Kim Wilde: "Love Blonde"

21 July 1983

"Now that summer's here, I suppose the charts are likely to be groaning under the weight of a load of sticky, syrupy slop designed to get everyone holding hands under the moonlight and being quite vile."

— Deborah Steels

"She's got that sen-su-a-li-DEE..."

When I was in my late twenties I went through a period of underemployment followed by not having a job at all. When not preoccupied with fretting over my bleak future, I was busy having stimulating conversations with friends, listening to lots of jazz and reading some superb books. (Appropriately, it was during this period that I discovered the works of Geoff Dyer, who describes the transition from studying at Oxford to life on the dole in South London: "The difference was the quality of study — which, of course, was far higher in Brixton") Not interested in heavy semiotics, I took to the more creative writings of French philosopher Roland Barthes: Roland Barthes by Roland Barthes, A Lover's Discourse (which we'll likely get to in two or three years from now) and Camera Lucida, his study of photography.

In Camera Lucida, Barthes puts forth the notion of the punctum, a detail in a picture, which may or may not be relevant to the image but which nevertheless touches a nerve in the viewer and is typically the very first thing they happen to notice. I flipped out. I scanned every photo available to me in search of a punctum and then, once that source had become tapped, I started trying to spot them in song. (I once wrote a not-at-all-pretentious piece about the "punctures" of Bill Evans' Sunday at the Village Vanguard in which far too much of my attention was on the cover photo, a sign that the 'audible punctum' was beyond me) Of course, music operates differently from pictures. We look at a photograph and take it all in at once; a record we have to experience as it progresses from beginning to end. Still, I became fascinated by trying to listen for moments would grab me, throw me off, hit a nerve.

Kim Wilde's pronunciation is this song's punctum. To anyone thinking that "Love Blonde" is a straightforward jazz-pop ditty about a gorgeous woman who has men wrapped around her little finger, listen to how she makes the word 'sensuality' sound so lacking in, well, sensuality. (I first misheard this number as being the story of a young, working class girl who aspires to sophistication and cocktail bars but only ends up tripping up and exposing her real self, which, as I type, kind of still feels like a legitimate take even if the Wildes had no intention of making this point) The femme fatale in the lyric is only seen to be that way. She's off limits to young men gawking at her and only comes alive when she's out of the public eye ("Situation: no-go zone / But she'll cut loose when she's alone") The attention is empowering and she gives no quarter. While the song was conceived as a joke, it needn't necessarily be taken lightly. Wilde winks audibly at the listener here and there but refuses to ham it up. And if you think she was singing about herself then the mangling of the last syllable of 'sensuality' should remove all doubt: she's just there to observe admiringly from a distance.

Considering the weightiness of her previous batch of singles, it's strange to think that people had Wilde down in the dumb blonde bimbo category. Prejudice towards her hair and image obviously played a part but so too was the implication that her dad and brother were doing much of the heavy lifting. Just reading back at the glowing reviews her two previous records received, it's easy to spot that Marty and Ricki Wilde being praised just as much. That may be right or wrong but at this point it appears to be a situation unique to her; other solo artists weren't having to share the acclaim among critics with their songwriters and/or producers. (This isn't to downplay the crucial role the two played, just to give Kim her due as one of her generation's premier vocalists, one who made those outstanding tunes and pristine productions into such fantastic singles)

"Love Blonde" is Kim Wilde's third Single of the Fortnight — and on the bounce to boot — making her the first act to hit for a trifecta. Having seen her chart fortunes dwindle with her remarkable trilogy of devastatingly bleak singles ("Cambodia" followed by previous SOTF'ers "View from a Bridge" and "Child Come Away"), it provided a welcome relief to fans and got her back into the Top 30. Not a big hit, no, and it would be a while before she began to really storm the charts again, but it's a single that adds luster to her already admirable discography. Having a record based in early rock 'n' roll and jazz (which I suspect may even be in on the joke: the likes of Weekend and Rip, Rig + Panic were then being heaped with acclaim, in no small part because of their use of jazz, a music that is to be taken seriously not like that synthy new wave rubbish) is a wonderful one-off for Wilde and a testament her underrated vocal range. She may not have had "sen-su-a-li-DEE" but she was way ahead of her peers in the game of crafting dazzling pop.

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Also Reviewed This Fortnight

XTC: "Wonderland"

"So sloppily romantic and sentimental it's got to be tongue-in-cheek," observes Steels, perhaps assuming that cheeky old grump Andy Partridge had more than a little to do with it. And, for all I know, maybe he did. But "Wonderland" is a Colin Moulding composition. Sure, XTC's bassist was reserved and buttoned-up in the most classically English sense but his music has feeling to it that his much more prolific partner struggled with in the group's early years, only really getting it later on with beautifully expressive numbers such as "Chalkhills and Children" and "Wrapped in Grey". One of those XTC singles that they must have known had no hope but that's not a knock on it.

(Click here to see my original review)

Echo & The Bunnymen: "Never Stop"

7 July 1983

"With a bit of cello, heartfelt vocals, some disco percussion, a name-check for Russian writer Maxim Gorky and what sounds like someone tapping out a tune on the ribs of a skeleton, this is probably the finest Bunnymen single ever."

— Dave Rimmer

It has now been just short of a year since I first launched VER HITS and we've already come across a few acts more than once (and that's not even including the so-called "cop" picks I've been making). In these cases, it's been interesting seeing how each managed to progress — assuming, of course, that's what they were striving for. ABC's second effort ramps up the loucheness of their first, while Kim Wilde's second kick at the SOTF crown is a tinkering of her patented gloomy song stories that had made her a darling of the Smash Hits staff. The Jam were progressing towards their demise, "Beat Surrender" being as far as they could possibly go. (Only Bobby O's pair of star singles hints at a static level of creativity; for all I know, he could well have cut his two entries at the same session)

Clearly, I am still several years away from growing disillusioned by having to write about five Cure singles (even if they were all pretty good) or four by Billy Idol (and only one of them was dreadful) or another four from Manic Street Preachers ("Motorcycle Emptiness" aside, I don't give a shit about any of the others). Oh the days when doing this blog was a pleasure and not a burden. It seems like such a long time ago.

We last encountered Echo & The Bunnymen here back in September with David Hepworth anointing a SOTF upon "The Back of Love" which also happened to be their first hit single. I describe it as a "breakthrough" for the Bunnies and Heps seems particularly pleased to discover that they at last seemed "fed up with loitering in the backwaters of hipness". Jump ahead eight months later (fifteen if you insist on going by what the calendars recorded) and there's Dave Rimmer pleasantly surprised that they've finally come out with something you might want to dance to rather than ponder over. Ian McCulloch and his Bunny chums seemed to have a lot of trouble shaking their reputation for making music that isn't necessarily to be enjoyed but should make their fans feel vastly superior to those poor, uninitiated sods.

This was never the case with a group like The Jesus & Mary Chain, perhaps because the Reids never considered themselves to be above it all. By contrast, the Bunnymen always seem to exist in a world in which they might enjoy the music they make and they may respect their ever loyal fanbase but they really don't seem to have much regard for anyone else. Pop stars are throwaway, stadium rock acts are self-important and indie artists are so pathetically tragic. And all of this may be true but it applies all the more to this Scouse act who managed to be throwaway, self-important and pathetically tragic all at once. But good on them for recording a handful of brilliant pop songs. I'd even dance to something like "Never Stop" if I didn't think that dancing was so stupid.

