Post Script - The Fall (Cog Sinister)
If you knew nothing about The Fall and you put the "Post Script" album on your turntable, it's like your first listen to Joy Division's "Unknown Pleasures". You'll just keep getting up and turning it over and over and over, for most of the day.
It really is very difficult for humans to take a step back. Especially if we have expectations. While various hideous and disgraceful wars have been hammering on, for the best part of the last four months, Fall fandom has been a-gurgle and a-splutter onlibne over "Post Script", the band's 32nd record.
It's also the first posthumous album of unheard songs by the band, and given the state of half of the online chat, it's surprising that questions haven't been asked in the Houses of Parliament of the UK's new (honorary Mancunian) Prime Minister.
Much of it is disbelief at the cheek and sheer hide of two long-time Mark E. Smith friends and former bandmates, Ed Blaney and Simon "Ding" Archer, having the temerity to take some unaccompanied vocals by Smith, weld some music on and call it The Fall. Well, with pretty much any other band, I'd say they might have a point. But not with The Fall, and not with these two blokes.
Also, Mark E. Smith absolutely pranked his fans, and his musicians, over and over, and now, as my chum and bandmate Shaun C. Duncan remarked to me last night, it's now the turn of the band to prank Mark. These recordings were clearly made with respect and love, as well as decades of knowledge of Mark and his personality.
See, The Fall broke the mould when it came to audience and band expectations - as almost every long-time Smith observer will be obliged to agree, first, Smith would never produce what you wanted, but what he felt was appropriate to the circumstances. Look, you can't have 'what the audience wants' to dictate what a band does, because then it means the band are obliged to "follow" or "equal" that same successful LP over and over again - and this is a common crevice to hell into which many, many rock bands have toppled.
This often meant that each new Fall LP was, in terms of commerciality, deliberately flawed, often to the obvious frustration of fans, the band's musicians, the producers, the record labels, and pretty much anyone else who felt they had a right to tell Mark E. Smith what records he should be making.
Over the band's long history, Smith also released scads of live Fall and compilation LPs, and authorised recordings which the band's fans frequently complained about (but bought anyway, including one five-disc set! The point of these releases was partly financial, to keep the band solvent or afloat. But the other point was an exploration in sonics, and in what constitutes a desirable musical context - in other words, the man considered that he wasn't just making rock'n'roll, but art.
Some say that Smith deliberately courted self-sabotage by being so damned wilful. My feeling is that he intended to produce music which forced the listener to pay attention: The Fall were never intended as aural background while you do the dishes. I suspect Mark would be the first to cackle if you tried that to find yourself dropping and shattering your favourite mug or Gran's best China. Run of the mill rock 'n' roll doesn't do that: but art should.
Yes, sure, back in the olden days, certainly one might record favourite or preferred tracks onto a reel-to-reel tape or a cassette tape, in preference to listening to the entire LP. And we still make compilations of our favourite songs today. Over the decades, innumerable bands have released LPs which may have been the best they could come up with at the time, but which only have a few decent tracks - and the rest being dismissable (or a struggle to endure). David Bowie's 1984 offering, "Tonight", springs to mind. Definitely an LP to have on while you do the vacuuming, either that or a table mat for something hot.
Now, on any social media page devoted to a particular rock band, some daft bugger will have put up a list of the band's best five LPs, and their five worst. You will find that most fans will agree with that list, give or take a few. Think about it: Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Queen, KISS, Bowie, . You know?
Not so with The Fall. When, back in the dim mists of time, I was a member of The Mighty Fall fb page, it would tickle me no end as someone would list their top and bottom five. Invariably, instead of the Fall masses nodding their heads wisely into their pints, hordes of excitable folks would bound from the woodwork and vigorously dispute the naffness of the bottom five and denigrate the greatness of the top five. Similarly, you can list your ninety minute mix of top Fall songs ... and within seconds, you will be trampled in the rush of fans squawking about the inclusion of this or that song and what about x or y, eh?
Early last year I was able to visit Manchester for the first time, meeting with a bunch of folks I'd never met before, to walk the streets of Salford and Prestwich and Smith's hangouts with the likes of Barrie Reilly, Pete Conkerton, tour guide extraordinaire Rob Carroll, and even the apparently elusive Ed Blaney. The Fall wasn't the main thing we chatted about of course, but for me Smith's impact was part of the city's landscape.
