It was hard to know what to make of XTC; they were certainly unlike any other band of the punk era – and still sound unique today.

I first saw them at the Rochester Castle in Stoke Newington (now my local ‘Spoons) in the summer of 1977. They were oddballs in the pantheon of punk, with their jerky, frenetic rhythms, yelping vocals and prominent keyboards.

Looking at this promo, they certainly had the anger and aggression of a punk group, exhibited in the way Andy Partridge slashed at his guitar and, especially, the way Barry Andrews attacked his keyboard with wild abandon to produce cheap 1950s sci-fi sounds that perfectly suited the band – and this song.

XTC had started out in the mid-Seventies as a quintet called The Helium Kidz but had to let their original singer, Steve Hutchings, go on account of his habit of unzipping his boilersuit onstage to reveal his pubic hair.

He had believed that it would attract both girls and record company scouts to sign the band. It didn’t – and they sacked him in June 1976.

He was followed six months later by the original keyboard player, Jon Perkins, who was replaced when they spotted an ad (“Keyboard player seeks band”) posted by a bright, balding 20-year-old cabaret organist called Barry Andrews.

Appearing regularly on the punk circuit in early 1977, they turned down CBS, Harvest and Island Records to sign with Virgin on a weekly wage of £25 each, recording three songs – including this one – with producer John Leckie for their debut 3D EP.

Channelling all their favourite music – The Beatles, Sun Ra, Atomic Rooster and much more – their debut album White Music was something that Partridge later described as “Captain Beefheart meets The Archies.”