Rimmer is so pleased by this apparent shift that he might be guilty of overdoing the praise a touch. While it's hard to disagree that it's "probably the best Bunnymen single ever", I don't know that I'd go so far as to describe the opening as "joyous" or that I'd sum it all up by saying that it's "sheer bliss". Nevertheless, there's plenty here to admire. Musically damn-near flawless (now who's overselling), the cello, disco percussion and "what sounds like someone tapping out a tune on the ribs of a skeleton" manage to overshadow some fantastic Will Sergeant guitar playing (the instrumental break in which he does some fast-paced chugging followed by some fun with a whammy bar is remarkable). Rims is also taken by McCulloch's "heartfelt vocals" but they sound like Mac doing what he always did (and probably still does): a more powerful Terry Hall, a less melodramatic Bono, a Robert Smith you can relate to (yet, strangely, not close to as compelling as any of them). Distinctive enough — when a random song comes on I certainly know when it's not him — if not exactly individual, his histrionic wail couldn't have suited the Bunnymen sound better. If he's heartfelt on "Never Stop" then he's equally affecting elsewhere. (Still, I suppose it provides the only Top of the Pops clip of McCulloch untucking his shirt mid-performance — or is it? — so perhaps that gives his nibs points on the soulful scale)

As stated above, I'd only been at this Singles of the Fortnight blog for about a year when I got to "Never Stop". How it never occurred to me, then, that it is a pretty obvious steal from Haircut One Hundred's "Love Plus One" (a fellow SOTF from a few months' earlier) is anyone's guess. Rimmer doesn't seem to notice it either. Did Ian McCulloch think that Nick Heyward's songs are "woolly"? It feels like something he'd say. Not that I don't blame him for pundering such a fine pop song (one that I had already claimed owed more than a little to Paul McCartney's "Listen to What the Man Said"). You do you, Ian.

I get the feeling that hacks at ver Hits really had high hopes for Echo & The Bunnymen and that goes some way to explaining why they held their weaknesses — the ultra-hipness, the penchant for philosophy — against them so much and celebrated when they were able to overcome them. From the perspective of three and a half decades on, it's difficult to fully comprehend why they were so esteemed. A fine frontman, an inventive guitarist, a tight rhythm section, sure, but there's something missing that kept them from being special. McCulloch may reckon that they could have easily been U2 but I'd say it's much more likely that U2 could have been Echo & The Bunnymen.

Oh, my one substantive point on the Bunnymen. U2 could have been them. I'm proud of this observation even if I've never heard anyone agree with it or (imagine that) quote it back to me. In all honesty, I just wanted to write an essay in which I could use it. What else is there to say?

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Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Prefab Sprout: "Lions in My Own Garden (Exit Someone)"

"Doubt they'll get far with a name like that," pipes Rimmer, who was getting this 'Prefab Sprout is a crap name' obsession underway as early as possible. (For the love of god, Mark Ellen yammers on about it to this day) This idea that their name held them back from becoming a bigger deal is nice and all but it ignores Paddy McAloon's rather impenetrable compositions. Scritti Politti were only a little more successful and they had Green's Michael Jackson-like falsetto to aid their cause and mask his love for Derrida. McAloon composed "Lions in My Own Garden (Exit Someone)" as little more than an exercise to try to spell out LIMOGES, a town in France. His melodic gifts were already on display, though they would only get better, but so too was his attraction to obscurity, no matter the name of the band he has been fronting.

(Click here to see my original review)

Roman Holliday: "Don't Try to Stop It"

23 June 1983

"Very lively, a good summer record and, with the right breaks, it should be a big hit."

— George Michael

"It sounds like a sophisticated JoBoxers."

— Andrew Ridgley

The lads from Wham! are in the singles reviewer's chair this fortnight and they don't exactly kill it like Gary Kemp a couple issues back. Dragged down a bit perhaps by an uninspiring bunch of records, the pair don't seem to have much to say. In keeping with their group dynamic of one member doing vocals, music, writing and production and the other seemingly content to be a mate and look the part, George Michael takes the lead with the bulk of the little analysis offered up. For his part, perennial other one Andrew Ridgely does trot out the odd perceptive remark (his comment above comparing Roman Holliday to JoBoxers is the closest thing to a fascinating observation) but is otherwise consigned to the background. Good to know that Wham! could never stop being Wham!

We're a long way off from the starkly serious George Michael — not to mention the equally starkly serious facial hair that accompanied his metamorphosis — that pop music fans would eventually become all-too familiar with but we're already seeing a figure in dire need of a sense of humour. He also shows signs of a sizable rock star ego. Unable at times to put the records he's been tasked with first, he says of heavy metal that its one saving grace is that the "attitudes that go with it are far less dangerous than the elitism I bump into once or twice a week at London's trendier nightclubs". Of the sleeve of "Disco Bond" by The Frank Barber Orchestra, he points out that "if I were the sexist pig I've been accused of being, I'd probably say that the only decent thing about this record are the tasty birds on the cover". He's far from the worst offender in this regard but it's a bit sad seeing him make much of this review about himself.

Some records may have a lot going on in their favour yet still manage not to deliver much. Roman Holliday ably merge their obvious debt to fifties doo-wop and rock 'n' roll with post punk soul and touches of ska but they fail to convince in doing so. Their Peel session from a year earlier isn't really to my taste but their strict reliance on older styles feels much more comfortably in their element. Hardly tipped for a ride on the Giddy Carousel of Pop but it's easy to imagine them being good fun as a live act. (In the wacky video for "Don't Try to Stop It" they finish up their hectic day with a gig for some senior citizens which makes me wonder if they were nodding towards older audiences being better at appreciating their swing pop sound) It's hard to imagine what else backers John Peel and The Clash's Mick Jones saw in them otherwise. 

Good, throwaway fun for some, "Don't Try to Stop It" got some of the breaks that Michael had hoped for as it landed in the Top 20. Despite putting their very youthful-looking vocalist Steve Lambert on the cover later in the year, Roman Holliday were pretty much one and done, the follow-up, "Motormania", "enjoying" just a cup of coffee in charts. Novelty songs can have that effect. On the bright side, at least they could go back to being a real group again. You know, like Wham!

Postscript: Gosh the above was a little harsh. I guess I really was bored stiff with all those horns and all that pasty-white soul that had taken over British pop during much of the eighties. "Don't Try to Stop It" really isn't so bad and I'm not even sure it deserves to be lumped in with the likes of Dexys or JoBoxers anyway. Kevin Rowland may have sung about "poor old Johnnie Ray" but it seems like the members of Roman Holliday might have actually listened to the man. I suppose I was salty that George didn't name the vastly superior "Forbidden Colurs" by David Sylvian and the late Ryuichi Sakamoto as his Single of the Fortnight, which his bestie Andrew would have no doubt concurred with. (Oh, snap!)

