joy.
^covering Neil Young & Crazy Horse’s ‘Like A Hurricane’ for an early single.
^^provided by All About Eve’s Julianne Reagan for extra goth bonus points.
^*very much an occupational hazard for goths.
I know the band name but the tunes are new to me.
Time to dust off a couple of these records. They still sound like the band i listened to. Thanks for keeping me in the music loop
Nothing better for a rainy, windy day CB. Especially if you’re keen on staring nobly into the distance.
How about “staring nobly” at my navel.
‘A Bible Belt of the Best Goth Around’ has to be the best magazine slugline ever. Don’t think I’ve ever listened to The Mission but I’d defs buy a bottle of God’s Own Medicine as long as the ingredients list states which gods’ essences are invovled.
PS. The ‘More on WordPress’ under this is a hoot. “Experiencing the Goth Subculture” with Vamp Jenn and Ariyanna W telling us about God’s restoration. I’m going to contact her about the bad pluming in our second bathroom to see if she can help.
I know what a tagline Bruce!
‘God’s Own Medicine has stood the test of time very well, potentially assisted by my own arrested development.’ Cool.
I never really got into The Mission back then. I can’t figure out why.