THE INTERVIEW: The following stimulating discourse took place on a Thursday afternoon. The participants were guitarist Clive Langer, drummer Tim Whittaker, bassist Frankie Average, the Reverend Max Ripple, and vocalist Eric Shark.
Any similarity or resemblance to persons living or dead is purely accidental.

The night, before, during one of Corky Laing's numerous drum solos, several band members expressed the feeling that winning the annual Melody Maker pop/rock contest several years back was in retrospect more of a hinderance than a help.
"For one thing," Shark points out, "it made us do the first album too early. We would have naturally gotten to the point where we would have progressed and been signed to a label without the contest. Then we wouldn't have made that album prematurely."

Negative consequence number 2 was the reaction of the British media. Suddenly Deaf School exploded in a sea of full page adverts and superlative accolades, smelling unfortunately like hype.

"The press don't like us in England because of that contest," Langer believes. "They didn't see us on a grass roots level and consequently thought we just appeared overnight.

"We came off a bit manufactured," Eric continues, "which wasn't at all true because we had done a lot of groundwork."

Another stumbling block was the arrival of punk rock, a force which stole the spotlight from Deaf School, leaving them stranded, a band without categories or labels.

"One problem is that it's good to have an underground pose," says the Reverend, gesturing as if to emphasise he's the only one without a glass. "Most punk rock bands have that pose but we were given this very slick image, stagey and showy even though we weren't at all like that. Actually we were a bit threadbare at the time."

"Some people ignore us because they can't put any labels on us," Whittaker says looking pleased with their elusiveness. "They don't know where to put us and they don't like it if they can't put you in a box. What's the point of labels?"

"But the public need labels to know what you're about," Langer continued. "They don't know if it's hip to see us. I think we confuse people in England."

The band's scope is as much a cause for confusion as anything else. While visually Deaf School are sophisticated, even exotic, at a grass roots level they are an authentic rock 'n' roll band, playing seventies music with sixties leanings.
"My big thing is to make Deaf School a rock 'n' roll band as well as lots of other things," Langer explains, (he's wearing a Clash badge...) "From the beginning we always wanted to be a band. "

"As opposed to a show?" Whittaker asks.

"Yeah," Clive says adamantly. "If it's coming across strictly like a show then something is wrong. Although people dress up and it's kinda visual, we're just a band."

"It's much easier from my end now," Shark says on behalf of the vocalist faction. "Now that the band are so tight you don't have to think so much about what to do because the music tells you. Before we all had ideas of what we should be doing that didn't quite make it and sometimes got a bit out of control..."

"We're more professional now because the communication in playing and ideas is stronger," Average puts forth.

Most of the band are early Kinks enthusiasts, illustrated in songs like 'Where's The Weekend' or 'Get Set Ready Go'. Even 'Hypertension' is a bit Kinky.

"I thought it was written into our contract that we had to like the Kinks," Eric says sarcastically.

"I don't like old or new Kinks," the Reverend adds dryly. "Just middle aged Kinks."
"Sure a lot of our music comes from the sixties, because we were growing up then, even if we weren't consciously listening to the records saying 'I'm gonna be great in ten years'."

"When we started the band things were getting pretty boring musically in Britain," Langer recalls. "I used to quite like Free but I think Bad Company are terrible. We wanted to do something new. And by doing something new we were looking back at the things that really did work like early Beatles, Kinks and Stones.

"There wasn't so much inspiration around when we started," muses Whittaker.
"Right," Clive agrees instantly. "So you had to go back to try and make it something new. See, we're not really ashamed of ripping people off."

Like Vintage wine, Deaf School are an acquired taste.

"The more you listen to the albums," Whittaker said laughing, "The weirder it gets."

 
© Barbara Charone, 1977 Reproduced by kind permission of