Backstage at the Riverside Newcastle, sometime in the spring of 1990.
Somehow, I’ve snuck in,
tagging along with some loquacious ‘varsity types “who want an interview” with very popular
Oxford indie rockers Ride. I find myself sitting on the edge of a grotty leather sofa in a graffiti-
spattered space that feels like a dole office interview room. Singer Mark Gardener is drying his
hair, using the noise of the hairdryer to stop any conversation. Andy Bell looks at us, saying
nothing. Suddenly we are rumbled by the Riverside’s staff and find ourselves out of the door. One
of the ‘varsity beans – wearing a yarmulka-style hat that seemed to be all the rage for a brief while
– said something challenging about another Oxfordshire band who were about to play the Broken
Doll pub and who were, apparently, “better”. So far, so gauche. Not that this tale means anything;
more that the memory has stuck around in my consciousness as one of those grubby-fingered
snapshots of a weirdly indeterminate era that felt more like Mike Leigh’s Naked than the Idiot Joy
Showland that many would have us believe was a-happening all around us.
It was a good gig. I don’t remember the opening set from The Charlottes (outside that the girl at
the door had handwritten their name alongside Ride’s on the ticket in marker pen, as was the way
with Riverside tickets), but I do remember Ride being spectacular that night. Their sound, always
full and pugnacious on record, sounded massive in the fust and gloom of the famous Newcastle
club. If memory serves, ‘Seagull’, which turned out to be the opening track on their debut album,
ignited a loud and increasingly jubilant set. I also vaguely remember lots of well-heeled
wallflowers amongst the Riverside scruffs, cutting rug with abandon. There again, Newcastle
crowds at the time were famed for their enthusiasm. That year local gig goers seemed to get their
highs off the ultimate intoxicant, unbridled excitement. Clearly many still wanted to live in the
Funhouse built on the back of the Berlin wall coming down, acid house, and 1989’s summer tours
from the Stone Roses and Happy Mondays. Wry popsters The Sundays faced a gurning crowd that
tried repeatedly to vault a crash barrier (!) in order to further seal their devotions; a psyched-out
Charlatans put on a great show with UFO Club-style lighting; we got a blasting gig from the
fabulously theatrical Lush, where the audience seemed like they were on a combined hen and stag
do; and what looked like a kick-off on the Leazes End, when the arty Leeds act Pale Saints came to
town.
Yet, within a space of eight months things felt very different, with bands still trying to embody a
moment that had gone. Others looked as if they were disappearing into various scenes, the
opposite of the “music is music” mantra that drove many a young imagination in 1988-90. Others
- like Ride - had turned up and got their hooks into you for a while, and then somehow just melted
away. Attending gigs by Slowdive, Chapterhouse and Northside felt like a waste of my time, even
while I was in the room. Not that any were poor gigs, but the “future” promised to us so
persuasively the year before felt somewhere else; less grassroots and utopian, more defined by
the machinations of big indie labels or increasingly devoted musical sects. It all felt like a hiatus
until My Bloody Valentine or the Roses, or The Fall (surely The Fall) would release something. Was
I already beginning to be bored by it all, in that superficial, affected manner that comes to all
twenty-somethings? My mate Mark got me into Gong, who played one of the greatest gigs I have
ever seen at the Riverside in the early autumn of 1990 (or was it 1991?) but they were still a bunch
of drug-addled middle-aged crazies in tights and cheesecloth! Later, my mate Dave and I went to
watch odd, newborn misfits like PJ Harvey and Manic Street Preachers. The Orb gave many an
ultraworld to live in. Anything to get away from an increasingly ebullient narrative flown by the
likes of Creation Records.
Those first two Ride EPs, bought in the dawn of the world’s morning and the third, which
soundtracked a sometimes beautiful autumn, were shelved and remained unplayed for twenty
odd years. Outside of Lush’s glorious Mad Love EP and the formidable and often forgotten Pale
Saints LP, The Comforts Of Madness, I didn’t really revisit any records from this time. Which is
probably all very unfair on Ride.
