By Tom Lanham photo by Viktoriya Vucheva

ike a lot of us over the past three COVIDconstricted years , I – as both a journalist and a human being , in general – spent a great deal of time looking back , reflecting on past decisions , discoveries , and early drug-related derailments , and not always comfortably . I ’ ve made a few mistakes over my crazy , always-colorful 46- year career , and I see it all quite clearly now , in 20 / 20 retrospect . But if there ’ s one thing I ’ ve always staunchly stood for , it ’ s this : The sheer aesthetic joy of discovering an incredible , inimitable rock and roll band like Leeds , England ’ s Sisters of Mercy , which revolved around the cryptic , sepulchral crooning of its key founding member , Andrew Eldritch – usually on the ground floor , just as they were starting out ( one of the few perks of doing this job for so long – and doggedly championing them to readers from that point forward . Has anyone followed me on my selfless , art-loving journey ” I hope so . But ultimately , I have no idea since I detest Twitter , Facebook , and Instagram and therefore never took the time to build any kind of social-media following at all . I just didn ’ t care – I always believed that a single Sisters article , like the first one I penned for a daily paperback in the mid- ‘ 80s , celebrating the band ’ s definitive official debut disc First and Last and Always – would be enough .

And now , with mortality always on my mind after having nearly died a couple , three times since 2017 ( don ’ t ask ; knock wood , I ’ m still here ), I am truly , truly grateful to have had such life-changing epiphanies as that transcendent Goth-rocking album , along with the rest of their finite but formidable catalog ( its quantum-leap 1987 followup Floodland , a Tony-James-backed 1990 Goth / metal mashup , Vision Thing , plus an early-singles-and

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EPs anthology , Some Girls Wander By Mistake ”). Toss in other equally-inventive outfits from that halcyon post-punk era , such as The Psychedelic Furs , Echo and the Bunnymen , and , of course , Joy Division and its later incarnation of New Order , and I ’ ve always had a gale-force wind behind me , billowing my Reasons-I-Still-Do-This sails . With all that often dark lockdown musing , naturally , came uplifting Sisters of Mercy , like its visceral concert at San Francisco ’ s Kabuki Theater , when guitarist / frequent-composer Wayne Hussey was still in the group , before he and bassist Craig Adams left in 1986 to form The Sisterhood , then The Mission . It was a stunning , you-really-had-tobe there affair , as the black-garbed , bolero-hatted , Rayban-masked musicians took the stage behind monolithic drum machine Doktor Avalanche , barely visible in a chilly miasma of dry-ice vapors . And similarly , it ’ s hard to describe how any Goth- Club dance floor can immediately spark to life the minute the first few notes took hold from anthemic singles like “ Marian ,” “ Lucretia My Reflection ” and an eleven-minute crescendo called “ This Corrosion .” Punks , New Wavers , Metalheads , it didn ’ t matter – if you were in the house when Eldritch ’ s voice rattled the rafters with that operatic “ Hey , now / Hey , now , now / Sing this corrosion to me ,” you fucking had to move . Your body had no choice .

And the best part of all this wistful reminiscing ? It ’ s another life lesson hammered home during the lockdown : The Sisters of Mercy , remarkably , still sound equally relevant – and pulse-pounding powerful – today , which is no mean feat . In fact , there were depressing days – or maybe nights – I woke up , and nothing , absolutely fucking nothing could rally my flagging spirit like

punching up , say , the band ’ s classic indictment of Hollywood decadence , “ Black Planet ,” or its grim , rippling “ Ribbons .” Two negatives , you might say , always made an existence-affirming positive , and I found the same timeless comfort in the Bunnymen ’ s classic “ Ocean Rain ” and the Furs ’ “ Mirror Moves .” It didn ’ t matter that Eldritch – for a variety of reasons , including a lengthy contractual dispute with his old UK label , EastWest Records – hasn ’ t bothered to release another album after Vision Thing ( he ’ s still writing new material , which is then only performed live )— his canon is gold-embossed and eternal , and just waiting to be discovered by each successive generation . I personally do my perpetual-champion part ; Over lockdown , throughout the roughly 500 artists I ’ ve spoken to since March of 2020 , I can ’ t even recall how many young musicians I ’ ve hipped to Eldritch and company , and many had only heard about their bassheavy power , but all were intensely curious about their unique sound and swore they were going to unearth the Sisters catalog . And who knows / Maybe it will help shape their various songwriting approaches , or maybe not . All I know is I once again played my simple synaptic role . As I tell every artist I personally pick to support at interview ’ s end : “ You made a great album . Now I ’ ll do my part and spread the word !” And I fucking damn sure mean it .

It makes perfect sense , then , that Eldritch – who turns a Beatles-celebrated 64 exactly four days after I do this May – would reconnect with me in an appropriately curious fashion . When my home phone incessantly rang one recent Saturday morning , I angrily picked up the receiver to hear a telemarketing-polite voice address me by name and inquire if it was actually me . To which I

snarled , “ Yeah . So who the fuck are you ?” There was a pause , a polite throat-clearing cough , then an unfazed , gentlemanly , “ This is Mr . Andrew Eldritch . And I heard you wanted to talk to me ?” And I did . For the current North American Sisters of Mercy tour , But I had zero expectation of an interview ever happening with this notoriously reclusive rock star .

Yet this is the spontaneous way the man works . He has no email account , so he was basically just phoning up to schedule the chat himself for the next morning . “ And set a couple of hours aside because I intend to ramble ,” he vowed . A promise he delivered on – our talk lasted for nearly two hours and pin-balled from our mutual friendship with the late , great Mark Lanegan ( turns out the Sisters were occupying a rehearsal studio next to Lanegan and his touring ensemble right before he passed , he recalled , “ And the more we pressed our ears to the wall , listening , the more we thought , ‘ Hey ! He kind of sounds like us now !’”) to the reasons why Floodland has no discernible date stamp . “ I think that ’ s because , immediately after punk , there was a lot of iconoclasm going on ,” he swears . “ And we didn ’ t agree with that . We were all for bringing back some of the elements of what is now called Classic Rock , so we reintroduced a few of those elements , and I think The Bunnymen did the same thing , and The furs most certainly did , and all those other bands from that era that are still with us .” And this was just for casual openers – the rest of the rare Andrew Eldritch IE discussion follows … And again , I hope you readers are pickin ’ up what I ’ m puttin ’ down .

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