Johnny Depp, who has inspired a New York hardcore band called Gay for Johnny Depp.
Only a fool would enter the music business to try and get rich. And only a particular kind of fool would start a record label to do anything other than release some records.
With this in mind and inspired by Factory and Dischord back in 2003 I and some friends started a small self-funded record label dealing in limited releases of bands we'd heard on drunken nights out. Bands who you'll rarely hear on the radio.
Initially, our rhetoric spoke of wanting to end the tired practices of the music business in order to create a space in an industry which we saw as becoming increasingly unsympathetic to non-commercial or non-profitable music. Soon however the reality set in: people don't care about ethics or ideology. They want their music cheap - or preferably free.
Undeterred we continued, surviving through tenacity and the goodwill of our distributor (to this day we have no office, phone line or expense account). Each release sells just enough to fund the next one and we're now approaching our 40th. A couple of singles have scraped into the top 75.
At a time when morale reserves are running low, our latest release is arguably our least commercial venture yet, the debut album by a New York hardcore band called Gay for Johnny Depp. Singing songs devoted to sexual fantasies concerning Johnny Depp and delivered with ferocious intent, The Politics of Cruelty is another glorious shot in the foot.
The question is: how to market and sell a release that is wilfully offensive, an enemy of melody yet nevertheless a perfectly constructed piece of provocative art? Getting the open-minded but not particularly pro-homo traditional rock press on side wasn't going to be easy.
Dispensing with the traditional route, we're instead going for the jugular. The standard, press release has been dropped in favour of a smutty story in keeping with the themes of the band. Recipients of the promotional copies of album may have also found a nice selection of rubber gloves, lubricant and photos of some fierce-looking bears flopping onto their desk.
What little marketing budget there is has been spent on a few choice adverts and a wildly enthusiastic publicist. The rest of the coverage has been down to pulling favours, harassing magazine editors and launching a series of email assaults. Fortunately, two previous EPs and UK tours (one of which began with an audience member hospitalising singer Marty Leopard on the opening night - reported in the UK press as "a homophobic attack") and their choice band name has established a reputation of sorts. There's also the fact that the band are extremely diligent. They make their own videos, book their own tours and never complain - about anything. This in itself is an achievement.
Amazingly, we appear to be doing something right. As the albums hit the stores the reviews are filtering in. Q and Uncut have written unexpectedly positive reviews, as have a dozen websites, with reviews to follow from NME, Kerrang! and most other music magazines. Radio 1 have also been vaguely supportive with Huw Stevens setting a new record for most expletives heard in a song when he previously aired an track called No Teeth, Thumbs Up (which features approximately 40-odd 'fucks'). Result.
Naturally, The Politics Of Cruelty is not going to sell many copies at all. But in an age when challenging, confrontational music has never been more marginalised every positive fan email received or copy sold feels like a victory of sorts. Above all else, as we enter our fifth year of breaking even, collectively the label and bands take pride in knowing that art need not be driven by financial concerns. And adulthood is still a long way off yet.
