I always knew I'd be famous.
Back at school, if you'd have told me that four of us
would become the biggest rock band on the planet,
I'd have asked who the other three were.
I know what you're thinking.
Everyone wants to be a rock star, right?
Well, this wasn't some vague dream, this was real.
I had it all planned out.
Form a band.
Release a series of ground-breaking albums.
Tour the world's greatest stadiums.
Pull off the biggest rock and roll invasion of America since the Beatles.
This life that I had going on inside my head.
[tyres screech]
It wasn't my life at all.
It never was. It was his.
He rises, I fall.
He just gets bigger and better.
I suck up all the shite luck that never goes his way.
Hey, is that the... It is!
- [grunts] - [tyres screech]
- [shouting] - [horn honks]
No!
[crowd screaming]
Get out of the way. You out of the way, now there. Go on.
I always knew I'd be famous.
[chattering]
What you brought that thing in for? You'll have someone's eye out with that.
- I've got a lesson with Mr. Rowland. - What, that fogey old fart?
What's he gonna teach you, a punk rock version of "Danny Boy"?
Yeah, maybe.
Hey, Paul. Paul, what's the craic?
Larry's putting a band together.
Oh, great.
- Who is Larry? - Larry Mullen, two years below.
- Oh, nice axe, man. - Oh, cheers.
Yeah, he saved all his pocket money for three years,
- he's so rock and roll, aren't ya? - Oh, yeah.
You should come and try out.
- Hey, they need a singer. - You're looking at him.
You? It's bad enough having to stand next to you in choir practice
singing like you've lost a bollock.
Besides, you... you really don't much look like a front man, you know?
Oh, yeah? What's a front man look like?
Yeah?
- Like me! - Oh.
Sorry, Neil. Nice try. But it's my gig.
There's plenty more bands out there.
See you on Top of the Pops, boys.
[bell rings]
[discordant music playing]
- G's my favourite key. - Oh, sorry, yeah.
Oh, Jesus, lads. Make some space. Mick Jagger didn't have to deal
with a bass in his face and a drum kit up his arse.
Made it myself. I got the design from a mag.
What, was it a bird spotting mag, was it?
It looks like a duck with a stick up its arse.
Do you really need a guitar as well? You know you can't play it.
You can talk.
Jesus Christ, can nobody play their instruments here?
Will you relax, Larry? We've got Dave.
Give us a shot at yours, then. I'll show you what it can do.
- Yeah, OK. Here. - Just for...
OK. One, two. One, two. One, two.
OK, come on, guys. Come on. Can we just play something together?
- You know, at the same time, all right? - OK, right. Whoa, whoa.
What do we know?
Um...
Do we know anything? David Bowie, yeah?
- [Larry] Yeah. - [boy 1] Anyone heard the Ramones?
- Yeah, was that... - The Clash?
Or how about Thin Lizzy? Thin Lizzy?
- Yeah, yeah. - Sex Pistols and Dire Straits.
OK, just forget I said that.
Right, lads, fuck it. I've got it, right?
[# "Gimme Some Skin"]
That's Iggy. I know that. That's Iggy. Let's do it, OK?
One, two. One, two, three, four.
# Gimme some skin Try to give me some skin
Whoo!
Yeah!
# My girlfriend, she got soul Sucks all night on Lord Asshole
# She puts me right up her ass She shoots speed, she smokes grass
# But I don't mind
# If your mind is gone If you want my body
# Come on, baby Now give me some skin #
Two chips, please.
[Neil] Man, she was definitely eyeing you up.
Every girl in school is acting like you're made out of Mars bars.
[laughs] That's band life for you, man.
Well, dip me in rock and roll and throw me to the girls.
How's it going, anyway?
Apart from becoming an overnight fanny magnet.
It's going great, you know? I can finally see it all coming together.
We want Ivan.
What?
We want your brother on rhythm guitar.
Well, you can't have him. On rhythm guitar or anywhere.
He's with me. Ivan's the lead guitar and I head up the band.
- You've got a band? - Yeah.
What are you called?
What are we called? We're... we're called The, uh...
...Undertakers. - The, Uh, Undertakers?
Yes.
Well, good on yous.
- You've certainly got the mouth for it. - Fuck off.
And I can see your face on the posters.
Yeah, you too. That's if the teeny boppers go in
for that mop-haired, leaping gnome sort of thing.
Listen, so I just tell Ivan straight he didn't get in, yeah?
No, no. Leave it with me.
He's my brother.
You don't have to say a word, OK?
Yeah.
Yeah, sure.
Listen...
...we're doing a gig next month. Maybe you boys should support us?
Maybe you should support us.
