(Big) John Wayne Socks Psychology On The Jaw Dept.

Hatfield And The North, apart from being possibly the greatest band name ever, tells you a lot about the kind of college-educated smartasses amusing themselves here. In the U.S.&A. romantic-sounding state and city names lend themselves to rock (and indeed roll). Tennessee, New Orleans, Phoenix - these are mythic destinations. What do the poor old Brits have? Liverpool? Go down there to "do nothing." And it's hard to imagine anyone writing a rocking celebratory anthem about, say, Bedford. Or Durham women. "The Hatfields" got their name from a London road sign. Nobody knows or cares what or where Hatfield is, and "The North" just indicates a threatening wasteland of absolutely no interest to Londoners, or anyone in their right mind. The sign, like all British road signs, is more of a dire warning than an indication of somewhere to go.

Everybody - a relative term, here - associates "the Hatties" with the Canterbury Sound, which was like the Boston Sound, only on a much, much smaller scale. There were only maybe half a dozen Canterbury Sound bands (make your own list), and the sonic shock wave they made spread no further than college kids drinking subsidised warm beer in Student Union Bars with Lord Of The Rings murals and foosball machines operated by coins on mandolin strings. What a time it was to be alive!

Not even Caravan - perhaps the exemplars of the Canterbury Sound - made much of an impact in the U.S.&A., and I suspect "The Hats" will be new to possibly 3 of the 4/5g©. The first two albums are as much as you'll need, and maybe more than you want.

Does humor belong in music? Not taking yourself seriously certainly does, and it's a quality lost on, say, Chicago.