He’d been at King Tuts, in Glasgow, to hang out with a friend, Debbie, from the band Sister Lovers.
Oasis had blagged their way onto the bill.
McGee says: “People don’t like to believe in luck – they assume it’s too much of a coincidence, that Sony sent me to the gig on a tip, but I really thought I was just going to surprise my mate.
“The gig was 18 Wheeler, Boyfriend, and Sister Lovers. I went up to see Debbie, who was my friend from Manchester, and she was part of Sister Lovers. Me and my sister had planned to go out to the Sub Club after. The band that Debbie brought up in this mad splitter van was Oasis. So it was all really weird. They came up and the King Tut’s people weren’t going to let them on because they weren’t billed to play.
“When we ran into Oasis they were, you know, threatening the bar staff, threatening the security. The guy in the venue didn’t want to let them play but I said to the guy at the venue it was easier to just let them play otherwise he’d have a load of angry people running around, being moody.
“Eventually, they were given four songs. Because Glasgow had weird licensing laws and kept the pubs open, the band started at half past ten. I showed up at half eight because it was extended hours. So I saw them.
“At a certain point I wandered upstairs and thank God, it was the best wander I ever had in my life. There was a guy in a pale blue tracksuit, a Manchester City blue tracksuit, and he looked amazing.
“And there was a baldy guy, you know, a guy going bald. And I thought he was the singer. And actually, it was the wrong way round. Liam was in the pale blue tracksuit and looked amazing and Bonehead was the other guy.
“They started with Rock’n’Roll Star, then they did Bring It On Down, then they did Up In The Sky, and then, I was like: ‘I’m going to sign them’.”
Oasis played four songs and by the end of their set, McGee had decided to make a move. “They finished with I Am The Walrus, which is one of the most occult songs ever. It was that song that made me absolutely certain I wanted to sign them, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence because years later I became fascinated by occult writing.”
Creation and Oasis were the perfect fit. Creation was Birtain’s coolest label, the place that had released Primal Scream’s Screamadelica and My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless. It had been founded by McGee in 1983, with Dick Green and Joe Foster, taking its name from the 1960s band Creation. During a remarkable, 16-year history, it changed the course of British music. Signing bands like The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Membranes, and Primal Scream, it was a hedonistic blur of sex’n’drugs’n’rock’n’roll.
McGee signed the coolest bands, from Teenage Fan Club to Oasis, from Primal Scream to Ride, from Slowdive to Swervedriver, and from Bob Mould to The House of Love. McGee was at the centre of it all, an iconoclastic maverick, ahead of the times, running on empty and collected such accolades as the NME’s Godlike Genius Award, while being asked by then-Prime Minister Tony Blair to lead a music task force, and then being the subject of a biopic movie: Creation Stories, with Irvine Welsh, Danny Boyle, and Nick Moran. There was a breakdown, there was a multi-million deal with a major record label, there were offshoots, and there were more adventures than in the fiction section of the British library.
After his brilliant autobiography, also called Creation Stories, McGee has a new book out – How To Run An Indie Label. It’s a no-holds-barred rampage through gigs, clubs, boardrooms, drugs and booze. There are mad scenes, brilliant signings, machine gun quotes, and an animal spirit.
In his book, McGee says: “The music biz is nuts and there is space for all kinds of mavericks, but I think we took it to the extreme. We made crazy decisions, signed lunatic bands and made and lost fortunes. It was all done on instinct, but it worked. I’ve lived a rock’n’roll lifestyle and burned myself out and I’ve come back. Everything the bands did, I did 10 times more and it eventually broke me. With Creation Records, I made all the mistakes, had all the triumphs, and the label became the most successful in the country. And then I got bored.”
McGee had grown up in Glasgow in the sixties and seventies. It was an angry, edgy, violent place with a reputation for aggression and hard drink. McGee learned how to become streetsmart. His home life was violent. McGee wanted to be in music. That was his escape. He hated school and hated the teachers. “Glam rock was my O levels and punk rock was my A levels.”
