— Tom Hibbert
This fortnight's singles review page in ver Hits is significant for three reasons. First (admittedly only of significance for the purposes of this blog) is the appearance of the words 'Single Of The Fortnight' at the conclusion of the headline review. Second (of much more significance to the Smash Hits world in general) is the debut in the critics' chair of Tom Hibbert, one of Britain's top pop mag's most colourful figures. Finally, the star single is by Big Country, making this the first SOTF from the sub-genre of eighties stadium rock (this is of very minimal significance for this blog and for the Hits but it's worth bringing up for one reason that I'll touch upon below).
Yes, VER HITS celebrates the Smash Hits Singles of the Fortnight and it's been going for just over a year now (don't worry, I wasn't expecting any messages of congratulations for hitting this first anniversary) but this is the very first time that the words themselves were printed. Tom Hibbert is usually credited with creating much of the unique Hits vocabulary ('What the Jiggins...?', which would eventually morph into 'juggins' and take up use on this very blog, was among the many Hibbertisms that I plan to explore in a future post) but doesn't seem to be acknowledged as a pioneer of the singles page. Well, he certainly is here. All hail Hibbs!
Tom Hibbert is one of those music journalists who take on an aura among readers as kind of a rock star himself. Not unlike Lester Bangs and Nick Kent, he seemed to live out his fantasies as a wannabe pop star through his writing; unlike those two, however, this meant silly reviews, irreverent interviews and curious status as the letters page dean known as Black Type, rather than tense confrontations with Lou Reed and shooting up with Sid Vicious. Hibbert anointed pop stars with ludicrous names which couldn't have been more accurate (rather appropriately, Big Country, the "subject" of this week's entry, had one such christened member, drummer Mark Unpronounceable Name), baited readers with cryptic replies to their (mostly) thoughtfully considered correspondence and may have used his criticism in order to take the mickey out of readers.
I can't prove that last one — I can't just yet at any rate — but I first began to suspect it when I went about cataloguing the Singles of the Fortnight and happened to notice that he picked Big Country. Big Country? Eighties Scots rockers who made bagpipes even less cool? Oh Hibbs, surely you're taking the piss.
Well, probably not. While the boys in plaid had their share of duff moments this isn't one of them. "Chance" is, as Hibbert points out, as Springsteen as you can possibly imagine — and, if anything, more Springsteen than Springsteen at the time when you consider that his most recent work had our Bruce lay down tracks with just an acoustic guitar onto a glorified tape recorder, a world away from the overstuffed pomposity of Born to Run (not to mention what he'd be putting out less than a year later). There's room for subtlety here. Where The E Street Band would have doubtless turned this into a concert favourite, Stuart Adamson's approach would have driven punters into a similar frenzy while retaining an individualism that could touch lowly, friendless types in Dundee council flats. A fine single that isn't really my cup of tea but one I can appreciate on its own terms nonetheless.
(Considering the tragedy that would eventually befall Stuart Adamson, it's easy to read way too much into a number like "Chance". That said, his suicide nearly twenty years later only makes lines such as "Oh Lord, where did the feeling go? / Oh Lord, I never felt so low" that much more touching and resonant)
The first stadium rock number to get a SOTF, "Chance" signals a coming roots rock revival that would culminate with the eventual rise of U2 and coincide with the end of New Pop, then dominant in the British music scene. And all because of a mischievous scamp reviewing the singles who couldn't help but take the piss. Even when he wasn't.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Culture Club: "Karma Chameleon"
Big Country's ascension spells the end of New Pop? Well, the beginning of the end maybe? Nah, that's all a bunch of rubbish. Truth is, "Karma Chameleon" is the pinnacle of the early-eighties' UK pop boom. The fact that it's seldom played anymore — retro nights and period radio shows tend to opt for the slightly inferior "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me" — shouldn't undercut just what a massive hit it was all over the world in 1983 and '84. I loved it then and still do even if I'll admit that Hibbert has a point with his minor quibbles. Yeah, the harmonica player does get in the way at times, Boy George was indeed a lousy dancer and the use of 'karma' is way too much of a seventies throwback to "My Sweet Lord" and "Instant Karma" and pathetic self-help nonsense from the time. Whatsmore, people still go on about bloody karma to this day. But at least Boy George got all that Eastern stuff out of his system, right?
