Deacon Blue, and other bands you'd happily forgotten until the Guardian dredged them up

THE Guardian loves its ‘How we made’ articles explaining how songs came into being. Unfortunately they also remind you of acts you were not a fan of at the time. Such as these…

The Beautiful South 

The song that somehow fascinates the Guardian is Rotterdam (Or Anywhere). It’s not great: blandly tuneful, with lyrics that are just a vague gripe about beautiful rich people, inspired by a hungover Paul Heaton visiting an upmarket bar in Rotterdam where the staff clearly wanted him to leave. Maybe they were worried he’d start singing Happy Hour, which is quite annoying too.

Deacon Blue

Deacon Blue plagued the charts of the late 80s with crafted, inoffensive pop tunes such as Dignity, about an ageing, downtrodden council worker who plans to buy a boat and call it ‘Dignity’. Subtle. However the real problem with Deacon Blue is that any mention of them instantly triggers a mental playback of their biggest hit, Real Gone Kid, and that ‘Hoo-woo-hoo-woo’ bit is one of the most annoying sounds created by man. 

Mike + The Mechanics

It’s not surprising you’d forgotten Mike and co. because they were f**king boring. All I Need is a Miracle feels like a song written for Britain’s dads to rock out to while wielding a hedge trimmer. It’s like they’d seen the big 80s AOR hits of REO Speedwagon or Toto, and thought: ‘We could do that but without the song being memorable in any way.’ Thank God it was Toto and not them who did the music for Dune. The 1984 version has enough things to take the piss out of already.

Babybird 

You’re Gorgeous is a misunderstood song about a photographer exploiting his models, but it still works as an ‘our tune’ if you’re in love with someone hot. If your partner isn’t gorgeous then cutely singing the chorus to them is just a dirty lie. They could be gorgeous in the metaphorical sense, which is presumably why uggos can get away with playing it at their weddings, but do you want to risk them taking it literally and coming home in tears because they’ve been laughed out of a modelling agency? Shame on you, Babybird.

Aswad 

Aswad are British reggae pioneers whose first album came out in 1976. However the song the Guardian thinks we should be interested in the production of is Don’t Turn Around, a ‘pleasant enough’, commercial-sounding number one in 1988. It would only really be interesting if they’d gone on to form a bland pop-reggae supergroup with UB40 and Paul McCartney, but they didn’t.

Landscape 

The best thing about Einstein a Go-Go is the Rocky Horror-inspired video featuring the singer as Dr Frankenstein, from an era where it wasn’t considered odd for Midge Ure to have his family wiped out in a nuclear holocaust for a pop video. Landscape’s shonky laboratory is enjoyably shite, but sadly the Lyricon electronic flute used for the main hook is quite annoying, so it remains a novelty classic rather than an actual classic. That, sadly, is what you get for playing God, Landscape.

Fairground Attraction

Folk pop should be banned under the Geneva conventions, but apart from that Perfect is not ‘bad’ in the Star Trekkin’ sense, just quite twee and saccharine. Still, you don’t have to listen to it. Except you do. It got massive airplay at the time, and its harmless, feelgood niceness gives it an enduring appeal for ‘golden oldies’ slots on radio stations. It’s like a relentlessly positive friend you fantasise about killing with a rock, even though that makes you a terrible person.

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The Gen Z guide to overcoming your terror of using a phone to talk to someone

A NUMBER of schools have given teenagers conversation lessons to overcome their anxiety about speaking to an actual person about Clearing. Here are some extra tips.

Try not to have a panic attack when you hear words

We understand it’s frightening when words are noises and not letters. It may sound like they’ve escaped from your phone and are flying around in the air, but they can’t hurt you, like a wasp. Well, words can hurt you, but let’s focus on making a simple f**king phone call to UCAS for now.

Try not to get bored

Yes, it’s incredibly boring listening to someone saying words on their own without a TikTok video. Do your best to pay attention, but if you can’t, don’t feel bad. It’s the other person’s fault for not being a ‘cake personality test’ or an eight-second video of Dua Lipa with the caption ‘She’s hot!’ or something equally perceptive.

You can’t use emojis 

Sadly, vibrating air molecules do not support emojis. If you feel you must include an emoji, say to the other person: ‘Imagine a sad, round, yellow cartoon face with two massive tears coming out of its eyes. That is my emotions now I am having to go to London Metropolitan University.’ 

Remember the person is not inside the phone

Words coming out of your phone is baffling, but if you unscrew it you won’t find an adorable little person inside. Or a ‘smol’ person, as you would say in Gen Z slang, unaware that it will soon all be as painfully dated as saying ’Dig the dolly with the classy chassis, Daddy-O’.

Don’t say all your words at once 

Don’t gabble ‘IneedaplaceatuniIgotaDinEnglishI’mLucycanInotgotoHull…’ for five solid minutes before ending the call. The aim is to pass on information in digestible chunks, listen to the other person, then respond in a logical way. Actually there’s no way your social media-addled attention span can cope with this. Get your mum to do it.

Be aware you don’t get likes

The person you are speaking to will not be tapping a button to register their approval of the conversation. If you have a pleasant chat they may quite like you as a person in the literal sense, but we appreciate this is a poor substitute for a counter that spuriously rates you according to the fleeting whims of random morons.

Practise on your parents 

Before you make the actual call to UCAS, practise by placing a large sheet of cardboard between you and your parents to simulate them being disembodied voices and talk to them. If you can’t think of what to say, try: ‘Sure enough, I have once again only deigned to talk to you when I need something. So while we’re practising my UCAS phone call, can I have a lift to Katie’s and some money?’