360
Photograph (above & below) by Andrew Simpson
From a small tent in Birmingham, the Lydon Brothers tell Pascoe Sabido about Glastonbury, being compared to UB40,
and why 360—their eight-piece ska-funk-punk-reggae band—are finally being recognised.
In a large damp park in South-West
Birmingham, two grown men watch
over a pink bouncy castle as children
run amock within. CoCoMad is throwing
its annual family-oriented festival in
Cotteridge Park and Ross and Scott Lydon
are not just there to play uncle and father:
the brothers, aged 27 and 31, are part of
360, an eight-piece funk-ska-reggae band
from Birmingham that will be headlining
the celebration. Despite just returning
from Glastonbury, the band aren’t fussed
to be playing in a purple porta-stage,
instead seeing it as another small step on
a journey that has so far taken eight years.
The remarkable thing is that as a group,
they’ve only grown stronger, building on
foundations of solid friendship and constant
banter. They’ve been around the block a few
times but it’s not wasted on the Lydons:
Ross is the first to admit: “We’re not kids, we
feel like we’ve learnt a bit whilst ‘doing it’;
we’ve spent years learning what the industry
is — it’s nothing magical.” Playing live is the
band’s forte, whipping up audiences and
spreading excitement through a crowd.
Although they have been performing for
some years, a reformed attitude and a kick
up the arse from their new manager have
the boys finally heading on the right track.
The two brothers form the core of the band,
and it was their joint musical upbringing
that spawned 360. Scott, on bass guitar,
began with organ lessons — “Mum used
to make me play in the old folks’ home” —
while Ross, lead vocals and rhythm guitar,
was fortunate enough to be a natural:
“If he wanted, he could just pick it up —
drums, trumpet, anything,” says Scott. It
was Ross’s band that, after graduating in
fine art and illustration from Southampton
University, Scott joined, but it was the new
direction and injection of fresh talent that
turned it around: Del was brought in on
the trumpet while Ian moved from bass to
saxophone — his first true love. Darren,
their dedicated keyboard player, and
Ross, the musical brains behind the band,
sadly bid farewell to ‘Inertia’ (the band’s
former indie incarnation) and embraced the
changes. Another saxophonist, Peter, later
joined to beef up the brass section; Paul, a
second guitarist and the youngest member
at 24, joined recently following a boozy jam-
session at Glastonbury.
The position of drummer holds its own
enigma: “We’ve had every style of drummer
there is,” claims Ross. “Someone who’s
taught themselves, a professional drummer,
someone who’s half-way; and now we’re
back to Toby.” “It’s drummers, man, they’re
mysterious people!” Scott exclaims. “If you
speak to most bands, they’d say the same.”
Aside from the numerous drummers, no-one
has left the band. As a result the group are
very close, and any rehearsal or performance
is full of banter: when Del innocently asks
Ross what he’s been doing, “Your Mum,” is
thrown back, but the feigned shock on Del’s
face is a well-rehearsed routine. Over the
years, Del has willingly adopted the role of
pantomime victim, and any cheap insult is
cause for lengthy lament in his thick Brummy
accent.
Comparisons have been made with UB40 and
the Specials, although Heart FM once likened
them to The Mavericks: “I think he meant
Madness and got the wrong band,” clarifies
Ross. The UB40 comparison goes down well
because they are a fellow Brummy band with
a similar story, but according to Ross, their