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Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Marillion: "Garden Party"

With Genesis already subsumed into Phil Collins' solo career (honestly, was there any difference between the two by this point?) it was only right that the quintet that made up Marillion was around to make the pop kids aware of prog rock — even if the vast majority of them didn't want to know. Good on Fish and whoever else that made up his old band by making the four-and-a-half minutes allotted to "Garden Party" seem like it takes over an hour to get through: there's a kind of value-for-money to their knack for prolonging time. Like much of the prog I've heard, "Garden Party" is enjoyable enough musically but the lyrics and vocals drag it down. (Is it any wonder that Emerson, Lake & Palmer's extraordinary nine minute instrumental "Fanfare for the Common Man" is the genre's high point?) Thankfully, Marillion would get better by out Genesising Genesis with the marvelous single "Kayleigh" and the Misplaced Childhood album. Take that Abacab.

(Click here to see my original review)

Youssou N'Dour featuring Neneh Cherry: "7 Seconds"*

8 June 1994

"Brilliant though it no doubt is, this isn't what summer hits are normally made of."

— Tom "Bunny" Patterson-Frith

Please note that this is an unofficial entry. I have no idea what was Single of the Fortnight Best New Single in this issue of ver Hits and, indeed, this will be all too common as scanned copies being posted online gets harder and harder to come by. As a result, I am suspending 1994 posts on this blog until more become available. For now, I will be re-publishing and editing (and, in some cases, re-writing) older entries from 1983 and onwards. I would have stopped a week ago but I thought that going on hiatus with a reggae cover of "Baby I Love Your Way" seemed like a lame way to finish up. It's possible that "7 Seconds" by Youssou N'Dour and Neneh Cherry was the actual SOTF BNS in the June 8 edition of Smash Hits but that will not be revealed until it gets uploaded — assuming it ever does. I don't hold out much hope, however: in the six years I've been keeping this blog going, I've only ever managed to guess one critical fave (which happened to be Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill"). But hey, I'm due! Plus, what kind of fool would go for something other than this mesmerizing ode to racial harmony? It's not like Hits writers and guest reviewers have screwed up before, is it?

~~~~~

During the summer of 1994, I visited the UK for the first time since the end of our year there five years earlier. I was seventeen and had to spend the first couple weeks with my parents as we drove around Scotland and the north of England before heading back down to Essex where I stayed with my friend Neil. It was a nice trip but I was at an age in which I wasn't keen to spend this much time with them. I wanted to talk to girls but they were always around (plus I was a total chicken shit but that's hardly relevant here). I sometimes wanted to be alone but I couldn't shake them. 

One thing that seemed to work in my favour was that they were either unable or unwilling to listen to anything other than Radio 1. We didn't have it on all the time but it played enough for a number of songs to make an impression on me. The final day of our road trip took us from King's Lynn (don't ask) to Billericay with a stop around Constable Country. It was a beautiful day as we drove through East Anglia and the Radio 1 Roadshow they were broadcasting suited the mood perfectly. I happily sang along to old favourites like The Wonder Stuff's "Dizzy" and Deacon Blue's "Wages Day" and enjoyed current hits from the likes of The Grid (see below), Blur and East 17. 1994 may not have had the best weather (though it wasn't bad on the whole) but it was teeming with shine pop hits. Even lightweight fare from China Black and 

One thing that I neglected to go into in last week's post was one of the subtler differences between the UK singles charts in 1991 and 1994. As I have already gone into, there were a pair of dominant power ballads from films that took control of the charts top spot for months on end which any same person would have eventually gotten sick of. In the case of Bryan Adams' "(Everything I Do) I Do It for You", it shared the Top 40 during its sixteen weeks on top with a hundred and forty-two other hits while the charts managed to stuff about one hundred and sixty-nine records as pretenders to Wet Wet Wet's immovable "Love Is All Around" — and in one fewer week to boot. While a few Top 10 smashes enjoyed prolonged residencies, the mid-nineties kicked off a period of one and done minor hits, the sort of singles which would debut at a spot like thirty-four or thirty-seven before falling out the following week.

A new entry at number forty for the week of June 19, 1994 may well have seemed like a one and done hit. Senegal's Youssou N'Dour had been a star in much of Africa and in France but the closest he'd ever come to a UK hit was with Peter Gabriel in 1989 with "Shakin' the Tree". So for him to even crack the lowest spot on the Top 40 was something of an achievement. That said, this would not have been encouraging for guest Neneh Cherry. Had "7 Seconds" tumbled down to, say, number sixty-seven the following week, it would've no doubt rivaled the likes of The Jam's "In the City", Dexys Midnight Runners' "Dance Stance" and The Breeders "Cannonball" as the greatest song to peak at the bottom of the hit parade.

Yet, fade away it didn't, even though it would have an unconventionally slow path towards its eventual peak position. The week after its debut it would modestly climb to number thirty-five before dropping down a spot seven days later. Your typical minor chart hit dies upon dropping down but this wasn't Then it shot up ten places to number twenty-six before moving up an additional two where it would be stalled for a fortnight — and then it kept on climbing, albeit only gradually.

How did this happen? I figured that it struggled to find airtime until a chance booking on Top of the Pops saved it but Youssou N'Dour and Neneh Cherry wouldn't appear on TOTP until the end of August by which time "7 Seconds" was a legitimate hit and on the cusp of the Top 10. There may have been other TV spots that aided its cause but if this did occur we aren't to know now since there's no record of them on Wikipedia. Most likely is that "7 Seconds" gradually caught on due to word-of-mouth while being held back somewhat by its overall dour sound — not to mention the glum black and white video that accompanied it. The Radio 1 Roadshow we listened to as we drove through Suffolk didn't have room for such a record. Neither did the pub jukeboxes which we spinning Take That's "Love Ain't Here Anymore" and, to be sure, "Love Is All Around".

And while we're on the subject, Wet Wet Wet's megahit seemed to be everyone's favourite song but the sentiment wouldn't last. Whereas the lengthy chart sojourn of "7 Seconds" only seemed to endear people more towards it. Somehow or other it managed to creep up on enough of the British public that it wouldn't be out of the Top 40 until the middle of October and it wound up on plenty of year end best of lists.

One of the keys to its success has to have been its wide-ranging appeal. With a mood not unlike Sting's magnificent "Shape of My Heart" and Bruce Springsteen's "Streets of Philadelphia", it was profound in a way that would catch the ears of Baby Boomers who otherwise wouldn't have cared about the team up of a little-known Senegalese singer and a Swedish hip hop star. Yet it maintained a cool factor comparable to Beck or Bjork. The song's dreaminess even placed it alongside ambient hits of the day by Engima and Deep Forest. Plus, it's easy for there to be something for everyone when you've got such an exquisite song to work with. It may not have soundtracked a nice fin de siecle summer but its very inability to do so may well be why it has refused to go away ever since.

~~~~~

Also (Possibly) Released This Fortnight

The Grid: "Swamp Thing"

Another candidate for single of the year, The Grid seemed to get caught in that very brief fad for countrifying Eurodance music. While "Swamp Thing" was on its way up the charts it was joined by "Everybody Gonfi-Gon" by Italian act Two Cowboys. Things exploded a few months later with the massively overplayed Rednex smash "Cotton Eye Joe". Unlike those two, however, The Grid deftly avoided novelty song hell. Whether the late Roger Dinsdale played the banjo throughout or if he was just sampled it really doesn't matter: either way, it still sounds as fantastic as it did thirty years ago. How convenient that this Tom "Bunny" Patterson-Frith got to review two of the finest singles of the entire decade in one go! 

