Music, Style & Culture

20 Years Since ‘Loveless’: A Love(less) Letter

That joyful, wallowing, cacophony of sound. 'Loveless'.

Simone Scott Warren

Writer

Somewhere in a field in trendy East London last year, watching some terrible terrible Bobby Gillespie side project and wondering how much cider needs to be consumed in order to make this more bearable, the realisation strikes me that I am stood next to Kevin Shields. Kevin bloody Shields. Who once upon a time, twenty years ago, set out on a seemingly one man mission to document the noises in his head, and in doing so created a record that's quite rightfully universally acknowledged to be an absolute masterpiece. An undertaking that almost bankrupted the band's label, Creation, a man who's infamously 'difficult' (read: impossible) to work with. Shields, who allegedly surrounded his house with barbed wire and sandbags and filled it with Chinchillas. Stood next to me, wiry hair and beer in hand, is the same bloke who created an album that for twenty years has had a regular spot on my stereo. That joyful, wallowing, cacophony of sound. 'Loveless'.

What to say, then? Nothing? I'm pretty sure he's spotted my open mouthed sideways glances and frantic nudging of friends. “Kevin Shields!” (whisper it). Eventually, I pluck up the courage to say hello and ask him to pose with a photo with a friend. He does so, amicably, talks to us for a short while, displaying no signs of having attempted to rival Brian Wilson's musically induced breakdown. After he scuttles off back to the safety of the VIP area, random members of the crowd come up and ask us, who was that? Kevin bloody Shields, what the hell is wrong with these hipsters?

Because if we're trying to ascertain exactly why he's so important, why the twentieth birthday of this record shouldn't pass unmentioned, then consider this; if there's any merit to be taken from the measure of an album's influence, 'Loveless' has to be one of the all time most 'borrowed' albums. Cited as an inspiration for so many bands in the past twenty years, from Mogwai, Radiohead, Yo La Tengo, Sigur Ros, through to relatively new kids on the block, The Pains of Being Pure At Heart, Yuck, Ringo Deathstarr, the list goes on and on. The Cure's Robert Smith once described 'Loveless' as one of his “all-time three favourite records. It's the sound of someone who is so driven that they're demented”. Despite only reaching number 24 on it's release, twenty years on, MBV are almost certainly rivalling the Velvet Underground in the 'band that inspired every other band' stakes.

But I can't actually remember the first time I heard 'Loveless', it feels as though it's always been with me. I know it was on tape, not a proper tape that I'd gone out and bought, no, one that someone had 'done' for me. Presumably it was a gift from some boy who knew the way to my heart was through hushed vocals, feedback and piercing guitars. I wish I could remember who it was, because I probably should have married him. It's a good rule, always judge a potential suitor by their taste in music; if they tell you they don't love 'Loveless', you may as well stop the car now. Not knowing the record, well, that's vaguely forgivable, if only because it gives you an opportunity to play it and test out their reactions.

And remember to play it loud. Ear-bleedingly loud, to get the full effect, after all, this is the band who caused a mass vomit-a-thon purely due to the sheer volume at one of their reunion gigs. If they're not hooked by the opening smatter of drums and howling guitar licks of 'Only Shallow', walk away. Should they see the beauty lurking in 'When You Sleep', the sonic cathedral of noise that envelopes 'Only I said', the swirling, lush pleasures wrapped up in 'Blown a Wish', they're good. But if they make it to the nigh on seven minute long closer 'Soon', and understand why Brian Eno described it as “setting a new standard for pop”, why finding yourself chatting to Kevin Shields in a field in Shoreditch might just be a moment you'll treasure always, well, they might just be a keeper.