— Dave Rimmer
Bands are seldom static. Members come and go for a whole variety of reasons. Yet, there's this unwritten, unspoken understanding that they should retain the essential elements of a group. There ought to be a lead singer who may or may not play an instrument at the same time as well as your standard guitarist-bassist-drummer dynamic with a keyboardist being an optional extra. This is the basis for a pop-rock group.
In the seventies, however, some bands ended up reduced in size, usually as a result of an authoritative leader who'd rather play a multitude of instruments themselves or hire session players in order to keep stress to a minimum. Groups such as the Bee Gees, Sparks, Steely Dan and Wings at all started off as quintets only to see membership dwindle and, crucially, not be replaced.
This trend would continue into the eighties with powerful duos typically ending up with the balance of power while their rhythm sections ended up getting pushed out of the way. The Associates presented themselves as a five-piece but it was the partnership of Billy McKenzie and Alan Rankine that called the shots and was in effect the band itself. The same thing happened to OMD. Simple Minds experienced a gradual cull over the course of the decade until it began to seem like Jim Kerr was the only one left. XTC (see below) quit touring only for drummer Terry Chambers to depart at which point they became a trio that spent their remaining twenty years relying on a revolving door of percussionists as well as a spell with a drum machine backing them.
China Crisis had been built very much on these lines. The partnership of Garry Daly and Eddie Lundon had been established for some time when, only just exiting their teens, they began putting out records. Steely Dan had been their biggest inspiration (the admiration must have been mutual since the late Walter Becker would play synths on their 1985 album Flaunt the Imperfection) which no doubt motivated them to spurn playing live. Daly and Lundon would soon relax their aversion to concerts which is where having a permanent drummer in one Dave Reilly would come in handy.
Trevor Horn is one of those significant musical figures who was never as inescapable as we might now assume. He was part of Buggles whose megahit "Video Killed the Radio Star" is chiefly remembered for a chorus is easily its weakest link. He was also there at the tail end of Yes as the once formidable yet typically impenetrable progressive rockers were attempting to pull a Genesis by suddenly becoming an eighties' middle aged pop group. And he produced The Lexicon of Love, a masterclass of lush dance-pop which is frequently cited as one of the albums of the decade. Not such a bad resume all told.
More would come in the future (Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Seal, the last Belle & Sebastian album that anyone needs to bother with but why do I always forget about the Art of Noise? Oh because they were critically acclaimed but no fun whatsoever to listen to? Yeah, that tracks) but was he really one of those midas touch types? No, he wasn't. The guy worked with Dollar for god's sake. Plus, he had nothing to do with China Crisis and look what they accomplished even at this early stage and with a single that they have subsequently (and wrongly) disowned.
You know what else Horn had nothing to do with? Avalon by Roxy Music, that's what. The chugging guitar in "Scream Down at Me" sounds like it had been cribbed from deep cut "The Space Between" from Roxy's final album. The thing is, it wasn't out at this point and wouldn't be reviewed by Smash Hits until a fortnight later in the following issue. Could Daly and Lundon have been granted a sneak peak at the latest release from one of Britain's biggest acts? (Doubtful) Could the thirtysomething Bryan Ferry have had his finger on the pulse so acutely that he was aware of an obscure new wave act from just outside of Liverpool whose sound he just had to mimic? (This is even less likely) Or could this funk-driven sound have been in the air and it was affecting the famous and the obscure alike? (Yeah, that's it)
China Crisis would eventually become popular enough to rack up four Top 20 hits but they scarcely sound like the same band that put out early-eighties gems like "Scream Down at Me" and "African and White". Complaining to Chris Heath in ver Hits in the middle of '85 that everyone bashes them for being "wet" and/or "wimpy", they could've done worse in looking for inspiration had they delved into their back catalog for some tougher material. No, they were never balls out rockers but "Scream Down" is powerful and invigorating. This is what being a proper band with a drummer who isn't simply guesting will do.
Yet, the evidence suggests that they were perfectly happy being "wet and wimpy" while leaving this harder stuff to the dustbin. While "African and White" always had a place in their repertroire, "Scream Down at Me" has been effectively written out of their history. It was left off of their debut album Difficult Shapes & Passive Rhythms, Some People Think It's Fun to Entertain, released near the end of 1982, and didn't appear on China Crisis compilation until the two disc set Ultimate Crisis, a collection that the pair likely had little involvement in.
The synth-pop duo dynamic arguably began with bands being reduced to their core. It became so commonplace that it led to groups with only a passing use of synths got shoehorned into a subgenre they otherwise had little to do with. Were The Associates ever synth-pop? Were China Crisis? ("You can't be a synthesizer duo with only one synthesizer!" exclaimed Daly to Neil Tennant, who would later have a something to do with synths himself) But what they all shared were pairings that called the shots. Other members could be disposed of. It worked for Steely Dan, Sparks and Eurythmics. Pet Shop Boys were thoughtful enough not to bother having anyone else join them only to eventually be spurned. Too bad it didn't quite work for China Crisis since "Scream Down at Me" buries their future hit singles.
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Also Reviewed This Fortnight
XTC: "No Thugs in Our House"
I'm going through another phase of listening to almost nothing but XTC at the moment so I might as well discuss this single, Rimmer's winner of the 'Silly Packaging of the Week Award'. In a move only the Swindon foursome could have pulled off, they had managed to nab defeat out of the jaws of victory and they were now paying the price for it, hence the silly packaging since why else was anyone going to buy the damn thing. They could have been bold and put out either "Yacht Dance" or "Jason and the Argonauts" as a third single from the English Settlement album but they went instead with "Respectable Street" "No Thugs in Our House". It must have seemed like a good idea to have a rockin' stormer that harked back to their brilliant Black Sea album but this wasn't what they were about anymore. Except for the fact that it does indeed go on a bit, as Dave Rimmer points out; Andy Partridge was becoming something of an expert at hammering the point home which wasn't one of his better qualities.
(Click here to see my original review)
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