To those who witnessed this mythic band at their 1987 peak, and have continued to keep the faith in the intervening years, the chances of the lost Boys Wonder album ever finally making its appearance gradually dwindled from unlikely to improbable. But fans continued to scan the horizon for this great white whale because Boys Wonder weren’t a band you’d easily forget.
Imagine a seamless combination of the Pistols and Queen, ludicrously adept Tin Pan Alley-literate songsmiths perfectly bridging the gap between Ogden’s Small Faces and Parklife’s Blur (via early Bowie at his most flagrantly Anthony Newley). Boys Wonder were the glam-punk mods, metropolitan show-offs in wide-awake sartorials who’d quaffed deep enough on Malcolm McLaren’s koolaid to realise that in post-punk pop it was no longer enough to be just a band.
Boys Wonder (led by vocalist Ben and guitarist Scott Addison, cocky Dr Seuss twins, so far in your face they were virtually kicking you up the arse) wrapped solid tunes in lashings of flash. They had a mod attention to detail, the entire history of popular culture woven into their every lyric, and the storming self-mythologising self-belief of the Complete Control Clash. And then, after three ignored singles, they quit.
- “I stood there thinking: ‘He’s not going to drive the tractor into the swimming pool, surely?’ And he did”: The insane story of The Wildhearts’ Earth Vs The Wildhearts, the cult ’90s classic that should have been huge
- Five truly brilliant and cruelly underrated British rock albums turning 25 this year which I can't believe no-one else is banging on about
It always felt like Boys Wonder had arrived too late for the 60s or 70s, but subsequent events make it abundantly clear that they’d actually arrrived too early for the 90s. They were the blueprint for Britpop. Only better.
Question Everything isn’t quite the great, lost Boys Wonder album, because that doesn’t actually exist, but it’s as close as we’re ever going to get, allying the existing singles with their B-sides and near-immaculate vintage demos that round out the picture perfectly. Unsurprisingly, the A-sides are the gold (Shine On Me’s a particular work of genius), though majesterial flip Hot Rod finds ex-Haircut One Hundred (yes, really) lead guitarist Graham Jones channeling Brian May to regal effect. There are cheeky nods to a lost BW Lookin world throughout - upbeat London gazeteer Soho Sunday even briefly breaks into the Please Sir! theme, soaring Come On Love taps into David Essex, Platform Boots the ’orrible ’Oo, and Elvis ’75 swaggers and swanks exactly as it should.
Boys Wonder are back in harness, so don’t miss them. There won’t be another one along any time soon.
