Along with Republic(a), Symposium are the only other band I can think of named after a Plato text. The fact that they’re more intelligent than yer average young rock band and they play chess on the Brat Bus tour bus almost makes it relevant, as Nathan found out.

School bands, eh? Every school had one and generally they play a couple of pubs in town and everyone goes to get pissed. Initially, Symposium were just another one of these school bands, starting out with jams in the music room and the youth centre. They might not have gone much further, and would have ended with the call of work or university, as so many school bands do. The difference between Symposium and the others comes in the unlikely form of a new bassist, an A-level drop out called Wodge. Wodge happened to be a songwriting genius, and Symposium began playing ‘shitty pubs around London’ before management followed at the end of 1995 and record deals in 1996.

So, they’re young, they run green, they release on obscure record labels and compilation albums. Is this an anti-major label stance? “Not really, its just that the guy from the label we signed to was really nice - we liked him far more than any of the other labels.” says Wodge, resplendent in a truly appalling cardigan. “We had offers from EMI and Epic and stuff, but we just didn’t like either the people there or the kind of deal they were giving us.”

The fact that Symposium have only released one limited edition single means that they’re the only band on the tour who aren’t top 40. Are Symposium over-awed? Of course not. “It makes no difference at all, just because you’re in the top 40 doesn’t make you a good band, even though all of these 3 bands are all right. We’re much better than a lot of stuff that’s in the charts, and we will be in the charts this year” proclaims guitarist William, the smallest member of the band and the one most likely to be asked for ID in the pub. “If nobody else buys it, I’ll buy 40 fucking thousand singles, and we’ll go in at number one.” This provokes a fevered discussion amongst the band about how much money you would need to buy enough singles to get to number one. It turns out that Hagpop (guitar) and Wodge have Armenian-Polish Mafia connections which will sort them out whatever chart returns they want. And for once they don’t seem to be joking, so lets move on.

Apart from organised crime, Symposium have very few skeletons in their closets. Their parents are supportive, as are their mates. They don’t see any former teachers to find out what they think, but if they did, Hagpop wants to give them all a big ‘Fuck You.’ They do drink, Hagpop even smokes, but he can only do it in one part of the bus. They have no ambitions to fall for the rock-and-roll lifestyle, and even dispute whether one even exists.

Symposium truly aren’t a band who pursue the rock and roll lifestyle, as they testify when they elaborate on their encounter with Tiger’s Julie. “She came onto the bus, while I was playing Chess with Hagpop” says Wodge “and she accidentally knocked over all the pieces. We told her to get off the bus, and shouted at her.”

Hagpop then tries to justify the cause of their anger:”It was the first time we’d played in quite a while, and it was getting interesting because he [Wodge] is really good and I’m pretty rubbish. He made a mistake and so I was getting in there, and then it was gone.” When the game of chess was resumed, the Symposium bus was gatecrashed by Geneva, Tiger, the NME and the crew, but they left shortly afterwards as Symposium weren’t in the mood for the party.

Musically, they seem happy being tagged as a Monkees / Pistols hybrid, with American influences along the lines of Fugazi and NOFX. Wodge, however listens to Doris Day and Classical to get to sleep. His dad works for Andrew Lloyd Webber (which is the first and only time that name will appear in these pages). Apparently he’s a fan, and Wodge reciprocates by professing a liking for Jesus Christ, Superstar. So that’s a passion for hardcore, chess, Lord Andrew, clean-living, Sepultura and Doris Day. That’s more contradictions that a Tory manifesto, but somehow Symposium make it work gloriously.

Symposium were talking to Nathan, in January 1997.