— William Shaw
Vanilla Ice. The Little Mermaid. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Gazza. Prince struggling with (gasp!) trying to be original. Old indie faves doing more bangwagoning. Younger acts going through the motions. No bloody wonder William Shaw is so taken by some good old soul music this fortnight. Low on flash but about as far from novelty pop as one could hope to get.
Oleta Adams is one of those struggled-until-most-of-us-would've-given-up stories that pop is surprisingly low on. It has long been said that rock is a young man's game, even though such a concept is now laughably out-of-date. She was already pushing thirty when she released her debut album which only received attention around Kansas City where she had been based. Her income came playing clubs in her adopted hometown. One night she was performing at the Peppercorn Duck Club at KC's Hyatt Hotel before an audience that included Roland Orzbal and Curt Smith of Tears for Fears. The rest would've have been history but success wouldn't arrive for another four years.
Ver Fears returned in 1989 with "Sowing the Seeds of Love", a song that owed at least as much to XTC's offshoot project The Dukes of Stratosphear than it did to The Beatles. While some pretended to feign indifference, it was and remains a splendid single, every bit as good as "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" or the now more ballyhooed "Mad World". The Seeds of Love album was strong but it didn't have anything that could follow its flagship record. Yet, the duo had a hidden gem that the world needed to acquaint itself with.
"Woman in Chains" was the group's second single from The Seeds of Love. Orzbal and Smith had their difficulties during the album's recording sessions and Smith looks like a disinterested sessioner in the song's accompanying video. Seemingly much more a part of the group is singer Oleta Adams, there to make an accomplished but moody tune that much more accomplished and moodier. It only did modestly on the charts compared with its predecessor but the guest had nevertheless turned in a star-making performance. She was promptly signed up by Tears for Fears' label Fontana.
Somehow or other solo success would continue to elude her. As William Shaw notes, this is a second crack at the Top 40 for "Rhythm of Life". (It would eventually make a belated appearance on the UK charts, albeit only just, at the end of 1995) While it did deserve to be "ginormous" (or least "gi-medium-ish"), I can understand why the public took a pass — and, indeed, passed on it again. Her vocal chops are outstanding but the production and arrangement are understated. Its four-and-a-half minutes could glide by with potential listeners scarcely noticing. I've been playing it on a regular basis this past week and sometimes I barely notice much beyond that fabulous Adams voice. Some tunes get stuck in your head the first time you play them but this isn't one of them.
Orzbal co-wrote and co-produced it but his stamp isn't apparent. I suppose this is noble of him since he doesn't steal the spotlight from the singer. He pops up in the video but only briefly, not quite cutting the figure that Adams had in the "Woman in Chains" promo. If you weren't aware of his involvement, you'd never guess from the results.
As a vehicle for her astonishing voice "Rhythm of Life" works very well but as an overall pop song it is merely quite good. Superior to any of the detritus Shaw was tasked with evaluating but not nearly as magnificent as "Woman in Chains" or the song that would break her all over the world. The hit she had with Tears for Fears was slow and grand and that was just the sort of thing she needed to give her a smash of her own. "Get Here" proved the perfect choice. A stately slow song, Adams' delivery is perfect as she refrains from using the sort of vocal gymnastics that were becoming popular at the time with the likes of Mariah Carey, Celine Dion and Whitney Houston. You could ignore "Rhythm of Life" but there was no ignoring the follow-up. So very ginormous.
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Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Gazza & Lindisfarne: "Fog on the Tyne"
The tears hadn't yet dried from his penalty kick failure at the World Cup and already everyone must have known that Paul Gascoigne was going to translate his sorrow into pop stardom. What I didn't guess correctly was who he'd be working with. Ailing in terms of potential new recruits, Stock Aitken Waterman seemed the logical place for Gazza to have ended up. Instead, he opted to collaborate with Lindisfarne (a band with a name that could only have played (a) metal, (b) folk or (c) worse yet, a mix of the two) who hailed from his native Newcastle. (Oh why didn't he go with Prefab Sprout instead?) A celebration of the northern city, his nibs does the predictable thing by knocking "London town". He was aware that he was still under contract to Tottenham at the time? "They'll spur you out..." may or not have been a a dig at his current side, their perpetual underachievement and their fickle fanbase. All would be forgiven, however, had his pop record been any good but it was anything but. Gazza can't rap, can't sing and his Lindisfarne chums contribute almost nothing. Jimmy Nail has never been this wan.
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