Maybe we should support each other. Equal billing. Shoulder to shoulder.
- Your band and mine, brother. - Taking on the world together!
[both whooping]
So, have yous got a name yet? What about the McCormick Brothers?
That's not very punk, is it, Dad? We'd sound like a folk band.
We'd have to grow beards and live in a commune.
We're called The Undertakers, Mr. McCormick.
Yeah, Frankie is Frankie Corpse. Ivan, is Ivan Axe.
I'm Eric Cadaver.
No. You're still Hopeless Eric.
And Kev over there is Kevin Carcass.
I wanted to be called Jonny Durex, but I was afraid it'd upset me ma.
She's gotta know what a Durex is, son, or you wouldn't be here.
- What's a Durex? - I'll tell you later.
Six years later.
[Mr. McCormick] You'll be needing punk hair-dos.
I'll do them for you. No point in wasting money at the barbers.
Yeah, but we can do without all that swearing... and the vomit.
We've our first gig next week. It's with Paul's lot, they're called The Hype.
Oh, yeah, the band I almost joined.
Next week, we'll blow them off the stage.
And then you'll be glad you stuck with your big brother.
It's lovely to see the two of you working together.
[instruments tuning]
It's just a different sound.
Yeah, yeah. It's a whole new quality, it's great.
Hey, lads. What's going on?
Oh, Paul was just talking to me about second guitar.
Was he?
And what was he saying?
We decided we don't need one, so...
- No hard feelings, hey, Ivan? - No, you're grand.
Course not. He plays lead for The Undertakers now.
Never mind second guitar.
Why are we second billing?
Hey? You said we'd be equal.
Well, we're both on the banner. The Hype and The Undertakers.
- Are we? - Well, look at it this way.
It gives you a chance to steal our thunder.
- That's Neil McCormick? - Yeah, that's him there.
OK, guys, you're the support act, right?
So, four songs, then clear the way for the headliners.
What? Who put him in charge? Who's that? Who are you?
Oh, this is Paul McGuinness, our manager.
Look, man, I've gotta go and do a sound check here, yeah?
One, two. One, two. One, two. Check.
Yous look like you're bricking it.
- All right, Plugger? - Fifty P a pop, right?
Purple ones are uppers. Green ones are downers.
I don't know what the white ones are for,
but you shouldn't take them with alcohol.
What are you, Plugger? Their dealer?
- I just get paid to hump the gear. - One, two. One, two. One, two.
- Well, a manager and a roadie! - [Paul] Check. One, two.
One, two. One, two. One, two. Perfect.
[# "Do Anything You Wanna Do"]
- # Oh! - [crowd cheering]
# Why don't you ask them
# What they expect from you?
# Why don't you tell them
# What you are gonna do
# You get so lonely
# Maybe it's better that way
# It ain't you only
# You got something to say
# Do anything you wanna do
# Come on
# Do anything you wanna do #
[screams]
[# "Street Mission"]
# And I'm promising nothing
# I'm just living a smile
# I casually arrange it
# I walk tall Walk in the wild wind
# I live an image of plastic and gold
# Some say maybe tomorrow
# A resurrection, hello I know, know, know
# Well, I know, know, know Well, I know, know, know
They're sounding tight, man. Their drummer can actually drum.
- They're even playing their own stuff. - Huh?
I said they're playing their own stuff.
Well, we can write our own songs too.
Plus, we'll have something that they'll never have.
Brotherhood. Neil and Ivan McCormick.
Well, Ivan and Neil. It's alphabetical like Lennon and McCartney.
Bollocks.
- I'm older, I'm going first. - Whoo!
# Oh!
# I need something
# I need someone
# I've got you
# Street mission
# Street mission #
Good night!
[chattering]
[all cheering]
You big riot, ya.
Neil McCormick here with home-grown rock sensations The Hype,
still sweaty from a blistering live show.
So, boys, tell us. Where do you see The Hype in say five years time?
Five years? The Hype'll be history.
- What? - What?
What?
Why? You boys were fucking amazing tonight.
You said that this was what you wanted to do forever, like.
- Yeah. - It is.
So we're changing our names to something good.
Oh?
You're looking at U2.
U2?
That is so...
...shite!
Thank you, Neil. I didn't want to say it.
It sounds like a bleeding submarine.
- And we're changing our names. - What?
Dave wants to be known as The Edge.
What, like, Edge Evans or Dave Edge?
Just The Edge.
The edge of what?
And from now on, he's Bono.
- [Kevin] Bono? - [Ivan] Bono!
Bono?
Yeah, yeah, it's good, it's good. I could be... Biro.
- I could be The Hedge. - Stop taking the piss.
