When I left college in 1978, after having spent most of the previous 12 months seeing punk bands play live and recovering from said activity, I wanted to write for the NME. I ended up getting a job on Horse & Hound magazine. Still going to see punk bands in the evenings. Contemplating jumping into the Thames during my lunch breaks. One day, in late 1978, I walked into the NME offices in Carnaby Street, informed Gary Crowley, who did indeed personify the large sign hanging above his head which read, 'Here sits the world's loudest receptionist', that I had a news story of such magnitude that the editor, Neil Spencer, needed to see me straight away or I would cross the street and sell it to the Melody Maker. I was ushered into his office. On the way, I passed Nick Kent in the corridor, dressed head-to-toe in black leather, eating a loaf of bread by scooping out the middle with long bony fingers and cramming it into his mouth, his remaining bony fingers clutching scraps of paper (including torn-up cigarette boxes) on which were scribbled his latest opus for publication in that week's issue. This was the sort of journalistic set up I wanted to be a part of. I told Neil Spencer that I didn't have a story, but would like a job on the NME, please. He sent me out to review Adam and the Ants at The Marquee. I freelanced on a fairly regular basis for the NME for quite a while after that.
It's all rather hazy from there on. Mainly, I remember it was a lot of fun, and an excellent way to earn a living (I use that term loosely from a financial and a work ethic point of view). Oh my daze. A few random recollections:
Interviewing Iggy Pop in the shower in Santa Monica because that was the only quiet place we could find to talk. That's what he told me, anyway. He was wearing a hand towel tied round his waist. I was fully clothed.
Being 'kidnapped' by The Stranglers in Portugal during the filming of the video for Nuclear Device, missing the plane home, flying across the Channel in a very small plane chartered by the band, supping Remy Martin. Ending up in Luton. When I lived in London.
Getting absolutely slaughtered in every bar and club in Liverpool with Frankie Goes To Hollywood on the night they went straight to Number One with 'Relax'. Then almost getting sacked from No.1 magazine two days later, after having phoned in sick, not realising that photographs had emerged of me dancing on the rooftop of a car with Holly Johnson that night.
Running my battered old Beetle into the back of a stationary car in the King's Road while giving Bryan Ferry a lift post Interview.
Babysitting Dave Vanian's two black rats, Edgar and Allan, whenever The Damned went on tour.
Doing a runner from The Slits tour after having put up with two days of them refusing to speak to me even though they'd agreed to an interview for The Face. Then being told I still had to deliver copy, so duly chronicling my observations and thoughts on The Slits and then carefully avoiding them for a while afterwards.
Having a stand-up row onstage with Siouxsie during a Banshees soundcheck in Manchester somewhere, having given the band a bad review in the previous week's NME. I actually loved the Banshees. One of the roadies later told me Sioux had asked him to drop a speaker on my head, but that The Cure's Robert Smith had objected as I was there to interview him.
John Lydon recording a message for my very first telephone answering machine: "Deanne's not 'ere at the moment, but if you leave a message, she might ring you back."
It was the NME and the early days of The Face that were the best, for me. The music and the people of that time, the thoughts, opinions and anti-establishment rants that were expressed, in music and in words.
List of articles in the library by artist
Live Review by Deanne Pearson, New Musical Express, January 1980
THE LAST thing I heard in 1979 and the first thing I heard in 1980 were rocksteady ska rhythms from two bands connected with what ...
Interview by Deanne Pearson, Face, The, January 1981
THIS IS THE hardcore faction. Spiked hair, leather jackets, the backs emblazoned with the logos of Crass, UK Subs, Adam & The Ants. Hordes of ...
Profile and Interview by Deanne Pearson, Smash Hits, December 1980
"I JUST couldn't believe it. I just kinda stood there with a blank stare on my face, thinking oh God — it really happened!" ...
Interview by Deanne Pearson, Smash Hits, January 1981
Deanne Pearson visits Ice Records and talks to The Boss (Eddy Grant), The Leading Artist (Eddy Grant), The Band (Eddy Grant), The Chief Engineer (Eddy ...
Interview by Deanne Pearson, Smash Hits, April 1981
DEANNE PEARSON DISCUSSES THE FUTURE WITH MARK SMITH, LEADER OF MANCHESTER'S MOST MILITANT COMBO. ...
Profile and Interview by Deanne Pearson, Smash Hits, August 1981
Deanne Pearson learns to Dance, Scream & Scoobydoo ...
Interview by Deanne Pearson, Face, The, April 1981
Poolswinning Yorkshire musicians syndicate, Hugo Burnham, Dave Allen, Jon King and Andy Gill, pictured with the small change from their record-breaking swoop on EMI's Treble ...
Interview by Deanne Pearson, Face, The, July 1980
Whenever it rains/I think of you And I always remember that day in May When I saw you walking in the rain I know not what it was nor why For ...
Report and Interview by Deanne Pearson, New Musical Express, November 1979
Deanne Pearson puts the cat among the pigeons and scotches some nasty rumours. ...
Interview by Deanne Pearson, Face, The, December 1982
• Svengali turned singer Malcolm McLaren has — canny as ever — recorded one of the debut singles of the year, 'Buffalo Gals', after months ...
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