I passed through the less-than aesthetically blessed Swindon the other day on the train, and it sent me down an XTC rabbit hole, once again, as I recalled that they hailed from that town. This band was a huge presence on my turntable and in my imagination for a number of years during its prime, and I always vaguely thought Swindon must be some sort of really special place. I still have no proof that this is the case, though I am open to persuasion. On the other hand, this clip provides definite proof that they were probably one of the tightest and most musically adventurous live acts of their age, not long before it all went wrong for Andy Partridge and they were exiled to the strange realm of "studio bands who never play live."
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