The Low Miffs and Malcolm Ross: A Chance Meeting

When music past and present collide, the result tends to be less a meeting of creative minds, more an opportunity for chart-jolting fellatio. For every Nick and Kylie, there’s an Eminem and Elton, a Tom and Cerys, a Paul Weller and, well, just about every lad-rock outfit of the 90s. Those 15 blithe minutes of commercial gain may swell the pockets of all involved, but does anyone really care what Steve Cradock’s doing now?

Such career-eroding collusion is a perilous alleyway for any legacy-hankering band to tread. For Glasgow’s Low Miffs the decision seems even more peculiar. Remember, this was a quintet once billed as Scotland’s most intelligent new tune-makers as they stacked articulate vignettes upon vaudevillian cuffs of tune. Yet here they are, caught in cahoots with ex-Josef K and Orange Juice guitar fulcrum Malcolm Ross on the release of their joint venture LP.

“I've known Malcolm for a few years now - we first worked together when he stepped in to cover for our guitarist Peter on a tour of Scotland with The Horrors, and found his contributions and attitude to be quite the thing,” explains Miffs frontman Leo Condie. “Working with him on a record seemed like a great opportunity... I was interested in seeing if we could break through his nice-guy image with our incessant bickering, massive cynicism and base humour.”

Despite any sneers accompanying the record’s arrival, the juxtaposition of Ross’s spider-webbed fretwork and Condie’s erudite quips has left many Postcard aficionados salivating. Recalling the heyday pomp of The Associates blushed with a crisp, modernistic sheen, it’s as if Ross has turned back the clock, doused the oil and finally struck a light under his past.

“We share a great deal of musical taste and sensibilities. Although the Low Miffs are still young, they are extremely talented and sophisticated musicians,” says Ross. “I admire the energy and drama that’s contained in The Low Miffs music. It’s also exciting that when they start working on a piece anything can happen.”

Funded by the Scottish Arts Council, the album’s collaborative front masks the fact that this is The Low Miff’s debut full-length recording, whereas Ross has a career spanning four decades. So who pulled the strings: the well-versed veteran or the wet-eared upstarts?

“I was careful not to stamp [my authority] too much,” says Ross. “In the end the songs sung by myself and those sung by Leo were recorded with us assuming different roles. I exerted more influence on my own songs than those sung by Leo, on which I functioned as an advisor, co-producer, musician and referee.”

Condie, with a wry hint of ambiguity, concurs: “I'm afraid we are far too bloody-minded as a band when it comes to musical decisions. Everyone goes in with an idea of the song in their head and fights their corner, but the mutual respect we have for each other, obviously including Malcolm, means there's a very positive and constructive air to the proceedings.”

With the obligatory post-release touring firmly underway, The Low Miffs and Malcolm Ross are veering towards a familiar crossroads encountered by all freewheeling liaisons: is it time to go their separate paths or will this queerly suited coupling settle down for something more permanent?

“We've got a lot of gigs coming up to promote the album, including some support slots with Edywn Collins that I am really thrilled about,” beams Condie. “We'll take it from there. More songs, more singing. I can't wait.”

Ross, however, is slightly less enthused: “I’m sure we will work together again but not on the next projects we undertake. The Low Miffs should establish themselves without me... I’m proud of this album. It’s maybe a good one to bow out on.”