Where's Me Jumper?

Perhaps it was fate when Sultans of Ping frontman Niall O’Flaherty, from Cork, had his jumper stolen at a Nottingham disco in the late 80s. “I’d been dancing around and suddenly thought ‘Where’s Me Jumper?’” said O’Flaherty. Soon afterwards, the hugely entertaining four-piece burst onto the scene with their ridiculously infectious watershed track called – you guessed it – ‘Where’s Me Poloneck?’ Sorry: ‘Where’s Me Jumper?’

It's a question that everyone in Ireland has asked themselves at some stage of their lives – usually in fear of the wrath of the legendary Irish mammy, if indeed the perennial item of sartorial ubiquity had been permanently mislaid. The song peaked at No.8 in the Irish charts, No.67 in the UK, and led to a UK tour and a Top 40 debut album Casual Sex In The Cineplex. Back on home turf, it became a particular disco favourite, the absurdity of its theme providing an excuse to jump around all the more like a band of lunatics.

The foothold the song took in the popular consciousness was reflected more recently, when it was chosen as the theme to the hugely successful TV series Moone Boy, starring Chris O’Dowd; and, laster, used in the Cork-based Irish comedy hit The Young Offenders. Thirty years on from the release of ‘Where’s Me Jumper?’, the marvellously inane life advice manically dispensed in the song adorns slogan t-shirts across the internet. Nobody, let alone the band, could have predicted the song’s impact, with O’Flaherty admitting that: “At first, the band refused to play the song because they thought it was a bit crap, but they’ve come round now.” And they are not the only ones.

The Story Behind The Song

The biggest county in Ireland, Cork has fashioned a reputation as the People's Republic of Cork – a southern territory that is somehow separate from the rest of the country. Under this imaginary banner, it forms a glorious bulwark against the dominance of both the political classes, and the smart-alecky jackeens, in Dublin. Or that, at least, is the humorous, cynic’s-eye view of it.

Rory Gallagher is the city’s greatest musical hero. Apart from his blistering guitar-playing and fine songwriting, he was renowned for his musical integrity and for never giving less than every ounce of energy in his live shows. But the city’s other leading contributions to rock ’n’ roll lore tended to be less straight-forward. Usually more mannered, and certainly quirkier, outfits – like Nun Attax (who became Five Go Down To The Sea), Micro Disney, and Stump – came from The Real Capital. They all made waves and secured international record deals, but ended up not quite fulfilling their potential.

When The Sultans of Ping first raised their heads above the pop parapet, it sounded like they were in the same contrarian line. And they were. Hot Press reviewer George Byrne witnessed The Sultans in live action in 1992. “Picture,” he instructed readers, “a collection of short, sharp, spiky pop treats with a decidedly askew lyrical perspective, delivered in an occasionally shambolic fashion but always with a demented grin.” And that was just the music. The band – fronted by Niall O’Flaherty – presented as a football-crazed four-piece of day-glo wearing pop punks in ballet dresses and Brighton and Hove Albion away jerseys. How they managed to sign with a real-life record label felt like a mystery – especially to the band themselves. But sign they did, and with one of the UK’s coolest dance labels of the day – Rhythm King (which was home of The Beatmasters and later, S’ Express, and training ground for Leftfield and Moby).

The label boss was Martin Heath, described by Sultans frontman Niall O’Flaherty as ‘an eccentric visionary’.

“Martin saw us at Cork Rocks and virtually signed us on the spot. We, of course, agreed because we basically felt that we couldn’t get a deal to save our lives,” O’Flaherty told Hot Press in 1992.

Despite the heavyweight endorsement of Heath, the fact that the band seemed to be having more fun than people thought they were entitled to, led to mutterings that they weren’t a ‘serious’ band. They had met at school and – influenced by Cork’s burgeoning indie scene – started with a gig in the school hall.

“When Martin Heath told people he’d signed us they thought he was f**king mad,” admitted O’Flaherty in the early 90s. “They all thought ‘Funny clothes…people doing daft things’, therefore it must be comedy or cabaret… a laugh band.” But, as Madness had already proved, having fun and being taken seriously as chart contenders were not mutually exclusive. “Madness wrote great pop songs and still came across as having a brilliant time, and that’s the kind of thing we aspire to,” the singer added.

