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Winston Echo looks like a very nervous Frank Black, alone up there on stage, frantically strumming away at his acoustic and exhorting us all to shut the fuck up: his nervousness communicates itself as charm. He stops a number, forgets words, starts another, takes requests, sings pitiful and lonely songs about dole life, falls in love with someone on the Bureau de Change desk, hopes they notice him, strums some more, words nearly lost in his earnestness. Id say he was a nascent English version of Daniel Johnston, if that wasnt too obvious or a Noughties Clive Pig.
I love to compare people to Clive Pig, cos no one knows what the fuck Im on about.
by Everett True in his blog on the Plan B website. He's referring to my show at the Freebutt, 11.2.06 with The Retro Spankees, Bobby McGees, Das Wanderlust and Larry Pickleman.

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It's a valid question, and one that we children of the future-focussed 70s often ask ourselves. That, and whatever happened to Maggie Philbin? Perversely, rather than being the techno hound you might expect from the title, Winston Echo could've recorded this debut pretty much at any time in the last 40 years: 4-track, one-man, half-minute scratchiness that peaks with "Imagine" Wasn't Actually That Good ("All the dead celebrities mean absolutely nothing to me.") As always with this kind of stuff, the key to the charm is the shortness and the tunes. Thirteen tracks shoot past in under the quarter hour and Winston stumbles across some nice melodies under the fuzz which makes this patchy but charming, and definitely worth a listen. But moves us no closer to that future.
review of "When Will We Commute Like The Jetsons Did?" by Jimmy Possession in the Robots With Electronic Brains fanzine.

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Next up is a 3" CD by Winston Echo which is winsome acoustic pop like a young and lively Television Personalities. Kind of all over the place but not with out the all important entertainment factor
review of "When Will We Commute Like The Jetsons Did?" from the Norman Records website