Memories, like the corner of my fringe

Mullet, Floppy Fringe and Ponytail - It's not a haircut it's a lifestyle

BBC 4 conceals its programmes more cunningly than a drunk at a party conceals his stash of cans. They just keep the whole thing a big secret but if you are channel hopping in the hope of finding something worthwhile for half an hour's entertainment they usually come up with the goods.

They have been showing repeats of that BBC2 favourite of students in the 70's and 80's, Rock Goes To College. Last week it was The Cars and this week A Flock Of Seagulls. What both programmes have proved beyond doubt is that once you venture beyond the Top Thirty hits of these two bands, and there are others in the series, you are moving from the fountain of inspiration into the desert of musical naffness.

The Seagulls concert was from 1983, which put it about nine months after there only Top Twenty hit. At one point there lead singer, Mike StupidHair, announced that the next song was their latest single - the crowd were completely underwhelmed and so it seemed were the public as, having checked the relevant charts, I can confirm it reached the dizzying heights of Number 53.

The funny thing about the Seagulls is that I saw them before they had a record deal, they supported Squeeze in 1981 when Squeeze were promoting East Side Story, and they were bloody good. Their mixture of guitars and synths was right on the button for the time, think of Depeche Mode, Visage, Cabaret Voltiare and load of plinky plonk bands and they were in the right place but just a few good tunes short of the right time.

The Cars are one of those groups whose output has been revisited many times over the past twenty years because their song Drive was used so poignantly during Live Aid as the soundtrack to the film of children dying in Ethiopia. Again it's all smoke and mirrors, I really liked Ric and Benjamin but you could fit all their decent songs onto one CD and still have room for a John Bonham drum solo. Their 'College' gig was at the University of Norwich, somewhere the locals go to study mustard and tractor driving probably, and the audience were pretty hostile when each new song that was introduced was as dull and inconsequential as the one before.

All these shows prove is that some bands were better than others and that, during the eighties, for every great gig by The Clash there was a dreadful one by Haircut One Hundred.