The Human League: "Love Action (I Believe in Love)"

6 August 1981

"Soul music made in Sheffield."

— David Hepworth

They spent a long time try to have a hit. Then they had one. Now it was only a matter of having several hundred more.

Needless to say, The Human League are remembered for "Don't You Want Me". It was a song they didn't think much of and objected to record label Virgin issuing it as a single at the end of 1981. Three hits from their Dare album was sufficient (if only they knew what Michael Jackson was about to do a year later as he went about reinventing the concept of scraping the bottom of the barrel). Such a mediocre work had no business coming out as a 7" in its own right — one that was bound to undermine all that they had accomplished during their extraordinary first big year.

Of course, nothing of the sort happened. Everyone beyond the six members of ver League loved "Don't You Want Me". It became the highest selling single in the UK that year and it did similarly healthy business in Europe and, a few months' later, in North America. As I already said above, it is their legacy. Eighties retro nights wouldn't exist without it. Going from 'ironic love of the eighties' to 'genuine love of the eighties' begins here.

And yet, none of this would have happened had everything worked out as it did. 1980 ended with the first iteration of The Human League in a shambles. Founding members and "serious" musicians Ian Craig Marsh and Martyn Ware departed and the prospects of the depleted duo of singer Philip Oakey (recruited because he was a well-known Sheffield scenester, even though he had next to no musical experience) and 'director of visuals' Adrian Wright (there's a reason not many film makers join bands) were understandably low. Under these conditions, the League's unlucky Top 40-less streak didn't seem to have much of a chance of ending. If they were going to somehow score a fluke hit it would've been bound to be with a mainstream pop sellout.

But that didn't happen either. As I have previously written in this space, comeback single "The Sound of the Crowd" was a work that could've been recorded by their earlier lineup. The Top 20 placing was impressive enough but Oakey and Wright managed to pull it off with a brilliant single that didn't bow to pop trends. And as if out to prove that they didn't just have luck on their side, they promptly went to work on arguably their finest single.

It may not be as well-remembered now but "Love Action" is an absolute delight from start to finish. And everyone knew it at the time. David Hepworth praises its "splendidly loping chorus and staccato synth fill" as well as Oakey's "distinctive baritone". (Sterling stuff indeed, Heps) Meanwhile, Record Mirror's Sunie named its 12" mashup of it and b-side "Hard Times" as that week's Megahit, describing the ten minute reworking as "tasteful, tuneful, witty and danceable, and you can't ask for much more than that from a single". The NME even named it the year's fifth best single.

The great tune and Oakey's outstanding performance could easily be enough but there are plenty of nods to their avant-garde past. The synths are as experimental as ever with new recruit Jo Callis using his guitar to create an electronic sound that is unique and extraordinary. Oakey tries his hand at something close to a rap ("I believe, I believe...") that I cannot manage to keep up with as I try to sing along. He even makes very subtle references to both Iggy Pop (the unforgettable "But this is Phil talking" line is nicked from the former Stooge) and, cryptically, Lou Reed (I'll take his word for it that the 'old man' from "I believe what the old man said..." is meant to be the godfather of punk). You don't do all this in a throwaway pop song.

Thus, The Human League were stronger than ever. "Love Action" became their first of several Top 10 hits in the UK. Joanne Catherall and Susan Sulley contributed but the whole was much more than the sum of its parts. The sly experiments carried over to follow-up single "Open Your Heart" which was another big hit. It was only with the unloved, unwanted "Don't You Want Me" that they capitulated to pure pop — and look what that did for them. But it was all a culmination. Had their now-classic smash come out first, it might not have connected in the same way. They started off 1981 with a cult following, the critics gradually came on board and the pop kids were beginning to pay attention. It was only for everyone else to discover them.

~~~~~

Also Released This Fortnight

The Belle Stars: "Slick Trick"

A melange of Pigbag's "Papa's Got a Brand New Pigbag", Blondie's "Rapture", Madness' "The Return of the Los Palamos 7" and the stuttering sound of Talking Heads in general, The Belle Stars' second single may be low on originality but they have energy to burn and it's clear they were a tight septet. "Slick Trick" is impressive but not quite likable enough for me to ever want to hear it again so Hepworth is right to keep it at arm's length. Their hardcore followers doubtless won't agree but they needed to shake the remnants of predecessor punk group The Bodysnatchers from their sound. Good thing they eventually would.

(Click here to see my original review)

The Human League: "The Sound of the Crowd"

30 April 1981

"I see it now...the year is 2000! Revivalist groups are trying to reconstruct the genuine sound of the synthesiser. This they achieve by banging a hammer on a corrugated iron roof in time to an assortment of for-horns, humming kettles and finely-tuned cake tins."

