Interview: James Maker, Against Nostalgia
Alejandro De Luna"On a western hill, remote
I kissed a man then I slit his throat....
No remorse, I was born that way."
'Born That Way' — James Maker
James Maker was there before any of it had a name. In 1977, a teenage obsession with the New York Dolls put him in correspondence with another teenager from Manchester named Steven Patrick Morrissey, years before either of them had a career. That connection eventually put James Maker onstage with the earliest incarnation of The Smiths, dancing at their first two gigs, before he went on to front his own and very underrated band, Raymonde, which I personally love and whose 1987 album 'Babelogue' remains one of post punk's most unfairly overlooked records.
James Maker, pictured in the Japanese edition of Morrissey's autobiography
There was RPLA after that, some acting, including a role alongside Ian Dury and Billy Connolly in the 1997 film 'Middleton's Changeling', and in 2004 a superb single, 'Born That Way' backed with 'I'm Unbearable', recorded with Noko and released on Morrissey's revived Attack label around the same period Maker supported him at a run of shows. A memoir, 'AutoFellatio', followed in 2011, and closed the book on that chapter publicly, at least for a while. There are also tons of lost James Maker recordings like the Milwaukee sessions, that have never been released physically, which is a pity. James' voice and lyrics deserve more ears.
Raymonde, 'AutoFellatio', the New York Dolls, and Morrissey's 'I Have Forgiven Jesus' single, which paired his cover of Raymonde's 'No One Can Hold a Candle to You' on the B side
'Born That Way', James Maker's 2004 single with Noko, released on Morrissey's Attack label
What he has done since is write. He now runs his own and very interesting site, jemaker.wordpress.com, publishing independently on his own terms, an instinct he traces back to the do it yourself ethic of punk itself, the same ethic he credits the New York Dolls with originating years before punk had a name for it.
Earlier this year, Maker lost his partner of thirty eight years, Paul. He wrote about that loss with unflinching honesty in this interview, and it sits respectfully alongside everything else here as the most recent chapter in a very long story.
What comes through most in his answers below is not fondness for any of it. Ask him about Manchester in 1982, about the Smiths, about a British industry that unfortunately never quite knew what to do with him, and the answer keeps circling back to the same position, stated twice, almost word for word: nostalgia is dangerous. Memory is selective in what it keeps, and dwelling in the past interferes with standing in the present. It makes for an unusual kind of interview, a man being asked, repeatedly, to look back, who has built something close to a philosophy around refusing to.
Q&A Interview: September 2026 by Alejandro De Luna
My sincere thanks to James Maker for doing this interview.
1. You have called the New York Dolls “the most important group in the annals of rock history.” What did they make possible in your imagination that British punk or pop music could not?
Because rock and roll is essentially attitude. The New York Dolls were the most attitudinal group, ever. They were voted the Best Group of 1973, and the Worst Group of 1973.
What they emphasized is that, in rock and roll, musicianship is secondary to stance. “If we can do it, you can do it.”
Which was, a few years later, the ethos of Punk music.
But the New York Dolls did it first.
2. You first came across Morrissey through his letters about the Dolls in the NME. You began writing to each other and eventually met at Manchester Piccadilly station. You later described him as looking like Patti Smith dressed as Dee Dee Ramone. What do you miss about those days, when you were both unknown and spending time together in Manchester and London?
Yes, sartorially, he was 50% Horses and 50% Rocket to Russia. It was 1977. I don't miss anything about those days, which are the days of carefree youth, because nostalgia is dangerous.
It's dangerous for two reasons, the first is that the memory is selective in what it remembers, the second is that, although it's natural to sometimes reflect, revisiting the past interferes with one's place in the present.
3. Take me back to Manchester in 1982, not the version that has been told a thousand times. What do you remember about those days with Dale Hibbert and Simon Wolstencroft, the Decibel Studios recordings, and The Smiths taking shape, with you joining them onstage at their first two gigs?
A quick note from me here: I wasn't suggesting James lived in Manchester at the time, only asking what he remembers of that period.
1982 is forty four years ago. There are only so many variations of a story. I was not living in Manchester in 1982, and I wasn't there at the Decibel Studios recordings.
I never met Simon Wolstencroft. No offence to Mr. Hibbert, but I can't recall meeting him, although I know he wasn't replaced until The Smiths' second gig, at Manhattan Sound in early 1983.
4. I saw Morrissey live in Madrid last July, and 'I'm Unbearable' came out of the speakers in his pre show selection at the Movistar Arena. It made me happy because I love that song, released on Morrissey's revived Attack label around the time you supported him at several shows. I'd like to think it still means something to him. When did you last see or hear from him, and do you still have those early letters and postcards?
The Attack single, 'Born That Way' / 'I'm Unbearable', was the best record I have ever released. It was an optimistic time.
We are no longer in touch, and there's no rancour between us.