And what a brilliant time they had. To see this wonderfully anarchic band live was to wander into a malfunctioning wonderland: football jerseys were mandatory attire for punters, though not (ideally) from popular clubs like Celtic, Liverpool, Manchester United, Arsenal – or indeed Ireland. Those were considered what today’s Gen Z would term ‘basic’. Nottingham Forest, Wigan or Partick Thistle, on the other hand, were game ball. During the slow songs, meanwhile, fans would lie down on the floor and wiggle a right leg in the air.

Lead singer Niall O'Flaherty lies down (and wiggles) for Ireland

Lead singer Niall O'Flaherty lies down (and wiggles) for Ireland

“The lying on the floor bit came about as an accident,” guitarist Pat O’Connor told Hot Press. “We were doing a gig in a place called Roxanne’s and things were getting a bit out of hand. People were going mad down the front so the bouncers freaked, grabbed a mike and told people to sit down. So, they lay down on the floor and when we started to play a slow song about a sheepdog with a broken leg they started wiggling their legs in the air. Now they do it for every slow song and it’s kind of become the thing to do in Cork… we’ve even had people doing it in London.”

The anarchic surrealism notwithstanding, the band worked hard. Under the tutelage of the late Steve Lovell – producer of Blur, Julian Cope and A House – O’Flaherty’s lyrics were coaxed out. They tightened their shambolic recording style as a result of an indie bootcamp, playing 60 gigs in three months. As they blossomed into fully-fledged rockstars, they maintained both their fire and their innate maverick streak.

“They were very raw, but they played well together and, from playing a lot of live gigs, were tighter than a lot of young and less experienced bands.” Lovell recalled of the Casual Sex… sessions. “They were also up for learning and okay to go through the process often required in the studio of going over and over sections until it felt right.

“Niall was so charismatic,” he added, “and very funny and on occasions a complete pain in the arse. He was head-to-toe a star.”

The band had put Cork on the map once again as a hotbed of colourful crackpots, with The Frank and Walters also emerging from the city around the same time.

‘Where’s Me Jumper’ was released in January 1992. It was also the final track on the band’s critically acclaimed debut album Casual Sex In The Cineplex, released in February 1993. ‘Where’s Me Jumper?’ was a big hit in Ireland, reaching No.8 in the charts, less so in the UK, where it peaked at No.67. Propelled by the single, the album was a UK Top 30 hit, reaching No.26.

However, those figures belie the full extent of the impact of ‘Where’s Me Jumper?’. The song gave voice to a pervasive teenage paranoia, asking a question that virtually everyone in Ireland had asked themselves at some stage of their lives, as they attempted to collect their belongings at the end of a raucous night, before heading home. The brilliantly farcical domestic aspect of the lyrics was given an even more pointedly absurd twist, set against the band’s punky attitude and extravagantly flamboyant style. It was a huge hit in discos (the setting for the traumatic loss of the original woolly yoke), with the crowds shouting along to it with gusto and doing all the required facial tics and poses.

The demented hold the song took in the popular consciousness has retained its power. People may not sing ‘Where’s Me Jumper?’ at house parties – it is hardly that kind of song – but everyone knows it as a catchphrase. Which is just one of the reasons why ‘Where’s Me Jumper’ was chosen as the theme song for the hugely successful Sky One series Moone Boy, written by and starring Irish actor Chris O’Dowd, which ran from 2012-2015. It was also the closing song in the Cork-based Irish comedy hit The Young Offenders, written by Peter Foott, which won both IFTA and BAFTA Awards in 2018. The Sultans of Ping also wrote 'Give Him A Ball and a Yard of Grass’, which is the theme song for the popular, long-running Newstalk sports programme, Off The Ball.

The original success of ‘Where’s Me Jumper' was a thrilling moment in Irish music history and one revisited with the 2018 re-release of ‘Casual Sex In The Cineplex’ , to mark the album’s 25th anniversary – introducing a whole new audience of music-lovers to these immortal words to live by:

“Eat natural foods, bathe twice daily
Fill your nostrils up with gravy.
Don't drink tea and don't drink coffee
Cover your chin in Yorkshire toffee.”

Dr. Niall O’Flaherty now lectures on the History of European Political Thought in King’s College, London, where he did his PhD.