by Terence Dackombe When you really love an artist or a band, it really does feel like that devotion and passion that we encounter in the throes of romance in the form of recreation that we like to refer to as ‘real life’.
There’s nothing to be gained if I simply bang out a few hundred words documenting the bizarre graph of a career that sums up the existence of XTC. Wikipedia will do that for you, or even better, the still relevant 1992 biography written by Chris Twomey, ‘Chalkhills And Children’.
Yes, ok, nothing to be gained by that so what are you going to write about then? Well as XTC have taken such a random path to what appears to be destruction (though nothing should be discounted), it seems appropriate to bring some irregular and haphazard thoughts to the chaos theory that is the metier of these four, three, two (?) blokes from Wiltshire, England.
As I often do, I’ll start at the end. It all comes down to money. Finance, its source and its distribution are the recurring theme in the tumbledown existence of XTC.