— Sian Pattenden
In my recent post about Michael Hutchence's side project Max Q, I hinted at a lull in the music scene the autumn of 1989. I was focused on a distinct lack of dynamic stars on the cover of Smash Hits, particularly in an environment dominated by Jive Bunny and Black Box, but the pop scene in general seemed to be going through a rough patch in general at around this time. I was by then back in Canada where there hadn't been the same penetration of music as in the UK. My favourite songs were The Cure's "Love Song", Madonna's "Cherish" and Tears for Fears' "Sowing the Seeds of Love" and at some point it occurred to me that there wasn't much out there to replace them.
That was in Canada but Britain had to be different, surely. Jive Bunny's "Swing the Mood" had only been in the charts for a couple weeks before I left and so I never had the chance to get sick of it and realise that it was crap; the British didn't seem to tire of it and it remained on the Top 40 as follow-up "That's What I Like" was topping the charts. (Indeed, it managed to hang around long enough to to be there to welcome the horrible Christmas-themed "Let's Party" for its less extended run, giving these so-called Mastermixers a sustained chart presence for over five months...bloody hell, Britain) "Ride on Time" was a much better record than any of Jive Bunny's nonsense but did it really deserve to sit at the top for six whole weeks, the longest chart reign in over five years?
This fortnight's singles does little to address the lack of quality in the pop charts. Most of the records reviewed by Sian Pattenden are poor or indifferent and the vast majority didn't exactly set the hit parade ablaze that autumn. Just two ended up being big hits — Lisa Stansfield's number one smash "All Around the World" (itself an indication of how low the charts had sunken: her previous singles "People Hold On" and "The Right Time" didn't do nearly as well despite being significantly better songs) and the Top 5 smash "Street Tuff" by Rebel MC & Double Trouble — with just four more getting into the Top 40 — and only just barely for two of them. The rest is a veritable flop parade and lowest of all is Barry White's "Follow That and See (There It Leads Y'All)" which failed to chart at all.
With the possible exception of Billy Idol and his four Singles of the Fortnight (yes, there's still one more to come), there probably isn't another artist I am surprised to be covering on this blog more than Barry White. I already blogged about him last year when he released an ultimately doomed attempt at a Christmas number one and now he's back (BACK!!) with a new recording to see if he can recapture the public's imagination. He didn't but not for lack of trying.
While the likes of Marvin Gaye, Curtis Mayfield and Stevie Wonder were recording socially conscientious pop and R&B in the early seventies, White was fashioning himself into a baritone-voiced lathario, one who didn't seem particularly interested in civil rights, the generation gap, Nixon, pollution, urban strife or war. Gaye himself would quickly move back to the bedroom with Let's Get It On and I Want You (before ending up in the divorce courts on Here, My Dear) but he had been part of the zeitgeist with 1971's What's Going On and this massively important and successful album remained a firm part of his reputation long after its issues ceased to matter as much to him. Not so with White and while he may have been capable of his own What's Going On or Innervisions or Superfly, he never indicated that he had any desire to do so.
But something changed over the years and his re-emergence at the end of the eighties brought about some a new approach. The biggest change was musically. The contemporary production on album The Man Is Back! is tasteful for the most part but his voice is missing something without a string section to back him up. Indeed, he isn't being backed up so much as drowned out on "Follow That and See (Where It Leads Y'All)". (I didn't know it was possible for such a powerful vocalist to get beaten down by production no matter how big it is) James Brown's output from around the same time leaves a lot to be desired but he would never have let his voice be anything but front and centre.
If the song doesn't work in the confines of an eighties recording studio then at least there's White to give it the charm it needs. It's a lot more hectoring than anything Gaye and Mayfield and Wonder ever did and it's a point in its favour. White had more than a little of the preacher in him and it really comes out in this paean to world unity and understanding. This is no doubt bolstered by the sight of him standing at a pulpit in the accompanying video. He seldom tackled heavy issues in his recordings but this track only makes the listener wish he had done so more often — especially back when he was at his peak.
In my previous piece about White, I mentioned that it's easy to guess what his songs sound like before you've even heard them. This isn't the case here which is a shame. What White did was limited in scope but at least he did it better than anyone else. It was noble that he wanted to have his say as far as the fate of humanity and the world was concerned but he should've brought it into the sound he was best known for. "Follow That and See" proved he had a great socially conscious pop/R&B album in him but by 1989 it was too little too late.
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Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Fuzzbox: "Walking on Thin Ice"
Having a laugh seemed to be what the girls from Fuzzbox were all about. As punks they refused to take anything seriously and this approach carried over when they abruptly went pop in 1989. Boys fancied them, girls looked up to them and we all thought they were brilliant. It couldn't last but they could've continued for at least another year before things fell apart. Third pop era single "Self" kind of sucked and their cover of Yoko Ono's "Walking on Thin Ice" is no better — and by this point interest in them began to wane. The icy production, glorious disco beat and John Lennon's searing guitar are nowhere to be found here and it doesn't even sound like they're trying. A B52's cover would have been more suitable (they were influenced by Yoko, you know) or, better yet, one of their addictive anthems about rescue missions or pink sunshines. That's why we all loved Fuzzbox, even if the midriffs were nice too.
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