Rob Carroll's tour shepherded a small group of like-minded around the area where Smith not only grew up, but where the band posed for photographs in the early years - there's a vivid, eerie nature of some sites which provide a huge insight into certain songs (there's a definite Lovecraftian air to a few spots, for example). Why am I not naming these places? Get ahold of Rob Carroll, sort your passport out and do the walk yourselves, that's bloody why.
Mark E.Smith with Ed Blaney. Ric Gibbs photo.
I lost count of the number of pubs I went into which Smith frequented, sometimes one of his locals, sometimes not: just a quiet pub where he could be accepted and left alone. It does rather bring you down to earth when you realise you're pissing in the same trough which Smith had pissed in, off and on, in varying states of dishevellment, for decades. Quite an odd sensation. And, while no, I didn't mess me sneakers when this thought occurred, I confess it was a near thing.
It was also a pleasure to see a gig by one of the two Fall cover bands in UK, The Look Back Bores. The name comes from a quote by Smith, who disparaged that large group of fans who would always want the old songs, not the new ones. He won them over, I think, mostly, in the end, but I suspect it was always an uphill struggle.
The LBB are damn good at what they do - always varying their long set. After I got over the delight of seeing familiar songs done so well, live and loud with copious torrents of booze, dancing and merriment, there were two things which struck me hard: first, that The Fall had had so very, very many brilliant songs it was amazing they hadn't dominated the mainstream charts for two decades or more; and that second, however damn good the LBB were ... they were just a band playing songs.
By that I mean that, no matter who was in The Fall, it was only The Fall if Mark was there, guiding, directing, hovering. No different in that sense to any other band leader, (say) Duke Ellington, James Brown, or Little Richard, or Nick Cave. Members come and go, depending on requirements, and the band leader knows what is required; the music's in his head, the musicians ain't. The sole axle is the lead drawcard.
Having seen The Fall several times, and the LBB once, I'm telling you now, that the power and drive which constituted the band rested in the heart and soul of that apparently unassuming character who moved about on stage not with the energy and bizarre excitement of a red-cordial-soaked Bon Jovi, but with the vim of a shabby bloke ... off to the bottle-o. Blink and you miss it: thousands did and, despite themselves, still do.
The truth is that Mark E. Smith had a baffling understated, magnetism; he was at once both dead ordinary and also, uber. Bloody powerfully uber, right?
Before I continue, bear in mind that Smith lent his voice to a number of other bands and projects, and he did not consider any of them to be The Fall, because they weren't his projects. He was helping out, lending his name and presence to an outfit which may or may not have got anywhere, or just because he felt like it. Von Südenfed's records are a vivid collaboration, as is the LP "Smith and Blaney". A brisk glance at the Mark E. Smith discography (on Wikipedia) lists some 14 collaborators (including two co-writer credits with Gorillaz - I'm sure you've heard "Plastic Beach"?).
In the wash after Smith's death in 2018, there were two bands which emerged: House of All, composed of ex-members of the band trying to emulate The Fall, along the lines of 'what would Mark do?'. Originally called House of Fall, this name rightly drew ire from Smith's estate, forcing them to change gears a bit. The other band were Imperial Wax, comprised of most of the members of the last, and longest lasting line-up, members of The Fall, aiming for their own style of music - just as strong as they could make it, but a distinctly different direction.
It really needs to be emphasised: no Mark E. Smith, no Fall. Nothing wrong with Imperial Wax, nor House of All, nor the Look Back Bores, nor The Fallen Women. You could go along to each or all and have a damn fine time.
But The Fall weren't always about going out to have a whizzo-jolly fine time, because it was very early on that Smith realised that first, the band had an increasingly loyal audience, many of whom would treat the band in the English tradition (that is, they'd travel around the country, following the band from town to town, rather like soccer fans did and still do). Anyway, Smith realised that to play to the expectations of this audience was a trap. He had ambitions, as well as literary aspirations, and took the extraordinarily courageous step of frequently altering the band's sound and direction, replacing members apparently on a whim, taking great glee in confounding the expectations of press and punters alike. One LP would be monumental, and the next, not so much so. Or, so the critics said.
