‘I remember my winter, trudging up to Oldham on two buses, sat in the back room with endless tea and a whole rotisserie chicken…’
What’s your name?
John.
What do you do?
I am a writer, predominantly about clubs
and dance music, for several publications including The Guardian, Time Out,
Skiddle and The Skinny, for whom I was Clubs Editor, and from where all of this
stemmed. When I see distant or elderly relatives, I joke that ‘I write in
advance about what most people can’t remember!’ No, they don’t tend to laugh
either. It’s a real struggle. I also work for a research company occasionally,
and still get my head down with the odd bout of office temping. I am trying to
distance myself from the brain prison of data entry.
Where do you live?
For the past year or so, I’ve lived in
Chorlton, home to the highest proportional home burglary rate in the UK. So you
can assume that if this questionnaire drifts off into the ether before your
mind does, I have simply been robbed of my ability to complete it. I had always
liked Chorlton even when living in the city centre, but the Metrolink made it
much more appealing. Plus there’s cheap swimming and moderately priced ale to
offset the constant climate of fear that you could return home any time to
nothing but a dope stained set of late 70s upholstery.
Tell us the story of how you ended up in
Manchester.
As a teenager in a North Wales village,
in no uncertain terms I wanted to get the fuck out, and fast. I considered
going to university in Kingston Upon Thames, Derby and a few other spots, but
really wanted Manchester (not so) deep down. I just about squeezed in to MMU to
study Film and Media, which I screwed up and dropped out of after two years.
Somehow, with almost no financial means and only temporary jobs flyering
alongside a brief stint as caretaker managing a declining chain of sex shops in
Northern satellite towns, I managed to stick around. Soon to be 27, when life
still feels uncertain, I remember my winter trudging up to Oldham on two buses,
sat in the back room with endless tea and a whole rotisserie chicken, avoiding
eye contact with the endless money shots repeated on a first generation plasma
screen inches from the counter. The only security I had was a hammer stashed in
a small cupboard.
I moved to Manchester for ‘the scene’,
although I wasn’t sure what that was at the time. I did stand up for a few
years and ended up working on a few writing projects for television and so on.
I was much better at the latter side of things. Eventually, my interest drifted
more toward music, and dance music especially. I started to DJ (sometimes
badly, dropping random Panorama Bar house in between Foals remixes at Now
Wave), and somehow kept my head above water. Some best of times, most worst of
times.
I have lived in town in pokey student
flats with TVs tuned only to Sky Action – on which I watched the finale of
Alien Resurrection on a daily basis – then in Rusholme, where a burglar shat in
my yard and a DNA officer inspecting the scene asked me if I’d ever met Steve
Coogan, ‘and was he a dickhead in reality too?’ I lived above Abduls, on whose
food I briefly subsisted, stealing wi-fi from a Chinese exchange student and
never having to heat the flat, which was so warm in the summer months, I was
physically unable to occupy it most of the time. Eventually I moved to a flat
near Piccadilly, and lived with a rotating cast of characters, starring me as
landlord and handyman.
What’s great about this city?
It’s a massive cliché, but almost
everyone in Manchester loves music, and many more become readily engrossed in
the culture surrounding it. Perhaps this is true of any large condensed
populace, but the people are largely very funny too. But it’s mainly great for
all the brilliant, life changing experiences and opportunities it has afforded
me over the years. Or, perhaps I have afforded them to myself? Perhaps the real
city, is inside myself…? (It’s not, it’s in Manchester.)
What’s not so great?
I think the city centre as a whole has
declined rapidly, and the atmosphere is markedly sour compared to less than a
decade ago. The cuts to resources for the homeless or those with mental health
or drug problems has disenfranchised people on a huge scale; From a humanitarian
angle, it’s unjustifiable, and from a more cynical tourist board perspective,
it doesn’t present the city in the best light. Obviously the blame here doesn’t
necessarily lie locally, though. I also worry that the city’s small enough to
be almost entirely franchised and operated by half a dozen powerhouses across
retail, clubbing, dining… It’s great that there’s money and ambition available
still, but a streak of independence and even the sort of radicalism that the
city’s cultural heritage often trumpets wouldn’t go amiss, albeit from those
with far more imagination and conviction than most of us, myself included, are
able to offer.
Do you have a favourite Manchester
building?
I don’t have much of a taste or sense for
good architecture, although I’d like to. I enjoy the corridor of university and
residential buildings on Whitworth Street, and the general feel and sights of
the Palace/Cornerhouse junction. I seriously hope that the latter building
stays put.
Do you have a favourite Mancunian?
My favourite living Mancunian is probably
Kosmonaut’s bookings manager and former Piccadilly Records staff member, Pasta
Paul. Not only is he one of my favourite DJs - which is saying something as he
can’t mix for shit - but he loves the city more than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s
still dashing around from gig to gig, opening to opening and record shop to
record shop without a shred of disillusion, or the usual ego and expectations
that consume some ‘local characters’. He has achieved what is surely one of the
UK’s largest network of friends without ever succumbing to Facebook, and has
not but a bad word to say of anyone. He is an immaculately dressed force for
good in what can occasionally feel like a sea of ridiculously attired cynics.
Pasta Paul aside, I would have really
loved to have met Tony Wilson, especially as I have a fondness for old Granada
TV idents as much as acid house. Like many, I feel like Manchester’s musical
heritage has occasionally been frequently pillaged for personal gain by many of
those instrumental in it, but in and of itself, Factory is perhaps one of the
most important labels of all time, and yes, Vinni Riley is good music to chill
out to.
What’s your favourite
pub/bar/club/restaurant/park/venue?
I love clubs, and I love them best when
they’re dark, loud, full of smoke and not entirely welcoming at first glance. I
really think Soup Kitchen’s basement is, on a good night, up there with the
best in terms of a space to dance, and definitely one of the few dancefloors I
feel most comfortable playing records to. Dan, who books Soup Kitchen’s club,
has afforded it an amazing reputation in the face of massive competition, never
allowing the listings to go stale, and maintains a wry sense of humour or
perspective when I’d potentially be losing my mind.
I really like Albert Hall, which is a
great example of what happens when several ambitious organisations take a risk
on a venue that probably seemed obvious to a knowing few for so long. I love
This and That, which even despite a few dodgy visits of hundreds, will always
remain my personal victor in the endless Northern Quarter Rice and Three war. I
still love Common, whatever’s on the wall there, and whatever they do to make
their fries taste really good.
I enjoy strolling through Granby Row,
beneath the railway arches, which feels pleasantly secluded and is as good of a
bench sitting spot as any in the city. As well as the Archimedes statue, I
particularly enjoy the ‘Vimto Bottle’ monument, which I genuinely thought was a
really durable inflatable promoting the drink for far longer than I should
have.
What do you think is missing from
Manchester?
Following on from the above, I’d love to
see more green space, which has always felt exclusive to the greater suburbs. I
hope one of the occasional plans to transform Stevenson Square or the like into
a greener environment comes through. But that it is genuine green space, not a
continuation the council have of adding relatively miniscule patches of grass
amid largely stone or concrete areas. I would rather see relatively miniscule
patches of stone and concrete amid large areas of grass. I know you’re not
supposed to say that sort of thing nowadays, but deal with it, incredibly well
paid town planners!
If I was Mayor for a day I would …
Make sure I went somewhere dead nice to
get a sandwich at lunch, and then keep the receipt, say I was having a meeting,
and claim it back on expenses at a later date.
Who else would you like to nominate to
answer this questionnaire?
Mick Hucknall.
