Echoes

I went to see Echo and the Bunnymen last night. I hadn't seen them live before, so wasn't entirely sure what to expect. Just as well.

The band took to the stage at 8.20pm in a swirl of coloured lights and smoke-machine fog, and without pre-amble were straight into their opening. It was quite atmospheric, and I had a decent-ish perch with a reasonable view from which to take it all in ... until a tall bloke a few feet in front of me decided to hold his phone up above his head, with both hands and in landscape mode, for the entirety of songs, videoing them. This irked me, but provoked genuine anger from people behind me, with shouts of "Put your f***ing phone down!" ringing out regularly.

As for frontman Ian McCulloch, well, he was in good voice when singing, but between songs mumbled barely audibly into the mic, then bemoaned the lack of response. But no-one could hear him enough to make out what he was saying! At one point, I think he said something like, "I like Norwich. Do you like it here?" and when there was very little reaction since no-one really knew what he was saying, I think he then said, "Only eight people like Norwich." No, Ian, only eight people had a clue what you were saying...

After half an hour, Ian mumbled something else and then the whole band trooped off stage. And were gone for about twenty minutes. Unexpected. Cue the whole audience heading in one of three directions - merch stand, bar or toilet, and that's in ascending order of popularity. It was a funny old crowd - I felt quite young, which is unusual at a gig these days. I also spotted more walking sticks at one gig than I have ever seen before, and I'm not talking anything fancy here, no, these were all aluminium NHS issue. Then there was a bloke with an eye-patch, and the woman with one of the worst haircuts I've ever seen (a greying mullet with Dave Hill fringe, lightly coloured with something pastel, and looking like it had been created with the Wayne's World Suck-Cut). And the tattoos everywhere. Not for this crowd the artistic tattoo or culturally appropriated eastern characters, oh no. These were the tattoos of daggers and hearts and "Mother", of back-alleys and DIY-jobs. As with the band's performance, I didn't know what I expected of the audience either, but it wasn't this. And don't even get me started on the noisy babble of chatting gig-goers...

When the band finally reappeared, they seemed more content to wheel out the marquee numbers - The Cutter, The Killing Moon, Nothing Lasts Forever (neatly segueing into a cover of Walk On The Wild Side), and a joyous Seven Seas. But even for these, McCulloch spent much of the set perched on a wooden stool - I couldn't help but contrast this with the energy and showmanship of Brett Anderson from last month's Suede gig at the same venue. I know Ian is eight or so years older than Brett, but the difference was stark. But anyway, before I had too long to muse on the fact that even heroes get old, McCulloch (who turns 67 in May) mumbled something else into the mic and the whole band trooped off again...

...and there was an old-school length of time before the encore was granted. It felt like nearly five minutes, but surely that can't be so? Anyway, the band played two more songs, including a thumping Lips Like Sugar, and then, with a mumbled thank you, were gone. The house lights stayed down a long time, giving false hope of another encore, but finally flickered into life. The show, after an hour and 35 minutes of which about 25 were spent off-stage, was most definitely over.

Re-reading the above, I completely accept that I sound like a miserable sod. I also realise I sound judgemental when it comes to the audience, most of whom were entirely lovely (except the gig-chatters - they can get in the bin). I amsk what I amsk, as Popeye used to say, though I accept that's no excuse. For the avoidance of doubt, I should state for the record that I enjoyed the gig and had a good time, but also that I felt a little short-changed for what was not the cheapest of tickets. Everyone else seemed to be having a better time than me though, if the amount of bad drunken crowd-singing and the number of smartphones held aloft to film are any barometers. Sorry, judgey again. For me though, it was a seven out of ten gig at best. Suede last month were an easy nine. Am going to see Gene again later this month, and am expecting that to be a ten.

The best bit of the gig though was also the most important part - the music. These were highlights for me.

TLAP: St Austell Proper Job IPA 0.5%

You know how it is, by now. I found myself in the supermarket, looking for an ale to accompany that evening's pizza and film combo. A familiar name hoved into view...

St Austell Proper Job IPA 0.5%

What's it like? In recent TLAP posts, I've talked about the difficulty in trying to make an alcohol-free version of an existing, well-loved ale - it can be very hard, as Adnams have found with their 0.5% Ghost Ship. Fortunately, though, Cornwall's St Austell Brewery have shown that this alchemy is not impossible, with their 0.5% IPA. Genuinely, if I hadn't looked at the label (and, let's be honest, bought it), I would not have known I wasn't drinking the real McCoy. It completely looks, smells and tastes the part. Speaking of taste, there are subtle citrus and grapefruit notes in this... but primarily you get lovely light, clean hoppiness and a nice bite in a very easy-drinking package.