McGee was a grafter. He was also a risk-taker, a kid who’d come up with a new plan and get a buzz when it made him a few quid.
He bought David Bowie’s The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, which changed his life.
A record that had an even bigger influence was The Sex Pistols’ God Save The Queen.
“It was a life-changing moment. Looking back now, I obviously had depression. Punk arrived at just the right time to fire up teenage minds like mine.
“Sex Pistols were the band and God Save The Queen blew my mind. I didn’t really get the politics or what it was about at first, but I could feel it and the sound of it really connected with me and the state I was in at the time.”
McGee moved to London, formed a band, and put out records on his own label. He’d go to Rough Trade’s warehouse, near King’s Cross, and blag records before selling them in a second hand shop, to make more dough.
“When I look back on it, I can see what a revolution it was. The idea that young people like me, who were full of ideas and enthusiasm, had a chance to release our own music was pretty special.
“That opportunity was the spark and the start for what would become Creation Records.”
He ran a fanzine, ran club nights, put out records, and became a mover and a shaker. Creation started to grow.
“We were a character label. Put me at the front and I would talk it up, then in the background, Dick Green would send out the VAT forms and do the graft to make things happen. Every band or label needs a front person, a character, a story. Maybe it was our version of the Warhol thing at The Factory, in New York. I just liked to collect interesting people and see what would happen. That’s how I work.
“A lot of people would get waylaid and wonder what they were doing in the business. Others had a vision, especially Noel Gallagher. He just knew. I think he had done his stint as a roadie with Inspiral Carpets and watched Clint Boon not quite being a superstar and was learning as he went along.
“To this day he’s still effectively his own manager, in the sense that he knows where he’s going. He was always like that. He was a genuine character, with lots of talent and a vision – the perfect package.
“From the first time I saw Noel, I knew he had it, and Liam as well. Noel had an indefinable quality. You could see that he had that star thing going on. Liam was always going to be a star.”
For all the ups and downs, McGee has developed a simple mantra: Stay loyal to your artists and friends. Another rule is to go where the action is.
“It’s crucial to be on the front line if you’re running a record label. A maverick will always go where the action is. You have to have a nose and an instinct for the bands, but you also need a nose and an instinct for where the music scene is at.”
A third golden rule is to find good mentors.
“Tony Wilson was a massive early mentor for me. He had done a remarkable job at Factory Records. The concept for the label was so clever and the music was mind-blowing.
“Like a northern Malcolm McLaren, Tony knew his pop culture and the media and he saw the bigger picture.
“He made everyone stay in Manchester instead of moving to London, which was what people always used to do when they made it. He turned the city around with music.”
McGee lead Creation Records through the crazy world of Britpop, making a statement as Oasis took on Knebworth and played to 300,000 people.
“My psychedelic punk dream that had started in the back rooms of pubs and limited edition singles was now selling 300,000 tickets for Knebworth with millions more who could not get in.
“I had proved a point. I had run an indie label that had turned into a tidal wave. We had started off as a cult and now we were the biggest band in the country.
“For a high point, the gig itself wasn’t fun. It was far too big. I couldn’t even get into my own hospitality tent because there were so many people there. But it was a statement gig, not a rock’n’roll gig. Noel had a point to prove and he really proved. Oasis were the biggest band in the land and everyone could see it.”
For all that he’s achieved, McGee remains driven. There are new ideas, new plans, new acts to manage. He is involved with some of the nation’s biggest artists – the guy in the background who’s responsible for tours and festivals, without fans even knowing.
“I like the business side of management, it’s really creative. The nature of the music business has changed and what I want to do has changed. Getting a band on the road and plotting their career is the key now; selling records is less important.
“In the era of downloads and the internet, the role of the label has been reduced. I look after classic bands now. Vintage bands. I’m working with legends who need a bit of care and attention. I’m the king of the oldies. King of the analogue.”
Alan McGee’s new book, How To Run An Indie Label, is out now, published by Allen & Unwin, and copies are available, priced £20.