— Johnny Dee
It was in the spring of 1998 that I bought my first country music CD. Gram Parsons was a figure I had recently become familiar with and my curiosity was such that I decided to invest in a copy of GP/Grievous Angel, a two-fer of the singer's only solo albums. (Rather surprisingly, this budget compilation is a far more satisfying listen than the more comprehensive three disc set The Complete Reprise Sessions from 2006) Frequently described as country rock, it was clear that he was much more of the former than the latter. Much to my astonishment, I wasn't turned off. This wasn't cornball country nor was it over-emotive; it was genuine but it didn't go overboard in having to prove it. Maybe there's something to this country rubbish after all. Too bad I wasn't able to recognize this six or seven years earlier when I first had the chance.
The KLF seem very locked into 1991, especially in North America where they didn't factor into the charts a year earlier. '92 had only just gotten under way and they promptly retired while having their entire back catalog deleted so they very much made the most of being a flash in the pan. The only thing was, their first three singles all sounded pretty much the same, as though a hip house collective had decided to try their hand at stadium rock. It proved a popular formula: "What Time Is Love?" had got the ball rolling before everything erupted with the still-extraordinary "3 a.m. Eternal". The little I managed to hear of "Last Train to Transcentral" left me feeling underwhelmed: it was fine but hadn't we already heard this kind of thing before?
Bill Drummond and Jimmy Cauty seemed to split The KLF's duality down the middle for their end of year releases. "It's Grim Up North", credited to alter-ego The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu, is a total racket that is in dire need of a tune to go with it. Normally their hits are earworm friendly, going all the way back to 1988 Dr. Who-inspired chart topper "Doctoin' the Tardis" which they put out under the name of The Timelords, but "Grim" was an uncharacteristically ordinary work from them. Being on a creative and commercial roll, the single nevertheless nabbed a Top 10 spot though it would quickly fall off in order to make room for their shot at the Christmas Number One.
"Justified and Ancient" still retained that distinct KLF sound: there are those giant power chords, there's more than a little tribal chanting and associate Ricardo da Force goes on an extended rap in the bridge (since they "drive an ice cream van", I've always wondered if the late Ricardo Lyte's call to "make mine a 99" is in fact him placing an order for one of those lovely English soft ice creams with a flake bar sticking out of it; to think people bash British cusine, the chumps). Heavier elements are scaled back but what is most unexpected is the presence of country legend Tammy Wynette, along with some subtle slide guitar.
Cross-generational pop collaborations had been a thing for a while now. This space has already covered Aretha Franklin's duet with George Michael, the Pet Shop Boys bringing back Dusty Springfield from the brink of obscurity and that curious pairing of the Happy Mondays and that old bloke Karl Denver; the latter of these was also something of a cross-genre work as well, with the indie Mondays bringing in the country/Celtic folk yodelling of Denver. The big one in 1991 had been Natalie Cole's rendition of "Unforgettable" as a duet of sorts with her late father Nat King. The results weren't up to much but the sheer novelty of bringing back a legend from the dead ensured that it would be one of the biggest singles of the year. But with Wynette still very much alive, "Justified and Ancient" was able to be unique and far less creepy — and brilliant.
Irony had a role in this story as well. The Pet Shop Boys had recently released their controversial cover of "Where the Streets Have No Name (Can't Take My Eyes Off of You)", their homage to building up the power of U2's 1987 smash while tearing down their odious rock 'n' roll mythos (something, "ironically", Bono and co. were busy attempting to do themselves with their early nineties transformation). The last person pop kids would've expected to see fronting The KLF's latest record was an old country and western dame: we could have embraced it or we could've chosen to find the entire thing to be just a laugh. If I was to have guessed, I would have said that the majority of the pop stars I admired hated country music as much as I did. Far from appalling me, Drummond and Cauty managed to get away with it because they probably didn't mean it in the first place.
Happily, it didn't matter either way. "Justified and Ancient" transcended novelty pop becoming a magnificent work in its own right. Close-minded individuals might have dismissed "3 a.m. Eternal" as yet more "rap crap" but they couldn't just brush this one off. For a time it seemed like everyone had room for The KLF and Tammy Wynette in their lives. CBC radio, normally not accustomed to playing anything un-Canadian, much less a radical country-house track, put it on no doubt to bemuse middle-aged listeners. My folk music-loving parents kind of liked it. At school, everyone was into The KLF. Those self-righteous rap fans who always went on about it having a "message" (surely they must've known there was no message to be found in the music of Drummond and Cauty) loved them, for once putting me in agreement with a faction I normally had nothing to do with.
By Wynette giving an impassioned reading to a great song didn't get the pop kids to open their minds when it came to country music. We just couldn't get past our prejudices. It probably didn't help that in the spring of '92 the suddenly strength-to-strength Simpsons parodied country music in the season three classic "Colonel Homer". Original breakout star Bart spoke for us all when he proclaimed that "country music sucks", even if I was less keen on the radio shock jocks that supposedly "amuse us all" that he favoured. Then came "Achy Breaky Heart", the annoyingly catchy but still horrible hit single from Billy Ray Cyrus. Garth Brooks had been the biggest selling artist in North America at the time and he sucked too, especially to the ears of a late stage member of Generation X. In country, the chaff always stands out; as for the wheat, it's something one has to seek out. Either that or have The KLF serve it up on a silver platter.
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Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Simply Red: "Stars"
Of all the massive pop stars Mick Hucknall must be near the top in terms of those who are the most disliked. I'm sure the millions of records sold and hundreds — quite possibly thousands — of women bedded provides more than a little comfort but it surely must stick in his ginger craw that respect hasn't been as forthcoming. Honestly, he ought to try respecting himself more though. "Money's Too Tight (to Mention)" aside, Simply Red's many cover versions are dreadful while Mick's originals aren't too bad. "Stars" is one of his best. Giving up, at least for the moment, any hint that he is the legit heir to Al Green, early nineties Red became focused on recording some of the most well-crafted pop of the time. Emotional profundity be dammed, "Stars" is a rare belter that is impossible to dislike. As opposed to, say, Mick Hucknall.
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