Freur: "Matters of the Heart"

9 June 1983

"A blissfully romantic song, graced by an arresting vocal and an arrangement that hugs like loving arms at a windy bus stop."

— Mark Steels

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose double-glazing. Choose a hi-fi. Choose vitamins. Choose Breakfast Television. Choose to purchase your council flat. Choose seatbelts. Choose a sit-down Wimpy. Choose a holiday in Tenerife. Choose nuclear disarmament. Choose to believe Hugh Trevor-Roper. Choose lucozade. Choose peace in Northern Ireland. Choose Steve Cram. Choose getting a video for the kids.

(This is a clear example of padding out an essay that I was obviously at a loss with. "Oh look," observant readers no doubt exclaimed, "Paul's nicking from Trainspotting with references to the eighties!" Double-glazing! Sit-down Wimpy! Lucozade! It's as if I raided an old copy of The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole for as many references as I could manage. But if this is what you think what happened then I'm afraid you'd be wrong: I have memorized three of the first four Mole books so I didn't have to research at all!)

A couple weeks' back in the so-called "cop" piece that closes out these entries, I discussed "The Stand" by The Alarm, who I argued were at the forefront of Welsh pop due to there being absolutely no one else. Not true at all. There was Alison Statton, formerly of Young Marble Giants but this time vocalist for post-punk smooth jazzers Weekend, who enjoyed a SOTF a year earlier with "Past Meets Present". One of Britain's biggest acts of the time, Shakin' Stevens, also happened to be Welsh. But it wasn't a region overflowing with musical talent and the very fact that I keep thinking about late-eighties sophisti-pop one-hit wonders Waterfront says it all.

(The "cop" piece is now known as Also Reviewed This Fortnight. I neglected to acknowledge that Welsh pop did enjoy a renaissance in the nineties after that brief, regrettable period in which Waterfront somehow ended up being the Principality's chief musical ambassadors. That said, I'd probably take eighties' Cymru pop over it: a little Manics goes a long way in my book, I could never get past Cerys Matthews' wretched voice when dealing with Catatonia, I must be dead inside since I've never warmed to Super Furry Animals and I absolutely adore these three bands compared to Stereophonics. Gorky's Zygotic Mynci may well redeem such a mediocre scene but I really wouldn't know. Why haven't I given them a listen?)

Emerging out of Cardiff in 1983 was synth-pop gloomsters Freur. In fact, they were never called Freur, that was simply how one pronounced their name. They used a symbol and only came up with 'Freur' as a compromise with their record label. A good ten years before Prince cooked up his in-no-way pretentious "name" (with the much lengthier pronunciation of "the Artist Formerly Known as Prince"), this Welsh quartet must have really thought they were on to something with their, in the words of Kimberley Leston, "squiggle resembling a poorly tapeworm". The squiggle got them to number 59 in the charts with their first single "Doot-Doot' (either that or their eccentric name prevented them from getting any higher) and this was its follow-up. Not a great song but a marked improvement over its insubstantial predecessor. Trying for that glacial snyth sound that worked so well on Ultravox's "Vienna" and OMD's "Souvenir", it works out for them musically with a beautifully ghostly sound but it's a lyrical mess. It has lines that seem be meant to be profound but, upon closer study and thought, are mostly just nonsense. "Clowns in the street / The city is asleep / And no one hears a beat"? Hmmm, I'd be interested in investigating quite what they're getting at if I wasn't convinced they were churning out whatever sounds good. If the song's thesis is 'matters of the heart are complicated, you know' then I can't disagree but if leaves me wondering why I should care.

(Yeah, I stand by the above. Songs like "Matters of the Heart" work well when you're not paying attention but come undone if even the slightest bit of thought is put into them. But the melody is nice which I brushed over (checks notes) just over five years ago)

It is perhaps with this musical proficiency/lyrical ineptness in mind that Freur would gradually shift towards techno ambiance. Not strictly instrumental nor with a particular emphasis on samples and/or guest vocalists from the pop/rock "scene" but with certainly less importance placed on vocals. It's not an especially big leap to make going from synth-pop to electronica but it was something very few were able to pull off (indeed, it was a shift not many seemed interested in attempting). Dave Nonis, Mark Almond's mustachioed cohort in Soft Cell, would eventually re-emerge in nineties techno boffins with banjos The Grid but, by and large, your Vince Clarke's and Chris Lowe's who headed up the technical side of their acts avoided going full-on big beat. Freur embraced changes in the musical landscape and ended up as Underworld.

(Clearly lacking anything else to say, I wrap things up with a look at how some synth boffins chose to move towards house and dance music and away from pure pop. I clearly wasn't aware of Colourbox's similar shift when they evolved into into M|A|R|R|S in 1987 or thereabouts. I even sometimes wonder if members of JoBoxers ended up forming the basis of The Orb or if members of It's Immaterial eventually formed N-Trance but, sadly, neither of these things happened. I imagine I'll discover another seemingly random transformation but it will be from a pair of acts I would never have thought of. And that's the beauty of this "trend")

Choose life. Choose success. Choose film soundtracks. Choose rave. Choose hardwood flooring. Choose Michael Eavis. Choose credibility. Choose the Full Moon Party on Ko Pha-ngna. Choose New Labour. Choose lad mags. Choose ecstasy. Choose authenticity.

(I have to say these passages that nick from Ewan McGregor's Renton from Trainspotting are really what save this review from utter worthlessness. Yeah, it's pads out an admittedly empty and analysis-free review but it serves a purpose. The nineties weren't all that great for many of the above reasons. The Adrian Mole books even started to suck during this time. Except for The Wilderness Years because all we ever wanted to see was out Aidy become happy. There's hope for all, you see) 

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Durutti Column: "I Get Along Very Well Without You"

"Snap", to quote Steels in full. Oh the grief he must be assaulted with every time this "review" gets shared on social media. This hippest of bands with no songs anyone can name and a roster of anonymous members sure has a loyal following of people I don't know. Mojo even did a 'How to Buy' feature on them. A pity, then, that they just weren't all that good. I don't know of a single Durutti Column record that doesn't sound better in my imagination than what they actually recorded. I dig plenty of hipster pop but only on the condition that I would wish to listen to it. A big ask, I know. I suppose I will have to prepare for an eventual "assault" if and when this piece gets passed around on social media. I'll be ready.

(Oh what a sad little paragraph. I shouldn't try to take anything away from Ivor Vini Reilly. He's a deeply talented figure in his own right. I've just never been fussed by anything he's ever done — and that's more on me than him. And let's not take anything away from his nibs either: as Brian Eno said, only 10,000 people bought the first Durutti Column album but everyone who did went on to form bands who sold 1,000 copies of their debut release. Nothing to sneeze at, readers)

(Click here to see my original review)

Big Mountain: "Baby I Love Your Way"

25 May 1994

"UB40? Chaka Demus? Big Mountain?"

— Damon

"And the saxophone!"

— Trey

"That's a great vibe."

