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.

Beautiful pizza time

Do what I say, never do what I do
'Cos I'm the same as you

But why bother?

I'm on a Bleach Lab mailing list. I don't remember signing up, but I must have done at some point. Let's blame Bandcamp.

Anyway, they emailed last week to announce a new release, "a spontaneous decision to record a last minute cover at a live session last year" - specifically, their take on The Cardigans' My Favourite Game. Like must of Bleach Lab's output, it's perfectly serviceable but... well, have a listen.

Which is fine. But it's so close to the Cardigans' original, it really makes you wonder why they bothered. Or is that just me being a miserable sod?

Here's the source. Oh Nina (obligatory Scandi-sigh, etc)...

Randcamp: Valentine's Day

There are untold well-known songs referencing Valentine's Day. But what about the unknown? Searching Bandcamp for "Valentine's Day" throws up page after page after page of tracks; here are three that I could bear to listen to more than once.

Split Pistols were a four-piece from either Austin, Texas, or Pennsylvania, depending which line of their Bandcamp bio you choose to believe. I (predictably) like the jangly guitar intro to this, but am yet to be entirely won over by the vocal. Your mileage may vary.

Maddie Bryant comes from Huntingdon Beach, which is somewhere in California. Her Valentine's Day feels pleasingly DIY, with a sweetness and lo-fi pop charm, I reckon. Your mileage may blah blah...

Ross Adams comes from North Carolina, and is the most established of today's three acts, what with his own dotcom website address, studio albums, working with Jason Isbell, and such like. Probably the pick of the three but your mileage, you know?

Three Randcamp choices from the hundreds that matched today's search phrase. Are any setting your heart aflutter?

The day before

I know tomorrow is all hearts, flowers and Hallmark cards... but here's a reminder that it isn't always like that, from Graham Coxon's project with Rose Elinor Dougall, The WAEVE. Their capitalisation.

My boys
Pretty girls
Come to me
Let your dreams come true
Live among me forever

Young ones 
Stay a while
Fall in love 
Sail the seven dials
Let them bind us together 

How so warm, when so cold?

Ahhh, love is all pain
Thought I’d escaped it
But I need it again
It’s hard, it’s hard
It’s harder than hell
I know you feel it, babe
I know you can tell

Ahhh, love is all pain
Thought I’d escaped it
But I need it again
It’s hard, it’s hard
It’s harder than hell
I know you feel it, babe
I know you can tell

I gave you the moon
You made the sun 
That’s what it’s like when you love someone
Summoning life as souls collide  
See the past burn in the fire 
 
Not gonna live life in the shadows
That’s what’s it’s like when you love someone
Love hard, love strong all through the night
Live hard, live long don’t stop the fight
Not gonna live life in the shadows
That’s what’s it’s like when you love someone
Love hard, love strong all through the night
Live hard, live long don’t stop the fight

Never give up you’re in love this time 
Never give up you’re in love this time 

My boys
Pretty girls 
Come to me
Make my dreams come true
It’s the easiest thing to do

Alignment

Sometimes, not often but sometimes, mood, circumstance and music align perfectly. So it was last night, on the long, dark, lone drive away from everything and nothing.

Pan American are an experimental electronic music ensemble, according to Wikipedia, and have been quietly beavering away at this kind of thing for nearly 30 years.

Question and answer

Q. What do you think French-language Canadian shoegaze made by an impossibly good-looking collection of youths sounds like.

A. This. This is Minimum by Montreal's Bon Enfant.

And with all apologies for my O-level French translation...

C’est une belle journée Sans téléphone Il n’y a que toi Et le soleil qui rayonne Sans effets spéciaux Ta main dans mon dos Les nuages se déforment On dirait du pop corn On fait le minimum On le fait comme personne Juste le minimum On le fait comme personne C’est une belle journée Le vent qui résonne Assise par terre Dans tes bras grands ouverts On fait le minimum On le fait comme personne Juste le minimum On le fait comme personne

It's a beautiful day No phone It's just you And the sun shining No special effects Your hand on my back The clouds are shifting They look like popcorn We're doing the minimum We're doing it like no-one else Just the minimum We're doing it like no-one else It's a beautiful day The wind is rustling Sitting on the ground In your wide-open arms We're doing the minimum We're doing it like no-one else Just the minimum We're doing it like no-one else

Worlds collide

When two worlds collide, the result is often a giant mess. But just occasionally, something wonderful happens.

I've written about Abba's The Day Before You Came before - indeed, I made it a Clandestine Classic all the way back in 2012, when that series was still a thing. It is an amazing song, for me the crowning achievement of the band's storied career. It is their best lyric, by far, and the music, soaked through in quiet melodrama, oh! It's quite the thing, even now, more than 40 years later. The record-buying public were less convinced - it only limped to #32 in the UK chart. But what does the record-buying public know?

There have been lots of cover versions since, of course, notably by Blancmange and The Real Tuesday Weld. Now there's another... and it's a marriage made in heaven.

Pulp's skill with kitchen-sink drama is a perfect fit for this tale of minor-key heartbreak rooted in the mundane, whilst the arrangement and BBC Concert Orchestra backing do justice to the majesty of the music. And all for Radio 2's Piano Room feature! I hope everyone involved knows what they've got here, and I hope - forlornly, no doubt - that this becomes a regular addition to Pulp's live set, so well is it suited to Jarvis et al.

She's so strange

There's a woman who works in the same wing of the same floor of the same building as me. She's in a different department, a different team, and our respective jobs do not overlap in any way. We share a kitchen where we both make tea, and use the same printer, but that's about it. I only know her name because it's on her office door. She doesn't know mine, because my office is at the far end of a dead-end corridor (insert own joke here) and you'd never walk past it unless you were coming to see me. We have never spoken.

Except.

If she passes me in the stairwell, she always says hello.

Weird, no?