The Sisters Of Mercy mainman Andrew Eldritch is one of rock’s more influential artists, even if he does hold much of what he’s influenced in contempt. Thanks to such dark-hued albums as 1985’s First And Last And Always and 1987’s Floodland, the Sisters Of Mercy have been held up as poster boys for the entire goth movement – much to Eldritch’s chagrin.
An aversion to the music industry has meant the band haven’t released a studio album since 1991, although they still tour regularly, and they are playing two London shows in May 2025 as part of their Two Wires Read tour.
This interview originally appeared in Classic Rock in 2011.
Where do you live these days?
I’m a highly mobile unit. I’ve got access to cars and houses, but I’m in Leeds at the moment.
Was your childhood a happy one?
I didn’t have much of a childhood, to be honest. It wasn’t happy or unhappy. I was lucky to grow up in the company of books. I spent a lot of time in the library, which I considered completely normal.
Which bands shaped your musical taste?
I used to like Deep Purple and Hawkwind before I got into things like Suicide.
What do you tend to listen to now?
I don’t pay much attention to music any more. Instead I watch strange films like Takeshi Kitano’s Sonatine or Hana-bi. And of course I’ve got a Kindle now. What a lovely thing that is.
When was the last time you used the phrase: ‘Don’t you know who I am?’
It was in Denver, Colorado. Somebody was trying to stop me from getting into a club. Did I feel bad saying it? Not really. They were playing my records inside, so I felt entitled.
Who’s the least-expected celebrity you’ve ever seen at a Sisters gig?
We don’t attract much in the way of celebs. We’re not that kind of band. One of the actors from Emmerdale once came along. I don’t know which one, he was one of the farmers. I’ve never watched the show.
When and why did you shave your head?
For a while there I was God’s gift to the hairspray industry; it had been every colour under the sun. I did it many years ago now. I was reaching the age where I could neither be bothered with maintaining it nor face the prospect of it receding. So I thought, to hell with it. Off it came. It was quite liberating.
How do you deal with being recognised in public?
It doesn’t happen very often, because I walk around with my shades off. I started my career with them on. I’ve walked past people with tattoos of mine on their arm without a flicker of recognition.
You’re stuck on a three-man lifeboat with David Cameron, Rupert Murdoch and The Mission’s Wayne Hussey.
Who do you throw off? Murdoch. Because he pulls Cameron’s strings. And the other one isn’t important to me.
When was the last time you took illegal drugs?
[Uncomfortable silence]
It must have been some time ago to make you think so hard.
No, I’m just debating whether to tell you or not. And I don’t think I will.
What other things piss you off in life?
The Republican Party Of America, the Tories – always. Margaret Thatcher, whom I still blame for everything. Jazz-funk. Oh, and beetroot. It’s not really a food, is it?
What advice would you give to the 21-year-old Andrew Eldritch?
I’d tell him to join that band he was considering becoming a member of. It will cause a lot of regrets, but he’ll get to experience things that wouldn’t happen otherwise.
Where would your life have gone had the younger Eldritch said no?
That’s a good question. I’m too anti-establishment to have joined the Foreign Office. With my academic record, I suppose I might be working at the BBC.
You’re 52 years old. Isn’t it about time you got a proper job?
It probably is. But I’m tainted by my dissolute past. Also my dissolute present.
Do you have any remaining ambitions?
I’d like to captain England at cricket, but I’m rubbish at the game.
Do you believe in God, or some form of higher being?
No. Never have and I don’t think I ever will. That might be a genetic thing, like being left-handed. Indoctrinating kids into such beliefs is a kind of child abuse.
Do you have any idea of the meaning of life?
No. I know what the trees look like, but not necessarily the woods. That’s common to most people, I think. Even philosophers have been known to doubt the whole concept of reality.
Sisters Of Mercy tickets are on sale now. This interview originally appeared in Classic Rock 160 (Sumer 2011 issue)
