Remember blogs? It’s been a minute, eh?
I’ve toyed with the idea of writing a final sign-off for this old nonsense for years and, like this whole damn adventure, it’s taken me a little while to get around to doing it.
I think I always wanted to write a bit of a ‘thank you’ sign-off piece, just to have here for anyone who stumbles back across this stuff. Somehow there have been 100 visitors in the last week which feels absolutely mad to me given the last posts were in 2021 (and really, that was a few months of being back at it due to having time back on my filthy hands due to Covid and all that), so I’m always really grateful that anyone at all has ever found their way to this nonsense as it’s probably the thing I’m most proud of.
Let’s do the full history lesson then, before the thank yous and goodbyes and all that sop. Strap in lads, I’ve accidentally gone to deep.
Music has always been the most important thing to me. Whether you mark the inception of this as starting piano lessons at maybe 5 or 6 thanks to my mum’s encouragement, or dancing to Cotton Eye Joe (still bangs) in my aunt’s kitchen, or even just being at home while my dad sat on the sofa listening to CDs, music has always been there. Actually, fuck it, it’s probably listening to the Smurfs Go Pop album and knowing every single word to an extent that I can pinpoint where the self-deprecation started.
Going to a secondary school that had a performing arts specialism was crucial to everything that’s happened since – being in a band from the age of 11 or 12 with some really talented musicians and always getting to play the fool on stage made me so, so happy. Could I sing? Could I Fu…, but that didn’t stop me from picking up a microphone and giving it my all – plus of course having a bass to play because I still cannot for the life of me work out what a singer should do with their hands.
Having encouragement from teachers (Sandie Utley, you absolute legend) and getting to play with loads of incredible guitarists, drummers, keys players and one incredibly sexy saxophonist who was wearing winklepickers at a worryingly young age made everything so fun. It’s why I went on to study music at uni, it was inevitable, and going to Liverpool always felt right.
I loved getting into the history of music, music in film, world music and all these other incredible things about music, but it was always the writing I enjoyed most. Loved being in a band too, to be fair, and that gave me some of the best days of my life. Playing to hundreds of people was a delight, and to do it alongside Josh Hill who remains one of my best friends to this day (rhythm sections are tight, lads) and Chris Mitchell whose guitar knowledge was exceptional made it all the more fun. There was also a guy who told a shit joke about lobsters. And Mark Hughes, not that one, who was our biggest supporter and thankfully caught so much of it on camera – something I’ll always be so grateful for.
Anyway, we’ve finally got to the bit where this blog starts, sort of. Quit the band, move to London, get a job in the music industry. Easy, innit? Yes, if by job you mean unpaid internship doing music PR for Jamie Cullum’s agent. It was a foot in the door at least, and how I met the brilliant Sam who I think actually still works in music. Great. This was when I start writing reviews for such luxurious titles as MyDadRocks and AAAMusic (No, me neither) before ultimately actually landing a dream role with The Ransom Note.
That’s where Wil and Ian come in, who ultimately are the reason this whole thing exists.
Wil ‘Big Hands’ Troup – The boss who took a chance on an indie kid for his dance music magazine. The reason I met Rebecca Lucy Taylor years before Self Esteem. The reason that if I spot a newsagents that also sells curries at the front I will never walk on by. He gave me freedom to write what I wanted, invent a new ‘How many Caribous out of 5’ rating system and become an editor for Mitch Davis, who remains one of the funniest people on the internet. It’s no exaggeration to say meeting this man changed my life and his encouragement led me to interviewing a Zuton, a Franz, a Khruangbin and ending up working with Andrew Weatherall, Daniel Avery and my absolute favourites The Hot Chips, thanks too to the effervescent Caroline Hayes for all your support and for correctly replacing me with the absolute babe that is Jack Needham.
Wil created such an incredible culture at R$N that meant the world to me. With a fantastic team of writers like Tonka, Joe Europe (great for 6 pints in The Boot), Miles Simpson, Aidan D’Araujo,Mike Boorman and his Fox, and all the others who wrote so passionately while Kieran actually ran the show and Bobby sat in the corner and tried to get me to try pingers. Unsuccessfully, of course.
But the big influence for this was Ian McQuaid. Sure, a brilliant writer and one of the most passionate people I’ve ever met when it comes to music, but he once wrote a Rihanna review that changed how I wrote about music. He absolutely disregarded the song and wrote entirely about a Terminator style future, completely ignoring the music and just writing what came into his mind first. That changed the game for me, and became how I always wrote for WCT. He showed me you could just have fun with it, not take anything too seriously and – when telling him about this years back – I’m pretty sure just replied “You can’t blame that on me.” Which is perfect.
So this site started as just a portfolio, with a name pinched from an obscure and frankly rubbish song from The Who – written and performed principally by The Ox. I still remember seeing this blog come up on Google for the first time when searching ‘We Close Tonight‘ and feeling like I’d made it. Somehow I started getting email submissions. God how I hate the email submissions, that’s probably why I stopped.
