It’s 1984 and from a distance, Bellshill and the other satellite towns and suburbs from whence The Soup Dragons will emerge could be any one of hundreds of underfunded communities where post-war high-rises loom over rows of artex-frosted two-up, two-downs. But come a little closer and it’s clear that something strange is afoot. A proliferation of rosy-cheeked, pop outsiders are forming bands and give them names like The Boy Hairdressers and BMX Bandits.
Sean Dickson, you have yet to find your co-travellers, less still agree on a comparably cute band name, but when this group finally comes together in the dimly lit rehearsal rooms of Glasgow – Jim on guitar, Sushil on bass and Ross on drums – you’ll have plenty to share with them. Because right now, it seems like you barely need to do much more than give your guitar a shake before – pif paf pouf! – another new song falls out of it. The Great Poprendo! Your football-obsessed dad doesn’t pretend to understand the appeal of the Swell Maps and Syd Barrett songs the band cover alongside your ever-expanding repertoire of original numbers, but he’s swift to notice that something exceptional is stirring and this will be your ticket out of here. Had you emerged from the tunnel at Fir Park in a full Motherwell kit and socked it to Airdrie with an injury time winner, he couldn’t cheer you any harder. And right now, every light seems to be turning green for your band.
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