Then came 'The Glitterhouse' lp. Gone was the guitar drenched mid-range of the seven inch as the whole texture became sparser and less immediately likeable. I spun the swine repeatedly, determined to extract the same measure of pleasure the single had given me. Slowly it came. In the same manner to which, in eons past, I gradually grew accustomed to the tricky labyrinths of Joy Division’s 'Unknown Pleasures' , 'Glitterhouse' took time to offer up its concealed thrills (and the JD comparisons stops here, gloom seekers!).

Despite the predominance in the media of anything vaguely funking, Medium Medium have hardly been front page (or any page) regulars. Maybe this is because their brand of the dreaded four-letter musical category is no white-boys-on-funk, easy-to-pin-down watery imitation of the true stuff from over the Atlantic. They’re unafraid to steal the genre as a starting point but always emerge with their own stylised and individual interpretation. Also, they reside in Nottingham, hardly the most fashionable of the mill-towns.

Medium Medium’s last UK live engagement was in way back in April. I’d never seen them. Their records bore no names or mug-shots but then they did a tour of Holland and sent me an invitation...

Guitarist Andy Ryder joined some two years back when MM were mutating from a state of being fairly orthodox punky thrashers. He is, they say, responsible for injecting the funk element. His previous eighteen months had been spent touring the airforce basis of Europe with a straight funk (get up! get down! PAARTY!) band. He yearned for more rockier endeavours; his schooldays had found him listening to Led Zeppelin and dancing at smooth discos where his lengthy mane and great coat caused more than few grimaces.

He utters a brief résumé: "'Them or Me' was on an offshoot of Automatic Records. It was a bit duff really and after it we tried all the regular channels like sending demo tapes to major companies but got nowhere. Cherry Red became interested when they were still based in Twickenham and seemed to be really behind us."

"We didn’t mind the lack of money but when they moved to plush offices we wondered why we still didn’t have any money. 'Hungry' was exported to Rotterdam and started doing very well. It also did well in the American Billboard chart. I think Cherry Red have failed to promote us in the UK."

Singer and saxophonist John Lewis concurs: "Cherry Red are like a household. Everything neat and tidy. Eyeless in Gaza on the mantelpiece, the Dead Kennedys shoved into the electric meter every so often. We’re hidden away in a cupboard under the stairs. They spend too much time listening to people like Mark Perry."

On the day 'Glitterhouse' went on sale, a shop in Amsterdam sold out of its 85 copies. Later that same day a Belgian radio station interviews the band as part of a ninety-minute (!) documentary on them. Lowlands-wide, MM rank alongside the Comsat Angles in the big shifters of product league.

A packed club in the wintry wastes of the northern Netherlands is the scene of my first visual. I’m impressed but surprised when afterwards the group moan about their performance. Over the next eight days they proceed to dazzle me with their gig-to-gig improvement. For MM, each board-treading is vital. Not in the commercial give-‘em-a-good-time-so-they-buy-the-record sense but as a channel to unleash their pent-up energies and emotions. Anything less than a hundred percent commitment is considered a failure.

John becomes increasingly agitated as stage time approaches, pacing the dressing floor with a forced jocularity barely concealing his inner nervousness. First person 'on' is sound mixer Graham Spink, attired in black with a matching cheese-cutter style side-hat and occasional grease paint. Graham is not so much a 'fifth member' but more an integral part of the whole. During the set, his eyes rarely leave the flickering mixing desk dials. His body shakes to the beat as much as anyone on stage. He confesses to being 'hypnotised' by the music.

His pre-taped cassette sounds maintain an unpredictability quotient and often heighten the effect of any given song. A curious FM radio call sign got the Spink treatment one night in a Belgian hotel. He spent most of the night listening to its subtle changes, the next evening it was in the set.

"I record things with an ordinary portable cassette machine," he explains. "Anything that sounds inviting. I start started humping gear for the group and worked up. Before I did a university maths course, only for a short time though. That involved learning very strict and precise formulae that had no real value for actually doing anything. This is the complete opposite. You can be really spontaneous and use anything toward the end result."

In the flesh and on a good night, MM are so hot they scorch the ears, so danceable they blister the feet and can display such a masterful grasp of atmospherics and pacing (check the tense dynamics of 'The Glitterhouse' rubbing encore shoulders with the swaggering march Chairman of the Board’s 'Dangling on a String') that the hairs on the back of the average neck stand to rapt attention.

Consequently, I’m even more puzzled by the comparative barrenness of the album.

Andy: "Actually I think it’s fine. It captures the group exactly as it was in those three week. I always get babyish in the studio and start demanding my own way."

Alan (Turton, bass and group treasurer): "I agree it sounds thin but we’re the type of group that really needs a large budget. We spend four days on the 'Hungry So Angry' single so the album was much shorter in comparison. We also need a very good producer."

Possible future producers is indeed a vexed point. 'The Glitterhouse' sessions at Foel Studios were overseen by the resident Dave Anderson. Within the group is a desire for the unusually arrangement of having two producers. One to create a solid rhythmic foundation and another to deal with the more cerebral overlay. Visions of a George Clinton/Captain Beefheart combination abound although more practical is the idea of Graham being more greatly incorporated into the record making process.

Alan: "Arrrgh! I hate albums. What I’d really like to do is abolish the idea of albums altogether and just release twelve-inch singles. All I listen to is cassettes of twelve-inch singles, lps are basically boring."

With Europe being conquered territory by territory and a ten-date tour of the American East Coast a resounding victory, there remains the question of Britannia.

Alan: "I feel that Britain might be ready for us now despite the lack of press. Regional bands do not expect to be written about anyway. At least we’re progressing and working up in stages. Until a few months ago were thought sleeping in the transit was the norm. Staying in hotels (as they now are) is a luxury."