In 1984, the movie This Is Spinal Tap hilariously exploded the culture and clichés of rock. While its portrayal of a witless heavy metal group outraged some in the community it lampooned, it became a staple of the VHS age, even on rock bands’ tour buses, where its ageless one-liners – “This much talent”; “These go to 11”; “Too much fucking perspective” – were repeated like a litany and treasured as salutary warnings of the oh-so real dumbness at large in the rock biz.
This Friday, September 12, Spinal Tap II: The End Continues opens in cinemas in the UK and US, the sequel finding the band reuniting to play one last show in New Orleans. The central cast are as they were: Michael McKean is singer-guitarist David St Hubbins; Christopher Guest is lead guitarist Nigel Tufnel; Harry Shearer is bassist Derek Smalls; while once again director Rob Reiner doubles as fictional director Marty DiBergi.
This time they’re joined on screen by real-life rock stars – Paul McCartney; Elton John – underlining how over 40 years truth and fiction have merged and Spinal Tap, who’ve performed live on and off, released actual albums and even played Glastonbury in 2009, now feel as ‘real’ a band as any.
In the run-up to the release of The End Continues, as is traditional, interviews with band members have been conducted in character, and MOJO was lucky enough to grab some time with them.
But hey, enough of our yakkin’. Let’s talk to David St Hubbins...
MOJO: David, can you describe the scene, chez St Hubbins?
St Hubbins: Well, I live in Morro Bay, California, which is about, say, 110 miles north of Los Angeles. I like the weather. I like the lifestyle. I like that you can run into people every day who are at the same point of their doldrums as I am in mine. It’s sort of a brotherhood, or sisterhood in some cases, you know. And what’s interesting is a lot of my friends, my contemporaries, are having children with much younger wives, third wives in some cases, and I get to meet their nannies and drive them home. So it’s win win. Otherwise, I’m baching it, as they say here. I’m living the life of the bachelor, the semi-mobile bachelor. But I’m also very busy too. I’ve been writing an operetta based on Andrew McGarrigle’s The Corbies. Are you familiar with this piece?
The Twa Corbies? The folk song?
Well The Twa Corbies was a song that took off using some of the great poetry of Andrew McGarrigle. But there’s an entire play that makes that song look like a piece of crap! I mean, The Twa Corbies? Is this a sequel already? We’re just sitting down to watch The Corbies, and there’s a Twa? No.
You’ve made another film with Marty DiBergi. But didn’t you feel a bit stitched up by the last one?
Well, that’s one way of putting it, yeah. Listen, we were outraged at first. We really felt that we had been made fools of and that distance to become a fool was a bit shorter with some of us than with others. I think that… I think that Nige was born to step on the rake, bless his heart, but he always winds up smiling, perhaps because he’s an idiot. But I love him. He’s my closest friend. He’s been my brother and my friend and my bandmate for years and years, and nothing really changes, except that sometimes we go for 14 years without speaking.

What did Marty have to say to you, to persuade you to get involved again?
Well, what happened was Ian Faith, our former manager, who passed away some years ago, he left behind an unfulfilled bit of contract. It was part of a larger tour. Most of the tour got cancelled, but there was this one show dangling. Hope Faith, who’s Ian’s daughter, came to us and said, “Look, I could use the money. You blokes could use the money. Please, let’s do this one thing. We’ll fulfil the contract. We’ll put on a great show, one show, and that will secure your legacy.” Now that sounds like a good deal. It would have sounded like a better deal if they had done it in Morro Bay, because I really don’t feel like budging from where I am. I’ve got more Hawaiian shirts that I have not lounged around the house in yet.
What did you miss most about Spinal Tap?
I would have to say it’s the first 12 bars of Cash On Delivery. Because Derek does the lead vocals on that. So I had a bit of time every night to just prance about the stage and look at the crowd. I go over chat with Nige a bit. I look back at the drummer… whoever that might be. Sometimes they should wear little name tags – I mean, they come and go so quickly around here. I check to make sure the gong’s not going to fall over. I check in with CJ, our keyboard player. He always gives me the same look, and his look bespeaks the following bit of wisdom: where’s my cheque?
