— 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 and with only one twat among them. Sit tight readers.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
David Bowie: "China Girl"
Kemp admits that he didn't get a chance to listen to this one, figuring that the Hits brass assumed he'd already heard it on the album Let's Dance. (To be fair, it was probably the last David Bowie LP that you could take for granted that people in the business would be familiar with) It's now been two years since the death of Dame David and the reverence with which he is spoken of hasn't subsided. And they're probably right to do so. He had a tremendous run of singles from "Space Oddity" to "Ashes to Ashes" with some pretty great albums thrown in too. He was also an artist's artist and a musician's musician: even if you didn't happen to care for every twist and turn in his lengthy career, you had to admire him for trying. Not so much here but still. A boring record by Iggy Pop standards a half-dozen years earlier, it replaces the original's sleaze for sophistication but not to better results. I suppose it's a production tour-de-force from Nile Rodgers even if those Asian rhythms are a cliché and were more charmingly used by Buck Owens on "Made in Japan". Bowie should really have been paying attention to Shalamar: the inspiration might have done him good.
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 and with only one twat among them. Sit tight readers.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
David Bowie: "China Girl"
Kemp admits that he didn't get a chance to listen to this one, figuring that the Hits brass assumed he'd already heard it on the album Let's Dance. (To be fair, it was probably the last David Bowie LP that you could take for granted that people in the business would be familiar with) It's now been two years since the death of Dame David and the reverence with which he is spoken of hasn't subsided. And they're probably right to do so. He had a tremendous run of singles from "Space Oddity" to "Ashes to Ashes" with some pretty great albums thrown in too. He was also an artist's artist and a musician's musician: even if you didn't happen to care for every twist and turn in his lengthy career, you had to admire him for trying. Not so much here but still. A boring record by Iggy Pop standards a half-dozen years earlier, it replaces the original's sleaze for sophistication but not to better results. I suppose it's a production tour-de-force from Nile Rodgers even if those Asian rhythms are a cliché and were more charmingly used by Buck Owens on "Made in Japan". Bowie should really have been paying attention to Shalamar: the inspiration might have done him good.
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