Thursday, July 13, 2006

june brides - now i can be in a band

june brides | there are eight million stories

the on-going mythologising of UK punk has pushed so many lies into the realm of truth that i rarely believe anything i read about it anymore.
but the one claim that punk makes that i can completely understand is how it encouraged people to form bands and start making music of their own.

the band that did that for me was the june brides.
again it was a peel session that hooked me.
late 1985, four songs, beautiful tunes played on scratchy guitars.
and that voice.
i think it was, more than anything else, that voice.
it's a punk voice for sure - cracked, occassionally unsure of itself, full of fun and emotion.

you know i like so many thousands of other boys my age, adored the smiths (more of them later).
but the june brides came from a completely different place.
the smiths wrote lovely and very clever pop, but they were so obviously musicians with a capital M.
and they were being pushed so hard into every corner of the pop media.
for me the june brides created music equally as lovely, equally as amusing, equally as important.
and they had a sound that made me think for the first time that 1, i want to do this and 2, i really COULD do this.

after hearing their session i bought their album, "there are 8 million stories".
it's battered and scratchy now, but more often than not, when i listen to the june brides i listen to that record.
the recent compilation on cherry red is wonderful but my old old vinyl has so many important things locked in it's crunchy grooves that that's how i have to hear the june brides.

so much more than a favourite band.
within weeks of the june brides coming into my life i had started a band.
it was a rubbish band.
i mean really bad.
but it was a band.
and it was my band.

here's a thing.
i'm sure i mentioned this in my other blog after recording the last sarandon record - but it's fitting to repeat it here.

throughout the 80's and well into the 90's (and occassionally in the 00's) my favourite daydream would be bumping into phil wilson and starting a band with him.
i make no apologies for this silly little bit of childish wishing.
when i met phil i had already decided that the latest sarandon record would be called "the june bride".
in a moment of bravado i asked him if he'd sing on the record and he said yes.
i was excited.
but i hadn't realised just how much it would affect me.
i could barely contain myself - hearing phil singing a song i'd written and chatting with him is the first time i think i've ever been truly starstruck.
the rest of that day and for a good few days afterwards i was bursting into tears like a great big girl. completely overcome with what had happened.
when i got copies of the record and put it on i burst into tears again.

i can deal with it now.
it's under control.
i can shoot the breeze with mr wilson in a calm collected way.
phil - i'm sorry for being so embarrassing.


  • At 11:54 PM, Blogger PC said…

    The tour poster they signed for me when they played 2 very memorable gigs in Oslo in 1985 (I think) is one of the few pieces of pop memorabilia I have that has survived every house move since then. They didn't inspire me to start a band (mostly because I was the only one I knew into this sort of stuff), but Jon Hunter's fanzine (which he sold at the gigs) was the primary inspiration for mine.

  • At 2:19 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    a beautiful story


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