Manchester has yet to erect a structure that hometown boys Courteeners cannot sell out. But tonight, a stadium band is squeezed into the narrowest of venues. At a heaving Night & Day cafe, disbelieving fans snap photos of their entry wristbands to a rare intimate show in honour of a new greatest hits collection. “Twenty years,” marvels frontman Liam Fray, contemplating his band’s lifespan. “You don’t get rid of us that easily.” For most of the audience there has barely been a Manchester without them.
Charlotte, 18, has seen Courteeners at their enormous Heaton Park shows. “All my friends like them,” she says. Greater Manchester mayor Andy Burnham tells me he became a fan through his son. Paul, 56, has seen them more than 100 times. “There’s not many actual bands any more,” he says, which seems key to their appeal.