Things have changed a lot since your last shows in 2009. I was wondering whether you’d been under any pressure to adjust your set list in the post #MeToo era – whether words had been said about Big Bottom, Bitch School, et cetera…
Look, I think that that Big Bottom is a very complimentary song. It’s not called Grotesque Bottom or Bottom That Belongs On Jabba The Hutt’s Housemaid. I mean, that would be a different story, and much harder to rhyme. I think it’s a very positive song, and I think women have… clenched at it, if not embraced it as an ideal. Regarding Bitch School, we ran it by our new drummer, who is, of course, a woman. Deedee Crockett is her name, fantastic. She is the spirit of rock’n’roll, and a damn lesbian, to use her own words. We ran it by her and we said, What about this Bitch School thing? Does this offend you? And I can’t tell you what she said, because you can’t print it. In fact, I didn’t understand it. It was mostly apostrophes, to be honest with you. She’s not exactly quotable, but we find she was very amenable.
Paul McCartney dropped in on your rehearsals for the show. In the film, it looks a bit cheeky. It didn’t seem like he’d been invited by anyone.
Er… bingo. I don’t want to go too much further on this. But Paul and I had a bit of a rough start. You know, some people, you hit it off with. Some people, it’s like, Oh my god, yes, I’ve always wanted to meet you, Catherine Zeta Jones! He didn’t make that big an impression on me. Be honest. Fine songwriter, fine singer, excellent bass player, and… human being.
He comes across as quite bossy. I think you can see why George Harrison walked out during Let It Be.
Yeah. Well, I was not invited to the Let It Be sessions, but I would have walked out too.
The set list for the reunion show was presumably a subject of lively debate amongst the three of you? I mean, I noticed that there was no Jazz Odyssey…
Jazz Odyssey is a bit like the hatchet in a glass case you see in a hallway: Break In Case Of Fire. We keep it in that glass case, and we break it out when we need to, which is when it looks like, you know, sort of a tote-bag type of crowd. You know, a lot of pork pie hats and goatees… and the men are even worse! So sometimes we’ll whip that out. And unless we’ve had a cold shower, it still impresses.
It’s referenced in the film, the fact that Spinal Tap continue to be snubbed by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Do you feel that The End Continues might restore Spinal Tap to their rightful position in the pantheon?
Look, I would be happy to be parked in the lot of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Fine. I would accept any shred of honour that they bestowed upon us. I don’t think it’s going to happen. And I wish them well, and I wish they had better air conditioning in the summer. Those are my only two thoughts. And also, don’t hide the Judy Garland stuff – we know you have it!
How can I say this? MOJO magazine hasn’t always reviewed Spinal Tap kindly. Over the years, there’s been a bit of nitpicking. How would you review MOJO magazine?
I put it in quotes, and it would say, “Look Mom, the new MOJO’s out!” I mean, I get a copy every now and then. First of all, it’s as big as the… does anyone remember telephone books? I mean, it’s like, I’m never finishing this. Is this Ulysses’ laundry list here? I sit down, and eight hours later, I get up and say, Well, there’s three articles down…

What aspects of Spinal Tap are underrated?
I think our determination to get from the beginning of a song to the end, and never letting the fear cross our faces that it’s not going well. It’s a small art, but it’s an art.
The footage of your rehearsals gives an invaluable insight into your process. But did it ignite a creative fire? Do you think there could be another album of new Spinal Tap songs?
If we can find a way to euthanize our over productive egos, anything is possible. I really do think it’s about not even the person, but it’s what that person is carrying around with them that makes them difficult or easy to get along with, admirable or detestable. I’m one of those people, I take every person as I find them, and if I can’t find them, I don’t worry about it.
Tell me how Elton John fitted into Spinal Tap.