— Mark Ellen

The eighties revival would indeed occur. Grunge, MTV Unplugged and rockist notions that the guitar was all that mattered weren't able to make it out of the nineties. The "decade that taste forgot" (wasn't that also they would describe the seventies?) would be back in retro nights at clubs. We would ironically enjoy the music of Journey and Toto. Groundbreaking eighties' videos from the likes of A-ha, Michael Jackson and Dire Straits made us long for a time when promos were an event in themselves. The nineties had been all about authenticity but it only succeeded in making us want to have more artifice than ever. But "The Sound of the Crowd" would soundtrack very few retro parties and revivalists weren't seeking it out. It would be a Human League single from the end of the year that would provide the basis of their legacy.

The Human League had been toiling away for four years and had become leaders of Sheffield's music scene. On a national level, however, interest in them had been minimal. A potentially fatal schism over the group's direction led to the departures of founding members Ian Craig Marsh and Martyn Ware, leaving the duo of Philip Oakey (who was always more a singer than musician) and Adrian Wright (then still in the very un-muso role of 'film technician') to figure out the group's next move. A lot has been made of the recruitment of teenage girls Joanne Catherall and Susanne Sulley but keyboardists Ian Burden and Jo Callis joining up was just as important. Now a sextet, it was time for them to start performing and recording.

Sulley has said that her and Catherall were resented by "blokes" on their first tour and it's likely that calls of "sell out" were directed at them. Nevertheless, their concerts were well-received and the singer felt that they had "turned the corner". Yet, this new incarnation of the League was still clouded in uncertainty. The typically avant garde single "Boys and Girls" (performed by the duo of Oakey and Wright) appeared and only just missed the Top 40, a sign that perhaps their time was coming. The critics, however, weren't impressed with David Hepworth expressing doubt that the group had any intention of ever crafting a hit record.

As if heeding Heps' warning to "shape up", Burden and Callis were signed up (the former initially on a trial basis around the same time that Catherall and Sulley turned up). Oakey and Wright had been determined to make it as DIY as possible, the compliance of machines being favoured over the potential hassles of session musicians. Then, the pair did an about face, one that was so abrupt it ended up being chronicled by Ian Cranna in the May 14 issue of Smash Hits (they commenced the interview still determined to go about it themselves, took a meeting with record company execs and producer Martin Rushent and returned to Cranna suddenly embracing the concept of proper musicians).

All this led to their next move, the charts. "The Sound of the Crowd" is a terrific dance record that has 1981 pop trends written all over it. On the other hand, there's a distinct harshness to it as well, a quality that had been retained from the Marsh-Ware era of "Being Boiled" and "Empire State Human". That said, even The Human League's most radical works were still grounded in pop music values (for all of its avant garde qualities, The Dignity of Labour, their EP dedicated to Soviet space exploration, has its moments of pure catchiness, particularly its irresistible third part). If new members were signing on and new approaches were being considered, the very essence of The Human League seemed to be intact. The synths could've been smoothed over and the impressionist lyrics could've been reconsidered if they were really trying to bend over backwards to get that elusive hit single.

The pace of their trajectory suddenly seems startlingly fast. It is the spring of '81 and they were still trying to figure out where they would be heading next. Eight months later they would have the UK Christmas Number One and LP Dare would be the consensus album of the year. It's easy to look at "The Sound of the Crowd" as an odd choice for the first single — surely any one of "Love Action (I Believe in Love)", "Open Your Heart" or "Don't You Want Me" would've been stronger if they had really been serious about finally cracking the Top 40 — but this ignores the fact their future hadn't been set that April. "The Sound of the Crowd" had to be their next single since there was nothing else at hand.

When fans complain that their favourite group has "sold out" they seldom consider the context. It seems Oakey and Wright were out to prove that they could keep The Human League going in spite of the Marsh and Ware having left. They then attempted to work out what they were capable of and then looked to Catherall, Sulley, Burden and Callis for help. Their finest single yet resulted and from there the floodgates would open. Things had been looking up but success wasn't guaranteed. The attractive girls Oakey had recruited weren't being exploited and it would be a while before they would become the focal point of the band (the same May 14 edition of ver Hits includes the lyrics to "The Sound of the Crowd" with an accompanying photo of Oakey, Wright and Callis; the girls did feature in a snap on the second page of the Cranna interview albeit in pre-pinup mode). Meanwhile, Marsh and Ware were busy with their B.E.F. pet project and they would soon form Heaven 17: any longtime Human League fans who wished to take the self-righteous high ground about selling out would've been disappointed by the direction of the much more serious faction of their beloved group.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Japan: "The Art of Parties" / "Life Without Buildings"

Like ver League, Japan had been putting out a string of singles for years that hadn't managed to catch on but they looked to be finding their way with the modest Top 50 success of "The Art of Parties". Ellen calls it a "safety shot" which probably seemed a lot more apparent at the time then it does more than forty years later. For sure there's this melange of Scary Monsters-era Bowie, Talking Heads energy, the atmospherics of late-period Roxy Music and horns that evoke white boy soul but this hardly seems like the safest hand to play — or if this is an example of them capitulating to commercial pressures then they managed to sell out with as much of their integrity as possible. The Human League had turned the corner and so too had Japan. (The two songs are listed as a double A-side but that appears to be a mistake on the part of either Smash Hits or the group's PR. "Life Without Buildings" is a fine work in its own right but there's no way it would've been considered for single status. David Sylvian barely being on it doesn't help)

The Human League: "Empire State Human"

18 October 1979

26 June 1980

"If we have to have all this teutonic synthsiser stuff (and I'm by no means convinced) then let it be said that The Human League have a sense of humour and fairly catchy choruses. I rest my case."

