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 Everett True

Song of the day – 275: I, Ludicrous

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“Hello, we’re I, Ludicrous…”

What you have here, ladies and gentlemen, is the Greatest Song ever written about the nightly indignity thousands of bands suffer the world over. Being the support band. You might think it’s not a competition. It certainly isn’t. Not for these poor sooks. They’ll be lucky to get out of the club without been charged for the couple of beers they stole from the main band’s rider. They’ll be lucky if more than a lone disinterested bartender watched their entire set. They’ll be lucky if someone didn’t run off with the van’s wheels while they were loading the gear in back.

“The guitar’s out of tune/We’re not very good/We’re the support band.”

“The singer’s too fat/The vocals are flat/We’re the support band.”

“The riff’s second-hand/We stole from The Damned/We’re the support band.”

“The crowd doesn’t care/Because the crowd isn’t there/We’re the support band.”

SING IT!

“We’re from out of town/The van’s broken down. We’re the support band.”

SING IT!

“We’re THE SUPPORT BAND! We go on and on and on and on and on. We go on and on and on and on and on.”

SING IT!

“Every time that we’ve played/We’ve never been paid/We’re the support band.”

SING IT!

“We’re THE SUPPORT BAND! We go on and on and on and on and on. We go on and on and on and on and on.”

Listen and weep. Listen and weep.

I have, almost unbelievably, a 30-track (or so) album from these South London ‘lads’ AND the original seven-inch flexi ‘Preposterous Tales’, for which I interviewed them on behalf of Page 2 in the NME in 1987. And this song is quite the equal of Art Brut’s ‘Formed A Band’, and that song is quite the equal of any other. I mean (shrugs) for support band territory.

Here’s I, Ludicrous. Be gentle. Their van’s broken down again.

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