— David

2 Unlimited, Aaliyah, Abigail, Absolutely Fabulous, Ace of Base, Aerosmith, Alex Party, All-4-One, Tori Amos, Carleen Anderson, Animal, Anticappella featuring MC Fixx It, Arrested Development, Arrow, Aswad, Atlantic Ocean, Atlantic Starr, BC-52's, Bad Boys Inc., Michael Ball, Duke Baysee, The Beastie Boys, The Beautiful South, Big Mountain, Blackgirl, Blast featuring V.D.C., Blind Melon, Blondie, Blur, Michael Bolton, The Boomtown Rats, Boyz II Men, Brand New Heavies, Bravado, Toni Braxton, Bobby Brown, Jocelyn Brown & Kym Mazell, Kate Bush & Larry Adler, C&C Music Factory, Cappella, Mariah Carey, China Black, Clock, Clubhouse, Joe Cocker, Alice Cooper, Corona, Cracker, Crash Test Dummies, Crowded House, Chaka Demus & Pliers, D:Ream, DJ Duke, DJ Miko, Deep Forest, Degrees of Motion, Marcella Detroit, Tony Di Bart, Dinosaur Jr, Direckt, EYC, East 17, Echobelly, Enigma, Kim English, Erasure, Eternal, Aretha Franklin, Future Sound of London, Peter Gabriel, Galliano, Gloworm, The Grid, Gun, Guns N' Roses, Sophie B. Hawkins, Hed Boys, Helicopter, House of Pain, House of Virginism, Ice Cube featuring George Clinton, Janet Jackson, Jazzy Jeff & Fresh Prince, The Jesus & Mary Chain, Jodeci, Joe, Elton John, KWS & Gwen Dickey, K-Klass, R Kelly, Kerbdog, Killing Joke, Kristine W, L7, Let Loose, Level 42, CJ Lewis, Lighter Shade of Brown, Livin' Joy, Lisa Loeb & Nine Stories, Lucas, Lulu, M-Beat featuring General Levy, Magic Affair, Sean Maguire, Manchester United FC, Manic Street Preachers, Richard Marx, Maxx, Bitty McLean, John Mellencamp & Michelle N'Degecocello, Dannii Minogue, Kylie Minogue, Morrissey & Siouxsie, Mr V, Youssou N'Dour featuring Neneh Cherry, Shara Nelson, Nine Inch Nails, Oasis, PJ & Duncan, Robert Palmer, Pearl Jam, Ce Ce Peniston, Dawn Penn, Pet Shop Boys, Pink Floyd, Pizzaman, Pop Will Eat Itself, The Pretenders, Primal Scream, Prince, The Prodigy, Public Enemy, Pulp, Bonnie Riatt, Eddi Reader, Red Dragon with Brian & Tony, Reel 2 Real featuring the Mad Stuntman, Roachford, Juliette Roberts, The Rolling Stones, Rollins Band, Diana Ross, Roxette, SWV, Salt 'N' Pepa, Sasha with Sam, Mollison, Seal, Shampoo, Shed Seven, Nina Simone, Skin, S*M*A*S*H, Snoop Doggy Dogg, Soundgarden, Sounds of Blackness, Spin Doctors, Status Quo, Dave Stewart, Stiltskin, Sugar, Swing Out Sister, Take That, Terrorvision, Therapy?, The Three Tenors, Time Frequency, Tinman, Tin Tin Out featuring Sweet Tee, Two Cowboys, UB-bloody-40, Utah Saints, Volcano, Warren G & Nate Dogg, Crystal Waters, Whitesnake, Wildhearts, The Wonder Stuff, Worlds Apart, Wrecky-N-Effect

Just as I had with Our Bryan a while back, I have chosen to provide a list of every "artist" who appeared on the UK Top 40 during the very extended reign of Wet Wet Wet's "Love Is All Around" in the number one spot. There are similarities between it and "(Everything I Do) I Do It for You", both in terms of their status and the way the hit parades behaved during these two periods. Canada's favourite sandpaper-voiced son had a sixteen week stranglehold of the top spot while the Wets came just a week short of tying him. Neither one seemed particularly cool at the time and their extended reigns at the top only encouraged more of a backlash against them. (I visited the UK during that summer at the height of its popularity and returned to Canada before I could get completely fed up with it)

The two mammoth records also held off a pair of unlucky number twos. Right Said Fred's "I'm Too Sexy" ended up stuck in the runner up spot for an extended period as did "I Swear" by All-4-One. (I suppose the fact that they both managed to make it to number one on the American Hot 100 made up for this disappointment though) Indeed, the upper placings on the charts during these periods seemed remarkably static. In '94 in particular it seemed like The Grid's "Swamp Thing" (still an incredible single), The BC-52s' "Meet the Flintstones" (as godawful as ever) and Aswad's "Shine" (better than I remember it being) took up spots in the Top 5 and just refused to budge.

Another link is that they were both aided by being in popular films: Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves in the case of "Everything I Do..." and Four Weddings & a Funeral for "Love Is All Around". As was the present Single of the Fortnight Best New Single, a cover of "Baby I Love Your Way" performed by Big Mountain from the acclaimed 1994 picture Reality Bites. Hmm...one of these parings of movie and song is not like the others, is it?

(Before moving on, yet another thing that the two massive hits share in common is that Smash Hits didn't want to have anything to do with either of them.)

While it was mercifully free of lutes and the sort of tune that would get your average morris dancer on their feet, "Everything I Do..." had a woodsy quality to it that went well with the Robin Hood flick; it no doubt helped that the gravelly-voiced, lumberjack Bryan Adams was behind it as well. "Love Is All Around" had a triumphant bombast (again, aided in large part to the unsubtle Marti Pellow on vocals) that suited the runaway joy of what is still one the finest rom com's ever made. "Baby I Love Your Way", however, hardly seems to work as part of what is considered to be one of the quintessential Generation X films. Such was it's status as an odd one out that it quickly became overshadowed by Lisa Loeb's "Stay (I Missed You)", which doubtless benefited from the singer-songwriter's unique status as an unsigned act with a number one hit.

Ethan Hawke's Troy is one of those movie characters who seemed to spawn real life imitators, even though he could be an insufferable twit. (Surely I'm not the only one out there who thinks Winona Ryder's Lelania would have been better off had she managed to work things out with Ben Stiller's Michael) Prior to 1994, I wasn't aware of anyone who gave a toss about "selling out"; afterwards, it became a matter of utmost concern to virtually everyone I knew. Kurt Cobain wasn't able to do as much as Troy when it came to a whole generation suddenly becoming scared about our creative endeavours winding up in the hands of corporate elites in exchange for a buck or two. (How glad I am that I have managed to avoid selling out this blog in spite of all the moneyed interests who've been sniffing around) It's strange, then, that a little-known reggae group hailing from San Diego would take their cover of a Peter Frampton number and have it used in a picture all about young people's alienation with the real world. People like Troy who were obsessed with "authenticity" would not have been pleased.

"Baby I Love Your Way" is one of those songs that seems to have lasted in spite of its overall lack of quality. While it gave its composer a sizable hit when plucked from his staggeringly successful Frampton Comes Alive concert set, it really wouldn't become a rock standard until Miami dance act Will to Power merged it with Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Freebird" on a memorable, if tasteless, medley at the end of 1988. Funnily enough, it was the former that came out of it better than the latter in spite of the chasm separating the original versions. This had to have been down to the vocalists: while Suzi Carr sang "Baby..." like she was one of the Wilson sisters from Heart or Taylor Dayne or someone equally competent from the era, longhaired brute Bob Rosenberg had, to quote David Anthony in Smash Hits, a "weedy voice" which did "Freebird" no favours. Imagine my reaction when I finally heard the originals.

