
Exposed Vocals Interview: The Resurrection of One Million Fuzztone Guitars with Robert Courtney
Some albums aren’t just records—they’re relics. Buried beneath decades of dust and distortion, Everything’s Happening by One Million Fuzztone Guitars was thought to be lost forever, a forgotten transmission from the raw, chaotic frontier of underground rock. But now, against all odds, it’s back—remastered, reissued, and more relevant than ever. Its re-emergence isn’t just a release; it’s a resurrection. And at the heart of it all is Robert Courtney, the ever-evolving force behind the fuzz, whose creative legacy spans music, art, fashion, and film.
In this exclusive interview with Exposed Vocals, Courtney pulls back the curtain on the album’s improbable return, the evolution of One Million Fuzztone Guitars, and a life lived at the intersection of anarchy and artifice. What follows isn’t just a conversation—it’s a time warp, a manifesto, and a glimpse into the mythic life of an artist who never stopped dreaming loud.
Exposed Vocals: Everything’s Happening was long considered lost, only to re-emerge decades later. How did this album’s rediscovery come about, and what emotions did you experience hearing it again after so many years?
Robert: In 2019, Cherry Red Records approached Bob Dickinson of Monsters In Orbit to buy the master tapes of One Million Fuzztone Guitars singles and the album ‘26’, along with the rest of their catalog (long out of print). We agreed and then had to locate them; Dave Robbins and I had some. We then sent them off to Martin Nichols at White House Studio to be digitally transferred.
Along the way, I found the original ¼” master of Everything’s Happening and followed up with that having heard the results of the Cherry Red tracks. I was then presented with the dilemma of what to call it, as it was originally meant to be a One Million Fuzztone Guitars album but ended up being recorded by myself, with Scott Kheil of the band Slab (very loud, they played at our club, The Garage) on drums (as Steve Harvey was out of the country), and Radio Trent engineer John E Moon on keyboards and reggae bass for the final track.
This frustrated occasional Skin Patrol and then Pogues bassist Darryl Hunt. “How can you do a psychedelic, garage rock album and end it with a reggae track?”—even though I’d put my best Lou Reed, Velvets-style guitar solo at the end. One Million Guitars, particularly me, had always suffered from over-creativity and a wide musical taste.
I was DJing full time to finance the recording at a couple of clubs where you could hear anything from 50s jazz to The Jesus and Mary Chain via Chicago house, Washington GoGo, funk, disco, reggae, and Led Zeppelin. Nothing was off the table (or the decks). I’d particularly fallen in love with Barrington Levy’s ‘speaker-destroying’ Get Up Stand Up 12”, as well as playing Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew and Ciccone Youth’s Into The Groovy at the same time.
But back to the tapes—they’d all survived quite well; Martin repaired a few sections, just leaving me with the original quandary of what to release them as—One Million Fuzztone Guitars (a band they were written for but no more), Robert Courtney, or Vortex Patrol, a name suggested by Jim Morrison in the Rock Section Seances. The vinyl album went out under my name (a mistake in hindsight). Digitally, it is called One Million Fuzztone Guitars / Robert Courtney (confusing), so the compilation release of it will finally be One Million Fuzztone Guitars.
Sonically, I think it’s stood the test of time rather well, and if anything, it makes more sense now than in 1988 when I was told by every record company, “There will never be guitar bands again.”
Exposed Vocals: – Your music has always embraced reinvention, from the early Skin Patrol days to the latest releases. How do you see your sound evolving with this new re-release?
Robert: If One Million Fuzztone Guitars had a fault, it was being too creative. I grew up with Alice Cooper’s School’s Out and Amon Düül’s Made in Germany, where albums could encompass hard rock, theatre, jazz, psychedelia, and opera in under an hour.
Everything’s Happening was my attempt to be like The Ramones, where every song is a slight variant of a central theme, but I ended up starting with psychedelic rock and finishing with reggae. I have my Lou Reed hat: “Let’s play the dumbest three-chord rock song possible.” Then my disco head goes: “Four to the floor with synth loops and Stockhausen.” So I guess I just have to accept that’s who I am.
As a French friend once said, “Why make something simple when you can make it complicated!”
Exposed Vocals: – The new single is a controlled storm of fuzz-drenched riffs and raw energy. Can you talk about the recording process and what inspired this track?