This also applied to the LP covers, only a very few of which are alike: yet every single one loudly proclaims the band's perverse and wilful nature: take a look at the covers of the third, fourth and fifth LPs, in comparison with the enigmatic, emblematic covers of the 14th, 15th and 16th, and then the somewhat bizarre 22nd, and their 31stt, which is frankly bloody horrible.
Because? Well, each Fall LP isn't so much a rock'n'roll LP as a work of art. Think I'm joking? Well, partly I guess you had to experience the thing in context, the times and what was currently popular, checking out the press responses, and what the actual songs were on the LP, in order. A new LP by The Fall stuck out from the heap of new releases like a pair of dog's proverbials on a birthday cake.
Sure, you can appreciate The Fall by using mix-tapes. But you'll miss a hell of a lot - including the point. Take "The Complete Peel Sessions, 1978-2004" comprising the band's mammoth 24 BBC sessions made for DJ John Peel (loathed by the BBC, loved by music fans around the world). Fans know what the casual listener doesn't - there are songs on this box which never made any of the band's LPs, and there are versions of songs which are absolutely stonking in comparison to the version recorded for the resultant LP. If I had to suggest a starting point for a novice interested in The Fall, I'd suggest this box. It's huge.
Here: from Joe Tangari's 2005 review of "The Complete Peel Sessions, 1978-2004" (Sanctuary) in "Pitchfork":
This thing is absolutely loaded, with performances that frequently eclipse the studio versions. The 1980 version of "New Face In Hell" is thunderous and Smith's cracking, hysterical vocal is hilariously psychotic - the band's oft-hidden sense of humour easy to spot. Smith actually laughs on "'eatle Bones 'n' Smokin' Stones', and the band's December 1994 piss-take on 'Jingle Bell Rock' is a case study in sarcastic destruction.
Similarly, the Fall singles box (still available from Cherry Red) is a whopping seven discs of songs drawing together all the tracks from all the singles the band released (with the exception of some live tracks). Cherry Red have also issued a box set of the band's A-sides - but to have that instead of the B-sides is to completely miss the point.
Don't get me wrong: I've listened to the band's LPs and, on third or even second listen, skipped more than a few tracks. It's normal. But the impact of that first listen, at that particular time... that's the immediacy of the art of The Fall's LPs. Ditto "Post Script", but hang on...
Also, let's not forget what Smith himself thought of The Fall. Apart from being his only source of income (he paid the band a weekly wage before he paid himself), The Fall were his primary emotional outlet, and a vehicle for his writing. And Smith's writing was as mischievous as it was dark and grim, mercurial and perverse - a perfect reflection of the man behind the outfit you may say, but I would argue that The Fall reflected Mark's view of us all and himself through his own unique prism. Salford and its environs were his Arkham.
Going back to what I was saying about the apparently scrappy nature of some of the Fall's LPs (and some would argue every Fall LP), the thing to bear in mind is that Mark E. Smith was a prolific song-writer, and even when he didn't appear to have that many to hand, the truth is that he did have plenty of songs to choose from if he wanted to pad out an LP rather than add something guaranteed to raise the blood-pressure of the faithful: a couple of examples might include "Italiano", "Oswald Defence Lawyer" and "Crew Filth / Where’s The Fuckin Taxi? Cunt". That said, you only have to look at the plethora of high-quality songs on the band's B-sides rather than their A-sides, and the songs which the band recorded for John Peel, but never used ... and now "Post Script".
Those who followed this band back in the day know full well that almost every LP was met with a chorus of dismay, irritation and downright rudeness from some quarters (including hitherto die-hard fans) - and in later years these offending LPs would be held in the highest regard as an indispensable part of 'the canon'.
So, here we are in 2026, and another offensive Fall LP is imminent. It's called "Post Script", the vocals are by Smith, with music and production divided by the afore-mentioned Archer and Blaney. A teaser track, the first on the LP, "30 Degrees" was issued online in June (as were pre-sales), and the LP is officially released on 2 October. The cover is plain black and white, an inversion of a funeral notice, clearly a mark of respect.