This fortnight's singles review page in ver Hits is significant for three reasons. First (admittedly only of significance for the purposes of this blog) is the appearance of the words 'Single Of The Fortnight' at the conclusion of the headline review. Second (of much more significance to the Smash Hits world in general) is the debut in the critics' chair of Tom Hibbert, one of Britain's top pop mag's most colourful figures. Finally, the star single is by Big Country, making this the first SOTF from the sub-genre of eighties stadium rock (this is of very minimal significance for this blog and for the Hits but it's worth bringing up for one reason that I'll touch upon below).
Yes, VER HITS celebrates the Smash Hits Singles of the Fortnight and it's been going for just over a year now (don't worry, I wasn't expecting any messages of congratulations for hitting this first anniversary) but this is the very first time that the words themselves were printed. Tom Hibbert is usually credited with creating much of the unique Hits vocabulary ('What the Jiggins...?', which would eventually morph into 'juggins' and take up use on this very blog, was among the many Hibbertisms that I plan to explore in a future post) but doesn't seem to be acknowledged as a pioneer of the singles page. Well, he certainly is here. All hail Hibbs!
Tom Hibbert is one of those music journalists who take on an aura among readers as kind of a rock star himself. Not unlike Lester Bangs and Nick Kent, he seemed to live out his fantasies as a wannabe pop star through his writing; unlike those two, however, this meant silly reviews, irreverent interviews and curious status as the letters page dean known as Black Type, rather than tense confrontations with Lou Reed and shooting up with Sid Vicious. Hibbert anointed pop stars with ludicrous names which couldn't have been more accurate (rather appropriately, Big Country, the "subject" of this week's entry, had one such christened member, drummer Mark Unpronounceable Name), baited readers with cryptic replies to their (mostly) thoughtfully considered correspondence and may have used his criticism in order to take the mickey out of readers.
I can't prove that last one — I can't just yet at any rate — but I first began to suspect it when I went about cataloguing the Singles of the Fortnight and happened to notice that he picked Big Country. Big Country? Eighties Scots rockers who made bagpipes even less cool? Oh Hibbs, surely you're taking the piss.
Well, probably not. While the boys in plaid had their share of duff moments this isn't one of them. "Chance" is, as Hibbert points out, as Springsteen as you can possibly imagine — and, if anything, more Springsteen than Springsteen at the time when you consider that his most recent work had our Bruce lay down tracks with just an acoustic guitar onto a glorified tape recorder, a world away from the overstuffed pomposity of Born to Run (not to mention what he'd be putting out less than a year later). There's room for subtlety here. Where The E Street Band would have doubtless turned this into a concert favourite, Stuart Adamson's approach would have driven punters into a similar frenzy while retaining an individualism that could touch lowly, friendless types in Dundee council flats. A fine single that isn't really my cup of tea but one I can appreciate on its own terms nonetheless.
(Considering the tragedy that would eventually befall Stuart Adamson, it's easy to read way too much into a number like "Chance". That said, his suicide nearly twenty years later only makes lines such as "Oh Lord, where did the feeling go? / Oh Lord, I never felt so low" that much more touching and resonant)
The first stadium rock number to get a SOTF, "Chance" signals a coming roots rock revival that would culminate with the eventual rise of U2 and coincide with the end of New Pop, then dominant in the British music scene. And all because of a mischievous scamp reviewing the singles who couldn't help but take the piss. Even when he wasn't.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Culture Club: "Karma Chameleon"
Big Country's ascension spells the end of New Pop? Well, the beginning of the end maybe? Nah, that's all a bunch of rubbish. Truth is, "Karma Chameleon" is the pinnacle of the early-eighties' UK pop boom. The fact that it's seldom played anymore — retro nights and period radio shows tend to opt for the slightly inferior "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me" — shouldn't undercut just what a massive hit it was all over the world in 1983 and '84. I loved it then and still do even if I'll admit that Hibbert has a point with his minor quibbles. Yeah, the harmonica player does get in the way at times, Boy George was indeed a lousy dancer and the use of 'karma' is way too much of a seventies throwback to "My Sweet Lord" and "Instant Karma" and pathetic self-help nonsense from the time. Whatsmore, people still go on about bloody karma to this day. But at least Boy George got all that Eastern stuff out of his system, right?
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