— David Hepworth

"The important thing is that "Empire State Human" is probably the catchiest item in their rich repertoire, tailored almost along the lines of a crazed rugby song."

— David Hepworth

As you can see, David Hepworth twice reviewed the same single by The Human League for Smash Hits. The first from 1979 is included above in full and it quite clearly isn't his favourite offering. Regular readers of this blog will have noted that his "pick" single that fortnight was The Undertones with "You've Got My Number (Why Don't You Use It)" while other favourites include Nils Lofgren with "No Mercy", The Specials and their superb double-A "A Message to You Rudi" and "Nite Club" (probably the rightful SOTF with all due respect to Derry's finest) and Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark with "Electricity" (for someone who isn't "convinced" by synths, Heps sure is okay with at least two rising electro-pop groups). "Empire State Human" probably isn't a top flight offering but his nibs can certainly see the value in it.

Jump ahead eight months and ver League and their reissued single of old seem to have grown on him. While he also enthuses about "Wednesday Week", yet another record from The Undertones ("not so much a change of tack as an example of the advantages of growing confidence"), I detect slightly more of a pop fan's appreciation for "Empire State Human" ("an insanely jolly chorus") even though he orders the pop kids reading the Hits to go out and buy them both forthwith. The selection of singles is fine though not as strong as the previous October. It seems The Human League have spent the past few months endearing themselves to at least one top pop critic (I don't think he considered their repertoire to be as rich a year earlier), something they would slowly do to music hacks and the British public over the next several months ahead.

A year on from this issue of Smash Hits and The Human League would be well on their way to being one of the biggest groups in the world. Yet, you'd never know it at this point. "Empire State Human" had already been their third single but such was the state of their commercial potential that their record label had more faith in it that any of the material on their recent album Travelogue. The Holiday '80 EP had been a near-miss (the song "Marianne" is one of their finest hits that never was) but their latest album had done well entering the charts in the Top 20. A group on the rise, or so you'd assume. Surely any of "Life Kills", "Dreams of Leaving" or "The Touchables" off of Travelogue deserved to be pressed into a 7" disc.

Nevertheless, "Empire State Human" was a good enough single to merit a second chance. From debut "Being Boiled" on, Human League records were first rate recordings and it's remarkable how poorly they did. Their industrial/experimental sound would always be there while founding members Martyn Ware and Ian Craig Marsh were part of the group but they were seldom overly radical at the expense of melody and pure pop jubilation (the leftist agitprop EP The Dignity of Labour and the "Empire..." b-side "Introducing" being the only real exceptions). Anyone who thinks they only became a pop group with the 1981 breakthrough Dare need only listen to this tune's catchy chorus (it's so catchy that Hepworth felt the need to bring it up in both of his reviews). While we may assume that leader Philip Oakey was wishing to be taller, there's the subtext of yearning for his band to be bigger as well.

Opening with a bouncy synth, Oakey delivers his most commanding vocal to date. Ware and Marsh back the singer with layers of sparkly keyboards but the track gradually takes on darker tones with more of an avant-garde VCS 3 synth thrown in and Ware doing some Residents-esque chanting in the background. It could have soundtracked a sad late-seventies remake of Metropolis and, indeed, it's a wonder film technician Adrian Wright didn't choose to use stills of the 1927 classic in the single's promo. Yet, it's funny and few others could get away with repeating the word 'tall' as much as Oakey does in the song's three minutes.

I stand 195 cm (I don't do feet and inches anymore so look it up if you're metrically-challenged) and I have always been tall (I was ill as a newborn and was crammed into an incubator, doubtless an odd sight alongside a bunch of tiny infants) and I will say that it's fantastic for the most part. My height makes me seem more handsome than I actually am (or it did when I was in my twenties) and strangers think I'm special just to by looking at me. Sure, I bump my head a lot, it's difficult to buy clothes and people sometimes call me 'Stretch' but I love being tall. It's nice to be envied for something I had no control over. Everyone wants to be "tall, tall, tall" and who can blame them?