At least I'm not the one jumping up and down on stage wearing these.
- Would you look at the state of him? - [all] Hey, hey, hey, hey.
[chattering]
You fucking poser.
He likes 'em. He likes 'em.
[motorcycle revving]
[# "Sleepwalking"]
# Dreams are making a mess of me
# They say I'm like a ghost but they don't understand
# I'm the haunted not the haunting
# I need to get some peace
# I'm walking in my sleep #
If I'm honest, Neil, I don't get half the stuff you sing about.
Your lyrics are a bit weird, Neil.
Well, next you'll be telling me that Bob Dylan's weird.
Is Bob Dylan weird, is he? Or Leonard Cohen?
- Yeah. - Yeah, very weird.
Ah, nice of you to swing by. Who needs a lead guitar anyway?
Check this out.
- What the fuck? - Look at it.
- It's really real. - Just watch the corners.
It's really happening for the boys.
- Oh, my God. - [Ian] Take it easy with it.
Yeah, but Rolling Stone magazine reckons it's pretty mediocre.
Oh, man. This could have been my first album.
In your dreams, man.
No, I was nearly in the band.
No, you weren't. You stood in Larry's kitchen once.
That's his great claim to fame.
Well, at least I auditioned for them, Neil. That's more than you ever did.
Where'd you get this anyway?
- Oh, I bumped into Bono. - [Frank] What?
Down at The Vinyl Frontier.
- I played him our demo. - [Neil] Great.
So now he'll pinch all my lyrics for his next album, will he?
He reckons he can get us signed.
- [Kevin] Signed? - Signed, signed.
- [Frank] What? - [Ivan] Yes!
We can get out of this bleeding garage, boys.
And you wanna follow in their footsteps?
No. We are not playing catch up with U2.
Not now. Not ever.
We'll do this our own way. And we will get our own deal.
[Ivan] Well, hang on. I don't see that happening here, Neil.
Yeah, well, I can make it happen.
Yeah, when? Where are you going?
I just told you. To make it happen.
[car engine starts]
Jesus.
Jesus, it's the U2 fucking fanzine in full effect.
- Do you want a Bono pin-badge? - Do I bollocks?
- [telephone ringing] - [chattering]
Well, would you look at that, Maureen?
A rare sighting of our most elusive scribe, hmm?
How's the work allergy?
Hey, Niall, don't come all proddy work ethic with me.
I'm not the one pretending to be disabled.
Hey. The insurance pay-out on this little baby pays your wages.
So where have you been, Lord Byron? Fannying about penning poetry again?
Actually, I've been in the studio, yeah? Laying down some new tracks.
Besides, I've already filed my article for this week.
Yeah, but it was meant for last week.
Lucky you can write, that's all I can say, hmm?
"In his search for the singular identity in the landscape of the bland,
Adam Ant has somehow evolved into a post-punk,
Dick Turpin with a pirate fetish."
I like that. "Landscape of the bland."
Yeah, well, I thought it preferable to "a sea of shit".
Are you giving it the cover?
No, I think Ireland's hottest band just pushed it out.
What? Gary's U2 piece?
It's only Gary's U2 piece 'cause you turned it down.
You picky bastard.
Thanks, I am standing right here, you know?
Yeah, and I didn't want to give it to a rookie.
- Yeah. - Well, it's weird, but I...
It's weird, but I didn't really much fancy
talking to my old school mates about how brilliantly amazing they are
and how much hot sex they're getting, you know?
Yeah, there's a little bit more to it than that.
Yeah, I bet. "U2 are brill. And hasn't Bono got lovely hair.
And he's dead good at singing and that."
You're just jealous 'cause no one writes about your poxy band.
Oh, really?
Ah, Jesus. Neil, not more fucking demo tapes.
You've already carpet-bombed every poor bugger in my address book.
That's not true, actually. I've only gone up to P.
Look, look.
I know the owner of a place in town, and I could get you a slot if...
If you cover the Horse Slips gig for me. Quid pro quo.
No way. Their singer still wants to murder me after that last piece I wrote.
Where's the venue?
- McGarrety's. - Fuck off!
- I hope you said yes.
Of course I said yes, it's McGarrety's. Legends are born in the place.
- When is this? - Next Saturday.
Hold on. That's the day the Pope is in town.
- I'm sorry? - The Pope?
Wears a big popey hat. Drives a popemobile. He's the Pope.
Who's gonna go and see the Pope? It's only the Pope.
- It's not like it's anyone good. - [Eric] I'm going.
I'm an altar boy.
[all] Fuck off!
Eric, who do you wanna be in ten years time, eh?
Keith Moon? Rocking out with the biggest band in the world?