Will to Power's version was at best adequate but it gave a second wind to a poor song. Big Mountain's idea of putting it to a reggae backing is so inspired that it's hard to believe no one had thought of it earlier. It sounds like this was how it had been meant to be all along. It probably doesn't hurt that a little ganja would've livened up something so trite. It's easy to picture members of UB-bloody-40 erupting in a jealous rage when they first encountered this record — and, to be sure, they would have messed it up where Big Mountain added some much needed spark and sunshine.

Beyond the three lads in E.Y.C. (I looked it up and it doesn't stand for Excellent Young Cannibals) and a handful of others, Big Mountain's "Baby I Love Your Way" has never been a critical favourite. I can't say I love it either but it deserves a little less scorn. They didn't have much to work with so it's commendable that they were able to get something reasonable out of it. I'm sure Troy from Reality Bites would have ripped into them for allegedly selling out but Michael would've been into it, Lelaina wouldn't have been bothered by it and Vickie and Sammy would've played the hell out of it — and who can blame them?

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

"Absolutely Fabulous"

Not unlike annoying self-titled albums, this Comic Relief single is credited to Absolutely Fabulous, which is also the name of the hit comedy series of the same time and the name of this "song". But I'm just going to mark it down as the title. I would say it saved me the effort of having to type it twice but here I am expending full sentences explaining why. Jennifer Saunders already had experience with Red Nose Day novelty hits but it was Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe who did the heavy lifting in this instance, right down to them plundering lines of Edina and Patsy to fill out the "verses". Complaints about references to "Pump Up the Volume" and "Ride on Time" being dated miss the point: how up on current techno music do you expect a pair of middle-aged drug addicts to be? Not exactly the finest moment for anyone involved but a good time nonetheless — and only slightly ruined by the "lyrics" printed in ver Hits which confirm that it is indeed "dull and soulless dance music" rather than "Donald Saunders dart music" as I had long been convinced. I still prefer it my way.

The Beautiful South: "Everybody's Talkin'"

11 May 1994

"In a rare display of genius, The Beautiful South have traded their over-clever Radio 2 pop vibes for a cover of this atmospheric country tune, once the theme song for the brilliant 60's film Midnight Cowboy."

— Tom Doyle

"In a rare display of genius, the Pet Shop Boys have traded their arch-irony dance-pop vibes for a cover of this glorious country tune, previously a hit for both Elvis Presley and Willie Nelson."

"In a rare display of genius, R.E.M. have traded their jumbled word-salad indie rock vibes for a cover of this pounding singalong of heartbreak, originally done by an ancient American group called The Clique."

"In a rare display of genius, Erasure have traded their overtly philosophical melodrama pop vibes for a jolly E.P. of dancefloor-friendly covers, all first made famous by Swedish quartet ABBA."

Imagine the above being said about "Always on My Mind", "Superman" or ABBA-esque. You may like these singles but I daresay a number of you would take issue with the assertion that they are all examples of "a rare display of genius" on the part of the bands covering them. Sure, Neil Tennant's lyrics can be a little too knowing at times and you have no idea what on earth Michael Stipe is going on about and it wouldn't have killed Andy Bell to have smiled once in a bloody while but these are all relatively minor knocks against otherwise brilliant bands, particularly the Pet Shop Boys and R.E.M.

So, perhaps you'll understand why claiming that a cover version done by a band featuring one of the most formidable songwriting duos in British pop is maybe not quite as complimentary as it initially seems. Like The Housemartins before them, The Beautiful South had not been above doing covers from time to time. Aside from a version of "Girlfriend" (a 1987 hit for Pebbles) on their debut album Welcome to the Beautiful South, the bulk of their reinterpretations ended up on B-sides. And they did a pretty good job of them. Womack & Womack's "Love Wars" is stripped of its eighties' production and gospel backing in favour of a Motown-ish treatment that is impossible to dislike, while Paul Heaton does gives one of his most impassioned vocals on Bill Withers' "You Just Can't Smile It Away".

But up until this point Beautiful South singles had been the exclusive domain of Heaton and co-songwriter David Rotheray. Yet the mega-hits were beginning to dry up. After hitting the ground running with three of their first four singles all cracking the Top 10, their subsequent chart placements of forty-three, fifty-one, twenty-two, thirty, sixteen, forty-six and twenty-three reflected their much more selective appeal. In need of a hit? Nothing beats a cynical and utterly unnecessary cover version!

There are probably two reasons why "Everybody's Talkin'" makes sense, at least in terms of them bothering to record it. First, it's an effective way of putting the spotlight on newcomer Jacqueline Abbott, who had only recently replaced Briana Corrigan as the group's female singer. While some found the Ulster singer's squeaky voice to be riveting (this humble blogger included) she wasn't quite to everyone's taste. Corrigan helped make some of their wonderful early kitchen sink dramas but in Abbott The Beautiful South had a girl who wasn't going to take shit from no one.

The other thing "Everybody's Talkin'" has going for it was that it could pad out an album that really needed it. While Miaow isn't without its merits, clearly substandard work managed to make it past the editing process. The bitterly anti-war closing track "Poppy" may be the group's worst effort in their first ten years as a going concern while "Hooligans Don't Hall in Love" isn't a whole lot better. Elsewhere, a lack of meaning drags things down: the deep cut "Tattoo" sounds quite nice until you realise that whatever it is that Heaton is trying to communicate goes way over your head. While the superior B-sides "Love Adjourned" and "Size" could have found a home on their fourth album, there were plenty of stinkers to remove rather than their cover of a Harry Nilsson standard.

Oh, and while we're on the subject, there's something kind of funny about covering a song associated with a guy who didn't even write it himself. ("In a rare display of genius, Nilsson has traded his sub-Beatle-esque doodles, for a some dashing outlaw country and western fun, the product of some bloke called Fred Neil, who happens to be fond of dolphins.") "Everybody's Talkin'" managed to give him a major hit but it also proved to be a millstone, as was future smash "Without You" which was written by Pete Ham and Tom Evans of Badfinger. Nilsson's own considerable talents as a songwriter would be overshadowed by the pair of signature hits which happened to be written by others.

It wasn't as though critics were unaware of Heaton's own abilities as a songsmith. Many of the same hacks who praised the likes of "Happy Hour", "Think for a Minute", "Five Get Over Excited" and "Me and the Farmer" were quick to disown the author of "Song for Whoever", "A Little Time", "Old Red Eyes Is Back" and "Good as Gold (Stupid as Mud)". The Beautiful South were "soft", you see. It mattered little that they had songs about breakups, cheating, alcoholism, domestic violence, the elderly (Miaow's third single "Prettiest Eyes" rivals John Prine's "Hello in There" and Neil Young's "Old Man") but none of this seemed to matter to the music press who viewed Heaton's new project as no more creatively relevant than Simply Red. They were the Pet Shop Boys you couldn't dance to long before people pretended this had actually been The Smiths all along but this, too, mattered little. Fans who sang Housemartins songs on football terraces also abandoned ver South.