Well word had got back that Elton loves Spinal Tap. There’s a couple of our tunes that he’s actually tried to work into his act. Originally, he was just going to drop by. I don’t think he was expecting to see his piano in the studio, but we had it brought there at great expense. So he sat down, he played (Listen To The) Flower People with us, and then we enlisted him for the live show. And sort of wish we hadn’t now, in hindsight, but never mind. We can’t talk about that. It’s still in the courts.
On the famous curse that afflicts Spinal Tap drummers – I have to ask if it’s strictly ethical for you guys to keep hiring drummers, given the horrible fates that await them.
Well, look, I think it’s very judgmental to call a fate horrible just because it ends in death. It’s a bit judgmental to me. But I would say this: you need a drummer. You need a live drummer. You know, we tried, but we can’t even rehearse with drum machines. There’s some fantastic drum machines. There’s those ones that were made, where someone kidnapped Steve Gadd and just recorded everything he’s capable of and put it in a machine, and then they sent him home, or dropped him in the woods, and now everyone sounds like Steve Gadd. But we like having a live drummer and it’s still a great gig. And, yeah, it’s a bit like buying a haunted house, but you can be very comfy in that house, but you can’t turn it over.
You mentioned that one of the ideas about the gig was to solidify the legacy of Spinal Tap. When it’s finally time to lay down your plectrums, or plectra, for the last time, what do you hope will be said of you?
That they had their ups and downs, and when they were up they were very, very up, and when they were down, they were nowhere. It’s a bit like Homo Sapiens, if that doesn’t sound too pretentious. We came out of nowhere – well, caves and trees and all that other Darwin stuff – but mostly nowhere. And look where we are now! It still looks a bit like nowhere, just more cluttered. I don’t know whether this is the answer to your question, but I’ve long forgotten your question. Oh, yes, I remember: the legacy of Spinal Tap? Yeah, rock’n’roll keeps you young, but it’s better if you die young. I’ve said that before. It’s not a scoop.
Have you any other musical projects on the horizon? Because you’ve had quite a successful solo career outside of Spinal Tap….
I managed to stay busy. Yeah, that’s true. Some of that’s revealed in the film. I’m also still signing young bands. I give them what I call ‘The Three Weeker’ – you’re going to work for me for three weeks, and we’ll see what you’ve got. I’ve got some local groups from here in Morro Bay and upwards. There’s a wonderful band from San Luis Obispo called Harmless Kitchen. And Hitchcock’s Rope. Hitchcock’s Rope needs work. They’re too much the one thing, you know, but very talented, musically adept. Shark Flavour – great… when they show up. They have a problem. They’re trying to get a reputation as a ‘bad boy’ band. You book them and they don’t turn up, and then you call them at home and they say, “Oh, was that tonight? Oh, aren’t I a bad boy!” And then that word gets out, and, of course, all the girls want to come and see them. So as a marketing technique, I find their slovenliness rather handy. And there’s a rap duo called Adequate. They’re very good. They’ve suffered a downturn, though, recently, because it was revealed they were father and a son. And for some reason, people don’t want to see that.
A lot of songwriters of your peer group have written musicals. Do you think that’s something you’d like to turn your hand to?
There’s a lot of frustration about that. I’m working on this operetta now. Derek and I were going to do Saucy Jack, which we really only have an opening number for. I just think it’s for a different kind of musician. You think about the great pairings: Rodgers and Hammerstein; Rodgers and Hart; Rodgers and Evans – only for a couple – Rogers would work with anyone, wouldn’t he? But you know, Lerner and Loewe, Kander and Ebb, Ira and George Gershwin, they found this relationship, writing these songs and finding some dumb-arse story to stick ’em on. It’s not the way we roll. We’ve done concept albums: The Last Flight Of Icarus P Anybody was one… The Sun Never Sweats is, I think, tentatively, a concept album... And, yeah, anyway, I’ve forgotten the question again.
You’ve kind of answered it: about writing a musical.
Too difficult. Too difficult is the short answer. Not enough naps.
Spinal Tap II: The End Continues is in cinemas from September 12.