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 Rock  Record  label  Profiles  

 
Rough  Trade  Records  
Founded  in:  1978  
Key  Acts:  The  Smiths,  Scritti  Politti,    Robert  Wyatt,  The  Fall,  The  Sundays,  The  Strokes,  The  
Libertines,  
The  story  of  Rough  Trade  is  one  that  illustrates  how  a  small  independent  label  can  become  
an  influential  force  in  music.  What  brought  it  to  that  position  was  its  insistence  on  only  
releasing  good  music,  and  refusing  to  be  stereotyped  by  any  musical  style.  From  the  Smiths  
to  Robert  Wyatt,  it  effectively  became  a  brand  in  itself,  in  a  manner  few  labels  achieve,  
where  the  mere  fact  of  a  record  appearing  on  Rough  Trade  became  a  recommendation.  
The  Beginnings  
The  Rough  Trade  story  begins  more  than  thirty  years  ago  on  20th  February  1976.  Britain  
was  in  the  grip  of  an  IRA  bombing  campaign;  a  future  prime  minister  was  beginning  to  make  
her  mark  on  middle  England,  where  punk  was  yet  to  run  amok;  and  a  young  Cambridge  
graduate  called  Geoff  Travis  opened  a  new  record  shop  at  202  Kensington  Park  Road,  just  
off  Ladbroke  Grove  in  West  London.  The  Rough  Trade  shop  sold  obscure  and  challenging  
records  by  bands  like  American  art-­‐rockers  Pere  Ubu,  offering  an  alternative  to  the  middle-­‐
of-­‐the-­‐road  rock  music  that  dominated  the  music  business.  
It  was  frequented  by  musicians  and  music  fans,  many  of  whom  had  their  own  records  they  
wanted  Travis  to  sell  in  the  shop,  which  had  become  a  gathering  place  for  the  West  London  
musical  community.  
Things  grew  quite  organically.  Informally,  Rough  Trade  began  supplying  records  to  other  
shops  around  the  country,  and  even  a  few  in  America,  which  proved  to  be  the  birth  of  Rough  
Trade  Distribution.  From  there  it  was  a  natural  step  to  set  up  a  label.  
The  Early  Years  of  the  Label  
From  its  beginning  in  1978,  the  Rough  Trade  label  was  eclectic,  a  daring  move  in  a  time  
when  the  underground  scene  was  dominated  by  the  spare  sounds  of  the  post-­‐punk  era  or  
the  jangly  perkiness  of  New  Wave.  So  the  experiments  of  Cabaret  Voltaire  stood  proudly  
next  to  the  eccentric  poetry  of  Ivor  Cutler  in  Rough  Trade’s  early  catalogue,  and  the  label’s  
reputation  for  experimentation  was  born.  
Unusually,  Rough  Trade  ran  as  a  collective,  with  the  artists  involved  in  the  daily  running  of  
the  label.  Instead  of  the  usual  royalties,  they  received  an  unprecedented  50%  of  the  profits  
 Indie  Rock  Record  label  Profiles  

on  their  records,  far  more  than  on  most  other  labels.  In  many  ways  it  was  a  way  of  
transplanting  the  ideals  of  the  1960s  into  a  new  era,  but  overall  it  worked  surprisingly  well.  
 
