Another Sunny Day
London Weekend

It has already happened, on these shores, to mention Another Sunny Day, but no one had yet stepped forward to place a review.
It's a shame that I have to take on this thankless task because, as is well known, I don't know how to write. And I'm back after years of inactivity just because I can't stand the idea that no one cares about this album.

The setting is England in the '90s, first in Cornwall, then moved to London, most likely for a weekend, I suppose, and who knows if Harvey Williams then returned to Penzance as he intends to do in "I Don't Suppose I'll Get A Second Chance"; even though maybe it was just for the rhyme, who knows.
The label that releases them is Sarah Records, you know it, right? The beacon in the night for all indie pop enthusiasts, come on, you remember The Field Mice? The Brighter or The Orchids? Not The Orchid, mind you, those were emotional-mean, watch out for the plural. But at least The Field Mice and their Snowball which is with little doubt the brightest star of the whole genre. Okay, at worst, you can catch up on it now.

Another Sunny Day didn't have the same luck in terms of success and resonance. London Weekend is their only full-length, but it has always been overshadowed and unjustly overlooked by more or less everyone. Maybe you'll find someone who knows the single "You Should All Be Murdered", and indeed, even looking on YouTube, for instance, that song has something like 300,000 and more views, where others have 200, it's a lot. Probably attracted by the title and the blatant Smiths-ian influence, which, however, permeates the entire album, to the point that some dismiss them as mere epigones and little more.
The fact is, rather than epigones, they're like the children of The Smiths that Morrissey never wanted to acknowledge, and this is because in his egocentrism he certainly couldn't accept that the offspring would surpass the old man.
I admit it, I'm exaggerating, and I know that The Queen Is Dead here and Meat Is Murder (to a slightly lesser extent) there, but I'm not exaggerating too much either.

There are sweet melodies, twee guitars that we like so much, the voice that will probably appeal to those who actually struggle with the nasal timbre of the above-mentioned Original Deal Morrissey, songs that rarely drag on too long and apart from a few cases are consumed in a couple of minutes, everything is in its right place, the lyrics with a disillusioned and post-adolescent aftertaste with love as a leitmotif throughout practically every song on the album, silent love ("I'm In Love With A Girl Who Doesn't Know I Exist"), unjust love ("Green"), lost love ("I Don't Suppose I'll Get A Second Chance"), and even the hope, amidst the disappointment, of finding it ("New Year's Honours"). Simple lyrics that could almost be defined as banal but impactful, the kind in which everyone can see themselves at least in part.
An album ultimately for the loveless of the world, and indeed coincidentally it was released more or less a year after the manifesto from My Bloody Valentine, there must have been something in the air in those parts during those years.

Well, I no longer have anything to say, but I wanted to bring this unjustly ignored gem back to light, and if I have intrigued even just a couple of people, that's already something. See you at the next appointment, if and when there will be one.
From your most devoted and God-fearing Gallus gallus domesticus that's all, for now.