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Ultravox: "Sleepwalk"

From bubble gum to punk to classic rock, Midge Ure's next logical step was synth-pop. His background in disparate genres makes him far too good of a vocalist for his latest project and his attempts to pull off a Bowie/Numan robotic style fail to convince. It's almost as if he assumed he was laying down the vocal for a power pop number only for the electronic keyboards to wipe out the three chords and the truth. Synth music was not without its bandwagon jumpers but its a credit to Ure for getting on early. Musically, the single is pretty good, if a little anonymous. Ironically, it's Ure's rockism that makes them stand out; it probably isn't the best idea for your weakness to be what makes you unique but there you go. A bit of a breakthrough hit, "Sleepwalk" lays the groundwork for their biggest hit "Vienna" when Ultravox almost seemed like legit synth-pop contenders. Chancers gonna chance.

Cameo: "Word Up!"

13 August 1986

"So prepare to Cameosisize (? - Ed.) yourself because things are looking very good indeed!"

— Simon Mills

A confession: I used to think it was pronounced 'ka-may-yo'. Down the hill from where I grew up there was (and still is) a Cameo Beauty Salon and for some reason it came up in conversation with my sister. In my defense, 'ka-may-yo' does sound like the name of the soap designed to cleanse your pores. For some reason, this falter on my part stuck and she never failed to remind me of it whenever we were in close proximity of Cameo Beauty Salon — which we always were — and she'll still bring it up to this day. But I think I prefer my mispronunciation and if the group of the same name had looked and sounded like Chic then it would have been a crime for them to be known as anything other than 'ka-may-yo'.

I long assumed Cameo amounted to an outrageous, sexed-up equivalent of Chic but that's really not what they were. Starting off as a funk outfit, the group evolved over time picking up disco, hip hop and synth pop influences. In Larry Blackmon they had a charismatic frontman, all intense eyes and a bright red cod piece to dazzle audiences. Though they were gradually making progress on the charts — 1984 "She's Strange" was the biggest of their modest early hits — they wouldn't truly cash in until "Single Life" nabbed them a Top 20 hit in the UK. (How it missed the US Hot 100 completely is beyond me) A great mash up of swing beat, electro-funk and European synth production wizardry, it's remarkable for how conventional it is. Blackmon sings on it for god's sake! The instruments and samples aren't piled on top of each other! "Single Life" could easily have been the foundation on which they built an impressive run of funk-soul hits but why stay still?

So, instead of more of the same, Cameo just went with more. Sampling themselves (unless they first cribbed the "whistled spaghetti western theme" from elsewhere before using it on "Single Life") the record momentarily baits the listener into thinking they're doing that retread that must have seemed so inevitable. But this one is hits harder, more like a Prince song that doesn't feel the need to launch into a bunch of gaudy guitar solos. Blackmon is sort of rapping on this one, albeit in a fashion that is campy. It's almost as if he'd only been told about hip hop and figured this is how you're supposed to rap. It's tempting to think what LL Cool J or Run-DMC would have done with this but in getting the raps right, they would've ended up getting the record wrong. A line like "wave your hands in the air like you don't care" is trite no matter what you do but, voiced by someone with the mannerisms of an aerobics instructor, it at least seems genuine done by Blackmon; keeping it real rappers of the time could never not care.

Simon Mills is absolutely riveted by "Word Up!" and it's easy to understand why. It's a culmination of everything great about black American music at the time and a tour-de-force performance by Cameo. On the other hand, I wouldn't go quite so far as to say its "a frighteningly good record". While I admire Blackmon's unique attempt at rapping, it takes some getting used to and it gives off a lingering feeling that we're in novelty song territory. Also "frighteningly good"? I'm one to over-gush a song or album I'm enjoying but not to this extent. Just off the top of my head I couldn't tell you if I've ever heard a song that I thought to be "frighteningly good". Anyway, the public weren't turned off by this oversell as it hit the Top 3 so what do I know?

Cameo milked their British success with three more Top 40 hits taken from their 1986 album Word Up! but they failed to repeat it with their next set of singles two years later. People had moved on and the charts reflected different tastes but I have to wonder if a part of their undoing was down to their biggest hit. They crammed everything into "Word Up!" and made it impossible to follow. They chose to keep moving forward from the superb "Single Life" but there was nowhere else to go from here. They had used up all their tricks.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Human League: "Human"

Mills complains that his colleagues tried to strongarm him into making this SOTF which makes me wonder if this was a common occurrence round the offices of ver Hits. Was the bulk of abuse faced by original reviewer Cliff White coming from his co-workers (which he then chose to blame on the kids writing in)? Did Dave Rimmer become the office pariah when he dared question the genius of "Billie Jean"? Did the staff conspire to torpedo Sigue Sigue Sputnik 's future after Martin Degeville and Neal X made such a mockery of the singles? Here, I think his chums have a point, even if I understand giving it to 'Ka-may-yo' instead. With Philip, Joanne and Susanne all well turned out for the video, "Human" is appropriately polished with the Jam & Lewis songwriting-production team giving it that (in the words of critic and chart analyst Chris Molanphy) 'rain on the windowpane' sound. Mills is having none of it, claiming Phil can't sing or something. Uh, and what of Larry Blackmon? Not exactly the smoothest of pipes either. Whatever, like "Word Up!", "Human" is a fantastic pop song but one that also saw them begin to lose their way a bit.