Ride c.1990. Credit: Press
Ride’s first EP still has its brio intact more than three decades on. There’s a sticky sense of fun and
daring here that later releases, with all their art and sense of scale don’t possess. ‘Chelsea Girl’
charges out of the blocks like a foal let out in a field on a spring day. Throughout, the track feels
like it can’t keep up with itself, and the lyrics betray a similarly feckless, teenage impatience: “You
must have something / what it is I just don’t know.” What does it mean? (What does it matter?)
Following the predictable but fabulously cocky guitar squall to end the track, we get ‘Drive Blind’,
which is still a monster and one of their best; the ice-cold riff sitting uncomfortably atop a glutinous
guitar growl and an insistent, fill-heavy rhythm. ‘Drive Blind’ really does sound like a souped-up
Ford Escort charging round dark country lanes in search of a party with the passengers holding
their arse cheeks tight in fear.
There’s a messy groove on Ride that is very reminiscent of the times: ‘All I Can See’ is as
lackadaisical and East Coast as anything on Teenage Fanclub’s Catholic Education. Diffident young
English lads looking to riff off the chemtrails laid down by Dinosaur Jr., perhaps? Perhaps. For its
part, the closer on the B-side, ‘Close My Eyes’, is full of the sort of fringe-heavy, lovesick mutterings
many had at the time, when all of us dreamt of the bedroom action sketched out in MBV’s ‘Slow’,
wondering whether it would happen in our bedrooms, too. Listening back after 30 years or so, the
track could also be a Gen X take on ‘Down In The Park’, the beat certainly having something in
common with that tapped out by Numan. No paranoia about being turned into a kitchen appliance
here, though; it’s all about love and bodies and other squelchy stuff.
I remember sticking the second EP, Play on the day it came out, and having to sit down as it felt
like the ultimate chemical rush. Opener ‘Like A Daydream’ balances out the increasingly choral,
elegiac elements of their sound with a pounding beat. It sounded like they were about to find the
missing chord, what with the psyched-out, metallic guitars reining in the incipient romanticisms.
Lines like “I wish life could be like a photograph”, and “there's so much more to think about than
black and white” are the perfect teenage Great Thoughts, too; set down portentously in a
bedroom adorned with posters of Mazzy Star. ‘Silver’ is just great; paced at stagger speed with the
guitars brilliantly balanced as the story slowly unfolds. Gardener sings as if he’s down the pub after
being dumped. ‘Furthest Sense’ now sounds like a pumped-up take on that buzzing Revolver
sound which obsessed so many back then; the marriage of pounding rhythm and moreish riff
wages continual war with the clever multi tracked vocal line. ‘Perfect Time’ hints at a sort of
neurosis, the thud and bash of the sound almost runs away from the song itself, despite the slow
sliding guitar breaks. It’s Ride at their messiest, on their 19th nervous breakdown.
Ride performing live c.1990. Credit: Press
With the Fall EP we notice a change. The band now sounds beautiful, at one remove, burned out.
Their old dayglo energy is beamed in through another filter. We’ve moved indoors, and we practise
staring out of the window, creating cathedrals of sound in our minds. That’s how the long autumn
and winter of 1990-1991 felt for many wallflowers, Heaven Or Las Vegas escapism coupled with
Gulf War nerves. Opener ‘Dreams Burn Down’ is a glorious song, a pure moment of revelation
where everything comes together for the band and listener; the lyrics sound as if they have a
hinterland and the rhythm creates caverns of space; not a moment is wasted. The coruscating
guitar breaks are initially annoying but over time add to a growing sense of theatre, countering
the latent beauty of the core melody. It really is a high point. Then an inevitable slump. ‘Taste’
now sounds like Ride-by-Numbers. It’s all there but not really furthering the cause outside of
sounding pretty. Luckily the following track ‘Here And Now’ is another moody number, with a
tough and scaly skin, the powerful bass and doleful harmonica part really adding to the
atmosphere. Last track ‘Nowhere’ merely amplifies what has gone before and seems happy
enough to wallow in its own ennui.