Bottom line - St Austell have, fortunately given the name, made a proper job of this.

Would I drink it in a pub? Yes.

Would I drink more than one? Yes.

Would I drink it all night? Yes.

Stats: 0.5% ABV. Calories 21 kcal/100ml. Currently £1.95 for a 500ml bottle in Sainsbury's

Stars: ★★★★★

As usual then, a song. What to post for a "proper job"? Some live Johnny Marr, of course, here doing The Right Thing Right.

Thank you for the days IV: Sunday

And so, the fourth iteration of this blog series comes to an end. Congratulations if you made it to the end. Just remember, however trying you found it, I had to write this stuff.

Sonic Youth have not featured on these pages often enough. Let's start remedying that now, with their Sunday from 1998, which is laden with all the motorik rhythms and scuzzy guitar you might expect. The slightly odd video features a late-teen Macaulay Culkin.

Next up, The Doors, with Blue Sunday from 1970's Morrison Hotel. This is alright, though Jim's lyrics are far from his best. It's a simpler, bluesier affair than most of the previous album though, and no worse for that. Of its time, maybe, but then aren't most things?

Let's end with some Cranberries. Sunday was the third track on their debut album, Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can't We? and was also released as a promo single in the US. It's archetypal Cranberries: Marr-inspired guitars, Dolores's distinctive vocals, syncopated drums and singalong lyrics... what's not to like?

Well, at least this all ended on something good. Hard to imagine there will ever be another round of Thank you for the days ... but then last time I confidently wrote, "There will be no part IV. Part IVs are for Star Wars episodes and Rocky. Don't even try to persuade me."

But really, that's it: the end. I mean it this time. Honest.

Thank you for the days IV: Saturday

Saturday. Just get this out of the way, then we can all look forward to the end.

Let's start with something bright and breezy: this is Saturday by Saint Etienne. If you are generally well-disposed to the band, everything you already like is present and correct here. As an aside, Sarah and the other two (sorry) have announced their final tour, with dates across the UK in September. Miss it and miss out, as they say.

Surprise time - I bet you didn't have Sam Fender on your New Amusements bingo card, did you? No, me neither. But whisper it quietly, this is alright, for modern chart fare. God, I hate how old I sound. Anyway, adjust your expectations and see if you can stick with this... Bonus Super Hans content in the video too.

One more Saturday, this time by Starbenders. I know nothing about them other than that they have a terrible name (admittedly that's opinion, not fact). This has a nice jangly intro that caught my ear, but sadly after that this descends into disposable MOR territory. For all this sounds like it came from somewhere in the 1987-1992 soft rock wasteland, it was actually recorded and released this year. Amazing.

Only Sunday left - please join me in a collective sigh of relief.

Thank you for the days IV: Friday

Friday. We can soon put this series out of its misery. If it were a horse, etc...

Lily Allen is a funny one, in my book. She managed to dodge the nepo baby tag by actually being objectively quite good at her thing, early doors. Now, apparently, she's made a whole album slating her ex hubby. But this, Friday Night is from her first flush, and is a great short story song.

Here's a very different Friday Night, from The Darkness. I don't mind Justin Hawkins - he doesn't take himself too seriously, at least he doesn't seem to, but on the quiet he is a proper aficionado, with strong, informed opinions about music in general and the music business in particular. Either way, Justin and his mates seem like they had fun making this. Good on them.

And now something for all those coming to this blog series for a dose of crap '70s prog ballsackery. This is Friday the 13th by Atomic Rooster. Behold the ridiculous album sleeve art and adjust your expectations accordingly.

Saturday next... rounding the corner into the home straight...

Thank you for the days IV: Thursday

More twaddle from me featuring songs with the day of the week in the title. What a time to be alive.

Must be a little bittersweet to be a Futurehead. Yes, they've achieved a degree of fame and even longevity, but they're still best known for covering other people. Still, this is one of their own, so that's a relief. Their Thursday was on 2006 album News And Tributes, and has a great first line.

