Unlocked and Loaded: Inside James Brown’s Animal House
NICE WORK: James Brown about to interview Michael Caine for GQ magazine
The Crow’s Nest, a music column by Russ Litten
Exclusive interview with Loaded founder James Brown, whose autobiography, Animal House, is out now
Rewind to the summer of 2008. I’m sat on the top floor of an office suite on Tottenham Court Road with James Brown, where I am employed as a script writer for the film director Guy Ritchie. The walls are lined with DVDs and story boards. There is a fridge in the corner rammed full of vintage champagne and expensive gourmet chocolates. A photo of Madonna rests on one of the desks. Above our heads is a rooftop garden that commands panoramic views of London. On the floor below there is a freshly delivered rail of complimentary polo shirts from Fred Perry. My job is to lounge about here all day coming up with ideas for Hollywood movies. Occasionally, I slip outside to the fleshpots of Soho to attend a premiere or appear as guest on daytime television. It is a world away from Newland Avenue, and without doubt the best, most head-spinning job I have ever had. James has popped in to see me on his way to another appointment. He asks me how it’s all going and casts a bemused eye around the surroundings.
“I wish I could get a job like this”, he says.
This strikes me as a somewhat odd statement given that 1) James has had several jobs like this, and 2) it was James that got me this job in the first place.
It was an unusual remark to make, but then again James Brown is not a usual kind of fellow.
The story of James Brown’s meteoric rise to the top of the publishing industry, and his subsequent crash, burn and re-birth, is unflinchingly documented in his newly published autobiography, Animal House: Music, Magazines, Mayhem. The front cover features a photo of the young James wearing a head of T-Rex curls and a cartoon crown. It’s a fitting image. For a certain period, James must have felt like The King of BritPop Culture. The book is a tale of incredible highs and plenty of rock ‘n’ roll excess / success, but underpinned with a note of personal tragedy. James’ mum suffered from a history of mental illness and took her own life when he was 27. The cumulative effects of living with and without a parent with this most cruel of illnesses found expression in the kind of habits and mindset that both propelled him to the top and very nearly killed him. James records all of this with candour, sensitivity and an unflinching eye for detail, which means that Animal House is both uproariously funny and oddly sobering too. Though mayhem ensues on virtually each turned page, you are guided through it all with the 20-20 hindsight of a troubled soul who has searched deep within himself and is no longer afraid to gaze in the mirror.
James started out as a gobby, sugar-fuelled hyper-active kid selling his music fanzine Attack On Bzag at gigs up and down the UK. The mid to late eighties were a fertile breeding ground for the DIY post-punk ethic, with a nationwide network of writers and artists springing up and making themselves heard. James travelled up and down the country with bands like The Redskins and The Three Johns, hopped up on cheap cider and raw enthusiasm, making connections and flexing his writing wings.
Almost inevitably, he landed a job at the now-deceased music magazine Sounds as a regular writer. Pretty soon, at the age of 22, he was the Features Editor at the legendary NME, which is where I first encountered his work. James’ prose was a kind of turbofuelled psychedelic rant of infectious enthusiasm, like if Hunter S Thompson had been raised in Leeds on a diet of jam sandwiches and amphetamine. As a young devotee of the music press, I hoovered up his every word. I liked it his stuff because it was always enthusiastic, hardly ever snide or self-consciously clever. Any band that James Brown championed was worthy of investigation.
Then came Loaded, a magazine for men that featured all the things that men talked about in the pub, but had not been previously reflected anywhere in any one cultural focal point, certainly not in the mainstream media. It was an instant raging success. Loaded did not so much revolutionise magazine publishing as send it rocketing into outer space, strapped to a Champagne Supernova fuelled on high-octane audacity.
ZEITGEIST: Noel Gallagher on the cover of Loaded
The genius of Loaded was in both the timing and the content. Oasis and Blur were spearheading the Britpop movement, the Premier League / Sky TV partnership had re-packaged football as a shiny tribal leisure option, and Tony Blair’s New Labour were heralding an era of reinvigorated political optimism. Seemingly overnight, London was the Technicolour centre of the universe and James and his merry bunch of men and women were in the eye of the storm.
