Of the many bewitching bands to come out of the 1980s, Cocteau Twins were perhaps the most singular. A Scottish-London trio comprising Elizabeth Fraser, Robin Guthrie and Simon Raymonde, their enigmatic appeal was heightened by the fact that Fraser appeared to be singing in a language all her own, while the music – often gossamer-light and celestial – sounded like it should be pouring down cathedral walls. Each song’s title was poetry in itself: For Phoebe Still a Baby, The Itchy Glowbo Blow, Sugar Hiccup.
In bassist Raymonde’s memoir, he attempts, decades late, to disassemble their mysterious allure by confirming that they were, in fact, merely human. “Sorry to shatter illusions, but a cerebral bunch of intellectuals we were not,” he writes, revealing that they gorged on the TV show Rab C Nesbitt. He does, however, confirm that they were “difficult”. Obstinate, too: they turned down invitations to Top of the Pops, passed on the opportunity to have Brian Eno produce them, and said no to writing the soundtrack to David Lynch’s 1986 film Blue Velvet.
