"... and the runners up are Elastica, but the winners of the award for band least likely to be seen on stage are Prefab Sprout." A strange night, then, when both of these bands are playing live in the same city.
On the warm-up tape, in 'By The Time I Get To Phoenix', Glen Campbell sings, "By the time I make Albuquerque she'll be working", but Prefab Sprout seemed determined to make up for lost time, arriving on stage, 8pm sharp. No support.
Or at least a band took the stage - looking like The Grateful Dead. Paddy McAloon appeared to have aged faster than his sold out audience, who were still old enough to make it a good night for the local baby-sitting industry.
The set consisted of two and a half-hours-worth of the Prefab Sprout back catalogue, rich in lyrical detail. The first half consisting mostly of album tracks and late period (ie: 1990) songs, the highlight being 'The Sound Of Crying'.
But it was the second half in which the show became more enjoyable. Kicking off with 'Andromeda Heights' highlight 'Electric Guitars' and swiftly followed by 'Cars And Girls'. Then 'Carnival 2000', which seemed to be the only song with even the vaguest connection to the fin de siecle frenzy that wasn't released at the end of last year - an admirable stance by any measure.
Next up, 'Hey Manhattan', and when McAloon, with his grey beard, sang "this is God here", in 'One of the Broken', it certainly looked like it. Closing the half with 'When Love Breaks Down' and 'Goodbye Lucille #1' they stalked off stage.
The audience waited politely for the inevitable encore, and when the band came back, expected the missing songs, 'Nightingales' and 'The King Of Rock And Roll', but they never came. On Prefab Sprout's first tour since God was a boy, is this really the time to be so wilful? It could have made the difference between a competent show and a great one.