Hey, they could've put all manner of dreadful covers on it - Mark certainly put out records with the naffest, ugliest of covers - but Archer and Blaney have refrained.
2026 context? "Post Script" is the second LP to be issued this year using unused vocals by Smith (the other is The Gorillaz' "The Mountain", specifically, the song "Delirium", which has to be heard to be believed - quite clearly Smith had one thing in mind, and Albarn and co. have bolted Smith's vocals on to hilarious - or befuddling - impact).
A few days ago "The Guardian" writer Dave Simpson produced an article on "Post Script", citing the two musicians who steered the LP to completion, Simon Archer and Ed Blaney, and Smith's last girlfriend, Pamela Vander. Archer is quoted from a piece he posted on Facebook, Blaney was contacted directly
You may recall Simpson's previous Fall-form; he's the author of "The Fallen", a book in which he chases up and buttonholes the ex-members of The Fall (all bar one, Karl Burns). In one sense it's an entertaining read, but Simpson puts himself into the story so much that one wonders why he actually wrote the thing; for me, "The Fallen" comes across like so many books on musicians (including, unfortunately, my own first attempt), a book about a subject, without a great deal of compassion and understanding for the people involved. Indeed, the fact that so many members of the band were sacked in less than pleasant circumstances is presented as something of a joke (and still is), rather than also being quite bloody traumatic.
Pamela Vander describes herself as Smith's "fiancee and last manager", and describes "Post Script" as "ethically wrong" and a "cash grab".
There's definitely a few issues here; for example, I suspect Smith's obituary in The New York Times is mistaken because far as I can tell, it seems that at his death Smith was still married to Eleni Poulou; she was his longest-standing partner who left him, and The Fall, in 2016.
A "cash grab"? Pfffft. Every recording artist who releases records hopes to make money, for fuck's sake. The Fall were never a not-for-profit enterprise, but a company with a company brand, like most other rock'n'roll outfits. Smith famously refused numerous offers to put his songs to telly adverts for (I imagine) everything from sneakers, crisps, beer, incontinence pads and the like, which would've brought in loadsamoney.
Instead, he released live records (nearly 60!) and compilation records (over 50!) from Best-ofs to all sorts of oddments. He only caved in once (allowing part of "Hey! Luciani!" for a Vauxhall Corsa TV ad), when the band was struggling. Bear in mind that live recordings of The Fall circulated furiously among fans; Smith's logic in releasing the live recordings was completely sound.
The truth is, "Post Script" is a damn sight more coherent and considered than most of the mixed compilation LPs - in fact I reckon probably the only reason Mark would find fault with "Post Script" is that it's too coherent, too consistently bloody excellent, too clean. In that sense, the joke's on Mark for once: for decades he'd harangue producers and musicians to sound worse rather than better, and here we are with ... well, hang on, still not quite there yet.
So, who's going to make money out of this? Sure, I suppose Archer and Blaney. Why not? Every musician who worked with Smith deserved payment. But also: Smith's estate will get paid too. And damn right, too.
Vander's also quoted as saying that "by the time of his death he had made the decision that ‘New Facts Emerge’ was the final album, made by the longest-lasting lineup of The Fall ... so I don't think anyone else should over-ride a decision he made when he was alive"...
Well, this would be news to the band. Here's Fall bassist Keiron Melling from an Imperial Wax interview with "The Quietus", recorded in April 2019:
"The last time I saw him that was a pretty hard moment. I still believed it’d be alright. He looked ill and had no energy but I thought it was all the chemo taking it out of him. We were talking about the next LP he’d already arranged with Grant Showbiz and he was talking about hiring a big house in the Lake District and setting it up as a recording studio."
However, this is 2026, and Archer says: "The last recorded album by The Fall was and always will be 'New Facts Emerge'."
In other words, this Fall LP is exactly what it says on the box: a postscript, a P.S., a note after the main letter.
And as for no-one should over-ride a decision Mark made when he was alive ... well, Archer's recollection of Smith's instructions for his recorded, unaccompanied vocals are clear: "you can do what you like with that one, cock".
