Hannett was a 'distinct' personality. Despite hearing so much about him, I never engineered for him until a couple of years before his death.
The first time was just bizarre. -I had NO idea what to expect...
Sparing some of the gory details, suffice to say that at about 7PM he dropped off the muiltitracks, and then disappeared for a few hours for a few drinks at the local pub.
When he returned, he said "Right then... -Let me hear what you've done with it."
I pressed play while he sat on the bench seat behind me. About a third of the way through I started to hear some odd noises which I didn't recall putting in the mix... they were cacophonous and arhythmic. -I couldn't tell where they were coming from, and didn't want to solo anything or stop the tape and interrupt his listening.
When I turned around to see if his face gave a clue as to what he thought of the mix... I saw what the noise was. -He was snoring quietly.
-So I stopped the playback, and thought about what to do.
eventually, I decided to carry on tweaking, and wait for him to wake up.
After a couple of hours I was largely through with everything, and that was when I heard a sudden uncomfortable stirring behind me. -Martin bundled around for a couple of seconds, then leapt to his feet, thrust a defiant finger in the air and announced "Fly this control room to Cuba!" ...-and then promptly fell back asleep.
Another couple of hours went by, during which I re-checked the machine alignment, readied the 2-track, had a sandwich, listened to the mix a couple more times, and generally waited for direction. (without getting specific, I wasn't expecting him to wake up and be lively any time soon.)
He eventually woke up, definitely more refreshed this time, and announced that he wanted to hear what I'd done.
I offered him some coffee, and pressed play, then went to fetch a cup for him. When I got back, he reached over, pressed 'stop' and announced that it was utter crap. -He pulled all the faders down (but left everything else alone) and wanted to re-balance afresh. -We got as far as the snare drum when he asked "where are the Marshall time modulators?"
I pointed to the late model MTM in our rack, and asked if he wanted me to patch it in...
He looked slightly baffled, got up, went to inspect the unit, and said "this isn't mine... -where are mine?" -I was a little puzzled, but then he disappeared to the reception lobby, reappeared with a pair of older MTMs under his arm, and apologized profusely for forgetting to give them to me when he arrived.
"THIS is why it was sounding so f#*!ing crap" he announced excitedly. I patched them in, and he sent the snare to both, having first randomly set the controls. "Pan 'em wide" was his only instruction to me.
"Thaaaaaat's better!" he declared as a wild, random, stereo-mismatched, pitch-swinging "boi-oi-oi-oiinnng!!!" accompanied each snare stroke.
Within twenty minutes, after pushing up the faders one more time, we printed the mix.
Bizarre.
I'd never worked with such an 'out of it' guy. -Don't think I have since, either.
Martin did indeed pull a gun on Tony Wilson. That (I think) was about the time of the 'gap' in his resume.
That movie was such a sickening beatification of Tony Wilson that I couldn't take it seriously. I never really liked Tony's self-serving vanity, and in my opinion the film re-painted far too many of his errors -foolish or otherwise- as intentionally quixotic; as though he understood what he was doing and always planned things that way. -Not at all so in real life, I'm afraid. but if people understand that, then it's amusing enough entertainment.
I did work with him a few more times before his death, and -eventually- became quite relaxed around him. One time I made some now-forgotten -but definitely 'surreal' wise crack, and noticed his shoulders shaking under that mop of curly hair... Then he turned, smiling to me and said:
"That's why I like you so much, Andrews... You're just as f#*!ing stupid as me!!!"
That's the Martin I'd rather remember. -He was a smart, funny guy. He definitely had his demons though, and might also have been someone who needed to be continuously challenged. He seemed to loathe and despise boredom, and gave every impression of either living for an experimental challenge, or needing to dull the sense of boredom... though that's just my view.
Fascinating bloke. -the dark, menacing, gloomy emptiness of some of his early work, stuff like John Cooper Clarke's backing music still makes me shiver...lord, I'd LOVE to have worked on something like that.
Keith