Neck deep in girls and booze and drugs, yeah?
Or a piss-poor, 30 year old altar boy,
who sits in at the weekend and pulls his winky?
Didn't Keith Moon die?
Listen, Eric...
I am asking you to make a choice.
It's me or God.
[crowd roaring]
I can't believe the Pope fucked our band.
I never liked him. He has no appreciation of the live music scene.
And not a single person here.
Bugger me. The McCormick's?
Yous great pair of arse bandits.
What are you doing here, Plugger?
Me boss, Danny Machin, runs security here.
I keep the eejits in line.
Well, when they show up I do.
What? Danny Machin the criminal?
He prefers enpreteneur.
He doesn't mind if I deal a bit of gear on the side, you know?
So, if you want anything. Coke, acid, weed, I'm your man.
No, you're all right, Plugger, but...
It's good to see you've done well for yourself.
And those tossers at Mount Temple said I'd never amount to shite.
What about Bono and the lads, yeah?
- Away to the big time. - Yeah.
We should have stuck with them, we'd be getting a ride every night.
Hey.
Hasn't your man, Machin, got a venue or two of his own?
No, Neil. He'll cut off our balls.
Could you put in a word for us, Plugger?
You know, maybe get us a gig for old time's sake?
Sure.
Leave it with me, lads. I know just the place.
I don't like this. I've never been this far out of Dublin before.
[# "Sleepwalking"]
# Sleep keeps playing tricks on me
# Dragging out the day while I'm waiting for the night
# Darkness got a fix on me
# Playing with the silence I'm trying to keep it quiet
# Shake your dreams from your hair
# When the break up comes you're going to be nowhere
# And I'll meet you there
# When the circle's complete I'll take you walking in my sleep
# In my sleep
- # I'm walking in my sleep - # Walking in my sleep
# Wake up #
Ow!
- Thank you. - Thanks very much.
What a crowd. You guys were great.
God almighty. Oh.
How are you? Can I have a whiskey, please?
- Whiskey. Thanks. - Ah!
Man, what a buzz. That was great.
That was shite. We died on our arses up there.
Maybe you would have noticed if you weren't having some kind of fit.
- What was that? - My moves.
Plus I got us our first headline gig.
Yeah, in an illegal titty bar, in the arse end of nowhere,
run by a known killer.
This is Mr. Machin, lads.
What'd you think, Mr. Machin?
Godless, mindless and tuneless.
Still, you had the girls going.
I'm surprised you could hear anything at all. The sound is shite in here.
You really want to get yourself a better system if you want decent bands to play.
Yeah, well, when I find a decent band, maybe I will.
Neil, we'll go. Shall we?
Come upstairs if you want your cut. Just the cocky fucker.
The skinny one with the stupid haircut can piss off.
He means you, Ivan.
Stay here.
- Hi. - How's it heading? How're you going?
Fine.
You don't take your baths in here, do you?
No. That's for people who annoy me.
You know, not many people talk to me like you did back there.
There's always been that connection, between gangsters and celebrities.
Oh, you're a gangster, are you?
'Cause you're sure not a fucking celebrity.
It's only a matter of time.
I don't suppose you know anyone
looking to invest in an incredible new band?
Why, do you know an incredible new band?
Come on, you saw us play. We just had the wrong crowd tonight.
But with the right crowd and the right backer we can...
You know, when my girls go on their break,
they usually duck out the back for a fag and a go at the crossword.
Tonight, they were clocking you.
- Tea, Plug. - Well, there you go.
There's money to be made in music.
Money that doesn't involve someone getting buried.
[stammers] I mean, look at U2.
I bet you wish you'd got in there before the lawyers had them all sewn up,
and we're gonna be bigger than them.
Yeah, you're better looking than Bono. I'll give you that.
Thanks.
But the... the question is, do you want in?
- Five grand. - Ten would be more realistic.
I could do ten.
My ten buys me twenty-five per cent.
You don't get twenty-five per cent of me that easy.
Is this my negotiating face?
OK, ten. And a ticket to London.
I'll give you two tickets. One for you and one for the skinny fucker.
And remember. If you fuck with me...
...I will kill you.
[nervous chuckle]
OK, everyone your attention, please. Wake up!
I've an important announcement to make.
I am quitting.
[radio playing]
I'm off to London to become world famous.
- [sobbing] - Oh.
Oh, come on now.
Don't cry.
She's not crying over you, you great fucking eejit.
What?
What's happened? Who's done this?
Some sad... loner psycho.
That's how you become famous fast, hmm?
Pull a trigger.
Remember listening to dad's scratchy old copy of Abbey Road?
Yeah.
- First songs you ever learnt to play. - Yeah.
