Some people just record and fling something out and see what happens. Not The Sundays. They are perfectionists. At the time, despite the industrial noise of the hot-water system and the frequent burglaries, this felt like the perfect writing environment, and virtually all of what ended up on our first album originated there.
Not very poetic, but there you have it! The album sold well but, regrettably, trouble was ahead. No hard feelings at all, they had no choice really, but it was heartbreaking. The Sundays moved to Parlophone, and followed up with Blind But then they simply stopped making records.
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These cookies do not store any personal information. Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website. Of course, to really appreciate the impact of the Sundays, it's instructive to look back ever so slightly earlier, to a time that, for a significant sector of the music press readership, was something of an annus horribilis some time before that phrase had really developed much cultural currency, namely This, you'll recall, was when the still-going journeyman phase of Johnny Marr's career really began in earnest, when the notion of things as post-Housemartins referred to their dissolution rather than their figurehead status, and when the indie charts were overrun by - wah!
Yes, we know, but it was a far more purist age. Come to think of it, that'd be quite the sight to behold even now Little wonder it was so adored back then, but what's perhaps surprising is the potency it retains even stripped of all that context. This, it must be said, is down most of all to one salient point: nothing at all wrong with the rhythm section, of course in fact, drummer Patch Hannan would go on to appear on one of the decade's most underrated albums, theaudience's splendid debut , but the Sundays' charm has survived chiefly because they were helmed by two thoroughly stellar talents.
Conversely, David Gavurin is one of the great overlooked guitarists of the entire canon; he might display shameless debts to more familiar figures at times the aforementioned Marr on 'A Certain Someone', James Honeyman-Scott on 'I Kicked A Boy' , but there's a passion and a very real sense of release to his excursions in spangle'n'jangle that make for listening that's much more bewitching that any mere xeroxing could be.
What's also especially striking - and, given the title, wholly appropriate - is just how strong a reflection of student-age life this is, which, on reflection, is a rarer gift than might initially be assumed consider, if you will, how much easier it is to rattle off lists of artists whose oeuvres correlate with adolescent experiences or properly grown-up concerns.
At times, this can be remarkably specific - the excellent 'I Won' is perhaps the only song to ever build itself around flatshare politics - but it also captures the sensation of a life spent in preparation for a rather daunting sense of possibility.
On top of this, there's a fearless smartness in abundance here that it's all too frequently been reasonable to contend has been the great casualty of indie's exodus from the ghetto. The Sundays were never as prone to flourishes as, say, Wild Beasts, but there's a similar enthusiasm for language, punning on the militaristic aspect of the phrase "Salvation Army", opting for more poetic turns of phrase when lesser artists would have unthinkingly travelled a far more prosaic path "it's that little souvenir of a terrible year that makes my eyes feel sore," for instance, is a lovely touch , and coming out with throwaway jewels and joltingly organic observations at regular intervals - it's difficult to think of anyone else, even back then, whose finest hour in 'My Finest Hour' would be simply "finding a pound in the underground", and even listening now lines like "fit the flowers in the bottle of fake cologne" leap out as inspired and uniquely evocative.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Not to be confused with The three Rs. The Sundays. Retrieved 27 January Chicago Sun-Times. Archived from the original on 18 November Entertainment Weekly.
Retrieved 12 December NME : Q : August Rolling Stone.