My first effort was surprisingly well received (The Box Tops), but I fear this might not be quite as appreciated or perhaps the OMJ honeymoon period is over (as if)!
Anyway, the backstory … falling for Failsworth’s finest.
My heart sunk a little bit when my friend from that way said we were going to see his mates’ band. I was looking forward to catching up over a few quiet, then rowdy, pints around “the Pole”. An evening of third-rate indie from swaggering Mancs in big coats and sunglasses wasn’t my idea of a good night out.
I needn’t have worried. What I witnessed was astonishing. A fully formed, very tight group with great tunes, basslines to die for, an angelic voice singing something slightly sinister sounding. I felt immensely privileged to see them that night before these songs inevitably became stadium anthems. They reminded me of The Chameleons, Joy Division and even early U2, but obviously far better. To make the evening even sweeter, they were all sound lads, up for a drink and a bit of a chat.
A little while later, I took some mates from home to see them at The Duchess and they were all instantly hooked, becoming fans for life.
I remember seeing them supporting Marion in Liverpool. I liked Marion, but felt sorry for them having to follow them. Blown off stage doesn’t begin to cover it.
Mani’s biggest claim to fame is that his brother Greg roadied for them and he was in the “Walking Dead” video with Bez and Fatneck. Well, it should be anyway. Gazza liked them that much he gave their singer his Versace shirt when they appeared with him on TFI Friday.
I was convinced they were going to become huge as Britpop dragged on, producing more bland songs about getting pissed in Camden or snorting coke in big houses for the successful ones. This was something new, different, better.
Puressence would indeed become massive … in Greece! Ah well …
They split in 2010/11ish and singer James (Jimmy) Mudriczki went on to form Nihilists, work with Humanist and Judy Collins before announcing a comeback at Manchester Albert Hall, which took place last week. Of course, it sold out instantly as their legend has spread over the years they’ve been gone. Ironically, they’re probably bigger now than at the time, often described as “Manchester’s greatest undiscovered/most underrated band”. Disaster almost struck, as it so often has in their career, and Jimmy suffered a brain haemorrhage in the run up to the gig. Fortunately, the rumours he’d died were false and they apparently played a blinding set.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t make the Manchester reunion, so hoping it wasn’t just a one-off. Surely they wouldn’t go to all the trouble of reforming and rehearsing just for one night?
Anyway, if you haven’t heard them before, I think you’re in for a treat. It’s difficult to pick one song as an introduction, and I ummed and ahhed for a while, before deciding on the first song I remember hearing them play all those years ago and which became their first single on Island Records. “I suppose that I’m alright now …”