— Graeme Kay
It was 1986. A moderately famous hip hop trio had been working on their third album since the end of the previous year with a producer who could see beyond genres and race. Rick Rubin would eventually become renowned for reviving the careers of washed up rock and country stars but by this point he was still all about promoting metal, punk and rap. Fusing them was still a rarity and there was no guarantee that even if the finished product of fused hip hop and rock worked in the studio that anyone would go out and buy it. Run-DMC's first attempt was risky but it turned out to be a hit around the world. "Walk This Way" is still their best known number — and one that would return Aerosmith to pop music relevance. (Indeed, it's likely that the single did more for their careers than it did for Run-DMC)
That same summer, another old pop group came back but it didn't result in a return to the charts. The Monkees had been a popular sit com in the late-sixties and it got picked up by cable TV music channels MTV and Canada's MuchMusic for its twentieth anniversary. While the likes of "Last Train to Clarksville", "I'm a Believer" and "Pleasant Valley Sunday" were huge hits that accompanied the show, this time the music was much more of an afterthought. The show was still funny and that was all that mattered. A Michael Nesmith-free Monkees attempted to cash in on the notoriety by releasing a new album the following year but no one cared. Similarly, an updated New Monkees series was developed but it was quickly cancelled. All people in the eighties wanted from the prefab four was for them to be a bunch of goofs in their surprisingly timeless show with songs that ranged from decent to forgettable. They weren't a real group then so why would anyone treat them any differently now? Still, a Monkees musical revival was coming and some were already paying attention.
Jump ahead to the summer of 1988 and the two have come together. "Mary, Mary" was by a then unknown Michael Nesmith and originally recorded by The Paul Butterfield Blues Band before its composer offered it for his new band The Monkees on their 1967 second album More of the Monkees. While the tune is pretty good, neither of these recordings are up to much. Butterfield's is just your bog standard gut bucket blues which is fine if you like that sort of thing while The Monkees' version is tame and inoffensive garage rock and Mickey Dolenz's bland delivery does it no favours. (In fairness, I don't think Nesmith, Davy Jones or the underutilized Peter Tork would've done any better)
How "Mary, Mary" found its way to the members of Run-DMC is anybody's guess but the show being back on the air couldn't have hurt. While people might assume it's a sequel to "Walk This Way", the two aren't as similar as one might expect. First, Aerosmith's original had already been a hit single while The Monkees had tucked "Mary, Mary" away on their second album. If they had wanted to steal the thunder of a silly old sit com and the manufactured band that grew out of it, they could have used that simple riff from "Last Train to Clarksville" or the dinky little piano from "Daydream Believer" rather than a song that hardly anyone remembered. Yet, they chose well: here was an oldie with untapped potential and in serious need of a hardcore kick.
The other main difference is the use of samples. Run-DMCs first three albums had been relatively clean affairs with guest musicians (people often forget that Aerosmith's Steven Tyler and Joe Perry rerecorded their vocal and guitar parts for "Walk This Way") but 1987 had been all about sample-heavy hits like M|A|R|R|S' "Pump Up the Volume" and Erik B & Rakim's "I Know You Got Soul". Why pay sessioners for their time when you can "borrow" a bassline or drum pattern and pay nothing for it? Nesmith doesn't return to play on it and Dolenz's voice barely registers. All you've got instead is an excellent tune for the NYC trio to do their "thing".
Ultimately, this is the first version that justifies Nesmith's song. "(I'm Not Your) Stepping Stone" had affirmed their cred when the post-Lydon version of the Sex Pistols covered it and this is much the same only far better. Still credited solely to the heir of the Liquid Paper millions, Run and DMC wrote some strong verses that they deliver with their usual hard-hitting raps and Jam Master Jay scratches up a storm. The sound isn't as full as on "Walk This Way" but "Mary, Mary" is the superior record. Aerosmith stole the show the last time but it's all Run-DMC here.
This same issue of Smash Hits also includes an album review of one of 1988's most seminal releases. It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back was Public Enemy's second album and is generally regarded as their finest work. I like lots of it but there's filler too and reviewer Tom Doyle seems genuinely worn out with it. Though he concludes by stating that it's "very entertaining", it's obviously that this brand of rap is heavy going. (Public Enemy had a "message", you know) Graeme Kay expresses boredom of overly boastful hip hop but this kind of serious, weighty rap could grate just as much. Meanwhile, Run-DMC began to slip through the cracks and it would be several months before a lighter approach to hip hop began appear. Rap rock would return with Bootsauce, Living Color and Urban Dance Squad in the early nineties but they were never like the originals.
As if sensing changes in the hip hop air, the promo for "Mary, Mary" features a group of conservative women protesting at a Run-DMC concert. This is still at least a year out from the 2 Live Crew controversy and the subsequent not-at-all-racist decision to paste those stupid 'PARENTAL ADVISORY' labels on every rap album but a backlash to the hip hop revolution was coming. The video humourously sends up these reactionaries but suggests that rap was soon to leave its innocence behind. Run-DMC could hide behind The Monkees but their contemporaries weren't so lucky.
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Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Jane Wiedlin: "Rush Hour"
I was staying with my grandparents during the very warm Canadian summer of 1988 when I noticed the music video for "Rush Hour". There were dolphins swimming all over the place and a pretty, fun-sized woman singing along and playing the guitar. She even got to swim along with the dolphins for a bit. The video was good but I loved the song. A little over a month later I was in England with my family. Everything was different. Cars drove on the other side of the road, the food tasted funny, I had no idea how to answer the question "how do you do?" and cans of Coke had to be opened by pulling on a sticker tab. (I would eventually grow into the annoying adult who finds differences to be cute and funny but, mercifully, I was still a ways away from that) Nothing familiar. Then, we visited Canterbury and Dover just prior to the school year starting and I heard "Rush Hour" playing in a shop. It was nice that something had come over the Atlantic with us, especially when it's a fantastic piece of California sunshine pop-rock that's impossible to dislike. And who knows, maybe there would be some more music for me to enjoy.
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