“The song made us fall in love but I hated it”: How Haircut made 100 amazing days | culture

Nick Heyward, songwriter/vocals, guitar

If I had been sitting down when I wrote Fantastic Day, the song would have been different, but I was standing in front of a chocolate brown wall with the names of all my favorite punk bands written on it. I was imagining the future. It was 1978 and my family moved across London to a place called The Skating Club of Great Britain where my parents ran the pub. We lived in the basement and I had a small room that looked like a ship’s cabin.

I was drawn to bands that had a guitarist playing and singing, and my heroes were Andy Partridge of XTC and David Byrne of Talking Heads. I was learning to sing and play at the same time using a homemade microphone stand and the only chords I knew at the time: D, C, and G. I started singing “fantastic day” over the top, perhaps just because of my youthful exuberance. “I suppose this is a song,” I thought, “and I suppose this is my song.” It seems to come from this magical, subconscious world. I also remember thinking: “Well, clearly this has already been done.” But when I asked around, no one else could think of a song called Fantastic Day. At that time, it was difficult to verify.

The verses came together more consciously, while the words evolved over time. Early on, I never wrote down any words – as a child, I stuttered and stumbled, so I learned to carry on by not trying too hard to remember something. I loved to make things in an instant, inspired by everything that was around me. I still do it now. The opening words – “Well, there’s a lot of stress about getting on this train” – came very late in the day, after I’d seen Sheena Easton perform her song 9 to 5 on the TV series The Big Time.

I didn’t intend to make it a bittersweet song, but there is a sense of light and dark in it, and of duality. I was doing commercial art in my late teens, in a room with no natural light, and it was driving me crazy. All I wanted to do was music. I think this is reflected in some parts of the song, such as the spoken word verse: “I tried to shave myself / Be a happier man.” I think it was only added when we were in the studio recording it. Bob Sargeant brought the same record production experience as George Martin – he knew I was a Beatles fan and he added the trumpet fanfare. I wanted to tip my hat to “She Loves You.” Bob understood how to do this musically, by adding the jazzy sixth string.

The song goes right back to my birth where I had this vision of doing what I’m doing now, imagining it for a long time and then finding myself actually doing it. I enjoyed that mayfly moment all over the world, and I never got tired of singing Fantastic Day. Every time I do it I feel completely refreshed, just like the first time.

Les Nimes, bass guitar

I hate a great day! I shouldn’t because it’s the song that got us signed. We did a show for Arista – I think we played a couple of songs and we weren’t doing well. I suddenly thought, “Well, why don’t we try this thing I hate?” So we played Fantastic Day and they said, “Cool, we can get something here!” I mean, I think it’s a pretty strong chorus. It’s very attractive, isn’t it?

Most of Pelican West’s albums are quite funky, but some of the other poppy songs like Snow Girl and Milk Film sound more interesting to me. Being inspired by what Nick was doing brought out something else in my bass lines. I will try not to go over the obvious. I was thinking: “What would Ronnie Lane or Tina Weymouth play?” But because “Fantastic Day” was written at the beginning of our playing career, before we really knew what we were doing, the chords in the verses go from C to G, and from C to G, and it was hard for me not to follow along — which I did.

In the early days, we used to ride on every car that went. We were a punk band, a ska band, a mod band. We’ve tried everything, and Fantastic Day has always been there, presented in different styles. The original version, when we called it Moving England, was very urgent, had more Talking Heads, and even had an element of jam. I preferred it then, I must admit. It was raw. Then it evolved into a little pop song, a bit more polite.

I may sound too down for it, but I’m really not – it led to some great moments. When we first toured the States, we stayed in a rock and roll hotel in California, and Rafe Ravenscroft, the guy who played saxophone on Baker Street, was sunning himself by the pool. We talked and invited him to our show and he stepped up and jammed on an amazing day.

When we finally returned to the States two years ago, we met people who were seeing the band for the first time, 42 years after they had become fans. They’ll say things like: “That was the song that got me through cancer when I was 16.” I remember seeing a woman standing in the audience with her husband’s arms around her shoulders and as we started playing the intro to Fantastic Day the tears started streaming down her face – we were full on stage too. Even though I said, “If I had to pick one song to take out of the set, this would be it,” I know what it means to people.