Last weekend, reader-turned-writer Mike clenched his fists and boldly dragged us on a quick tour of Wigan’s music scene. His assessment, like most of The View From… articles, is a dual-edged one of cautious optimism and scathing criticism. Though how a man living in the City That Donk Built can complain is beyond me, frankly.

The Suzukis are a product of Wigan too, and possibly began as a deliberate counterpoint to Donk’s strangely lovable bouncy ridiculousness.

By name alone, The Suzukis sound like they ought to be a zippy, throwaway power-pop punk band – one who…

I can’t even remember how I discovered today’s new band. I will tentatively claim that I received an email from a rapt fan about them, but frankly it could have been from anyone via any medium. It could have been a psychic visitation for all I know.

I’m going to blame old age for forgetting. The truth – that I’m too disorganised to really remember – is the greater of the two evils.

This forgetfulness may well signal of the Beginning Of The End, the descent into premature Middle Age that I’ve always feared. Hey ho. When I start pootling…

It’s still holiday season, and so the ANBAD donkey is still on holiday, possibly sitting at a jauntily amusing angle by a pool somewhere, but definitely sipping some mmm… delicious Kopparberg cider as he does it.

Kopparberg is pear cider, though really there ought to be a portmanteau word – ‘pider’ – to make it easier for drunks to say. And what a nice bunch of people work for them: after tweeting a disparaging message about their annoying advert on Spotify, I received a love-bomb email asking me to contribute to the next Kopparberg Spotify Mixtape.

Which I…

It turns out there’s quite a lot of bands named after Douglas Firs. Who would have thought? In the interests of fairness, let us list them all:

• The Douglas Firs - a ‘Jam Funk’ band, influenced by – yikes! – Ben and Jerry’s favourites Phish;
• The Douglas Firs - a contemporary acoustic duo with ‘thought provoking lyrics’ who probably don’t know who Phish is (lucky them);
• The Douglas Fir – tantalisingly singular, and in possession of a song called I Think I Loathe You;
• Douglas Firs – Belgian Ryan Adams-a-likes drop the definite article for a zany twist on

…

I got drunk last night. I didn’t mean to, but when you go to a party sometimes you just become a victim of circumstance. The party was in a swanky 11th floor apartment, with a killer view over this moderately fair city of Manchester.

Drinking sangria and watching the sunset, I mused out loud that I’d spent a vastly disproportionate amount of my time watching the sun set, but that none of it was wasted. A chorus of voices agreed. We all sighed, pondered for a moment on life’s transience, and then got back to the business in hand: gulping…

I’m not going to lie. I’m not the most organised person in the world. But even I feel awful that the reason that this following piece showcasing the dubious and multifarious delights of the northern English town of Wigan was that I simply plain forgot about it. Awful, awful, awful.

Still, Mike has written a snigger-worthy and idiosyncratic view of his hometown of Wigan – a place that has a number of unusual spots in the annals of pop history.

Mention Wigan to anyone, and if their first reaction isn’t “Where?”, it will inevitably include reference to one of…