We've been through this before- the Screaming Trees are ready to do an interview, and singer Mark Lanegan has gone missing. Only this time, Seattle's most unpredictable star will apologise to Phil Alexander, ask him to breakfast, and tell him why the band split up three days ago...

The idea is simple. Take the greatest urban blues band of the '90s, put them in choice London watering hole The Blues Bar for a chat in fitting surroundings, and have a top banana time with a group who're not famed for their collective mirth.

As ever with the Screaming Trees, though, the reality is more complicated. Softly-drawling brothers Gary Lee and Van Conner (guitar and bass, respectively) arrive on time. But singer Mark Lanegan, second guitarist Josh Homme and drummer Barrett martin have gone missing. The Trees' tour manager Kevin Wilkins is conspicuously eyeing his watch. Martin and ex-Kyuss man Homme aren't the problem. Lanegan is.

At best unpredictable, prone to bouts of self-destruction and renowed for his alcohl and substance abuse, Lanega was last seen heading towards London's notorious King's Cross area. He is already half-an-hour late, and his absence does not bode well.

Neither do recent events in the Trees' camp- Gary Lee states that during the recording of the band's storming new album, 'Dust': "We hated each other a lot". They're seemingly still a band fuelled by friction.

Thankfully, when you informt he Conner brothers that you're here to talk about music rather than ask them from some Kurt Cobin anecdotes, they're up for it. And, as we wait for Mark Lanegan, you discover that it's good to talk.

...

The Conner brothers grew up in Ellensberg, Washington, two hours' drive from Seattle. Weened on their Mom's High School 45s (Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, The Beatles, etc), they shared a record player, and bought old albums cheap in yard sales.

"When I was about 11, I got Black Sabbath's 'Masters Of Reality' and that was it," states Van. "The next year I met a guy I was in Boy Scouts with who had this Motorhead record. I got into that, and then the same guy got me into AC/DC. Then I got into a lot of weird stuff like Gary Numan."

The brothers musical heritage stems back three generations to when their great grandparents toured the US as the Center Family Orchestra, giggin in "grange halls and playing to drunks".

When did Lee and Van start to follow in this fine tradition?

"With Lee and I sitting around a tape deck playing records and pushing the 'record' button to sing along to the choruses," continues Van. "When that first Police song, 'Message In A Bottle', hit we did the end bit that goes 'Sent me out an SOS'. So I guess that's why all our songs sound like outros."

Gary Lee recalls the first time he met like-minded freak Mark Lanegan in Ellensberg. "He was this little kid with red hair and a high voice." Strangely he forgot about him for 11 years, until Van bumped into him.

"I met Lanegan in High School detention," explains Van. "We started talking about music. One of us was wearing a Jimi Hendrix badge and one of the first things he said to me was, 'No one in this fucking town knows about Hendrix when he comes frmo Seattle'.

"This was, like, '82. We were in the same class the next year and we sat together. We didn't hang out, but we saw each other when we partied. I saw him at one party and he was all messed up. He said he was running from the cops. I think he'd just hit another car with his car. He just said , 'Man, let's form a punk rock band', so that was it."

...

Suspect band names like The Explosive Generation, and in Van's case, Millions of Dead Lennons came and went. The Trees were going to called The Freaks, until Lanegan, the Conners and origonal drummer Mark Pickerel (now in Truly) settled on their current monicker, inspired by an Electro-Harmonics effects pedel.

Toilet shows and indie releases followed, but it wasnt until the Seattle music explosion of '88-'91- Lead by Mudhoney, Tad, Nirvana and Soundgarden- that the Trees found their audience in Europe. Back home, the Seattle scene was still unacknowledged.

"I remember when Nirvana played in Ellensburg around the time they did that 'Big Cheese' single," recalls Van. "The guy who was running the show actually tried to shut it down. He got in a fight with (basit) Krist Novoselic and the girl who was managing them at the time.

"There were about 20 people there, but in Europe it was different. We got here and people knew all our songs and liked the same bands we liked. It was like at last we fitted somewhere."

But England was the only country not to embrace them with open arms, dispite early shows at Londong School of Economics and the Fulham Greyhound in honour of their landmark '89 album, 'Buzz Factory'. In fact, the 'Dust' tour is Screaming Trees' first major UK outing.

...

The trek itself hasn't been plain sailing. Apparently, the band have had to cut their set short due to Lanegan's ill health. As we begin to talk about the Trees' current state of mind, Martin and Homme finally arrive.