For the record, I didn’t buy Ride’s debut album, Nowhere, even though I’d enjoyed hearing the
tracks on it earlier in the year at that Riverside gig. Just didn’t see the need. Was my consciousness
picking up on the fact that their music started to sound too perfect, too nailed on, too “genre-
defining”? Their big sound suddenly seemed to allow only rapt admiration; all head and no hips. I
can’t remember listening to Ride, or all the other (proto)shoegaze bands after that particular
winter. Which brings me to the last EP, 1991’s Today Forever. Hearing it probably for the first time
as a serious “sit down listen”, it reveals itself to be a nice surprise and one that, due to the clear
and confident song structures, can stand outside of that time pretty well; though echoes are
familiar, of course. I must have heard it in other people’s rooms… ‘Unfamiliar’ is a sleek track, all
charm and restraint. And ‘Sennen’ has transformed in my mind from being a downbeat song to
being the best number Oasis never had. It’s a glorious tune, with a beautifully understated melody.
‘Beneath’ again marries clever guitar-driven pyrotechnics and an understated, folksy songline.
Final track ‘Today’ is as good as ‘Sennen’, another torch shining a light towards Britpop, the big
sound mixing psychedelia and an elegiac noise: a Deep English whimsy faced with sonic wipeout,
a concoction so tarnished by the later oafish grandstanding.
Who knows where the time goes?
Ride's 4 EPs is out now on double vinyl via Wichita Recordings
There have been many dissenting voices bemoaning the recent spate of band reunions, but you wouldn't have
found any of them crammed into the upstairs of Oxford's O2 Academy (formerly The Zodiac) on Easter
Sunday, as local heroes Ride – Andy Bell, Mark Gardener, Steve Queralt and Loz Colbert – prepared to
perform together live for the first time in 20 years. Like their fellow (also recently reformed) shoegaze
pioneers Slowdive, Ride feel like a band with unfinished business. Their first life ended in acrimony and
exhaustion in 1996, with close friendships in tatters. With Ride, the hatchet was buried fairly swiftly and the
band have been on good terms for years (even performing together in 2001 for a Channel 4 documentary
about Sonic Youth), but getting back together now is far more than an exercise in nostalgia. Their legacy is
strong – like Slowdive they have become more influential in their absence then they ever were when they
were a going concern when, after a meteoric rise, they found themselves vilified in the press for various
reasons – mostly spurious, some justified.
When they released their first EP in January 1990, Ride were adopted into the mainstream with dizzying
speed – big enough to score Top 40 hits (the first for Creation Records) just 12 months after forming. They
became pin-ups, gracing countless music press front covers, and showed the UK indie scene that it was
possible to make the leap from critical adulation to mainstream appeal without compromising their art. Their
debut album, Nowhere, is often cited as one of the most influential of the 1990s, laying down the blueprint
for the shoegaze sound. In five short years, Ride conquered the charts (their second album, Going Blank
Again, went top five in the UK) and toured the world, signing an American recording deal with the
legendary US music industry mogul Seymour Stein (the man who signed Madonna). They created and
redefined a whole genre of music, reframing pop music in a noise context, but despite all this, the story of
Ride's rapid ascent and dramatic fall from grace is often forgotten, swallowed up in the years bookended by
baggy and Madchester, and the Britpop explosion and grunge.
Now Ride come again, and they deserve this second chance to remind everyone why they should be regarded
as influential trailblazers. For the fans, and the band members themselves, this is more than just a trip down
memory lane. Watching them that night in Oxford, and the myriad of online footage from the subsequent
dates in America, the overriding feeling is of a band not just reformed but completely reborn – they sound
better now than they ever did in their pomp. Having seen Mark Gardener play countless acoustic gigs to half-
empty pub backrooms, watching him stamp on the pedals and play these songs with his old friends to a
rapturous crowd was a joy. His beaming smile and general demeanour suggested that he felt the same way.