The  Glory  Years  
The  label  truly  found  its  niche  in  the  1980s  as  it  released  music  by  Scritti  Politti,  Robert  
Wyatt  and  the  Smiths,  continuing  its  policy  of  great  diversity.  Commercially,  the  Smiths  
were  the  high  point.  Signed  for  a  mere  £4,000,  they  became  a  huge  source  of  profit  for  the  
label  until  they  finally  migrated  to  EMI.  
This  was  the  time  when  bands  wanted  to  be  associated  with  Rough  Trade,  and  when  the  
quality  of  releases  were  at  their  highest,  and  often  most  adventurous.  But  success  brought  
its  own  problems.  
Rough  Trade  had  run  on  a  day-­‐to-­‐day  basis  for  several  years,  with  no  real  long  term  
business  plan.  But  now,  as  it  has  become  one  of  the  larger  forces  outside  the  vice  grip  of  the  
major  labels,  it  was  necessary  to  begin  thinking  ahead  and  working  out  how  the  label  could  
be  a  self-­‐sustaining,  profitable  entity.  
The  Bad  Years  
The  solution  was  to  part  the  three  strands  that  made  up  Rough  Trade.  Travis  gave  the  shop  
to  the  employees,  and  the  label  and  distribution  wings  were  separated  on  the  advice  of  
consultants,  with  the  company  moving  from  being  a  co-­‐operative  to  a  more  traditional  
structure.  It  proved  to  be  a  fatal  decision.  
The  label  continued  to  do  well,  but  grave  mismanagement  meant  the  distribution  arm  began  
leaking  money  like  a  sieve.  By  1991  the  situation  was  so  bad  that  Rough  Trade  entered  
receivership  and  Travis  was  forced  to  sell  the  label’s  back  catalogue  to  pay  off  debts,  a  great  
artistic  loss.  It  seemed  as  if  Rough  Trade  would  be  no  more.  
Rising  Again  
It  took  eight  years  for  Travis  to  be  able  to  buy  back  the  Rough  Trade  name  and  re-­‐start  the  
label.  But  his  savvy  and  taste  hadn’t  suffered  in  the  interim.  With  artists  like  the  Libertines,  
the  Strokes  and  Babyshambles,  as  well  as  the  feted  return  of  Scritti  Politti,  he’s  chosen  good  
artists  who’ve  achieved  both  critical  and  commercial  success.  Moreover,  Rough  Trade  
continues  to  be  a  beacon  at  a  time  when  working  independently,  especially  on  downloads,  
has  become  more  important  than  ever  before.  
In  the  interview  below,  Rough  Trade’s  A&R  man,  James  Endecott,  talks  us  though  their  25-­‐
year  history:  
Potted  history  
“Rough  Trade  Records  was  started  in  1978.  It  came  out  of  the  Rough  Trade  shop  that  was  
started  in  1976  in  West  London  by  Geoff  Travis.  It  was  the  time  of  the  punk  and  reggae  
explosion  in  London  and  the  shop  was  very  popular  with  bands  that  wanted  to  put  records  out.  
Geoff  thought  he  might  as  well  put  them  out  himself,  so  in  1978  he  put  out  a  single  by  a  French  
band  called  Metal  Urbain  and  then  it  just  blossomed  from  there.  Then,  in  the  early  80s,  Geoff  
found  The  Smiths.  Before  that,  Rough  Trade  was  seen  as  a  kind  of  cult  post-­‐punk  label,  but  
when  Geoff  signed  The  Smiths  it  became  a  lot  more  mainstream  and  The  Smiths  became  one  of  
the  biggest  independent  bands  ever.  And  that  carried  on  into  the  mid-­‐80s  when  Geoff  started  
Rough  Trade  Distribution  which,  to  cut  a  long  story  short,  was  quite  badly  managed.  Towards  
the  end  of  the  80s,  it  went  under  and  brought  down  Rough  Trade  Records  with  it.  Geoff  
 Indie  Rock  Record  label  Profiles  

continued  to  put  records  out  under  different  names  like  Trade  2  and  Rough  Trade  Recordings,  
with  the  same  ethics.  Then,  in  the  mid-­‐90s,  he  re-­‐acquired  the  name  and  here  we  are  again  
riding  the  crest  of  a  wave.”  
Is  there  a  label  ethos?  
“I  think  the  mission  is  just  to  make  great  records.  It  doesn’t  matter  what  genre.  We  don’t  just  
make  post-­‐punk  records  or  reggae  records,  we’ll  just  make  great  records  and  do  our  
damnedest  to  make  people  aware  of  them  and  make  people  buy  them.”  
Which  band  best  defines  Rough  Trade?  
“I  think  you’d  have  to  say  The  Smiths  because  there  was  a  time  in  the  mid-­‐80s  when  New  Wave  
music  crossed  over  to  the  mainstream,  and  The  Smiths  were  one  of  the  first  bands  to  make  it  
big.  They  were  very  much  a  Rough  Trade  band.  There  are  other  bands  like  The  Strokes  that  
typify  Rough  Trade,  even  though  they’re  very  now,  and  you  can  go  back  to  bands  like  The  Fall  
because  they  just  went  in  one  direction  and  never  really  faltered,  and  that’s  how  we  operate  as  
a  label.”  
 