It just makes you wanna pack it all in.
No. It makes you realise how short life is.
I'm sick of waiting around for shit to happen. I just...
It won't unless we make it.
How?
We get out.
We move to London.
What?
Where did all this come from, Neil?
Give me one good reason why not?
Because we're broke.
I've enough to cover us until we're in London, signed and earning.
I filed a lot of articles with Hot Press.
OK, well. I've got a girlfriend.
Well, they do have girls in London.
- Apparently. - OK, look.
What about Bono's offer of a deal?
Are you just gonna walk away from that?
If Bono thinks we're great, we don't need him.
Oh, that makes loads of sense, Neil.
We go straight to the source. To the majors. Atlantic. Columbia.
The McCormick brothers together.
Yeah, just... just fucking hang on here a moment.
Look, you're asking me to rip all this up and start again
just 'cause you say so, when, you know, we're doing OK here.
- OK? OK, shite. - Yeah.
There's one for the tombstone, isn't there?
"Here lies Ivan, he was OK."
If you stay here, you'll spend the rest of your life wondering what if?
And then, you will always be a ninety-nine per center.
What?
What the fuck is that? You just made that up.
No.
The bands who never make it. The rock and roll graveyard.
Either you break on through or you add your bones to the pile.
Yes, I am asking you to rip it all up and start again.
Trust me, kid.
The world doesn't know it yet...
...but the next big thing
is lurking in an Irish backwater.
[horns honking]
[# "Some Kind Of Lovin"']
- Hey, here it is. Come on. - OK, OK.
- Here. - Hey, how's the hair?
Yeah. Yeah, cool.
# But some kind of loving lasts forever
- # Some kind of loving - # Turns to some kind of hatred
- # Some kind of loving - # It gets you sooner or later
- # Some kind of loving - # Locks your heart behind a brick wall
- # Some kind of loving # - # Is no kind of love at all #
See, pop songs are usually about
fantasising about having sex with hot women,
actually having sex with hot women,
or reminiscing about having sex with hot women.
This one appears to be about rape.
On one level, yes.
But on another, it's about existential angst.
Mmm. Right, well, either way that's a pretty hard sell
for Top of the Pops, but I'm sure we can sort that out later.
So, you do want to sign us, then? Do you?
Well, that depends.
See, the music industry is a very fickle business.
It's like a harem filled with beautiful people
all fucking each other's brains out.
But outside there are thousands of ugly, talentless lepers
all clawing their way in, trying to get a piece of the action.
Which one are you?
Um...
The beautiful people.
Do you want in to the harem?
Yes, please. Yes, I do. I do.
Well, OK then.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
And try and write a song that doesn't have kids
reaching for their dictionaries.
And also, steer clear of the whole rape area.
It's a bad area.
And... and The McCormick Brothers. Change your name.
You sound like a fucking folk act. Now get out.
Arrange an appointment. We'll come back and squiggle a contract next time.
- Go! - [telephone rings]
What?!
Well... I did say it would be easy in London.
That wasn't easy, that was a big fat piece of easy...
- [horn honks] ...peasy fucking lemon squeezy cake,
given away free, with today's Easy Times.
Come here, you beauty! We just got signed.
- We got signed. - Yes!
You'll need to know my rules, of course.
No drugs.
Unless, of course, shared with the landlord to supplement the rent.
Mmm.
And no outlawed sexual practices.
Unless ditto the above.
- Wow. - Yeah, cosy.
Perfect for band practise though.
[landlord] Ah. Budding rock stars. I might have known.
I've shot a lot of pretty boys like you.
Is that legal in this country?
In between my fashion work.
- Oh, you're a photographer. - Was. Now I'm just growing old.
Disgracefully. Pickling myself for posterity.
One party at a time. Oh, if you do take the place, by the way,
you'll have to get used to my parties.
Tell me...
...how long have you two been together?
Well, they've been together for about four years, now.
- They formed at school, so... - Not U2, you idiot.
Us two. We...
We've... we've been together since we were boys, Karl.
- Yeah, that is a long time. - Yeah, well, obviously. We are...
Ivan? Band meeting. Now.
I want it, it's incredible. Think what we could do with this place.
There's no furniture. It's a fucking factory.
Plus, I think he's weird. Plus, I think he wants to stick his thing in me.
- Exactly. - What?
He is looking for a certain type of tenant.
I can feel a deal here. All we have to do...
Is what? Is be his rent boy, and he'll drop the rent? No, Neil.
Seriously, if you do this, I'm off back to Ireland.
OK, OK, OK, OK.
- I'll tell him. I will tell him. - OK, do.
Hi, Karl!
Oh, hi, Gloria.