Similarly, Andy Bell playing bass for Oasis always felt like watching Paul Scholes play centre back. He may
have got back on the six-string with Beady Eye, but it still felt like he was slumming it. And Loz Colbert
(“the Keith Moon of shoegaze” © Nat Cramp) and Steve Queralt (dub reggae's loss was shoegaze's gain) are
still one of the all-time great rhythm sections. This is what they are supposed to be doing. Effortlessly cool
all over again.
When Ride initially announced they were reforming it was a run of dates in the UK and Europe (including
Field Day and Primavera) that were supposed to mark their re-entry to the fray, but once news they were
back became public, the organisers of Coachella wanted them on board, so a West Coast US tour was
subsequently put together. That means that any UK fans that didn't get a ticket for the Oxford gig have had
to watch their beloved band's second coming from afar. But with that initial run of UK dates now imminent,
I caught up with the band (minus Loz) in a North London pub to talk about being back together, that recent
US tour, how YouTube and Twitter have transformed the live experience and what to expect from the
forthcoming gigs.
Andy Bell: These were the original dates we scheduled to start with. Then we had the American stuff put in,
so it still feels like we haven't really launched properly. The time I'll really feel like that will be Barrowlands
(Glasgow, May 23). This is the gig where, on the day that we announced it all, people got on the phone and
bought tickets straight away.
It's good in a way, because anyone who got those tickets are going to get the best of you. You've gone
to America, and got warmed up...
Steve Queralt: It's a relief for us really, because we know it all works. It sounded good and we're reasonably
match fit.
AB: It definitely ironed out a few creases, that's for sure. We came out to do the encore in Oxford, and we
were going to do 'Leave Them All Behind'. So we had a sample of the organ intro, and we were going to start
that and then walk on. The sound guy pressed the button and it was coming out of the monitors, but it wasn't
coming out the front. We could hear it, but no one was cheering and we were like, "Fucking hell! I though
this tune was bigger than this!"
Mark Gardener: I suppose the anxiety that I started to feel was the whole brave new world order, that anything
you do is filmed and put online for the world.
I watched your Coachella set in my pyjamas at 7am on my phone, lying in bed with my kids.
SQ: It's mad, isn't it? The encore was on YouTube before we'd even finished.
AB: I like that. I've watched enough YouTube videos now that the whole thing of the bad quality and bad
sound gives it a charm that makes it seem better than it was in a way. It's almost like the worse quality the
better.
How does touring now compare to what it was like first time round?
MG: I'm loving all the geeky things like the monitoring. This is the first time I've done Ride shows and been
able to hear Andy's singing really well and me singing - that was always the trade-off back in the day. You
knew you wouldn't be able to hear the vocals very well. I think we actually did pretty well, and mostly we
were in tune. Now it's so much better. I can relax because I can hear everything properly - the performance
can grow and come up another level. There's not that battle any more, especially at festivals. That's just
technical shit, but it does make a difference. I know Andy's experienced all that before, but I've never had it.
Having you been partying hard post gig, or now you're older and wiser, do you leave a bit more in the
tank?
AB: Bit of both really. You can't help having a couple of beers when it's a good gig. Apart from Loz, who's
got a terrible heroin habit.
[Everyone laughs, because he hasn't - Legal Ed]
MG: Of course, you're buzzing after shows like that.
So you didn't hit Haight Ashbury and go and score some acid?
AB: I did hit Haight, but I went to Amoeba Music for a slightly different drug – the hit of vinyl. I got the
Jodorowsky soundtracks to El Topo and The Holy Mountain.
MG: I was definitely far more present than I've ever felt at these Ride shows. In the past I'd have been really
stoned or whatever. But it would be completely ridiculous to be totally off your head to come and do this.
You want to do what you do and do it really well. It means a lot to me to be able to do that. It also brings up
the anxiety levels a bit! Being able to feel all of it...
At Oxford, you were on another level to what I can remember from Ride Mk1. In terms of performance
and the sound...
AB: That's really cool. Hopefully that's along the same lines as me seeing the Stone Roses again. I'm always
banging on about the bloody Roses, but that's how I felt when I saw them. They'd gone up a level.
