Fragments of Unpopular Culture 6: Where's Dan Treacy Now?

Recently, news has emerged of the ill-health of Television Personalities frontman Dan Treacey. He has sustained head injuries, cause unknown. Here's a review I wrote of their April 2010 gig at The Cluny; it may explain things. Incidentally, my cousin John HATED this review.

In many ways, I think obscurantist elitism is a reasonable personal philosophy to avow. I voted Communist at the last General Election, I support Percy Main Amateurs and I think going to see Vic Godard on a Sunday night is a populist gesture; frankly, I’m used to being in small crowds. This is why when I heard the Television Personalities were playing The Cluny, I was in a state of near hysteria for at least a month beforehand.

Essentially, my musical tastes haven’t evolved that much in the past thirty-odd years. In 1978 I bought dozens of DIY 7-inch post punk releases, on account of half hearing John Peel playing them on my badly tuned transistor that I kept hidden under the bedclothes. One chilly November night, aged 14, I called in to “Listen Ear” records on Ridley Place in Newcastle and shelled out just less than two quid that I’d scrimped and saved from my school dinner money to get a couple of complementary releases; “The Malcolm McLaren Life Story EP” by The O-Levels and “Where’s Bill Grundy Now” by The Television Personalities. I particularly loved how the musicians on these records were as inept on the guitar as I was. I found their DIY spirit life-affirming and essential and it still exists as the spark that attracts me to all the music I’ve loved since; a spirit of independence and innovative aesthetics that rejects career moves in favour of integrity.

The Television Personalities disappeared off my radar until 1992 when a magazine I was writing for at the time ("Paint It Red") asked me to review their album “Closer To God.” The sound had changed: darker, more melancholy, less whimsical and dangerously musically proficient. It appeared that only the original singer Dan Treacy was with the band still and the songs were an exorcism of his personal demons. I gave it a positive review and the band disappeared off my radar, with only “The Part Time Punks” from a Rough Trade compilation on my ipod to remind me of their existence. However, a new turntable purchased the other Christmas has allowed me to rediscover my old 7-inch treasures; pragVEC, Fish Turned Human, Swell Maps, Essential Logic and dozens more, including “Where’s Bill Grundy Now?”

When the gig was announced, I started to delve in to the internet netherworld to find what happened to The Television Personalities, whose name and experiences are interchangeable with Dan Treacy; the answer was a recorded CV extensive enough to make Billy Childish blush and a personal story that told of a tough life and many, many setbacks on the way; problems with drink, drugs and mental illness, not to mention periods of homelessness and imprisonment. However, stories hinted at life looking up for him, with recent releases and a new backing band.

I headed to The Cluny on Easter Saturday full of hope and was pleased to run in to several friends and acquaintances who’d never see 45 again, all looking forward to one of those rare occasions where a minor legend graces us with his presence. Frankly, I very rarely regret attending gigs, no matter how bad the band, but on this occasion I felt as if I’d been responsible for the unnecessary exploitation of a tragic figure, who is clearly desperately unwell and not long for this life if he continues in this fashion. Drunk doesn’t even begin to describe the shambolic state he was on as he eventually staggered on stage.

Unlike Vic Godard, the consummate professional who combines a responsible job as a postman with carrying the torch for angular post punk, Dan Treacy is a shambles. Vic may look like Charles Hawtrey transmogrifying in to Martin O’Neill, but he drinks Rachel’s organic milk on stage. Dan Treacy drank anything and everything he could get his hands on. Slurring incoherently, he combined the worst behaviour of Mark E Smith and Shane McGowan; he insulted the audience, dropped his guitar repeatedly, missed lyrics, made 4 atrocious attempts to sing “All Tomorrow’s Parties” and appeared confused, dazed and on the point of collapse.

However, he isn’t just a drunk. He is ill. He needs medical care; he does not need to be on stage, as a kind of post punk Bethlehem Asylum touring show. Many of the people I knew at the gig left early, disgusted, appalled and ashamed, not by Dan Treacy, but at the musicians who surround him and indulge him, instead of seeking help for him and at themselves for being party to such a sickening spectacle. I stayed, hoping a miracle would occur and everything would be alright. That didn't happen of course.

I came home after the gig and wept bitterly at the torture I had endured. Poor Dan; I hope you get help soon, or I fear you’ll not see Christmas.