This statement has the ring of truth about it; partly because it's also what Smith said to Ed Blaney regarding a vocal and music track they'd recorded together: Blaney later bigged it up and released it as "The Train", a hypnotic, beguiling Manc motorik with Smith's self-mocking lyric. If Blaney had wanted to, he could've called that collaboration, The Fall, but he didn't. Noted radio DJ and long-time Fall fan Paul Slater remarked to me last night: "It's not a real Fall album. They should just have put their names on it instead."
You know the sort of thing: Archer, Blaney, Smith. But ... that doesn't really lend the gravitas of the loving tribute to and with their Chief. Also, as Shaun Duncan remarked above, that wouldn't be as strong: instead of Smith dominating proceedings, for once he has to take a back seat. The situation is fraught with comedy, tragedy, irony and a bunch of other things. Yes, Mark would be shaking with laughter if he could see all this.
Let's not forget that there was no kerfuffle about House Of All actually existing (just the original choice of name: House of Fall), nor Imperial Wax. And although I reckon the man himself would've been publicly scathing of both bands (but privately proud), those musicians have definitely earned the right (in bloody spades) to perform and record, even to the point of trading on Mark's name. And why the hell not? The man himself recognised that he was not always an easy employer - name-checking M.E.S. as part of your work history is like a snake handler pointing out their necrotic flesh.
Anyway, using Smith's put-by vocals is far from a crime: as I say, Smith would've delighted in the current bickering over "Post Script"; hell, did you see this amount of fuss over the Gorillaz' "Delirium" a few months back? No: Smith would have been damn glad to see his put-by vocals put to good, subversive use (again, I understand the man's estate had approved their use). Hell, how many other artists have had posthumous, unfinished LPs released, eh? Elvis Presley, Roy Orbison, Spencer P. Jones, Brian Henry Hooper ... Sure, we might say 'it's what he would've wanted' - actually, what the artist would really have wanted is to have been alive to oversee it - but, seriously, get your head out of your bum: this is the next best thing.
Personally, I've no problem with this release, nor it being described as an LP by 'The Fall'. Archer has it dead to rights: "Mark is The Fall". Blaney wouldn't disagree, and nor should you.
Not too sure if I'm that excited to hear Smith tackle "Material Girl', mind. Don't release it, Pam!
Archer again, from his Facebook post: "We did this with love and total respect and perhaps most importantly, the approval of Mark’s estate ... I only agreed to attempt this album at the third time of asking. It had been way too soon and I was not at all confident that we would end up with a quality product. It was only the constant re-issuing of albums [by Cherry Red] that made me want to get involved and try. When we started I had every door open for me to remain anonymous or walk away if I thought we were doing Mark an injustice or just polishing turds."
Before we press "play", two things to bear in mind. First, Simon "Ding'"Archer is a solid musician (among others, he's also played with Pixies and PJ Harvey) as well as a producer:
You’ll find my name appearing with various degrees of accuracy about my role on 8 of the last 9 albums [not Reformation] and it’s a similar tale when you look at singles and E.Ps from 2004 onwards.
Archer was regarded by Smith as:
The Fall's Producer ... the guy who recorded most, not all of Mark’s vocal takes ... for 12 years-ish. That’s a lot of time spent of just me and him in the studio recording, arranging and producing the music ... There were healthy levels of trust, respect and input in both directions and some of the most challenging demands from artist to engineer that I have ever encountered and sorely miss.
During these sessions we would often throw down Mark’s freshest ideas away from the tracks that were the current workload. These were done at Mark’s request to whatever backing he deemed fit at the time, to a drone; to a drum beat; to something I had on the go; a capella; down a corridor to check the acoustics; to him playing guitar - all sorts of ways. They were often just for fun or to catch a moment. They would get saved and re-loaded at intervals and more stuff would get thrown at them. Some of these then moved on to the band for development and some were dropped.
A small number however, went to a different place, they didn’t fit the required vibe at the time and went into a ‘vault’ with phrases like ‘Put that one in the safe for now” or “ you can do what you like with that one, cock”. I’d never had the time to check 'the safe' but "Post Script" provided an opportunity for these loose ends to be tied up. Ed and I found some gems that just needed fleshing out and arranging. Neither of us are attempting to be the last lineup. The word ‘final’ in the original statement [back in June] was meant to indicate it will be the last LP of unheard studio recordings. Is it The Fall? Well, Mark is The Fall, so yes, these are Fall songs. If you’re not convinced, don’t buy it.
Second, Ed Blaney is also solid musician with some fine records under his belt. If you did a blind listening test, you'd dig them. He was one of The Fall's road managers, fixer and remained Mark Smith's friend - as did Archer. Bear in mind that not all of the ex-band members remained friends with Mark (I could be wrong, but I can't think of too many others off the top of my head).
So. All of that aside. Today I get to listen to the LP. There are nine songs;
"30 Degrees", "So Long", "Colonel's Retreat", "A Caveat", "Final Position", "Retro Song", "Irish Northern Man", "Dehydrated", and "The Book". I really, really don't want to give away too much, either, so ...
"30 Degrees" has been out to listen to since June, which is when I first heard it. And it's a sound, solid, banger. Simple as that. Archer's bass is bloody marvellous, and the break at about 90 seconds is damned inspired.
When "So Long" comes on strong with that hard-nut bass, I think, 'hell, is this LP all bangers?'
That fabulous Fall juggernaut channelling Can, Kraftwerk and Faust via Pebbles and the eerie? - Present and correct, m'lud.
I'm not going to go through each song, so what else do you really need to know?
Cracking, often baffling, occasionally pustulent lyrics? - Oh, god yes. Cannot wait for the lyrics websites to get them hopelessly wrong.
Inexplicable vocal noises from Smith? - check.
Bizarre tape effects from the Walkman fancier himself? - check again.
Beauty as well as ugliness? - oh, yes, in spades.
Dirty grandeur? - oh, yeah!
On every listen I discovered new things; how new rhythms interlock, and there are new motions in the background. Mark's vocal is mixed just right, Archer's bass is sinuous and muscular, with a positively hairy back. The drums are always placed just right. The keys are inspired, spartan and lift the game.
What comes across very strongly is how well Archer and Blaney have constructed these nine strong, tuff songs around a bare vocal; it's a damned incredible achievement. It's not just, you know, the usual kickabye rock beat and a bit of ill-considered farting about. No, "Post Script" presents the result of a pile of invention, thought and consideration: each song is driven by its own internal combustion engine. There's stuff pulled out from ... well. Not telling... but I will say that Archer and Blaney are not pre-empting or trying to reimagine their Chief: so, to the six million dollar question:
Do they do the crusty old bugger justice?
Simpson quotes Vander saying that "Post Script" is "just a collection of some shit from the cutting room floor".
Yeah, nah: horseshit, I'm afraid. And she should know a lot better because that first song, "30 Degrees", is top drawer. And the rest is bloody marvellous.
In my view, Archer and Blaney have absolutely done Smith proud: if you don't listen to "Post Script" and then buy it within two songs, I reckon there's something wrong with you. Shut your ears to your expectations, the past, and the current carping: as far as I'm concerned, "Post Script" is The Fall, seeping out of the shadows of the past.
Bloody hell, I would've loved to have seen Smith roam the stage with this set.
Here's a little more context on The Fall, from the man who had a special room in his house devoted to The Fall's records; a man who was responsible for kickstarting the popularity of bands such as The Sex Pistols, The Cure, The Ramones, Billy Bragg, The Undertones, Peter and the Test Tube Babies, The Members, Pink Floyd, T. Rex, Roxy Music, The Jesus and Mary Chain, and New Order: None other than John Peel:
People write to me and say, 'I heard The Fall, which record should I get?' And I never have any hesitation in telling them: you must get them all, because it’s impossible to pick one . . . and in fact, I’ll go further. I say: anybody who can tell you the five best Fall LPs, or the five best Fall tracks, has missed the point, really. It’s the whole body of the work that is to be applauded.
The quote is pinched from the back of Steve Pringle's magnum opus, "You Must Get Them All. The Fall on Record" (Route Publishing). And, hey, Pringle? A new edition is now required ...
Here's a link to one of Smith's last interviews. Let the Chief have the last word.
Get "Post Script now".