Bands started actually wanting me to write about them, something I still cannot believe, and I was only too happy to do so. If memory serves correct, the very first review I wrote I did a bit straight, did some actual research, researched the wrong band and got all the facts wrong. So that was the end of facts, and the start of the weird stuff.
We Close Tonight, or WCT as only I call it, started properly I guess in 2014. At that time I loved the life of going to obscure gigs at Birthdays, Power Lunches and any other tiny sweaty room that generally happened to be in Dalston. I still remember falling in love with bands like Alphabetic, Holy (who became The Americas) and the first independent artist I became obsessed with – Daisy Victoria, who I believe is still going under the name Vanity Fairy. An absolutely fantastic performer and I loved chatting with Daisy and her brother Sam at gigs and just seeing how much she loved performing.
This whole thing has never been about me, even when it’s been me writing that I’ve spilled food all over myself or just rambling about what’s happened to me that day in the most self-serving manner. At no point have I ever wanted people to focus on the words. It’s always been about the music. Everything is. I’m just filling space while you listen to the tracks, because that’s the important bit. I don’t think it ever really mattered what I wrote, I just wanted people to listen to all these incredible young indie bands who were doing what they loved and were great at it. I never expected anyone to remember a single word, I was just there to make sure the bands got heard.
I’m so lucky to have seen my name on PR pitches alongside Chris Hawkins, Shaun Keaveny and the legend that is Steve Lamacq – who I finally met a few years ago, while sadly incredibly drunk and unable to hold myself together. I still remember seeing We Close Tonight on a printed poster to promote an Arkham Karvers gig and feeling giddy. I still refuse to believe that anyone has taken this seriously, but every time a band so much as retweeted a review it made me feel incredible.
While writing this all out, I’ve had a look at the stats and it’s phenomenal to me that more than 75,000 people have visited this blog over the year – with hundreds of thousands of views, absolutely unbelievable. This was just something for me, to feel like I was doing my bit for the little guy and to find a love for music in a new way.
Sadly it got to the point where I found myself unable to deal with the 100+ emails every day while working a day job and trying to find myself in my mid-20s in London with all kinds of struggles from psychopathic flatmates, to an incredibly stressful real-life-journalism job in the courts (anyone reading this, please feel free to Google my name because some of the bylines on the Daily Mirror are still there and some of it was harrowing as hell). What had been my salvation started to become a burden, and I’ve always struggled with the concept of letting people down – which I felt started to happen with the blog increasingly over time.
So there would be big breaks, which I always felt ashamed by, and everything started to take a backseat. Then I started writing occasionally for Dork which was a fantastic outlet in it’s own right – giving me the chance to speak to the fabulous Johnny Quinn from SPINN while sat in bed hungover, and vitally interviewing Her’s who remain to be the very best indie band of their generation. I spent maybe 30/40 minutes on the phone with Stephen and Audun and they were just so much fun – probably spent too much time asking Audun about the cape he wore on stage, but I was obsessed. When the accident happened, I was heartbroken and still wonder just what great things they could have gone on to do.
I had a second wind when I started at Silverdoor, where I still work nearly 9 years on in a job that came about all thanks to this blog. Chris Hornby knows full well what an impact he’s had on my life, but I obviously can’t write too much about that as he’s likely to read this and I’ll have to speak to him after the weekend about it. WCT and Silverdoor became so linked in so many great ways. Chris introduced me to The Bulletproof Bomb, who I maintain should have been MASSIVE, and was great company at gigs – even the Gary Numan one we both went to and left early, with Wil and I ending up in the nearest Spoons instead. Gary, give it up mate. Recently I found one of the first gigs I covered when asked by Silverdoor, always knowing that Black Honey (Kill Moon at the time) were on the bill and discovered that LIFE were also one of the bands. Whatever happened to them, eh?
Working in music PR never really agreed with me, probably due to my own issues with rejection, and thankfully the company pivoted to social media as a primary business which I’ve found a passion for that I never knew existed. Mostly the numbers and spreadsheets mind, the general public aren’t my cup of tea. Perhaps it was having something else that I got to throw my creative energy into that meant this all took a back seat, or if it was just a case of not wanting to be behind a screen outside of work, I’ve really never been sure why I let this all slip.
But it did slip, and I made a conscious choice in 2021 to never come back to it. I shut down all the email addresses, told all the key people in music whose opinions I cared about and decided to call it a day. Do I have regrets? Sure, who doesn’t. But I had a hell of a lot of fun doing this and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I wrote more than 1,250 pieces for this blog. That’s mad. Like, think about that in terms of slices of ham. You simply couldn’t manage them all and you’d end up feeling sick. Actually, that works for both I guess.
Alright, that’ll do. This is far too much as it is, but it’s been nice and cathartic in a way. Closure, of sorts.
So the proper thank-yous, in the order I remember to add people I guess. I predictably haven’t thought this through.
Charlie Dixon – The original drummer, but for these purposes the designer of the original We Close Tonight hand-drawn logo and now an exceptional illustrator. A true artist in so many forms, and someone I admire so much.