Lene Lovich: "Say When"

3 May 1979

"Oh crikey, another confession to make: I haven't actually got this single yet."

— Cliff White

I'll also begin with a confession: I'm hoping to eventually do one of these posts without ever having heard the record in question. This is not something I will do on purpose by intentionally refraining from playing it but only if I happen upon a single that is unavailable online. But so far damn-near every single I've written about has been on YouTube (I had to get a subscription to Deezer in order to give Bob Dylan's "Lenny Bruce" a "spin") and it could be a situation I never have to deal with. I'll let you know if and when.

But it's not like everything is available online. While Cliff White wasn't able to hear the single release of "Say When", I've had problems tracking down the version from Lene Lovich's Stateless — or, I guess I should say, the original version from said album. It looks as though the bulk of its eleven tracks ended up being remixed for US release in 1979 and now the waters have been muddied in terms of knowing quite what's what. I may have heard the original for all I know but I haven't detected much of difference. I don't imagine I have much of an ear but it wouldn't be the first time remixing was a subtle art.

The follow-up to the Top 5 success of "Lucky Number", "Say When" was bound to have a lot to live up to. While not as big a hit, the record's Top 20 placing indicates that audiences hadn't fully tired of her shtick by this point. Different enough from its predecessor, it is nevertheless fronted by Lene Lovich and thus utterly recognizable.

White notes that it's not unlike a Bo Diddley number but I hear it more as a rockabilly freak out with a nod to the re-emerging ska movement and even a touch of circus fairground organ pumping away. "Lucky Number" was a vehicle for Lovich's individual talents to shine forth but this is much more of an all-around performance: her patented vocals squawks are present and correct but so, too, is the first rate playing of the band backing her — just as accomplished as the last time but with much more of a chance to shine with the singer holding herself back a bit.

Or perhaps it's the conciseness of the composition that forced Lovich to apply the breaks. "Lucky Number" packed in an awful lot of a story — too much, if anything — but there isn't a great deal to expound upon here. Her man is primed for some rumpo but the singer is commanding him to wait for her to give the go ahead. She probably desires a little bedtime action herself ("well you look plenty good to me", which gets some extra sexual push via Lovich's feisty vocal) but she's not about to let him force his will upon her. She's the one in charge and he'd better bloody not forget. A welcome feminist anthem or an account of a one woman power trip: either way, it's a point made without much fuss.

Lovich and partner Les Chappell were clearly on to something. She was charismatic with a unique image and vocal stylings unlike anyone else; he led a crack band that was stylistically all over the shop. They had two superb hit singles on the bounce and it must have seemed like this was going to continue. But that's the thing with those who are different: they can't just churn out product for the masses. They wouldn't know how to do it even if they wanted to.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Human League: The Dignity of Labour

Sticking with the theme of records our good critic didn't listen to, this E.P. wasn't reviewed by White, it "accidentally on purpose" (they used that expression back in 1979?) ended up in the L.P. pile that Red Starr was tasked with. Impressing him far more than anything else this fortnight, he introduces the albums with this aside. While other early League singles "Being Boiled" (which came before this) and "Empire State Human" (later in the year) aren't all that far away from the commercial direction they'd famously take eighteen months later, the tracks that make up The Dignity of Labour are perhaps the most radical that Marsh, Ware and Oakey ever came up with — and you'd never see "Don't You Want Me" through all the Soviet-era cosmonauts and Politburo cheap cigarette smoke. How great were The Human League? 

Cocteau Twins: "Pearly-Dewdrops' Drops"

26 April 1984

"The Cocteau Twins are a band I've never really listened to and I feel that maybe I've missed out on something."

— Dave Gahan

The majority of Singles of the Fortnight are chosen because of the songs. (I know, a stunning bit of insight to kick off this week's entry) This one isn't one of them. As Dave Gahan says, Cocteau Twins are fairly new to him and the little that he offers up in analysis amounts to praise for Elizabeth Fraser's voice, something he could have just as easily used to prop up any Twins record, be it "Sugar Hiccup" from a few months earlier or "Aikea-Guinea" a year later (though, amazingly, not the astonishing "Lorelei" — the dead cert number twenty-one hit that they never had — since it was never released on a single or an E.P., their preferred format at the time).