That's Gloria. Lives next door.
- We'll take it. - Oh.
[dance music playing]
Boys, boys.
Oh, well, look at you.
Somebody's been raiding Spandau Ballet's closet, haven't they?
- Gloria? - Hi, Karl.
Come and meet your neighbours.
- Hello, neighbours. - Oh, you're American.
How did you guess? Was it my accent?
Sorry, this is Ivan. Sometimes he acts like he lives in a field.
Oh, and this is Neil. Sometimes he acts like a massive nobhead.
Gloria used to be in your game.
- That's the original punk rocker. - Cool.
- So you boys are in a band? - Yeah.
Oh, good. I guess that would explain the costumes.
- These aren't costumes. - No, we always dress like this.
Hey, Ivan. Why don't you go and get us some beers?
Yes. Come along, tiger.
Let's get you socially lubricated.
Yeah, go on, tiger.
- Hi, guys. I want you to meet Ivan. - Hiya, girls. How's it going?
Ivan, never mind the girls. Meet the boys.
This is Mervin and Joshua and Raphael.
Oh, you've met him before. Gwen, love.
So, you're a punk?
Am I?
Well, that's what Karl said.
Plus, before, I saw your... t-shirt.
Not now, before. The Ramones. Good choice. Good choice.
Sorry. Is that a bit...
...a bit creepy, me remembering that? A bit too stalker?
- Yep. - Right.
Right.
- Fancy a toot, love? - Oh.
Thanks, love.
[snorts]
- That hit the spot? - Uh-huh.
Gloria.
Don't hog the boy. He's got to spread himself around.
I'm telling people they're the next U2.
Only better looking.
And gay.
Oh, the gay U2. Has a certain ring to it. Don't you think, Neil?
It's OK, Karl. He's all yours. I was just leaving, I have a play to go to.
- Bye. - Gloria.
[snorting]
I leave you alone for five minutes and you're snorting drugs at a gay party.
- What would mam say? - I know.
- Has he got any more, do you think? - Yeah, yeah.
[dance music playing]
[crowd singing]
And we're gonna be in the studio soon. We're gonna be doing a music video.
Like those big fuck off, snow white palace in all the snow, like.
Except for we're naked. Except for we're wearing fur.
And everybody's dancing, everybody's thinking about
having sex with each other. But no, wait.
Everybody is actually having sex with each other.
You, me, everyone in the whole video, all up in Iceland and stuff.
Fucking hell, look, he's snogging that bird now. Get off her!
Jesus. Oh, shit.
[grunts]
[both moaning]
Would you mind if we did it with the lights off?
I hope that shag was worth it, 'cause we're late for signing our contract.
Maybe I'm getting heartache. I'm feeling a bit worried 'cause of the coke.
- I think I'm feeling a bit hyper. - Will you shut up?
Hello.
Hi, where is Hammond?
- Are you the new runners? - No.
No, no, we are not the new runners. We're the McCormick's.
We're Hammond's new act, we're just here to sign the old contracts.
Hammond's history. Axed.
Kept spunking cash into Kajagoogoo.
I'm the new Hammond.
- What? - No.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
What was the last thing he said before he left?
Let me think.
I'm gonna sue you bastards right through the arsehole.
Then he sort of broke down. It was all very uncool.
Yeah, but he did tell you about our deal?
Yeah, and the fifty grand advance.
Oh yeah, it's ringing bells. Ding-aling-ling.
But I'd say a hundred's more realistic.
- A hundred grand? - Yeah.
- I tell you what. - What?
You boys will look fucking fantastic on camera.
We'll do you a video to rival Duran Duran.
OK, yeah.
And we'll shoot it on the moon.
What? Really?
No. Not really.
In fact, I'll tell you why you boys will never be signed to this label.
You look like a pair of mental fortune tellers from a gypsy fair.
And Hammond liked you. Therefore, I hate you.
I wouldn't sign you to this label if you paid me a hundred grand
and let me John Paul Pope your mother.
- Don't hit me. Don't hit me. - [both grunting]
You do not throw the McCormick's out with the trash.
Did you hear me?
This means war!
[# "Cry Baby"]
[telephone rings]
Neil McCormick.
Neil, you're a hard bugger to track down.
Did you listen to the new U2 album?
Yeah. Yeah... it's OK.
Never gonna knock Thriller off the top spot though, is it?
Still, you told Mr. Machin you'd be bigger than them
and you're still a pair of no marks. Sharon, you're late.
He wants come back on his cash or he'll cut yous off.
He says you're his biggest cash haemorrhoid.
Haemorrhage, Plugger. We're his biggest cash haemorrhage.
But I'm gonna sort it out. That'll change.