The magazine itself was packed full of the irreverent, half-drunk nonsense that provided many a lunchtime session down the pub, along with some genuinely funny insights. And, contrary to some claims, Loaded wasn’t just about bosoms and beer. Casual accusations of sexism don’t really stand up to a revised reading of the content. Loaded was just as likely to print a poster of a bacon sandwich as a girl in a bikini. It was never cynical and didn’t sneer at anyone. It’s not an exaggeration to say that Loaded and it’s subsequent influence not only changed magazines, but helped to redefine British popular culture. Suddenly it’s colourful, unabashed reverberations could be felt everywhere, from Chris Evans’ TFI Friday to the newly revamped Radio One. The James Brown of Loaded fame had supposedly transmogrified into a swaggering, snorting, supermodel-dating ball of brilliant bombastic aggression. He had the Midas touch, but it sometimes came with a smack around the chops or two raised fingers, Kes-style.
It couldn’t last and it didn’t. One memorable trip to Brazil culminated in a series of escapades that I won’t recount here, but suffice to say the Loaded press trips were not for the faint-hearted or weak of stomach. They made Motley Crue look like an Alan Bennett-led sewing circle. I’m reminded of that scene from Spinal Tap where the lead singer is emphasising the need for volume when playing rock ‘n’ roll. He points out that the dials on his guitar amp go up to eleven because “ … you turn it up to ten, and where do you go from there?” Loaded, and James in particular, twisted the dial clean off. Such was the level of mayhem on this particular jaunt, one of the local travel guides was moved to comment, “I like James very much, but if he behaves in Rio how he has behaved in Sao Paulo he will be raped and murdered”.
This seemed to be the tentative beginnings of a wake up call. James quit Loaded and embarked on a life of more or less leisure, touring with bands, doing the odd commission, working when he felt like it. However, such was his impressive track record of sales and industry awards there was no way he wasn’t going to be made an offer to tempt him back into publishing. GQ magazine came calling and the high-end world of luxury watches and fashion shows in Milan. From bacon butties to trays of oysters on ice. At this point in the book you can feel the numbness start to creep in, the stomach begin to sour. Things start to get seriously bizarre. It ends quite badly, but also rather brilliantly. I won’t spoil the ending. You’ll have to buy Animal House to find out.
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Fast forward to 2022. I’m sat watching the Pet Shop Boys in Hull Bonus Arena with James. He tells me he’s finished his book, the one about the bloke who started Loaded, who went on tour with U2 and was in a ballet with The Fall, who played football with The Cult, drank liquid acid with the Beastie Boys, and discussed the debatable merits of hot or cold lamb over lunch with Michael Caine.
It’s odd reading a book about someone you know. Or, in this case, someone you only know one version of. The James Brown I have got to know, the man who helped me out with numerous employment opportunities, gave me a place to live in London and offered unending advice and encouragement with my writing, is kind, generous, self-effacing and unassuming to the point of anonymity. The James Brown I know would rather play keepie-uppies on Filey beach with his small son than go clubbing down the Reeperbahn with Primal Scream. Since the turn of the century, his only notable vices, as far as I can see, have been Red Bull, Chocolate Hob Nobs and Leeds Utd. Oh, and writing brilliantly funny, touching and thought-provoking books. I wish I could get a job like that.
INFLUENCE: Author and publisher James Brown, whose Loaded magazine redefined British popular culture
A few questions for James Brown…
Your Dad is a novelist. What advice, if any, did he give you as an aspiring writer?
“None that I can remember as a teenager, he was more influential in the books he gave me, like The Great Shark Hunt and Hells Angels by Hunter S Thompson, and The Electric Cool Aid Acid Test by Tim Wolfe. I think watching him typing opposite my bedroom probably had an impact too.”
You were in a band called The Butter Cookies. Why did you choose to pursue a career in writing about music rather than making it?
“Some mates and I formed a band to gatecrash a peace festival. We had one rehearsal and put posters up saying we were on much to the dismay of the organizer, who didn’t really know how to react to his line-up being hijacked. After that we became quite popular on the local scene but I always figured I was a better writer and editor than singer.”
You must have received tons of demos from hopeful bands whilst at the NME. What made the best ones stand out?
“I had demos at my fanzine and record labels would give us tapes at NME, but mainly we got white labels or advance tapes. I remember opening The Charlatans first single when no one had heard of them for that week’s NME single reviews and it just stood out in its structure and confidence. That was exciting, coming across an act who clearly had it so early on. The Wonder Stuff were the same.”
What made Loaded so successful so quickly?
“It was first into the men’s mass market, it had a self deprecating sense of humour and it covered areas men loved, like football, music, clubbing, drinking, women, cult films and so on, all in the one place for the first time. It was also very well executed.”