"36d" represents the moment that everyone was allowed to turn on them. As just about everyone concerned will now acknowledge, it was a clumsy attempt at taking on the so-called lad mags and Page 3 girls. While I would argue that the message that there is far more to these young women than images of them without any clothes on is clear, Heaton could have taken on the publishers and those who truly objectify women rather than accusing them of using their "poses" to "turn the passive into maniacs". Lesser groups might not have recovered from this debacle.

And this is what we were on the cusp of just as we were approaching the midway point of 1994: by year's end, The Beautiful South would be the biggest band in Britain. All those songs people kind of liked but never got round to buying, all those killer videos on the TV, all those minor hits teenagers and their parents all suddenly wanted to have in their CD collections, it all erupted into the surprise Christmas season album smash. Everyone pined for a new Stone Roses LP until one finally arrived when most decided to sod it. The Beatles at the BBC was swiftly snapped up but more out of a sense of duty than anything else. The must have item fell to Carry On Up the Charts. In Canada, we got it a month later so it acted as a reward for killing it on my social studies diploma exam. (We were further rewarded in my homeland with two extra cuts on the compilation as well as a pair of extras on the limited edition bonus disc which accompanied it: our COUTC is better than yours)

In truth, The Beautiful South were already beginning to move past their great period by the time of Miaow and Carry On Up the Charts. The humour, irony, poignancy, darkness and grotesque portraits were being left behind in favour of a more formulaic approach. Every Beautiful South album had a song about being a heavy drinker and each one had one about loving a woman who was gaining weight. Sometimes these tunes were great but just them always being there began to get tiresome. I'd buy an album like Quench out of loyalty, listen to it twice, tell people that it's "criminally underrated" — Jesus, I could be a giant git sometimes — and then go back to playing Choke and 0890 because those are the ones than mean something to me. For others 1994 was a gateway to the best band that no one seemed to like but for me it was the beginning of the end. But they did "From Under the Covers", "I Think the Answer's Yes" and "I'm Your no.1 Fan" so The Beautiful South will always have a special place in my heart. Their genius was anything but rare.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Salt 'N' Pepa: "Shoop"

So, I haven't brought up the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame lately. Yeah, I used to discuss it quite a bit in this space, didn't I? The recent addition of Mary J. Blige to the "hallowed" Cleveland hall made me think about those who I think are far more worthy than her. Usually when someone of colour gets inducted there's always cries of "But is this person really rock and roll?" but I prefer building up the cases of other multicultural acts instead. TLC belong over Mary J. and her one song that was a big hit but which I no longer have any memory of, as does En Vogue. Plus, these hall turkeys are always so concerned about how "influential" the people they induct are so why not some of these female R&B groups. But let's look no further than Salt 'N' Pepa. And forget that Blige woman, whose name I may or may not be misspelling, how are they any less deserving than bloody Run-DMC? If anything a gem like "Shoop" should really seal it. "Push It" was a big deal back when I was ten or eleven and then there was "Let's Talk About Sex" which made a considerable "dent" on the public consciousness. "Whatta Man" alongside fellow hall snubs En Vogue remains memorable but "Shoop" could well be their peak. Tough but tender raps, vaguely threatening but lots of fun and a welcome reminder there really wasn't anyone out there like them. They deserve my due, yours and an honour from that silly old hall with all their "influential" bands. Rant over.

Shalamar: "Dead Giveaway"

26 May 1983

"Keep breathing British air, Jeffrey, the inspiration's mutual."

— Gary Kemp

Recalling those final, painful days at the Melody Maker in a recent Chart Music podcast, guest Sarah Bee mentions overseeing the legendary paper's singles review page with a variety of acts brought in give their thoughts on the latest batch of pop records. "It was always really interesting to hear musicians talk about other musicians and their work", she says, maybe a little generously. "There was such a spectrum of how they'd approach it: some would be very offhand and others would get really nerdy and others were twats, of course. You always get twats."

We're a good ways away yet from twat pop stars coming in to review the Smash Hits singles but the guest critic was always a mixed bag. Some clearly took the task far too seriously, while others — as Bee mentions — couldn't have given less of a shit. Of more significance, however, is that few had much to say. (Chart Music host Al Needham asks Bee who was the worst group she dealt with in her role and she chose the Ben Folds Five for their surly demeanour and utter lack of insight) We'll come across several pop stars covering very much the same spectrum that Bee talks about but sadly few who manage to transcend the novelty.

Spandau Ballet songwriter, guitarist and singer Gary Kemp sits in as singles reviewer this fortnight and it's a cracker. Not, mind you, because he picked the best record on offer (even though he did), nor because he's a brilliant writer (although he does rather well in that regard) but due to some very thoughtful comments that never occurred to me before. The Style Council's "Money-Go-Round" reminds him of a "cockney Gil Scott Heron", while of Michael Jackson's "Wanna Be Startin' Something" he notes that "it's strange how you don't always appreciate tracks so much until they're sitting on seven inch vinyl". Of Spear of Destiny's "The Wheel", he points out that it's a rare guitar track that could wind up a sizable club hit — something I'm inclined to agree with and I don't even like it. Then there's the above quote that concludes his SOTF review of Shalamar's "Dead Giveaway".

African American musicians have been transplanting to Europe for the better part of a century. Trumpeter Bill Coleman was among the first, recognising that he was being treated with far more respect in France than in his homeland. With jazz's appeal in the States on the wane after the Second World War, there became an increasing financial incentive to settle across the Atlantic. Ben Webster, Bud Powell, Dexter Gordon, Chet Baker and Don Cherry were among the stars who made either a permanent or long-term move to Europe. The practise became a little less common in the rock era but Jimi Hendrix was a fixture of swinging London, Marvin Gaye lived for a time in Belgium and Tina Turner is now a Swiss citizen. Quite whether the members of Shalamar ever contemplated uprooting themselves to Britain is something I am in no position to answer and I'm not even sure if they did any recording there but Kemp seems to think that the UK was doing them some good and I suspect for more than just the financial benefit.

Beginning perhaps with Northern soul, black American acts began to figure out that there were appreciative audiences in Britain where few-to-none existed back home. Much as Kemp enjoyed their previous album Friends, it was West Coast soul-funk record in a world of West Coast soul-funk records. "Dead Giveaway", as well as much of its parent album The Look, seems to be more the result of playing intense shows in York, Blackpool and Southampton in which Jody Watley would be rendered near-hoarse, Jeffery Daniel would be soaked in sweat and Howard Hewett would be replacing guitar strings on a nightly basis.

The mutual inspiration Kemp talks about is that Britain gave a shot of adrenaline to the members of Shalamar while upping the creative stakes for bands all over the country. Established acts such as Imagination, JoBoxers and, yes, ver Spands could only look on in awe at how Daniel, Hewett and Watley were able to whip crowds into a frenzy. The sort of act everyone could learn from.

So, Shalamar had another hit single in the can and had found a new life in the UK. A shame, then, that it was all about to implode as Daniel and Watley were soon to depart, wasting the momentum that had been building. If only they'd taken Kemp's advice to keep breathing in the British air.

