A couple of weeks ago, in my occasional series where I feature compilation albums I picked up when I was a teenager making mix-tapes to please my peers in the sixth form common room, I featured an album called “Take The Subway To Your Suburb” which included, amongst a host of jingly-jangly indie-popsters, some proto-Pop Will Eat Itself, when they were still in their grebo mode.
Today’s vinyl selection is by a band who slotted into the same scene, but unlike the Poppies, they failed to move with the times, released one album (on Dave Balfe and Andy Ross’ Food Records, better known for fathering early Blur releases, amongst others) but were dropped by the label in 1989. They did release a further album, which I’ve never heard, but lack of commercial success meant their days were numbered.
I saw this lot once, in my first year of college, before I got involved in the Entertainments Committee (you should not take it from that that I wouldn’t have booked them when I did get involved); they were pretty good, good enough to make we wait until the end of their set before going to the Gents. High praise indeed.
As I entered the Gents, there was Keith, my housemate, washing his hands at the sink, which meant that Allie, a girl from Bristol who wore polka dot skirts that he was moderately obsessed with, was in the venue somewhere.
“What did you think of them lot?” he asked (he was from Yorkshire, hence the poor grammar).
I positioned myself at the urinal, my back to the rest of the room.
“Yeh, I thought they were alright,” I said. “Though I have reservations about any band that has a song called ‘I Don’t Want That Pint Of Blood’.”
At which point, the lead singer of the band crashed out of one of the cubicles.
“That’s not what it’s fucking called,” he slurred at me, pulled his leather jacket down taut, assumed rock star status and strutted out to meet his slightly more approving (and female) public.
And he was right, it’s not.
I may have misheard one of them, but they had some great song titles tucked under their belts.
Here’s some tunes from that Food release album I mentioned earlier:
(that one has a key change at the end that would make Westlife fall off their stools)
They haven’t dated all that well, but blimey I’ve loved hearing those again.