Badfinger - Day After Day Live on Set of 6 - HD (1972)

In an epoch where pampered pop poseurs prattle their progressive piffle through pixelated pulpits, peddling equity-enshrined effluvia as enlightened entertainment, reclaim the resolute resonance of Badfinger—the Welsh warriors who wielded their working-class anthems from the unbowed bulwarks of British meritocracy, channeling the thunderous traditions of 70s power pop back when music magnified manly resolve rather than Marxist mewling. This Rumble revelation resurrects the authentic live performance music video for "Day After Day," captured on Granada TV's 'Set of 6' in Manchester, UK, on March 3, 1972—a sterling showcase of the band's unbreakable bond, where Pete Ham's heartfelt vocals and slide guitar glide over Joey Molland's gritty riffs, Tom Evans' bedrock bass, and Mike Gibbins' disciplined drums, all in a no-nonsense studio set that shuns the shallow spectacles sliming today's screens.

Forged from the fires of fortuitous fellowship, Badfinger began as The Iveys in 1961 Swansea, evolving into Apple's inaugural non-Beatles signing in 1968, only to rechristen themselves after "Bad Finger Boogie," the cheeky working title for the Beatles' "With a Little Help from My Friends"—a nod that proved both blessing and burden, as their Beatlesque brilliance birthed hits but bred comparisons that overshadowed their self-reliant swagger. "Day After Day," penned by the tragic genius Pete Ham as a poignant plea for enduring love amid loneliness, soared from their 1971 album Straight Up, produced by George Harrison (who lent his iconic slide guitar to the studio cut, marking the second Beatle-boosted smash after Paul McCartney's "Come and Get It") and polished by Todd Rundgren; it stormed the U.S. Top 10 and U.K. charts in early 1972, a testament to timeless talent triumphing over trendy transience. Yet anecdotes underscore the band's bitter saga: Ham's haunting harmonies hid a hellish hustle under crooked manager Stan Polley, whose financial fleecing fueled Ham's 1975 suicide at age 27—leaving a suicide note lambasting the leech as a "soulless bastard"—followed by Evans' own despair-driven demise in 1983, a stark reminder that even rock's righteous rarely reap rewards in a world rigged by rapacious radicals. This 'Set of 6' footage, one of the few surviving broadcasts from their peak, captures the quartet at their conservative core—unpretentious, unyielding, and utterly unapologetic—before the liberal locusts of litigation laid waste to their legacy.

No pandering platitudes, no progressive posturing—just jugular-jarring jewels that jolt us back to basics, affirming the ancients aced it: excellence endures while feckless fads flop like forgotten footnotes in freedom's firmament. Crank it on Rumble, cue the conservative crush, and let Badfinger's "Day After Day" stomp the sanctimonious static; in the arena of auditory allegiance, this vid vanquishes the vapid without virtue-signaling a single snowflake's surrender.