Robert: Rock Section was always a bit of a free-form affair based around the Jim Morrison Seances we did as Skin Patrol and a lucid dream I had of seeing The Doors perform in Chislehurst Caves in Kent, when Morrison leaned over to me from the side of the stage and said, “write this down.”
My fascination with Morrison’s book Lords and Other New Creatures—an original of which I bought in the Mushroom Anarchist Bookshop when I was an art student—played a big part, along with An American Prayer. In 2023, I opened the letter containing the original séance transcript, sealed since 1978, and created the definitive version.
“I don’t want to die, I want to dance, to the music of the New Rock Section” is one of the original lyrics. The song had always played in my head, morphing and shape-shifting since the late ’70s. Originally, it didn’t even have guitars and was conceived as a techno Italo House track. The fuzz came later.
Exposed Vocals: – Your music has been called a fusion of psychedelic garage rock, post-punk grit, and alternative energy. How do you personally define the sound of One Million Fuzztone Guitars?
Robert: Born out of the golden era of 70s singles—Hawkwind, Slade, T. Rex, Bowie, Mott the Hoople—and other pop singles of the time, like Double Barrel, disco, and soul, mixed with US punk rock, the Max’s Kansas City compilation, Television, Modern Lovers, MC5, David Peel, Stooges, avant-garde classical and jazz—all channeled through Pebbles-style 3-minute-ish singles played on junk guitars and toy keyboards.
Exposed Vocals: – The band vanished underground for years, only to re-emerge with a cult status. Did you ever expect this resurgence? What has changed for you as an artist since those early days?
Robert: I’ve always known it would happen—just like I knew digital would happen, or hip-hop, or cover bands. The question was when.
I’d occasionally dive back in, like when Julian Cope released Rock Section in two versions with Andrew Weatherall to coincide with the book 131. That rekindled interest. But I’d always hit a tower moment, a crossroads, and vanish again on the mystical path.
In 2020, prepping definitive re-recordings for a One Million Fuzztone Guitars reunion (Steve, our drummer, was set to visit), everything shut down. I had time, I had money thanks to AutoCAD online work, and the gigs wouldn’t happen—but the music could. It was a gift.
Exposed Vocals: – Your career has spanned music, film, art, and fashion—from working on Hardware to designing for Pink Floyd. How do these creative outlets influence your music?
Robert: Everything was a means to an end, that end being where I am now—still writing and recording One Million Fuzztone Guitars songs. That’s not to say I didn’t love the other disciplines. I got off on creativity, even if it was for someone else. It also let me travel and see the world as a creator, not a tourist.
A friend once called it “reflected glory”—better than no glory, but not your own. I think of that Kim Gordon quote: “People pay to watch other people live their dreams.” I want to live mine too. The dream was always music. Always.
The trick is not to live an imaginary life in your head and a crap one in the real world. You’ve got to live the mythic life instead.
Exposed Vocals: – You mentioned some remastered live recordings. What can fans expect from these? Does your live energy translate differently than in the studio?
Robert: One Million Fuzztone Guitars and Skin Patrol gigs were always a bit “on edge,” being who we are. Sometimes it all clicked. I think I’ve captured some of those moments.
Modern tech can pull great sound from a C90 cassette now. Live is in the moment—studio is considered. I find joy in both. Anarchy & Artifice is an album title if there ever was one.
Exposed Vocals: – Many younger bands today draw from that same raw, fuzzy aesthetic you’ve championed. How do you feel about this resurgence?
The Fuzztones: I love Otoboke Beaver—they’re far crazier than I could ever dream of. I saw Slender Pins recently with a great track, War on Sex.
I can do without tribute bands. I predicted ages ago that rock would become like classical music—iconic pieces performed studiously. I prefer wrong notes played with passion.
Exposed Vocals: – With this re-release on the horizon, do you have any plans for new material, collaborations, or live shows?
Robert: I’ve got a stack of new songs. Just need to clear the decks of history first.
Always up for collaborations. I’d love to do spoken word over shamanic drumming. I once did a D’n’B version—totally brilliant, but they wouldn’t release it, so I used the lyrics in a techno track.
This is the year my book Department Store of the Soul comes out—maybe on Substack first. And yes, happy to play live.
Exposed Vocals: – If you could send a message to fans—both longtime and new—what would you say?
Robert: It will all become clear in time.