Gahan's ignorance of ver Twins brings to mind the thrill of being there to experience a fresh new act. Long before I gave myself to Louis Armstrong, The Modern Jazz Quartet, Miles Davis, The Beach Boys, Fairport Convention, Steely Dan, Roxy Music and Blondie, I was once a moody adolescent having his world changed to the sounds of Pet Shop Boys, The Beautiful South, Happy Mondays, The Wonder Stuff, Billy Bragg and, yes, Morrissey. Much fun as it is to discover that Satchmo did something as mind blowing as "Beau Koo Jack" over ninety years ago, there's nothing quite like stumbling upon something completely new that very few people have heard before that sounds like nothing ever made before.

Fraser's voice is, of course, the main attraction and the the primary reason why Cocteau Twins sounded so fresh. Elastic like Kate Bush, soothing like Joni Mitchell, deadened like many of her forerunners coming out of post-punk, she still manages to sound like none of them only like herself. No one has ever managed to make a virtue out of sounding so completely incomprehensible, which is just as well given that her lyrics seem to defy all meaning. (I was surprised to discover that the chorus isn't made up of the line "tease a lucky, lucky penny, penny, penny bicycle..." though less so that the actual words make every bit as much sense)

Fresh is something we feel in pop rather than something we are able to rationally account for. Their ingenious fusing of  industrial music and dream pop had to come from somewhere for Fraser, Robin Guthrie and Simon Raymonde to cotton on to it. A fairly recent addition to the band, Raymonde's superlative bass playing is something straight out of Peter Hook's bag of tricks and they owe more than a little to the Joy Division sound in general. Still, I'll take a dozen or so Cocteau Twins records of the time over anything those miserable Mancuians ever did and that's because the indie Scots were able to inject some sparkly magic into all of their best work. You may be completely original or utterly derivative but if you can't make your records shine than what's the bloody point of putting them on? How else will you get the Dave Gahan's of the world to sit up and take notice?

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Human League: "The Lebanon"

Some unabashedly rawk guitar, the situation in the Middle East, Philip Oakey's stubble, Joanne Catherall's shoulder-pads: yes, The Human League were becoming very serious indeed. Having taken their beautifully crafted and wildly successful synth-pop sound one step too far with the irritating "(Keep Feeling) Fascination", it was probably about time they gave it a rethink. The results probably ought to be laughably bad but they pull it off by reigning in all the grown up elements into the pure pop that they still had a grasp of. It's no "Love Action" or "Don't You Want Me" but a track that still sits proudly alongside the League's admirable collection of singles — and an indication that they were well aware of just how political the charts were becoming.

Bobby O: "I'm So Hot for You"

11 November 1982

"The deejay in the Carnaby Street shop over the road keeps playing it and so do I."
— Neil Tennant

In their follow-up to the landmark single "Blue Monday", New Order flew to New York to record "Confusion" with famed producers Arthur Baker and John Robie. They had no sooner completed the session and Baker was off, a presumably still warm reel-to-reel of his latest recording under his arm. He hopped in a cab which made its way through Manhattan just as a young woman (who we'll call Wendy) got off her job slinging pizza and rushed home to change for a night out (without even acknowledging her very sullen looking parents and younger sister, sitting round a chess set at the dining room table). The members of New Order, meanwhile, have been busy packing up their instruments and joking around with their manager but they would soon be on their way too. They're headed to The Fun House, as are Baker and Wendy. The producer arrives and hands over his latest recording to DJ John "Jellybean" Benitez. Wendy hits the dancefloor and is immediately the star of the show as she gets her groove on with some shirtless mustachioed guys. The band pose for some photos and then look on as Wendy and everyone else at the club gets down to their newest single.

The above is a description of the video for "Confusion", a perhaps mythologized account of the song's transition from recording to dance sensation. Quite how it was actually cut and distributed to the clubs is beside the point but two things are significant. First, Baker's priority was getting his latest work to The Fun House, having it pressed and in the shops could wait. Second, the band, in taking in the dancefloor rave up from the DJ booth, becomes the song's audience and Wendy becomes the performer. In short, the charts don't matter so much and who cares about the artist so long as the kids are dancing.

"I'm So Hot for You" comes from this world of the New York dance clubs. This week's entry is a bit of a continuation of what I wrote back in October, which just so happened to be the last NY dance record to cop a SOTF, as well as Neil Tennant's most recent previous turn in the reviewer's chair. Having made the point that American dance pop had been marginalized at home while embraced by the British (and, indeed, the rest of Europe), I have to wonder if that's simply how they wanted it to be. Producers and DJs led a cozy existence, with some even doubling in both roles. Bobby "O" Orlando was more into playing music and studio wizardry than spinning but he nevertheless understood what would go down in the clubs even if he had no idea and/or no interest in what might work for radio. Disco having long been considered passe, mainstream American radio had little time for this type of thing but it had a sufficient enough following in New York to keep the clubs packed.

