I’ve previously-documented my love for all things related to the band James. So if high-quality indie rock does nothing for you… I’d recommend skipping to the next post.
I don’t write a lot about my “private life”, this blog tends to be a place where I talk business, share strange things I’ve found on t’Interweb and, well, rant a little – but I’d like to share this. And you’re under no obligation to read it.
James has played a large part in my life as a parent: we discovered my ex-wife was pregnant the night we saw the band in concert (recorded for posterity on this album), our daughter was born whilst the “Best of…” CD was playing and the first “pop” song I remember our daughter knowing all the words to was this one. (In case there’s anybody still reading and interested, the first song I remember her dancing to – in the back of my car when it came on the CD auto-changer – was “This Charming Man” by The Smiths).
So, when I discovered that Bradford’s finest (ok, the band *claim* to be a Manchester band but singer Tim Booth is a Bradford lad and frankly we need the famous people more than Manchester does!) were playing the Bingley Music Live festival, a few weeks after the Munchkin’s birthday, grabbing a couple of tickets was a no-brainer.
A Dad, his daughter, some good friends, sunshine… and then James came on. There were a few too many new songs for the Munchkin to get completely carried away. But then the high point – possibly of her life so far – happened.
The band walked off. “Daddy, they haven’t done ‘Laid’…”.
I explained the concept of the encore.
The band walked back on.
The opening riff to ‘Laid’ started. Small person jumped into the air, hanging onto Dad for dear life and screaming every single word at the top of her voice.
God I love being a Dad sometimes.