Mass of Black

Mass of Black were the best punk band I’ve ever seen and were the only band worth watching around Bolton in the mid 1980s. Dill’s chainsaw guitar was backed by Yatesy on threatening bass duty and Smiler’s thundering drums, all of whom perfectly complimented Biffo’s vocals and his energetic performances. They were tight, focussed and loud. They were melodic, noisy, and charismatic and as their name indicated, they were always clad in black although sometimes they chucked their t-shirts in their usually hot, sweaty, exciting gigs as prescribed by hardcore punk.

I’ve never been sure why they split up but it did ultimately benefit my band the Food Scientists with Biffo becoming the ever lively front man and Smiler taking on the drum stool driving it all forwards. Both of them easily moved from the perfect punk of Mass of Black to the sprawling fusion/confusion din of the Foodies.

Mass of Black embodied the punk ethos of DIY organisation and were self-taught musicians but when put together they were explosive. I saw them in The Golden Lion and various other joints round the Bolton area and my band the Vacant Spaces also supported them a coupla times but I knew I could never do what they did: their energy created a stripped down Ramones-like punk noise with their powerful drummer giving the guitars a background sound to make a wholesome racket. I remember going down to the Brass Cat (Golden Lion) on a Tuesday on my own to see them and was wiped out. Again. They played like they were in front of 500 people in some skanky Manc venue on a Saturday night and the positivity and solidarity amongst the audience was palpable. What a gig. And on a week night. Not that any of us had jobs to go to the next day. Thank fuck.

With Biff, I have one major regret. In February, 1991, I had gone down to Nottingham where my brother (bassist of the Food Scientists) and a bunch of Bolton punks had ended up. I was living in Manchester at the time, drifting from one pointless job to the next, and I wasn’t doing music or very much else. In Nottingham, I met Biff who told me that he was doing music on a course at Nottingham Trent University and that I should try to get on it. This brief conversation changed my life. When I got back to Manchester, I rang the university up and got told the date for the next open day so a few weeks later I was back in Nottingham for an interview, staying at the house that my brother shared with Stu, one of the Bolton punk diaspora. After ingesting numerous ales and some lethal Californian weed, I came round and found myself in the kneeling position in the front room with my coat on at 4am. How I managed to get through the interview I do not know.

When I got to the university, Biff was there which made me relax somewhat. I spoke to two of the lecturers and got accepted on the course. I graduated with a 1st then moved to London to attend Goldsmith’s College where I got my Ph.D in 1998. I eventually got lecturing gigs in London and then Southampton which developed my academic career.

When people pass on, we always think of things we should have told them so this is my regret: Biff changed the direction of my life and didn’t even know it because I never had the opportunity to tell him. So thanks a billion Biff, I owe you one.