 
Factory  Records  
Founded  in:  1978,  Manchester,  England  
Key  Acts:  Joy  Division,  New  Order,  the  Happy  Mondays,  A  Certain  Ratio,  the  Durutti  
Column.  
Factory  Records  wasn’t  simply  a  record-­‐label,  per  se.  Fuelled  by  the  conceptual  beliefs  of  
founders  Tony  Wilson,  Alan  Erasmus,  and  graphic  designer  Peter  Saville,  Factory  was  
founded  more  as  a  ‘laboratory  experiment  in  popular  art’  than  anything  else.  Never  signing  
any  of  their  artists  to  contracts,  Factory  had  the  feel  of  a  multi-­‐disciplinary  collective  long  
before  the  corporate  world  got  hooked  on  ‘diversification’.  
As  well  as  giving  the  world  Joy  Division,  Factory  opened  a  nightclub,  the  infamous  
Haçienda.  They  turned  every  record  into  mini  artworks,  packaging  them  as  elaborate  
artefacts.  And  they  gave  everything  they  ever  did  a  catalogue  number,  from  their  first  flyer,  
to  Haçienda  house-­‐wines,  a  lawsuit  filed  against  the  label  by  producer  Martin  Hannett,  a  
dental  bill  for  New  Order’s  manager  Rob  Gretton,  and  finally  Wilson’s  coffin  when  he  passed  
away  in  2007.  
Oh,  Manchester,  So  Much  to  Answer  for  
Factory  was  originally  born  as  a  club  night  in  Manchester  in  1978,  to  be  promoted  and  
booked  by  Wilson  and  Erasmus.  The  industrial  city’s  local  music-­‐scene  had  been  kickstarted  
 Indie  Rock  Record  label  Profiles  

by  a  Sex  Pistols  show  in  1976;  two  years  on,  the  first  wave  of  post-­‐punk  bands  were  starting  
to  bud  in  Manchester.  
When  Gretton,  then  manager  of  the  nascent  Joy  Division,  decided  he  wanted  the  band  to  
record  for  a  local  label  —thereby  bypassing  the  music  industry’s  once-­‐unassailable  London-­‐
centricism—  Factory,  the  record  label,  was  founded,  taking  up  headquarters  in  Erasmus’  
flat.  
The  first-­‐ever  album  to  be  released  by  Factory  turned  out  to  be  one  of  the  most  important  
and  influent  LPs  in  music  history:  Joy  Division’s  1979  debut  Unknown  Pleasures.  The  band’s  
spartan  instrumentation,  the  ghostly  production  of  Hannett,  and  the  sorrowful  moan  of  
singer  Ian  Curtis  captured  the  imagination  of  a  generation.  
Yet,  one  year  later,  in  the  lead-­‐up  to  the  release  of  the  second  Joy  Division  album,  1980’s  
Closer,  Curtis  was  dead:  taking  his  own  life  at  just  23.  The  three  remaining  Joy  Division  
members  would  continue  on  as  New  Order,  and  their  embrace  of  electronic  music  would  
categorize  the  label’s  evolution.  
The  Haçienda  Must  Be  Built!  
In  1982,  Factory  and  the  members  of  New  Order  combined  to  embark  on  a  costly  venture:  
the  opening  of  the  Haçienda.  Built  in  a  former  yacht  showroom,  the  nightclub  was  
established  as  a  shrine  in  downtown  Manchester;  the  beginning  of  Wilson’s  dream  to  
reinvigorate  the  industrialised  inner-­‐city.  Lavishly  designed  by  Ben  Kelly,  the  Haçienda  was  
initially  a  money-­‐pit,  operating  at  huge  losses  through  its  early  years.  
Yet,  by  the  mid-­‐’80s,  the  burgeoning  interest  in  dance  music  and  drugs  —and  the  popularity  
of  New  Order  and  new  signings  the  Happy  Mondays—  repositioned  the  Haçienda  as  the  
centerpoint  of  the  acid-­‐house  movement.  
Bled  Dry  
Despite  the  massive  success  of  New  Order  and  the  Happy  Mondays,  it  was  Factory’s  flair  for  
the  grandiose  aesthetic  gesture  that  would  eventually  be  its  undoing.  In  1990,  the  
enterprise  finally  moved  out  of  Erasmus’  house,  into  a  renovated  factory-­‐space  that’d  been  
two  years  in  the  making.  
After  having  sunk  so  much  money  in  their  building,  Factory  hardly  needed  to  have  their  
former  cash-­‐cows  leech  them  dry.  But,  the  lavish  recording  of  New  Order’s  Republic,  and  
the  drug-­‐addled  disaster  behind  the  Happy  Mondays’  Yes  Please!  reportedly  cost  the  label  in  
excess  of  1  million  British  Pounds.  Not  surprisingly,  in  1992,  Factory  filed  for  bankruptcy,  
leaving  behind  a  peculiar,  near-­‐legendary  legacy  of  refusing  to  follow  record-­‐label  protocol.  
And  Finally...  
In  2002,  a  decade  after  their  demise,  Factory’s  ridiculous  history  was  sold  to  a  new  
generation  in  the  form  of  Michael  Winterbottom’s  comedy  24  Hour  Party  People.  Based  on  
the  recollections  of  Wilson,  the  film  happily  played  with  notions  of  narrative  ‘truth’,  
revelling  in  the  oft-­‐disputed  claims  of  Factory  mythology.