Twenty-eight years after The Fall played their legendary gig at Clitheroe Castle, Mark E Smith and his band open their British tour at the Grand in Clitheroe on April 25. The Fall’s mercurial frontman spoke to TONY DEWHURST

MARK E Smith arrives exactly on time, offers a warm handshake and politely asks if he could have a bottle of cold beer.

“Yeah. I remember Clitheroe,” he grins. “We played in an old, green bandstand with a creaking floor and a guy called Steve Barker put it out live on Radio Lancashire.

“I drove the van with all the gear in and we got lost near Sabden.

“I like Clitheroe. One of The Fall lives there and another has a nice cottage in Colne.

“It will be our first gig of the year — I want it to be a night for real Fall fans.”

The Fall’s leader is the only original member in a line-up that has seen over 60 members come and go, often messily, since Smith and a handful of mates formed the band in Prestwich 35 years ago.

Smith once famously said: "If it’s me and your granny on bongos, it’s the Fall."

“That’s pretty much it,” he said. “And I reckon my granny would have made an excellent bongo player. She should have applied.

“I don’t look back to who has played with us in the past. We had battles but I’m not interested in any of them.”

Yet Smith continues to face the future head-on, and is scathing of anyone who takes refuge in cosy nostalgia.

“People wallow in looking through rose-tinted spectacles and saying, ‘Wasn’t it great in those days,’ when really it was rubbish.

“I constantly look forward because The Fall’s a work in progress, and we are just as relevant as ever.

“This group’s really hot and they understand what it’s all about. We’re just coming into fruition.

“They’re not rabid Fall fans and I think that helps. They play their music, have a beer and go home. They’re nice, friendly folk.

“We played Liverpool last year and all the old crocks turned up — Echo and the Bunnymen and The Icicle Works — and they said that was the best they’d ever seen The Fall.”

Smith appears content with his new work and admits he was disappointed with the last album, Ersatz GB, released in 2011.

“I didn’t like it. I can say that, can’t I? But this one (Re-Mit) is what we are all about and I think it will terrify people.

“It does get harder though. You’ve got to kick a lot of backsides to get a record out.

“But every time I do an album it still feels like my first LP because I still have a great energy.

“I want my music to be as punchy and aggressive as Black Sabbath. I don’t want it to be something simpering that sounds like Jarvis Cocker.”

We sit in a quiet corner of a busy bar next to Piccadilly Gardens, Manchester, and when I ask him about the state of the nation he jabs his finger at a newspaper on the table.

“I think the press is under great threat. What’s happening is disgusting. Nobody seems to care that we are losing our free press.

“My dad and his grandfather fought for that precious freedom and there’s people like Hugh Grant cosying up to politicians with those terrible Hacked Off people.

“What cultural use is Hugh Grant to the country anyway?”

A text bleeps on my mobile phone and Smith, rocking back in his chair, laughs out loud.

“Thank goodness I haven’t got one of those things. I’m allergic to machinery and machinery is allergic to me.

“I can just about turn channel 27 on. My mates go, ‘Get on Twitter Mark . . . It’s never too late to learn.’ “Learn what exactly? That the bloke next door has just mowed his lawn or his missus has bought a bag of sprouts in the supermarket.

“We toured Croatia and none of the band’s mobiles would work. It was like life had somehow ended. I loved it.”

Smith remains the complete antithesis of what the music industry stands for.

From the early days of Industrial Estate, Fiery Jack, Psychic Dancehall to Laptop Dog and new single Hittite Man, Smith’s remarkable catalogue of work has provided a razor-sharp social commentary too.

“Music seems like an alternative to banking these days,” he groans. “I can just hear the conversation in Surrey or somewhere: 'What are you going to do when you leave university darling?' '“I might go into banking Mama.' 'No dear, you must form a rock group.'

“All the danger and risk has gone, hasn’t it?

“I’ve been backstage at these awards shows and I’m the oldest one there. I felt like E.T. when his spaceship landed on earth.

“These kids are young businessmen. It is like chatting to the chief executive of BP.

“They’re going, ‘What about the European tour? It has got to be a watertight deal, man.’ “It is just so depressing.”

Smith says he never saw The Fall as part of the Manchester music scene and still doesn’t.

“I don’t relate to anything from Manchester — I can’t stand the place,” he said.

“Tony Wilson asked me to join Factory Records and I said, ‘No, sorry.’ “We used to shout abuse at each other but Tony was OK.”

  • The Fall, Clitheroe Grand Theatre, Thursday, April 25. Details from the box office on 01200 421599