“It was the difficult second album all over again.”
Mark Kelly
The tipping point for Marillion came with ‘Mexican Night’. It was late summer in 1990, and the band had spent several increasingly frustrating weeks holed up in Stanbridge Farm Studios, a residential facility outside the English seaside resort of Brighton, attempting to write their second album with new singer Steve ‘H’ Hogarth.
The breezy mood surrounding the band as they entered Stanbridge had evaporated as the weeks dragged on. Marillion’s unhurried, jam-based approach to songwriting clashed with Hogarth’s more traditional modus operandi. Tensions were rising, and the atmosphere was getting fractious.
“No one hit anyone else, but we did have a few words,” says bassist Pete Trewavas. “Steve was getting pissed off: ‘What’s the point of me being here?’ I suppose he was also trying to stake his claim on where he would fit in the band.”
Then came Mexican Night. The plan was for the band and their lyricist, John Helmer, to get together in Stanbridge, deck themselves out in ‘bandido’-style fancy dress and stuff themselves with Mexican food in an attempt to alleviate the tedium and ease the pressure. It wasn’t the first themed night they’d had, and none of them had worked. The omens weren’t good for this one either: there had been a row earlier in the day.
“There was a bit of an ugly atmosphere and none of us wanted to be there, but there was no getting out of it,” says keyboard player Mark Kelly. “Then someone discovered there were magic mushrooms growing in the field outside, which we naturally took. We had a great time. It was a good bonding experience. Everybody felt much better about things after that.”
The slog wasn’t over for Marillion, though; they still had an