By contrast, The Icicle Works' Sweet Thursday doesn't have a great first line, but is an inoffensive slice of 80s pop that I'd completely forgotten about until researching this post. That maybe tells its own story, maybe not. See what you think. Fun fact: in the US, the band were just Icicle Works - no definite article. I don't know why.

And if the 80s weren't far enough back for you, To Claudia On Thursday by The Millennium dates from 1968. And it's very much of that time - all flowers in the hair, sunshine harmonies and mind-expanding substances. This is alright though, even if it didn't lead to bigger things for the band: one album, one standalone single, and they were done.

Friday tomorrow, and it's all downhill from there...

Thank you for the days IV: Wednesday

What now? I hear you say. Three songs with the day of the week in the title, that's what! I spoil you, I know.

Tori Amos is quietly pretty amazing sometimes. Her Wednesday is nearly a quarter of a century old, but still sounds fresh and innovative. So literate too. This is from the Scarlet's Walk concept album, and describes the eponymous heroine getting into a new relationship with a partner whose secrets make her suspicious. We've all been there though, right?

A change of pace now with some electronica from New York's Fischerspooner. Their Wednesday comes from the 2009 album Odyssey. Fun fact: Fischerspooner's name comes from concatenating the duo's surnames (Warren Fischer and Casey Spooner). Your definition of "fun" may vary.

How to follow that? How about with some pre-Purple Rain Prince? This is Wednesday from Piano And A Microphone 1983, the album of demos his estate issued posthumously in 2018. For the casual fan there possibly isn't too much here to get excited about, certainly little indication of what was to come post-Purple Rain. But this is Prince, so we can view it from a different perspective.

Thursday tomorrow, and past the halfway mark. What do you mean, phew?!

Thank you for the days IV: Tuesday

You know the drill by now: three songs that have the day of the week in the title. I wish I could make it sound fancier than that, but I can't. And they say blogging has run its course!

This is On A Tuesday by 80s indie nearlymen The Loft. They reformed recently after 40 years off, did you know? I saw them support The Wedding Present last year, and very good they sounded too.

Primal Scream are a funny lot, aren't they? I'm not sure they've ever really been sure what sort of band they want to be. At various times they've been rave-lite, The Rolling Stones and here, with Gentle Tuesday, they make a decent fist of being The Byrds. I don't mind this at all.

I don't know but I imagine Everything's Tuesday by The Chairmen of the Board would go down well at a Northern Soul night. This is from 1970 (a fine year) and features the original Johnson/Custis/Woods/Kennedy line-up of a band that would change much over the years. That "HDH" on the sleeve, bottom right, is the clue that The Chairmen were signed to Holland-Dozier-Holland's Invictus/Hot Wax group of record labels.

Wednesday tomorrow! Whatever next? (Thursday, obviously...)

Thank you for the days IV: Monday

It seems like only yesterday, in blog terms, but it's actually three years since I ran the Thank you for the days series. You'll recall the gist: each day I'd post three songs that had that day of the week in the title. And since I ran the series three times, I've already featured nine songs for each day, and that's why I stopped running it - the law of diminishing returns kicked in, and it got too hard to find more songs that were either good or interesting or preferably both.

Well, in three years since, I've been making notes and squirrelling songs away in my YouTube Watch Later list, and now I think I have enough candidates for one final run. See what you think.

First up we head back to 1996, where we find Wilco at their most bar-band. Having said that, the brass that kicks in around the 1:40 mark elevates things for Monday by Jeff et al.

Next up is Quadeca, about whom I know very little (though Wikipedia tells me his real name is Benjamin Fernando Barajas Lasky). His take on Monday was the second single from the 2025 album Vanisher, Horizon Scraper. I don't know if I like this or not but it certainly falls into the "interesting" category. Chamber pop, apparently.

Let's close this for today with a song for my old man, who has always loved Karen's voice. This might be twee, MOR, easy-listening ... but 72 million views can't all be wrong. Besides, that voice... Dad's right about that.

Guess what? Tuesday tomorrow! Control your excitement...

I've got the key to the door

I don't think turning 21 has quite the significance it once did, but it is still the minimum age in the UK for adopting a child and for supervising a learner driver. Regardless of such useless trivia, this blog is 21 today and, somehow, still here, albeit with plenty of style and location changes. Incredible really but, long as that seems, I have older band t-shirts. Anyway, sorry for all the crap posts.

Here's an appropriate song by The Cranberries, and a reminder of why the late Dolores' voice stood out so much.