MG: That's what I've said in a few interviews - the challenge is how do we get this up to that next level? And
with the sort of gigs we're being offered now, it needs to be. Lots of little things make a big difference.
I know a lot of people are against bands reforming, but I feel like people will get to see the best of Ride
this time. You're older, wiser, more experienced, better musicians – with an improved level of
performance and better technology, you get a chance to really show people how good you can be. I feel
like there is a lot of unfinished business for Ride - there is a reason for you to get back together.
MG: Imagine how shit it would be if you came out and did it and it didn't sound anything like it should.
SQ: That's why going to California was so good. It was reassuring as lots of people told us that we sounded
really good. That's a massive weight off our shoulders.
And then you can go into the UK and Europe dates full of confidence. So what can people expect from
these gigs?
AB: It was good to do a few shows and try a few things out. Coming into the UK tour, we know now what's
going to be good - the set order and how we play it. It will probably be a more muscular, aggressive set than
we've been doing. Instead of coming in in first gear, we're going to go straight in. You have to – you can't
walk on stage at Barrowlands and not have it. You judge it from the audience, and you have to deliver what
they want.
MG: The general shape of the set we've got really works. We know that having road tested it. It bodes well.
I've always loved the live version of 'Nowhere'. It's a monster. You opened with a 16-minute version
of that in San Diego (at Humphrey's Concerts By the Bay).
SQ: We promised ourselves we would do that at some point.
AB: But that was something that would only really work in California. It wouldn't work in Glasgow.
SQ: It's either San Diego or Mars.
MG: It was a bizarre show. It's one of the loveliest settings I've ever played in. You've got the water there
and there's people on kayaks and yachts and boats. It's a wild setting. It just seemed the right place for
'Nowhere'.
SQ: There were all these holiday chalets around the perimeter of the venue. Some of them were just people
on holiday and they were wondering what the hell was going on!
MG: People were slamming their shutters and looking really angry... Then there were others who'd booked
knowing we were going to be playing there who were dancing on their balconies.
You played 'I Wanna Be Your Dog' as part of the encore in San Francisco, which is something you
used to do in the very early days. Are there going to be any other surprises?
AB: I'd like to feel that every gig is going to have something about it... whether that's 'I Wanna Be Your Dog'
or something else. There will be something every night that makes it a bit special. But we really need to start
learning some more of the old songs to make that happen.
MG: It's getting harder to surprise people though, because the minute you finish playing the set list is up on
social media.
SQ: It was quite disheartening actually - we played in Oxford and then two days later we did LA and someone
on Twitter commented, "Oh, they played the same set."
MG: It was our second gig!
People are bored already...!
AB: In Oxford we played everything we had. Everything we'd rehearsed. The stuff we've added since then,
we've rehearsed on the hoof. So that's where we are. We're up to date. But there are certain songs we can do
out of the blue and pull off, so I'm up for that. I think we pulled off 'Nowhere', and there are others like that.
Leave it with us, we'll try and keep surprising you.
MG: It's nice really - there was always something about us before that we were flying by the seat of our pants.
But when you're confident with the main structure you can get that feeling of spontaneity back again.
AB: We can always come back in with 'Twisterella'. There's a good variety of Ride songs, but quite a few
are just set in stone how they are. The ones that are really fun to play now and then are the freeform ones.
How was it being back together on the road again? How has the dynamic of the band changed?
MG: It was strangely familiar, yet surreal. It seemed weird to think that there was such a long time when we
weren't doing it.
SQ: It was like 20 years disappeared in an instant.
MG: Also what's nice on the road is there's a crew as well and I've really enjoyed meeting new people. It's
not just the band - there's lots of other people around too. Plus partners came out for our first few shows and
that was great too.
Did any of your kids make it along to any of the shows?
SQ: My son James saw us at Reading when he was three months old. Us and Public Enemy. He doesn't
remember it though. And he came to the Oxford show.
AB: My kids haven't come yet - I've got four kids and none of them have ever seen Ride. I think my daughter,
Leia, is going to come to Field Day.
Field Day is the only UK festival Ride are playing. Are you looking forward to it?