Well, it better. Don't make me come over there, Neil.
You know I get sick on that ferry.
Yeah, yeah. OK. Love you too. OK. OK, love you. Bye.
- Who was that? - Ma. She sends her love.
Take down those rejection letters. They're not funny.
They're just a bad reminder.
Well, we only got the five today.
Oh, and a postcard from Bono in Florida.
They just finished 48 shows across America.
And get this.
They smoked cigars in Vegas... with Sinatra.
[scoffs]
Whereas we took on the music industry.
And got kicked up the arse by everyone in town.
Let me remind you that this is not a competition with U2.
Good, 'cause if it was we'd be getting our arses kicked there as well.
Oh, come on. We're pop, they're rock.
No. They're great and we're shite.
And now we're skint, too.
I'll be surprised if Karl doesn't evict us.
And no, I'm not selling him my arse.
- We can get more money. - Where?
Where's all this been coming from?
I told you. The savings.
You said it would be different here.
But all we've really done is change the scenery,
and traded our band for a fucking tape recorder.
Maybe we should just face reality, and go home.
We can't leave now.
- We've only just started. - Just started?
We've been standing still. For months.
Going nowhere.
And that is where we've been going wrong.
The business needs to see us live.
Instead of us going to see the wankers,
we get the wankers to come and see us.
We need to get a band together.
Where are we gonna find a band?
[# "Cry Baby"]
# Save your skin and you start to believe me
# Lie, lie, lie then you start to deceive me
# Kill the dreams like you don't have a reason
# Cry
Hold on. Hold on. Shut up.
Hi, Gloria.
Gloria, this is the new band.
Band, Gloria.
Do you think you can try cranking it down a few thousand decibels?
It's like flat sharing with Napalm fucking Death.
Sorry.
Hey, Gloria. Aren't you supposed to be on a theatre tour?
Here, I'll help you. Let me do that. Grand.
My company folded so we're gonna have to find some new way
to put up with each other without having to resort to ear plugs. Or murder.
Listen, I'm really sorry, Gloria. We'll try and turn it down.
You really don't have to leave.
Yes, I do. I have a job interview.
Go on, practice on me. What's the first thing you want out of a job?
- You're not interviewing me, Neil. - Oh, come on.
Oh, OK, I don't know...
The usual stuff: pleasure, satisfaction.
What about a job that combines pleasure, satisfaction
- and appeals to your love of music? - Where are you going with this?
I thought if you can't put up with us, you could join us.
[laughs] I am not joining your band.
No, but you could be our manager.
Are you fucking with me? Because I'm already running late.
No, I just thought that you know, you know the scene,
and what with all your shite luck at the theatre and everything,
you know, maybe we could combine our shite luck,
and together we can make something a little bit less shite.
That's tempting.
No, seriously, you need the work, we need help.
We're made for each other. We'll give you ten per cent.
Ten per cent of nothing is nothing.
Brilliant! See, you can do the maths and everything.
Plus, you run a theatre, so you know how to handle people.
Music people are very different.
Just start with the idea they're all arses
and every so often you will be pleasantly surprised.
Go on.
So, does the band have a name?
At the moment we're stuck somewhere
between The Cheese Graters and Lady Garden.
Wow. You really do need help, don't you?
Let me think about it, all right?
Couldn't ask for more.
Well, you are the hottest label in town.
Surely you've heard of Shook Up?
You should hear the new stuff they're coming up with.
OK then, I'll set a lunch.
[# "On My Own"]
# I drank all the tea in China
# I walked all the roads to Rome A bit of this.
# I looked in the maps to find ya
That's pretty... that's sounding good, actually.
It sounded good but we need some juice. We need some moves.
# I need you in conversation
# I want you to be my friend
# Our love was a celebration
# Beginning is now at an end
# I'm on my own
# I can't be alone #
Pretty good.
OK, you've gotta stop beating yourself up after every single gig.
I've been here before. This is how it works.
Overnight success is a myth.
Is it?
Then how do you explain that?
What?
A million copies of the album sold.
A million.
That's like the population of a small country jumping up and down
because they think you're great.
- To our ten. - So, who gives a shit?
They're doing their thing.
You're doing yours.
What's your problem?
I stopped Ivan being in the band.
- What band? - That band.
U2?
Yeah.
Jesus, Neil, how?
Well, we grew up with them back home.
They wanted Ivan.
I sorta hung on to him.
And then I lied to him.
And he still doesn't know.
Wow.
You total asshole.
It was before they were famous.
I thought we were gonna be bigger than them.
That's why it's not enough for us to just be OK.
We have to be... we have to be big. We have to be really, really big.