"That isn't true," says Lee of the speculation. "We don't play two-hour shows, and we usually do two more songs once Mark has left the satage."

Why do you do these songs without Mark?

"You can't conrol a voice like Mark's," explains Van.

"A lot of it depends on how many cigarettes he's smoked." jokes Josh. "If he's smoked enough, he can go on forever."

Dispite Homme's humor, you can help feeling that there is something wrong in the Trees camp. While Van admits that there've ben time when they've actually split, he doesnt' discuss any problems that may surround Mark's tempermental nature.

"This band is like being in a dysfunctional family, where you're used to the abuse so you keep on taking it," he shrugs.

It's 5:30pm and the rest of the band have to soundcheck. Tour manager Kev tells Kerrang! that Mark will speak to us after the show at The Astoria tonight. We don't hold out much hope.

...

It's 11pm, and the Trees have just played one of the gigs of the year. Within half-an-hour of the band coming offstage, tour manager Kev escorts us into Lanegan's dressing room. Coming face to face with Mark at this point is almost frightening. He is pale to the point where his skin is almost translucent. His hair is a matted ginger mop.

"I'm sorry about today," he apologises. "I had some stuff to do and I tried to get to that bar, but I lost my directions and spent £40 in a cab."

At this pont you run out of things to say. You feel as if you're invading Lanegan's privacy. Thankfully, he bails you out.

"Maybe we could do this tomorrow? Over breakfast?" he asks.

Arriving at the hotel in Kensington at 9.30am, you discover a healthier-looking Lanegan. He says he wants a cigarette. And maybe a cup of tea.

He has spent the whole night watching the news, angered at the revelation that the TWA flight which fell out of the sky over New York a few months back may have been shot down by the US airforce. "It's fucked," he snarls, snapping the filter off of a cigarette and lighting up.

...

You can talk with Mark about music for hours. He tells you about his Dad bringing home old blues records he found in a school loft, about his love for country greats like Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson, about how he traded a massive comic book collection for a load of punk rock singles. He also tells you that he's spent the last 31 years of his life avoiding getting a job.

Ask him about his achievements with the Screaming Trees, and you realize that the and are as likely to impolode now as they've ever been.

"Three days ago we were saying, 'Fuck this, let's give it up'," he states. "Everything seems to be 10 times harder for this band. Maybe it just the kind of people we are, but getting up in the morning is just a big pain the in ass.

"So three days ago we were talking about breaking up, and the the day before yesterday we were having fun all of a sudden. Last night, while I was watching the news, I was thinking about making another record with these guys and how I'd like it to be."

Wouldn't the Trees miss each other if it ended after 10 years?

"Put it this way- I'd like the chance to miss them." he grins. "We've done this since our late teens and that's big chunk of growing up right there. If you do it long enough, a lot of other stuff falls by the wayside and that fucks it up."

Like what?

"A lot of people think that this would be the greatest thing to do, but in reality it's not easy. I'm not going to sit here and bitch about it, because it's a great job. But all the stuff that people take for granted ends up being all thje stuff that you wish you had.

"In a lot of ways we're like homeless guys with spend all day hustling, and that's very tiring when you're 31 years old. When you're home, life has gone on for everyone else and you're stuckin this major timewarp. Nobody put a gun to our head, but you can't help missing what you don't have."

...

Lanegan rips the filter off another cigarette. You ask him about what it's like to feel like you've been analysed and dehumanised by the press and the fans.

"I have a real love/hate relationship with the audience sometimes," he explains. "The whole cult of personality thing I have a real problem with. I've seen how it affects people.

"What's been written and what's real are two different things. I'm one of those people who's had people treat me like a caricture, and I enjoy that about as much as I enjoy someone kicking me in the balls. So how much respect is there? Not much."

Has Mark ever worshipped his heros?

"I've been lucky enough to meet most of my heros, but their music is enough for me." he says. "I respect them as people. The problem is, people are so fucking rude to people who do what we do. And I can't fucking stand that.

"I'm usually the asshole, and a lot of my transgressions have been public, but they've always been for a good fucking cause. That's because I don't stand for any bullshit or rudeness."

As if on cue a cleaning woman begins hoovering dangerously close to our table. She could be construed as rude. We take it as a sign to leave. Mark picks up the tab, we shake hands, and he leaves.

As he slopes off across the hotel lobby, you can't help wondering wether Gary Lee Conner's wish to spend the next year "seeing as much of the world as we can and playing" will come true. You get the feeling Mark Lanegan may have different ideas.

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