I don't keep ephemera or archive the past, because the 'rainy day' of sitting in a chair and looking through it all never arrives.
Also, when you die, someone has to sift through it all, which is dreadful.
5. I bought a sealed promo copy of 'Babelogue' from Boz Boorer's shop in Camden about ten years ago, and I still consider it one of the most unjustly overlooked records to emerge from what we arbitrarily call post punk. Why do you think Raymonde never found the audience that record deserved?
Because music press hyperbole surrounded Raymonde from the very beginning, and we were too young to realize how harmful that can be.
The audience, some cynical, expect you to be utterly fantastic from the outset, if you're not, there is a tsunami of disappointment.
This extends to the record company. There was very little to no marketing or promotion for the album, 'Babelogue', and neither did we tour extensively, which is vital to build an audience.
The response of the record company was, “Oh, Babelogue has not entered the Top 50 album charts.”
6. You wrote in AutoFellatio that you were “a commercially unsuccessful singer”, despite your gifts as a lyricist and vocalist. Why do you think some artists achieve fame while others remain in the outsider realm?
Because although talent plays a great role in the likelihood of commercial success, so does luck and opportunity at the right time. Opportunity does not always arise that propels you along the arc of success.
Also, not everyone wants to be a Pop star, some people are happy to sell the requisite amount of records to keep them in the business, and playing to their audiences.
7. While making 'Middleton's Changeling' in 1997, you appeared alongside Ian Dury and Billy Connolly. You have also named Dury as a lyricist you admire. What did his writing teach you about how a lyric should move?
A quick note from me here too: given that they worked together and, in my opinion, Dury is one of the great London songwriters, I'd understood James admired Dury as a lyricist. His answer set me straight.
Ian Dury did not influence me at all. But he is worthy of mention because he was original and idiosyncratic, incomparable to anyone else.
Normally, such a lyricist and singer does not rise above filling a niche interest, yet he scored a global hit with his single, 'Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick'.
8. During the Milwaukee sessions, you sang, 'Arrivederci rock n roll, I loved you when you were young, and I loved you when you were dangerous.' Is rock and roll gone, or is anything being made now that approaches what it gave you at seventeen?
No, but it's unreasonable to expect it to. Some people perpetually chase that first moment, they want to recapture it. Rock and roll is now very old, and every conceivable permutation of its essence has been drawn out and adapted.
It's possible to exhaust an idea.
9. After Raymonde, RPLA and some acting, you mentioned that you were clinically depressed while making the Milwaukee recordings. What carried you from that period into your collaboration with Noko and 'Born That Way'?
The period from The Milwaukee Sessions to collaborating with Noko was 2000 to 2004.
I had no record deal and took a series of mind numbing jobs to honour my financial commitments. For a lot of people, this is mentally exhausting, for a creative, in particular, it can cause depression.
10. There is a considerable body of music that has never received a physical release, including the Milwaukee recordings and more songs with Noko. Is a physical record still something you would like to assemble, or do you consider that chapter closed?
The practicalities of releasing a physical record are manifold, and it involves expense on my part.
I've put some of these tracks out there for free download on MP3, available at my blog site.
11. You've spent a long stretch of your life in Spain, far from a British music industry that never quite knew what to do with you. Is there anything about the old England you still miss?
No. As with people, the world evolves whether from your personal standpoint it is for the better or not, but, regardless, it evolves. However ineluctably sometimes, the only direction is forwards.
I don't look back because I don't trust nostalgia.
12. I lost track of you for a while after AutoFellatio, until I found you released a digital album, a collaboration with Boz and more recently, your blog. What have you been doing and working on in recent years? Could you recommend me something worth getting that you've been listening to or reading lately?
I'm a writer now, and this is my passion.
I set up my blog so that I could write and publish independently. With orthodox publishing, it takes a year and other people are involved, all of whom are part of the decision making.
This is OK when you are 42, but I'll be 66 in October.
Publishing the blog appeals to the Punk DIY ethic in me. Don't wait for approval, do it yourself.
13. Finally, is there something you always wanted to share or tell in an interview, but nobody has ever asked the right question?
No, nothing I can think of, but thank you for asking.
I also wanted to say, gently, that I was aware James had lost Paul, his partner earlier this year. I chose not to make that a formal question, but told him the space was his if there was anything he wanted to say about it, in the interview or otherwise.
"Paul was a wonderful man and partner. Selfless, generous, supportive. We were together for 38 years.
It is a huge and life changing loss. His permanent absence is the biggest challenge. But I must remember the happy times and the adventures we shared, and feel blessed that he was part of my life for so long." — James Maker, September 2026
Visit James Maker's site here.
Buy James Maker's autobiography here.
Buy James Maker's music here.
Raymonde on Discogs.
Alejandro De Luna single-handedly runs The Sense of Doubt, an independent music and culture site exploring music history, post-punk, art and cultural heritage through limited prints and features. This interview is part of an ongoing series.
