The Fall

The Fall were Mark E. Smith’s band. Full stop. He formed them in Prestwich in 1976 and kept them going until he died in January 2018. In between: over 30 studio albums, 66 different members (someone counted), and a body of work so vast and uneven and bloody-minded that it resists every attempt to summarise it. Which is exactly how Smith would have wanted it.

He grew up on Kingswood Road in Prestwich and never really left Manchester behind, even when the band toured relentlessly. The sound was always abrasive – repetitive riffs, Smith’s half-spoken vocals barking over the top, lyrics that were funny and vicious and sometimes incomprehensible. Hex Enduction Hour, This Nation’s Saving Grace, The Wonderful and Frightening World Of – pick any era, there’s something worth hearing.

Live, they played everywhere in Manchester over four decades. The Boardwalk, Band on the Wall, the Apollo, Gorilla, Night and Day – you name it, Smith stood on that stage and glared at the audience. He was famously difficult: sacking musicians mid-tour, adjusting other people’s equipment during performances, drinking prodigiously. John Peel called them his favourite band and gave them more sessions than anyone else in the history of Radio 1.

There’s a bench dedicated to Smith in St Mary’s Park in Prestwich. A mural appeared on Tib Street in the Northern Quarter after he died. The Fall never had a mainstream hit, never softened, never chased trends. Smith once said the band’s lineup was always the same – it was just the members that changed. That’s the most Mark E. Smith thing anyone’s ever said. Prestwich’s greatest export and Manchester’s most awkward son.