MG: That's the only festival we can play - there's exclusivity on it, but we can't wait.
SQ: Of course we were going to headline Glastonbury...
They sent out a fake Glastonbury line-up and you guys were on it and then everyone got very excited.
It looked amazing, better than the one they actually announced.
MG. Yeah, I saw that. We'd love to do Glastonbury, it'd be amazing. We're already thinking about things for
next year already.
Once this run of shows is over, is there any chance you'll start looking at making new music together?
AB: There's nothing really happening in that department at the moment. What we're talking about for the
future is just doing more shows as that seems to still be the thing. I almost feel like we should be doing a
whole world tour – even reaching to South America.
You were big over there weren't you? And in Japan as well?
AB: I don't really know whether Ride were very big in South America.
SQ: We are now.
Shoegazing is massive in Argentina.
AB: Yeah, it's really growing out there. So I want to go to South America, I want to go to Japan; I want to
go back to North America and the UK and then all around Europe to all the towns that don't normally get
done. That's it really. I want to do all that.
So that's this year and then you're going to see where you are. You're not going to give me an exclusive
on a new album are you?
SQ. Further down the line we might.
I think people in the UK feel like they've been missing out as they've been watching all the stuff that
going on in America from afar and that's really built up the anticipation. There's been lots of stuff
online, it's not the same as actually being there in the flesh.
AB. The kind of gig that we do, it's a very physical noise. It's quite a violent sound. It's not just hearing
something, it's feeling it as well. It's in the same way the Valentines gets you in the solar plexus.
Yeah, well so far so good.
MG: Oxford was really emotional.
AB: I can't even remember the gig!
You just went into autopilot.
AB: No, not really autopilot. I just went into the zone with the music. It had been quite an emotional ride to
get back to that spot though and I think I was so overwhelmed when I got onto the stage that I almost had to
slap myself with a wet fish for a minute. When I'm in the build-up to dates, I always picture myself at a
particular venue. Throughout rehearsals all I could think about was going on stage in Oxford and that was
really what it was all about for me. Now I've switched to Barrowlands and it's all about that. I can picture the
room; I can picture walking on stage. That's informing how we think about set lists and things like that.
So what about you Steve? Andy and Mark have obviously been performing lots since the split, but this
is your first time back in the game since Ride split. How has it felt for you? I know you're not the kind
of guy to get fazed by stuff, but it must have been emotional.
SQ: I did wonder if I could do it and how terrifying it would actually be. The few minutes before being on
stage at Oxford really was… It felt like being on death row, waiting to be taken into the final room. I
remember thinking that if I could get through 'Polar Bear' than I'd be okay – but that was absolutely terrifying.
I was actually shaking.
I don't think anyone noticed.
MG: I can totally hear what he's saying. The solo stuff for me, I felt so naked when I was performing, so for
me it was a joy to get away from that.
Nat from Sonic Cathedral said how great to see you look like you were having a ball.
MG: Yeah that's what I mean, I'm loving it. I'm glad that that comes across, because I think that at this stage
it would be bad if people were reading us wrong.
SQ: I don't remember playing live being half as much fun as it is now.
Andy, this is probably quite a difficult question to answer, but how does it compare – being in Beady
Eye and Oasis, and now going back to Ride?
AB: It's not that different really. Every band lives or dies by what it does on stage. It's really about four or
five people playing instruments and that's it. It's about the chemistry. A band is a product of the people in it
and as such they all function in slightly different ways, but then at the same time, they're all the same. I just
feel like me, whatever band I'm in.
But does Ride feel a bit more special?
AB: There is something special about Ride because it's your first band and you're first love. You're going
back to something that you were part of at the beginning.
As well as headlining The Quietus main stage at Field Day 2015 on Sunday, June 7th, Ride play the following
tour dates:
May 22nd - Barrowland Ballroom, Glasgow 23rd - Albert Hall, Manchester 24th - Roundhouse, London 26th
- Paradiso, Amsterdam 27th - 2015 Olympia, Paris 29th - Primavera Sound Festival, Barcelona
