Wolverhampton's Mighty Lemon Drops don't want to be tagged an 'independent' band. Martin Aston handles the definitions, Meir Gal the visuals.

"All they've done is take a few old riffs, leather jackets and a mean and moody face. Then you get all the majors chasing after you" (Rob of Stump).

If, as we're reliably and ritually informed, 99.9% of all known independent germs are an indefined but heartfelt marriage between the nurtured songwriting arrangements of the sixties and the punkbubble guitar hailstorm of the seventies, then The Mighty Lemon Drops are the perfect independent band. They're also the first of the new breed since The Mary Chain to leave the press-defined 'indie ghetto'; this supposedly means they're no longer an 'independent' group, but a 'major' group. The A&R man from Mars' leading label scratches his antennae and wonders what is going on. One fact is certain — The Mighty Lemon Drops themselves want nothing to do with the box-builders.

"A few months ago" reminisces guitarist David Newton on behalf of singer and second guitar Paul Marsh, bassist Tony Linehan and drummer Keith Rowley, "we got moulded in with this phrase 'the independent ghetto'. There are a lot of groups around that scene. I don't want to mention any names but obviously if you read this..." Come on, come on... "Bands like The June Brides.."

Keith: "The Bodines, Creation bands.."

David: "That kind of thing, loads of others. I can see the difference. How do you describe it without offending? I'm not saying they're no good but they've got nothing in common with us. Ask someone else."

You get the fascinating feeling that The Mighty Lemon Drops hate the thought of being 'indie'-classified in case anybody would match them up with the feared image of what it means to be an 'indie' — a squalid little twilight zone where ultra-naive whippersnappers fumble together a few bric-a-brac chords and sell 27 copies of each single while suffering from radio deprivation disease. Let's sort this out now. What are you standing for that these indies aren't?

"What do you mean 'standing for'?" David retaliates. "We're standing for writing good pop songs and playing them to intelligent people. I don't know what they want to get out of it. If a band has a really good-selling single, they're only kidding themselves when they say they don't want to take things further. We'd like to get our records heard by more than 3000 people. I'm not saying these groups don't... but I don't know what they want..."

Simply speaking, what The Mighty Lemon Drops want is a secure future which not unreasonably necessitates some reasonable financial backing. After much speculation — who will, how much, when etc — the band got their wish via Rough Trade's Geoff Travis, the man behind the Warners-funded Blanco y Negro, who signed them to his new indie-licensed operation Blue Guitar, this time floated by Chrysalis. As for the emergence of the Lemon Drops — stars of just one rivetting 12" single "Like An Angel" c/w "Something Happens" and "Sympathise With Us", a recent seven inch addition with "Now She's Gone" the new B-side, plus one fifteenth of the NME C-86 cassette (they are an indie then!) — as New Breed Torchbearers comes as no big surprise. Musically as tight as Phil Collins' snare drum, the Lemon Drop Kids are a superb, sharp, sleek rock machine, short on emotional candour, high on velocity, rhythm and an uncanny melody, driven as much by naked ambition as by Britain's most physical guitars. What disappoints most is their orthodoxy; what excites most if the brilliantly executed rush of rock dynamics, a further reshaping of old gold material, streamlined and repolished like a new sports car (in their black leathers, they'd all look less the part on BMX's..).

We already know what this group aren't so what are they? Well, in common with the way New Wave built on Punk's pummelling beat with added chords and arrangements, The Mighty Lemon Drops are New Wave Vintage 1980-81. The first time I caught them alive, I left convinced I had found the lost chords between The Bunnymen and Wah! Heat, like each group playing each other's songs. Not that The Lemon Drops are that crucial yet or independent enough from their influences (and talking about Liverpool '80, a favourite encore is The Teardrop Explodes' "When I Dream"). Throw in The Stranglers' grunging, melodic basslines and a portion of The Doors' clotted atmospherics, and what you hear is hardly a goofy June Bridges on a shoestring. It all makes this term 'independent' too redundant to work with. I think it originally meant alternative (and in which case, what alternative do The Lemon Drops provide?) but now has only to do with record distribution and not any musical ideal. The group were signed to Dreamworld who are independent, but the group argue that they don't want 'independence'. I think this argument has run it's course.

So if The Mighty Lemon Drops (formally The Sherbert Monsters) are going to be h-u-g-e, we have a right to know who they are, right?

Young, gifted and black-leather jacketed then, but as The Mighty Lemon Drops walk on down the street, getting the funniest looks from every indie band that they meet, what have they got to say? Wolverhampton's finest export since Derek Dougan's right foot don't appear to be self-styled spokesmen for their generation — not for them the tightly drawn-up manifesto drop-kicked over the goalposts of ideology or any call to kick over any statues. If they're committed to any ideals, they don't wear them as badges but neatly woven into the seams of their jackets, kept for themselves, not for any cause. So, yes, The Mighty Lemon Drops are an out-and-out pop group — why, look at their name!

"We're not going to change the world" offers Tony meekly.

"We're the type of group that the word 'tractor engine' wouldn't fit very well in one of our songs" David adds.

"It's a group of words that fit together well" offers Paul.

Since the group see any audience communication as false gestures of patronising showbiz — Paul's been known to utter the odd song title or say 'goodnight' if they've got something monumental to celebrate, and anyway, the silent-men-with-no-name broody approach is at least a change from the outstretched arms of a Bono or Waterboys — I go for the lyrics. "Saw her in the sky", "tell me how you get so high", "break on through to the other side" (and these boys are touchy about Doors comparisons!) — it all verges on the feet-off-the-ground psychedelic experience. 'Atmosphere' building, I believe.

Tony: "We write our songs about the same things The Beatles wrote theirs about, or The Shangri-Las or whoever. You think of classic fifties and sixties pop songs, they're not about politics. We just write them in the same way as they did."

David: "She Loves You', what do you think of that? You don't think oh God, what are they trying to get across maan. You think God, that's a great single."

What about "Like An Angel"?

David: "It's not about anything. You better ask Tony, he wrote the lyrics."

Tony: "It's about dependency if it's about anything."

David: "What would you like it to be about? A lot of people say their songs are about nothing but they still get double-page spreads in the music papers."

Tony: "I think something can be entertaining even though it doesn't have any deep meaning. I mean, look at Duty Free on the TV."

Does this mean The Mighty Lemon Drops are the Mr Mister of the independent world. No wonder they've been signed up to a major.

David: "I think that's a stupid thing to say."

Keith: "We could say what they're about and get accused of being pretentious."

Tony: "It's all down to boy-meets-girl, girl-fucks-off!" Oh.

The Mighty Lemon Drops have been in the studio with Stephen Street, the engineer for "The Queen Is Dead", and an album is due later this month, according to the plan. Sweet pop music and sourpuss smiles, wrapped up in black? What was that Rob of Stump said?