1967-disappeared 1995
"In the end Richey is one of those people who will always do the opposite of what you tell him."-James Bradfield
"We had so much poetry off anorexics and a lot of it was so shit even Richey was getting fed up - not another pile of this again. I said 'look I'm gonna have to write a song taking the piss out of their poetry', and he was laughing. Even though he was one - or at least an half anorexic - he could still see what I meant. He'd go, 'Oh no, not another fucking poem about eating an apple in the morning'. Though he was suffering, he still had it - the cynicism." -Nicky Wire '96
"The first time I ever saw Richey cutting himself was at university, revising for his finals. And he just got a compass and went like that (draws invisible blade across arm). But I knew a lot of people at university who did that, so when he did '4 Real' , obviosly I was really shocked."-Nicky Wire '94
"The only people who are disturbed by Richey cutting himself are those hwo don't know him. They don't understand...We do know him, we do understand."- Sean Moore '94
"Richey just reached a poin where something clicked. His self-abuse has just escalated so fucking badly - he's drinking, he's mutilating himself, he's on the verge of anorexia...there's a line in 'Yes' , 'hurt myself to let the pain out' . Richey just found it hard to say no to anybody, and that really was his way of letting out pain."-Nicky Wire '94
"I'm not a person who can scream and shout so this is my only outlet. It's all done very logically."
"We're the sad victims of the 20th-century culture. The cinema in our town, which is the poorest and most boring thown in the country, closed down when we were eight, so what do you do? You go out and pissed and have fights, or stay in and get on with your boredom. We were happier We were happier to go along with the boredom."
"My lyrics aren't really 'Baby I love you' , 'baby I miss you' , 'baby come back' or 'baby go away' which is like 95% of every record in every record shop in the world. What ever kind of writer you are, it obviosly expresses something about how you feel. I mean, if you spend your whole life writing love songs, you know, you probably are psychologically damaged. If you're that obsessed that everything you put down on paper is always about relationships, then you must have some deep-rooted flaw."
"I worked hard. Got to university, spent all my time in the library, never missed a lecture. All the time in the bar there were people who were, like, 'I ain't made one lecture this term. I'm so outrageous.' I think if you miss two or three lectures on the trot you should be fucking thrown out. Or drowned."
"We're shy people. When we go back home we haven't got this list of friends. It's not like, 'Waheey, the boys are back!' The four of us have always been really close, we never saw the point in meeting anyone else, really."
"People still got this stupid idea that I'm a loud, aggressive person. That by the things I've done I'd be hyperactive, talking all the time, running around going 'rrorrarrarr', smashing people in the face, kicking down doors. Which is not the case. I've never destroyed anything in my life, apart from a few guitars."
About the '4 REAL' -thing: "I was real fucked off with Steve Lamacq. I didn't know what I could possibly say to make him understand. How easy and cheap is it for me to just hit him? I would never want to do that. I would rather cut myself, because I feel I can justify that. Whereas I can't justify hitting him."
From the last interview: "The worst thing I did was to keep trying to be normal, which is how I ended up in hospital. Now I wake up in the morning and I know what I want to do - I want to write, it makes me feel better in myself...I value writing songs, I do regard myself as a good poet. I work hard. Songwriting is an art and I really try my best at it. The band is getting better and better, the lyrics are too. I've found better way to express myself...I don't think I've changed what I say but maybe I'm saying it in a different way."
Ten years it will be,
As fresh as the mornings dew,
ten years it will be,
since we last saw you.
The pain is fresh,
The pain is real,
With their last breaths,
The pain will remain too real.
Left everyone behind,
For his own solice,
The once nice boy,
Tranformed into a broken man,
For their lives,
They could not understand.
Eyeliner fresh,
Mascara runs,
Too skinny, too lost,
It's no longer fun.
The cuts bled freely,
But now they are healed,
I know how it feels,
Dreading that next meal...
Do the scars hurt to touch?
Can you still feel?
Ten years it will be,
As I fall to the ground, eyeliner smeared with tears.
Ten years it will be,
Since we last saw your pretty face.
Ten years it will be,
How we miss your style...
Your everloving grace.
Ten years it will be...
Oh darling Richey.
How we all miss thee.
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