So that I can look him in the eye and I can say
"Are you glad you stuck with me?"
You must love him a lot.
Yeah.
But it's also the guilt.
You know how good the Irish are at that.
So why'd you give up your band?
My ex took it.
It was kind of like a divorce.
He got the band and I got my life back.
Mine was the better deal.
You were in a band with your ex?
What was it like, Sonny and Cher?
Ah, more like Sid and Nancy.
And then when he split back to New York I swore that
I would never get involved with anyone on the scene again.
Yeah.
But, I've always been a bit crap with promises.
Do you wanna come in?
What, isn't that one of the perks of being a rock star,
or don't you wanna have sex with me?
[# "Play Dead For Me"]
[both moan, gasp]
Now, will I be in one of your songs?
- After that, you'll be the whole album. - [Gloria laughs]
It's kind of hard to find something that rhymes with Gloria.
Actually, there is already a song called "Gloria", but...
...but I didn't write it.
Who did?
Bono.
# And when you phone me, baby
# From the other side
# Keep sending home the money and I'll be all right
# It is the season for your playing dead
# You give me a reason to get into bed
# I'll put the flowers where you lay your head
# You be the coward that's running away
# Before you leave me
# Play dead for me
# If you want to hurt me
[on demo tape] # Play dead for me
# Before you leave me
Come in, then.
# If you want to leave me #
It could be a hit.
Yes. Absolutely.
In the right hands.
I could get it to Rod.
- [scoffs] Rod Stewart? - [chuckles]
- I mean that would be great. - That would be shite.
You don't like Rod? Hmm?
Rod is huge.
Rod is God.
I like The Faces Rod Stewart.
Not that twat who sings "Do You Think I'm Sexy?",
and lives in a bollocking mansion in Beverly Hills.
OK, Neil. You can go tell Rod to stuff himself.
Meanwhile, we don't have barely enough change in our pockets
- for the ticket home. - I'm just trying.
OK, OK. I'm sensing your vibe, and what I'm getting is
you don't want some heavy-handed rocker trampling on your artistry.
Barry Manilow?
- Barry fucking Marshmanilow. - Manilow shmanilow.
Jesus Christ. We just turned down Rod Stewart.
- He's a prick. - I don't care if he's a prick.
He's a rich successful prick
with a decade of hit records and leggy blondes behind him.
And if that makes him a prick.
Well then, I want to be a prick, too.
[Hammond] Listen, arsehole. Let me tell you something.
- This whole business is run on dirt. - Hammond!
Dirty deals. Dirty money. Dirty shitty people.
And you're the shittiest of the lot of them.
Hammond, what are you doing here?
Do I know you?
Yes, yes. You said we could be in your harem.
You know, "Beautiful folk in, ugly lepers out."
- Neil McCormick. - The McCormick brothers. Remember?
Oh, yeah. The folk act with the rape song.
- [both] Yeah, yeah! - Oh, I quite liked that, didn't I?
Yeah, you said you loved it.
All right, look, meet me downstairs in a minute.
OK. Neil.
Fuck off.
What the hell happened? You offered us a deal and then you buggered off.
Yeah, I don't know. I had some kind of misunderstanding
with those arseholes there, but I've formed my own label now, so...
Sort of a free floating, free-loving, free agent. Yeah?
Are you still doing that folk rape shit?
No, no. These days we're sounding more like U2 but with a bigger hit potential.
- Did I ever see you play? - No.
I mean call me old fashioned, but I don't like to sign anybody
until I've seen them live.
You know, it's so I can really experience that wow factor.
Second Saturday in July. It's gonna be amazing.
Probably one of the best gigs you've ever seen in your entire life.
- So, that's... - What?
Wow, OK.
That's amazing. Here's my card.
- I'll see you there. - Yeah.
- I'm so pleased. - OK, hugs. Good.
Great, great, great, great. Fucking great.
Did I just have an acid flashback?
No. No, that actually happened. Look. Look.
Hang on though. Hang on. We don't have a pot to piss in
and you just promised Mr. Definitely Maybe
the most stupendous gig in history.
Don't you worry your curly little melon about it.
You worry about the music.
And I will take care of... that.
[man on PA] Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Dublin.
All in-bound passengers wishing to travel to the city centre
please follow the signs at the pick-up point...
[ship's horn blows]
[Plugger] Bono and the lads are doing great, you know?
Are they? Really? Sure, you don't hear anything about them in London.
It's like another country over there.
I hope you've come with good news for Mr. Machin.
I vouched for you so it's my balls on the block too, you know?
Stop your messing.
Jesus! Is that a gun? Why've you got a gun?
I wouldn't be much good at me job without one, would I?
[whistling]