What's In A Name?

Got home reasonably early from work and spent quality time listening to Soft Machine's third album, cunningly entitled Third. Did so at a reasonable volume as the Missus and youngster are out for the day. Puzzled over one of the minor mysteries of our time: why is the production on Third so bad? Great music but sonically the equivalent of a bog, and I'm talking about a bog with attitude.

But this led to a happier thought. Isn't Soft Machine the coolest name ever for a band? It manages to sound soothing and menacing all at one go. And the nod to Burroughs gives it huge cultural cachet. (Steely Dan come a close second on the cachet, of course, and add a touch of naughty irony, but the actual name doesn't do a lot in itself.)

And that led me to consider the other extreme. What might be considered the dorkiest name ever for a group? Oddly, the answer came immediately. Think of those lovable lads from Liverpool - the fab four themselves. We're so habituated to the idea of The Beatles we forget what a gormless moniker it really is. Just about the only thing going for it is the implied homage to Buddy Holly's Crickets, but even that is undercut by the horrendous pun.

Just as a matter of interest, I know for a fact how silly it really sounds because I remember the first time most of England, and my younger self, heard it on the telly. This was at the time of the release of Love Me Do when the single was first played on Juke Box Jury. The panel, the studio audience, my family and myself all chuckled at the sheer silliness of hearing anyone referred to as beetles, and I distinctly remember the six- or seven-year-old version of me thinking, before the song was played, This is going to be a novelty record and a one-hit wonder at best. At least the thought was to that effect even if the word novelty was not yet in my vocabulary. So there we are. I rest my case.