So Much For The Aftershow
Before I tell about how great this record is I would like to tell you a few choice facts about Mr.
He kissed a Spice Girl when he was 13 (he doesn’t say which, so I’m guessing it’s Geri or Mel C, I’ve seen Mel C up close, she looks like a shaved badger. True.)
His first punk band was dropped by their management company in favour of Busted.
He has a day job as a promoter with acts as disparate as The Cheeky Girls to Nick Oliveri.
You know that whole thing about 1st albums & 2nd albums. Somebody once pointed out that you have your whole life to write your first album & maybe a year to write your second, which you inevitable write whilst touring & promoting the first album, so all the songs are about hotel rooms & tour buses.
So Much For The Aftershow is what happens when you’ve been touring, promoting & watching bands your whole life, but with rickety transit vans & gigs in the back rooms of pubs instead of the aforementioned comparative luxury.
The raw & joyfully ramshackle nature of each brilliantly woven tale of a life a lot of you will know all too well is as punk at its heart as any noisy racket you might hear, if not more so. There is an honesty & warmth to this rocked out folk that makes you feel like he’s on your side.
A lot of modern folk is just too wishy washy, but this collection of three chord goodness has an edge & a “It’s Funny ’Cause It’s True”-ness to the lyrics that lifts it far above most singer/song writers I’ve heard this year, or last year, or for a really long time.
If you’ve ever got the last train home having watched a band play in front of less than ten people, or carried an amp, or handed out flyers, or slept in the back of a transit with a cymbal bag for a pillow, I guarantee you will find something about this record to fall in love with. Mr. Saunders has one thing that 99.9% of people releasing music don’t have: He’s the real deal.