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Northwest London, 1986.
Mario's Cafe.
A waitress called Silvia with sultry Mediterranean looks, a mug of tea and a fried egg sandwich spots three herberts at the table next to her talking about their new band. She only catches the occasional word as she reads her stars and dreams of Sicily: "Punk Rock.Motown. Minor Threat.Miners' Strikes.Motorhead.DC.early Who.Two Tone.SX200.'Hey ho, let's go'."
Snuff are born.
They leave the cafe taking with them a vision of punk rock for a new generation. And the plastic, tomato-shaped ketchup thing.
Two years later and the first single, Not Listening, and debut album, Snuff Said, are released on Worker's Playtime, and the band take their sounds from the street out on the road in the trusty tour van (because they can't get the amps on the back of the Lambrettas…). Along the way the unlikely lads convert thousands to the new sound of Piaggio Punk, taking over where The Specials left off, turning the deserted dance floors of Ghost Towns into adrenaline- and speed-fuelled nights of stage-diving, where punks, mods, skins and all the other young dudes storm the stage every night.
They add the bravest trombonist in the world about now, and - although they didn't know it - they then set about writing the blueprint for the sound of the California 'burbs eight years later. Green Day, Offspring, Blink 182? Man, Snuff wrote that fucking book, joined the dots and coloured it in long ago!
The next album, the delightfully-titled Flibbidydibbidydob, was a covers album paying homage to heroes and pissing on the graves of villains. Reach, released on their own 10 past 12 label, was released in 1991, and then came the moment of triumph for the band and fans alike - a sold-out show at London's Kilburn National. The final vindication!
The final show…
Bugger.
It took three years for them to come back. A new deal with Fat Wreck Chords for the States and Deceptive for the Elephant and Castle, the addition of a Hammond Organ and Loz in on a free transfer for Simon on guitar: they were off again, stronger than before, better than ever.
An album, Demmamussabebonk, and an EP, Long Ball To No-One, quickly followed. From Tufnell Park to Tokyo we learned to love them again, the man from the NME and the Kwik Fit fitter pogoing together at the LA2, the mohican doing Northern Soul steps at the Garage, the blistering appearance at the Reading Festival in '99.
It took the NME 13 years to declare them "the best band in the world", but now - who'd've thought it? - their time had come. They finished 2000 by selling out London's Astoria and touring Europe…
2001 gets off to a bang with a new mini-album release, Blue Gravy: Phase 9, recorded with Paul Corket and Terry Edwards, who has played with the likes of Gallon Drunk, Madness, Nick Cave and Jimi Tenor. At first glance Terry may seem an unlikely choice as producer for the greatest living punk band - however, Duncan met Terry as they were both making a grab for the same rare Northern Soul record, they got talking, and a bond was formed. Terry was joined in the producer's chair by Paul Corket, who has worked recently with Placebo amongst many others.
