My Greatest Mistake: Andrew Collins, Presenter, BBC6 Music
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.It was 24 October 1988 and I was working as a design assistant at the NME, my first job in the media, laying out pages the old-fashioned way: cut-and-paste using scalpel, Letraset and carcinogenic spray-mount glue. Though I had trained to be a designer I harboured none-too-secret dreams of becoming a music journalist and had been bothering all the section editors ever since I got inside the building. They were beginning to crack and I had had one or two reviews printed.
Then, my big break. The features editor James Brown (yes, he who would one day launch Loaded) heard that I was a fan of the little-known West Midlands Goth rock band Balaam and the Angel.
James told me I was to go off to Leicester to write my first NME feature, as Balaam were playing at the university. A whole new world of rock'n'roll glamour had opened up for me; this was my first step to becoming the new Paul Morley.
I successfully interviewed the band in their dressing room (I did, at least, have all their records) and politely and inexpertly smoked some of their dope. But it all went to pot when they said, "Help yourself to the rider."
I drank all of their vodka while they were off having their photo taken, and then pints of beer on top. When the gig began, I wobbled up to the balcony to watch through a drunken haze. I remember the first number and then nothing until the band gave my girlfriend a leg-up over the toilet door to retrieve my inert form two hours later. They'd been looking all over the university for me, while I'd been happily sleeping, curled around the toilet bowl.
I'm sure Balaam thought it very funny. The landlady at our B&B didn't when I vomited on the landing carpet at one o'clock in the morning. The train back to London the next day was so full we had to stand all the way - my penance for making such a premature dash for rock'n'roll Valhalla. And I left my wallet at the B&B. Can it really have been like this for Paul Morley? Probably, yes.
Andrew Collins presents his Teatime show on BBC6 Music 4-7pm weekdays
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments