Kevin Haskins - Tones On Tail / Love and Rockets

Tones On Tail / Love and Rockets

When Daniel Ash pursued his first side project Tones on Tail with bassist Glenn Campling, he asked Haskins to play drums. He again utilized Kevin for his next band Love and Rockets which also featured David J. Despite their previous band's Goth status, Love and Rockets moved away from that genre. Their first release, Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven (1985), leaned more towards psychedelic music. In 1987, Earth, Sun, Moon had a folkier sound and spawned the minor hit "No New Tale to Tell."

In 1989, Love and Rockets released "So Alive," a Top Ten hit. After a grueling tour schedule in support of their big hit, including one with The Dandy Warhols, Love and Rockets took five years off before returning to the studio together. The result was a move to a much more electronic sound that had more in common with the Orb than their rock or Goth roots. A few more records were released including Sweet F.A. and Lift, but interest in the group increasingly dwindled and the band's members went in different directions in 1998. It was then when Kevin decided to make music from his home so he could spend more time with his wife and two daughters.

Read more about this topic:  Kevin Haskins

Famous quotes containing the words tones, tail, love and/or rockets:

    And this mighty master of the organ of language, who knew its every stop and pipe, who could awaken at will the thin silver tones of its slenderest reeds or the solemn cadence of its deepest thunder, who could make it sing like a flute or roar like a cataract, he was born into a country without literature.
    Willa Cather (1873–1947)

    Who is going to raise the dog’s tail if he doesn’t do it himself?
    —Estonian. Trans. by Ilse Lehiste (1993)

    Doesn’t that show what an old man I am, when I can say to a mother “I love your daughter,” and not get the reply “what are your intentions, and what is your income?”
    Lewis Carroll [Charles Lutwidge Dodgson] (1832–1898)

    The Thirties dreamed white marble and slipstream chrome, immortal crystal and burnished bronze, but the rockets on the Gernsback pulps had fallen on London in the dead of night, screaming. After the war, everyone had a car—no wings for it—and the promised superhighway to drive it down, so that the sky itself darkened, and the fumes ate the marble and pitted the miracle crystal.
    William Gibson (b. 1948)