Still, it didn't exactly catch on in Britain either, in spite of the best efforts of Tennant and the deejay over the road. Seeing as how there are so many flop records that were anointed SOTF, I've wondered just what was missing that failed to get them on the charts (aside from, of course, the reviewer having absolutely lousy taste). While some lack that commercial spark, a modern sound and/or big time record company money, "I'm So Hot for You" suffers from the kind of anonymity that comes with being the product of the New York dance scene. The vocalist — who may or may not be Bobby O himself — is workmanlike but that probably helps not to distract from the production and the superb percussion. Nicking, as Tennant notes, the distinctive synth from The Human League's "Don't You Want Me" gives it a familiarity which may have worked in the clubs ("I think I've heard this one before") but could seem like shoddy pilfering when sitting down to give it a listen.

Bobby O's finely-tuned Hi-NRG sound was becoming a major influence on Tennant, who continued to press on with his musical ambitions when not penning record reviews and taking the mickey out of hard rock bands at his day job at ver Hits. All he had to do now was get himself over to New York and try to track him down. Good thing he had his position at a top pop mag in order to do so.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Human League: "Mirror Man"

While Bobby O was busy pinching synth bits from Sheffield's finest, ver League were, in turn, mining Motown for the follow-up to their world-wide smash "Don't You Want Me", a sign that they were trying to move on just as others were embracing them. Consequently it lacks the sonic futurism of their terrific crop of '81 singles and is the first indication that they would never reach those heights again. Leader Phil Oakey would eventually admit that it was inspired by Adam Ant but you have to wonder if he had his own success in mind when he penned these lyrics about losing touch with fans. (He evidently took heed as he remains by all accounts an absolutely smashing bloke) "Relax, everyone," Tennant writes. "The new League single's alright." Good man, Neil: reassure ver kids that Phil, Joanne, Susann and the other three are still doing decent work while keeping expectations in check. Not half-bad but no "Love Action" either.

Linx: "Can't Help Myself"

26 November 1981

"Amid all the dross being released this fortnight to try to cash in on Christmas, this one stands out as one of the few worth slipping on the turntable at your favourite festive occasion. Dance? You can't help yourself."

— Dave Rimmer

Christmas dross. Yeah, we're all familiar with that, even those of us who have a soft spot for 'em. But we're not simply dealing with John & Yoko's "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" and Wizzard's "I Wish I Could Be Christmas Every Day", both covered in this week's singles round up (Rimmer credits the latter with having the "decency to begin with the appropriate sound of a cash registar"); also present are novelty songs, re-releases and timely cover versions. Such a state would endear anyone feel well-disposed to a makeshift catchy dance number to get down to.

Now I don't doubt that Dave Rimmer enjoyed the latest single from soul-funksters Linx but I do have to wonder if it was really his favourite of the bunch. Being a SOTF doesn't necessarily mean that it's the best song on offer, it could be as much to do with its circumstances of release. Being now less than a month away from Christmas, the charts were becoming more seasonal and Rimmer appears to want to take a stand against all that "dross".

Or maybe I'm just not especially thrilled by "Can't Help Myself". There's nothing wrong with it, it's pleasant enough, I could very well dance to it at a Christmas party — even though no one ever dances at Christmas parties, the few I've been to just involve a bunch of people just sitting around getting wasted but maybe that's just the crowd I "run" with — but it's missing something. Rimmer points out that listeners could easily mistake it for a Michael Jackson number and he's not wrong but it's hardly vintage MJ. There's no mixing this up with "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" or "Workin' Day and Night" from the astonishing Off the Wall album. When I mentioned a couple weeks' back about ABC's "Tears Are Not Enough" sounding an awful lot like Chic, I hope I also managed to communicate that they were still able to invest some of their own creativity into it. That's not so much the case with "Can't Help Myself".

An obsession with soul was of the great trends of UK pop in the eighties — as, indeed, we've already begun to see over the last few entries on this blog. While American vocalists such as Anita Baker, Luther Vandross and Alexander O'Neal were busy — alongside their crack writing, studio and production teams — dishing up a storm of intensely passionate cuts and Dexys Midnight Runners were adding some uniquely British industrial town/dole queue grime to the mix, Linx seem stuck, able to adequately ape soul without quite capturing it. Soul dross, if you will.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Human League: "Don't You Want Me"

Surely this isn't the dross Rimmer was referring to. Well... For many the single of the year, let alone for one measly fortnight, "Don't You Want Me" is shrugged off by Rimmer as "the most obvious single on the [Dare] album" but with little analysis. Considering what he says above about Christmas cash in's perhaps he felt as if a fourth single off their latest LP was pushing it (he sees it being a hit "assuming there's anyone out there who hasn't already got [it]"). The fact that such a sure fire smash had been held over until this point was down to leader Philip Oakey considering it to be little more than album filler. Taken aback by this somewhat, I tried to approach it with fresh ears — only to end up having an already overplayed song done to death. I'm beginning to see why Oakey was so dismissive. Having always considered "Don't You Want Me" to be a duet, I was surprised to discover that Susanne Sully's memorable part ("I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar" only works as a line when delivered in a sullen South Yorkshire drawl) is so short. It's as if she's just trying to get a word in over Oakey feeling sorry for himself. If it's ver League by numbers, though, it's important to consider that they were at the peak of their powers and it still works. Dross in the best possible sense.