James Morris – For the actual logos, which we both know we hate but never did anything about changing. Of course, all the gigs we went to together were exceptional – right through to last year seeing English Teacher – and to meet your daughter recently was a wonderful moment. You’re a truly lovely man, and I’m proud to call you my friend.
Sam Gibbs, Luke Green, Michael Weber – Sunburnt Ashes, The Absence, Supernova and all the other shit band names. We had a lot of fun, and I’m sorry for constantly being the problem. But above all else, it was funny.
Joshua Hill – My drummer. My mate. My mum’s favourite. Who the fuck is so good at both drums and violin? And so handsome, may I add.
Kim Astley-Cooper – The best PR boss in the biz. SuperCat are the absolute dons and the track record with bands speaks for itself. You started it all and I’m sorry for not realising you were a bloke until we first met in person.
Matty Aston and Lewis Lloyd-Kinnings – Not just the pints talking football in the Hawley Arms, but all the gigs together and the brilliant music you sent me. Lewis, I’m sorry the Soho Radio show never went anywhere but god we had fun giving it a try. Matty, Up The Toon.
Stephen & Vicky at Dork – Thank you for letting me do this all properly for a bit, and thank you to Stephen for calling me out for a joke reference I left in a Sports Team ‘review’. Made me so happy to know someone who I respected to much actually read all this.
Liam Ward – Liam James Ward, I guess? Loved you from the first time we met and your success is no surprise. Lovely walks in Richmond park discussing the viability of NFTs, and a great taste in where to eat.
Sam Tucker – You’re not always shit. Not always.
Sam Meaghan – The Pentatonic was under-rated you know. Always the person I’d turn to most when I struggled with this and the most-straight talking man I know. Sorry that I made your dog piss himself when you left me alone with him.
Jamie Glass – Thank you for putting my name in your album. And for that one lunch at Wagamama.
Pete Heywoode – You’ll never read this, but you changed the game with Nice Swan and honestly I still get excited when I get the emails. You simply do not miss.
Kimmy Dickson – Your gigs at the Underbelly were my favourites. He Is A Pegasus, Sophie Sutton and all the others, you are sublime and you are going to rule the world one day I’m sure of it. Sorry about that Girli gig, worst thing I’ve ever seen but I’m glad we saw it together.
Molly Dunne – You are a crazy ball of fun and I loved doing that god-awful radio show with you. We were absolute chaos back then, and it was brilliant.
Chris from The Finsbury – Thank you for letting me put on gigs. I hated it, but had fun. Could never get on with live events, but having my mates play in Johnny Kills and The Americas to a packed room made me feel incredible.
Jake Marley – The only other person I ever really let write on here. That says enough really.
The Gig Buddies – Mack Newton, Jamie Lewis, Samy Kahouadji, both the Kats, Simon Davis, Craig Cunningham, god knows how many other people I’ve dragged to shows.
The Artists – Charlotte Carpenter, CHILDCARE, TBB, Zuzu, Annabel Allum, Bryde, Alphabetic, SPINN, Daisy Victoria, JOLTA, White Fever, Savage Nomads even. I didn’t do a thing, you were all just great.
The R$N Office Massive – Kieran, Jim, Bobby, Ticker, Jack, Caroline, Wil, all of that bunch. You welcomed me with open arms and left me with a tray of tequilas and the Vengaboys. What a time to be alive.
All The People I’ve Mentioned In This Ramble – I simply cannot be bothered to write your names out again, but you all meant so much that I couldn’t leave you out of the storytelling bit.
Mum and Dad – You might actually read this far down. Words cannot do justice for all the things you have done for me in my life and how lucky I am to have had such supportive parents, especially through the times when I struggled to find my way. Sorry for all the swearing.
Becky – You’ve somehow missed this part of my life, despite being there through most of it by my side. This was never your world, but you always supported me with it and encouraged me to do what made me happy. I will never forget you and Katie discussing if I might actually be quite cool when I put on a gig at a packed out venue. I simply am not cool and never will be, sorry.
The final thank you has to be Katie Craik. The icon. You once told me this was your favourite blog, while introducing me to Ewan from Bad Sounds who you said were your favourite band. That moment, and your opinion on music, meant the world to me. You’re far better at this stuff than I am, the best there is. And the only PR to ever take me for pancakes instead of a pint – THE BEST.
If you’re still here, thank you. I mean it. This shit used to only be 150 to 200 words at a time, so this is all new to me. As always, it has been written in one continuous stream of consciousness and there will be no edits unless someone actively points things out to me.
I will continue to keep paying the costs to keep this site live as I never want it to be totally lost. It brought me so much joy, so many great memories and I hope you had fun along the way. Now I’ve got to go through and do the boring formatting bits and put photos in. Never mind, one last time.
So whatever happened to blogs, eh? They were great. So much brilliant music, so many stupid words.
You could come and listen, but we close tonight.
Ciarán x
We Close Tonight 