‘THE KING OF BRITPOP’: James Brown on the cover of his autobiography, Animal House
What makes a good front cover?
“A combination of a great photograph, strong cover lines and good colours. If you get all three you are perfectly set.”
What, if anything, has replaced magazines? Is print dead?
“Social media, YouTube and podcasts. Far more interaction across a broader media landscape. Print isn’t dead, but it isn’t the big beast it once was.”
Most difficult interview ever? Ever had anyone storm out?
“I interviewed the playwright Steven Berkoff for Sounds when I was about 19. He decided he didn’t want to do it after my first question, but didn’t have the manners or know-how to end it politely. I genuinely can’t remember I saw anything about him anywhere.”
Anyone you would have loved to have interviewed but never had? What would you ask them?
“The woman's magazine Glamour asked me to do a series of interviews with famous actresses I was interested in and I submitted the idea of Julianne Moore, Helen Mirren, Ellen Barkin and Kim Basinger, but they came back and said they were all too old for their audience. That was a pity. I’d like to talk to Paul McCartney about the very beginning of when they realised they were taking off. I think that would be an interesting point to focus on. The experiences that told them life was changing for The Beatles. There are people I wish I’d seen rather than interviewed, so the Small Faces and The Clash and The Faces in their prime, for instance.”
POPULAR: Kylie Minogue on the cover of the ‘swimwear issue’ of Loaded
Do drugs help or hinder creativity?
“It depends what time of the day and what drugs. And I guess it depends on the individual taking them. In my experience it’s extremely hard to write on drugs but you can get a good flow going if you’ve had a couple of drinks.”
From dancing down the front at Redskins gigs to brushing shoulders with royalty - has success changed your political outlook at all?
“I’ve never brushed shoulders with royalty and I’d prefer it if the Royal Family invested a lot of their wealth in helping our schools and health service, so no, I don’t think my political outlook has changed since I was down the front of the Redskins or New Town Neurotics at the Hull Trades and Labour club.”
You’ve travelled all over the world. Favourite cities and why?
“I visited a lot of cities as a music writer and magazine editor and saw a lot of dressing rooms and hotel rooms, but I think the first times I came to London in my later teens, my first time in New York and also Berlin before the wall came down were incredibly exciting. I really like Berlin and New York and Tokyo now. I like the energy of the places. If I didn’t have a nine-year-old son, or if I actually lived with him and his mum, I would have moved to New York or Tokyo by now. So I’m in London being a parent, which is a good thing.”
Favourite goal ever and why?
“It’s an impossible question to answer with one reply, like ‘name your favourite song’. For technical vision, Berkgamp’s spin round the Newcastle keeper. For sheer power and audacity Van Basten’s tight-angled volley. For personal and sentimental reasons Clarke 1-0 in the 1972 FA Cup Final. More recently, Jermaine Beckford scoring a winner for Leeds v Bristol Rovers which got the ten-man LUFC promoted from League 1 in the dying minutes of a game. Pablo Hernandez scoring the goal which got us in the position to be promoted from the Championship, and Joffy’s goal v Norwich, which kept us in touch with staying in the Premier League last year, and then Jack Harrison’s injury time goal which made that secure v Brentford. That’s this minute’s answers, but ask me tomorrow and some would be different. My son’s first goal for the team he played for, goals I’ve scored myself. Endless choices.”
Top three records of all time?
“See above. But Move on Up by Curtis Mayfield, White Man in Hammersmith Palais by The Clash, and Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division all remain terribly thrilling, no matter how often I hear them.”
Primal Scream’s Bobby Gillespie on the cover of NME, where James Brown was Features Editor
Have you ever had a supernatural experience?
“I was going to say no, but I did have two strange experiences in Filey around both my mum and granny who had both passed away, one of which was utterly unexplainable.”
If you were forced at gunpoint to have a proper job, what would you do and why?
“Nature reserve maintenance. I’d like one of those little buggies they have.”
We need a new flavour of crisps. Any nominations?
“Bread.”
Do you believe in fate?
“I’m not sure.”
What has been your proudest achievement?
“Getting paid to review crisps and helping make two nice children.”
Animal House by James Brown is available from Quercus Publishing. For a personally signed copy contact James through his socials @jamesjamesbrown
James Brown will be in conversation with John Robb at The Louder Than Words Festival at INNSIDE Manchester on Saturday 12th November. Click here for tickets