The Human League: "Love Action (I Believe in Love)"

6 August 1981

"This is more like it. Soul music made in Sheffield."
— David Hepworth

A bit of a cheat this one since David Hepworth didn't exactly bestow a SOTF among this lot. We're still a ways away from it becoming an established part of the singles review page so it's not as if they were being mandated at the time. But he reserved the bulk of his praise for this particular record and that's good enough for me.

Hepworth is currently co-host of the splendid A Word in Your Ear podcasts (along with fellow erstwhile Hits scribe Mark Ellen, more on him at some point in the future). They typically sit down with music journalists, biographers or musicians flogging a memoir but on a couple of occasions they've engaged in some fond reminiscences with other hacks from Britain's top pop mag. Well, mostly fond. Hepworth has admitted that the singles review was a particular bugbear for him, recalling that:

"Half way through you start resenting the singles. You have to respond to these things and you don't feel like doing it. You just start making cheap jokes at their expense which the readers loved."

Hepworth had a fractious relationship with Smash Hits readers over the singles reviews, although just how much of that was played up to tease the audience is guess work. The 21 February 1980 issue saw a change in format with new releases all discussed in a page-long article. Hep prefaces with the following bit of baiting:

Heh, heh, heh. That's put a spanner in your work's hasn't it? New format, y'see. Specifically designed to foil those folks who scan the page for names of their favourites and then grab pen and paper to fire off the usual "Who does David Hepworth think he is?" letter. Gotcha!  

A month and a half later and he's back doing the singles, which have begun to waver from one issue to another between the old (and future) format of highlighting each release with its own entry and what we'll call the Hepworthy style. This time he begins with a slightly different tack to take on readers: 

First, I must deal with my correspondence. I am grateful to the Arsenal and Police fan who wrote from Enfield to point out that he/she didn't care for the way the Singles Column was currently laid out. Thank you for you helpful advice. Now why don't YOU go stick YOUR head up a dead bear's (Look, Dave, it's no use being diplomatic — you've got to be firm with 'em! — Ed.)

Leaving aside issues with the singles and a surly reviewer, this entry marks the ascendancy of The Human League to the frontline of UK pop. A decent avant-garde outfit who'd yet to tap into the public consciousness, they abruptly went pop in 1981 and found themselves slowly beginning to catch on. In one of their aforementioned Smash Hits-themed podcasts, Mark Ellen put forth a theory that the arrival the magazine altered the landscape and helped move once serious-minded, album-oriented acts — such as Adam & The Ants, Dexys Midnight Runners, Madness and, yes, The Human League — in the direction of the teen dominated singles market. Not so much a sell out as a realisation of just what was going on — although that is often exactly what selling out amounts to. It's a tired and pathetic charge to level upon most and in this case it has absolutely no merit whatsoever — to the extent that as I write this I suspect that I'm trolling myself in order to conjure up an argument when one doesn't exist.

In any event, the Sheffield soulsters' musical integrity remained following their transformation. But what the likes of "Being Boiled" and "Empire State Human" lack is pop dramatics which "Love Action" and its predecessor "The Sound of the Crowd" have in spades — and this is well before we even get to a certain cut from parent album Dare that would close out the year.

The Human League brought so many elements together to make "Love Action" such an outstanding single: the pained, ravaged baritone of Phil Oakey, an industrial yet elegant synth backing, the presence of backing singers/dancers Joanne and Susan adding a touch of working class glamour, even the sinister but still kind of amusing video from a year later. Sheffield Soul in all its glory.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Kim Wilde: "Water on Glass"

Hepworth's grumpiness should be considered in the context of the awfully dire pile of 45's he had to sift through this issue. No one save for ver League escaped lashings from his curt pen. And who can blame him? "Water on Glass" is rather good in a scramble-to-find-a-third-single-off-an-unexpectedly-successful-album kind of way but Our Kim's coasting when held up next to "Kids in America" while her — in Hep's words — detached vocal sounds a wee bit too apathetic for a song dealing with tinnitus, even though this is something she would soon perfect on her very fine run of upcoming singles. Her bandmates, however, deliver the goods with a rousing performance that just about saves a pretty mundane SOTF runner-up. She could and would do better.