Smash Hits was obviously pleased enough with Kemp that they would eventually ask him to come back to review the singles again, this time with his brother Martin along. For his part, Kemp seemed to have sufficiently enjoyed the task to give it another go. Only a select number of pop stars returned to the singles review chair with only one twat among them. Sit tight readers.

Postscript

I would discover a year and a half after originally publishing my review of "Dead Giveaway" that Gary Kemp's outstanding review gig was not to be repeated when he teamed with brother and fellow Spand Martin. Some of my theories behind quite why he wasn't up to the task are dealt with in my piece on It's Immaterial's "Space" (Gazza's pick) and Lionel Ritchie's "Love Will Conquer All" (Martin's). But it's also worth noting that most of those who returned to the singles review guest spot weren't quite the same as they had been the first time round. Having seemed to be having a laugh in the role in the autumn of '87, Robert Smith returned three years later and was bitter and judgemental. He was not unlike his longtime nemesis Morrissey except far less entertaining as a grumpy old git. For his part, Matt Goss actually managed to do better on his own than when alongside Luke and Ken: rather than ranting about how everyone bashes them for being successful, he instead chose to listen to the records he was given and then gave his impressions. How novel. It's not an interesting read by any stretch of the imagination but he did what was asked of him and that's fine by me. The only one of the four who returned as guest reviewer who did just about the same both times is Dave Gahan of Depeche Mode. He stayed away from being philosophical, he didn't give anyone bonus points for being a struggling indie act that no one wanted to listen to and didn't have an ax to grind. All he did was evaluate the records as best he could. This is probably the best that can be expected of a pop star masquerading as a pop critic.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Michael Jackson: "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'"

There are the songs everyone remembers — "Billie Jean", "Beat It", the title track, even "The Girl Is Mine" which is one that many wish they could forget — but for my money the real highlights of Michael Jackson's global smash Thriller are the likes of "P.Y.T.", "Human Nature" and "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'", the hits that are seldom mentioned anymore. They didn't have groudbreaking, eighteen minute videos nor heavy hitter guest stars from the world of rock but they had those sweet, infectious grooves that no one did better. "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" is not unlike those fantastic tracks on the first side of his true masterpiece Off the Wall. You'd be tempted to knock him for the simplicity of his work but who else was doing it this well? Shalamar on their best day couldn't come close and I'm not knocking them. And, yes, Gary's absolutely right that this is the sort of thing that works even better as a single in its own right than as the opening cut off of the hit-packed Thriller. I suppose you're more likely to notice it when there aren't eight other potential hits competing for your attention.

(Click here to see my original review)

East 17: "Around the World"

27 April 1994

"Never, ever has a single deserved to be number one as much as this one does."

— Leesa Daniels

A slight exaggeration perhaps. "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "Penny Lane" deserved it more. "Up the Junction" just as much. I imagine there are a few others but damned if I can think of them. Oh right, there's that fuss everyone in the UK makes at Christmastime over the fact that "Fairytale of New York" failed to nab the top spot back in '87 so I guess it can take its place on here as well. As I say, I'm sure there are a few others but I agree with Leesa Daniels that the latest from East 17 is one of them. It isn't simply a matter of it deserving a chart topper however; "Around the World" also feels like a number one smash.

The boy band ballad is normally a blot on what are frankly not particularly outstanding discographies to begin with. I remember coming back to Canada from our year in England to the New Kids on the Block phenomenon. I wasn't convinced by them but at least I could understand what girls around my age saw in the likes of "You Got It (The Right Stuff)" and "Cover Girl" but when it came to weepies like "Please Don't Go Girl" and "I'll Be Loving You (Forever)" I could see no merit whatsoever. You could always count on a sickly ballad to occasionally spoil Take That's otherwise impressive run of stellar singles. And don't get me started on all those horrible all-male US R&B acts of the era. 

But East 17 seemed suited to the slower grooves on "Deep" and "Around the World" while more uptempo selections like "House of Love" and "It's Alright" only exposed them as way out of Take That's league. Part of the key to their success may have been due to not getting too soft even when tackling more laid back material. Tony Mortimer's raps are better suited to the slower-paced numbers and there's greater overall space available for some fine Brian Harvey singing and even a separate rap from lesser 'Teen Tony Coldwell, a man who happens to be the last remaining original member of the group as they perform at nostalgia fests and pop-themed cruise ships near you (probably). Their livelier stuff just seems too crammed with production tricks to worry about getting to the talents of the guys in the group.

Thematically, "Around the World" is not unlike Slade's superb melancholic hit "Far, Far Away" from their still brilliant film Flame. Musically speaking, they're nothing alike but both are about the thrill of being on the road while also being dragged down by it. The Slade song comes from around the time that their imperial period in the early seventies was winding down which may explain why it's considerably more downbeat than what they were usually capable of. But there's not even a faint sense of depression present in regards to East 17. The lyrics read like they've taken a year-long trip around the globe and they're just about ready to head back home.

The one part of the world East 17 didn't seem to be venturing to was North America. The very idea of the Walthamstow quartet cracking the US wasn't even taken seriously while they were enjoying success just about everywhere else. Last week I discussed Eternal's mostly aborted attempt to break into the American market but at least they had that chance; as far as Britain's second biggest boy band was concerned it wasn't even seriously contemplated. Yet, a record like "Around the World" seems like it could have done well over there, perhaps even more so than the equally unloved and unknown — in the States at any rate — "Stay Another Day". Sure, Americans had no use for boy bands in this post-NKOTB, pre-Backstreet Boys void but who could resist casual raps, a glorious melody and some sugar-sweet vocals? 

The one knock I have (aside from them overdoing it on repeated choruses near the end: seriously, wrap it up boys) is Daniels' confident claim that East 17 were Britain's best band. I mean, I kind of like her saying it but timing is everything and she was about to look silly. In the issue following this one there's a review by Mark Sutherland of a new release that was named that fortnight's Best New Album. For many in Britain — and, indeed, quite a few of us elsewhere — it would end up being the album of the year. Blur's Parklife ushered in the Britpop movement which I will admit I have mixed feelings about. Yet, it was — and remains — a revelation. Playfully jumping around from style to style, lots of fun character songs and with far more heart than what they were generally credited with having — and, crucially, it was packed with potential hits. There may have been a bit of a lull in indie rock following the demise of Madchester and the stale state of the bulk of Shoegaze but the guitar bands were back. Good as they may have been, a group like East 17 just wasn't going to be able to cut it for much longer. But at least they got themselves a Christmas Number One in before their inevitable slide down the dumper — and one that just about makes up for this one coming up short.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Beck: "Pay No Mind (Snoozer)"

I get the feeling Daniels isn't into all this indie rubbish. Quite right too, at least in this instance. Like Bowie and Prince before him, Beck was the sort of single-minded individual who you could always admire even if you didn't love absolutely everything he ever recorded. To wit. Our good reviewer is bored stiff by the whole affair but there's an equally important element that she has missed: it sucks. Beck has never been the greatest vocalist out there but he is in particularly weak form on this occasion. It might have been fine as some deep cut filler for breakthrough album Mellow Gold but "Pay No Mind" has no business as a single. No one absolutely no one bought it. The slacker musical maverick really grabbed attention during this time but he didn't really come into his own until the audacious Midnite Vultures and the tender Sea Change, when he actually seemed to care about what he was doing as opposed to this pathetic nonsense.