2 February 1984
"And then Ms Mason's strong but silky voice starts to croon the unfortunate tale of how she's realised her man isn't quite the man she thought he was."
— Neil Tennant
"I'm really getting sick of 12" singles", complains Neil Tennant in a review of Nik Kershaw's breakthrough (and, it would turn out, signature) hit "Wouldn't It Be Good". "I've only got the 12" version of this and it seems to drone on forever". Hear, hear, Neil. I've already gone into detail about my contempt for pointless extended mixes of pop songs and this is a prime example. The 7" mix isn't brilliant — it's the sort of song that always sounds better when I hum the tune to myself than when I actually listen to the bloody thing — and, clocking in as it does at four and a half minutes, already a bit too long but hardly the sort of thing that can be improved upon with a longer running time. If anything, its seven minutes only makes it seem slower and more meandering and, yes, more droning.
Now, apart from my surprise that a dance music fanatic as Tennant would express such derision for the medium of extended mixes, this observation seems especially surprising in light of his chosen SOTF. Where Kershaw's record works even less well in its longer form, Barbara Mason's "Another Man" is a whole other beast in its 12" girth. The single edit kicks in her vocal far too early and leaves out a pretty vital spoken-word part towards the end. Given that Tennant first describes the "tough, monotonous, electronic bassline" followed by "some delicious chords" it seems likely that he had the long version to go by. Handy, too, for working out the song's dark core.
Tennant seems to know what "Another Man" is really about but its meaning was initially lost on myself and virtually everyone who left a comment on YouTube. I originally thought that our Barb's had enough of the philandering loser she's been seeing and so she's gone off and found herself a new guy who totally won't mess her around this time. Turns out, this other man in her life is the one her boyfriend's been fooling around with on the down low. Not the sort of subject matter eighties soul music typically dealt with but one that deserved to be tackled.
As a sequel to Mason's 1981 single "She's Got the Papers (But I Got the Man)", the once smug protagonist who snatched a guy a away from a rival is having to eat her words with the humbling experience of catching him hand-in-hand with another man down Market Street ("and you all know where Market Street is"). A lot of innuendo is present, some of which are very a much a product of the times ("I had gone out one day and bought me a very, very sexy dress / And opened up my closet and it had disappeared": just the fact that a pop song goes to such lengths to suggest a link between homosexuality and cross-dressing is indicative of something, right?; she also suggests that his suddenly high-pitched voice might be a defect of some kind). But Barb's humiliation isn't without humour ("And I passed him on the steps one day / And he was switichin' more than I was") Not exactly an endorsement of same-sex tolerance but probably a realistic account of what goes on in the mind of a woman whose husband is out searching for some rough trade.
Good on Barbara Mason and her studio cohorts to leave me feeling empathetic though not quite sympathetic to her situation. Even once you've managed to work out what it's about, it isn't quite the record you thought it was.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Nena: "99 Red Balloons"
Speaking of not quite getting the point of a song, a friend once informed me that this record is about condoms but maybe he was just struck by the come hither looks of Nena singer Nena. Either way it's all very 1984: instead of alluding to the AIDS crisis we have the threat of nuclear war. Most seem to prefer the original sung in the group's native German but I've always been partial to the English translation that topped both the British and Canadian charts. In truth, the two act independently of one another in a way that "Sie Liebt Dich" and "La Reina del Baile" could never exist apart from "She Loves You" and "Dancing Queen". Perhaps the less literal, more poetic translation helps. The Germans, for one, would never have confused it for a song about contraception.
"I'm really getting sick of 12" singles", complains Neil Tennant in a review of Nik Kershaw's breakthrough (and, it would turn out, signature) hit "Wouldn't It Be Good". "I've only got the 12" version of this and it seems to drone on forever". Hear, hear, Neil. I've already gone into detail about my contempt for pointless extended mixes of pop songs and this is a prime example. The 7" mix isn't brilliant — it's the sort of song that always sounds better when I hum the tune to myself than when I actually listen to the bloody thing — and, clocking in as it does at four and a half minutes, already a bit too long but hardly the sort of thing that can be improved upon with a longer running time. If anything, its seven minutes only makes it seem slower and more meandering and, yes, more droning.
Now, apart from my surprise that a dance music fanatic as Tennant would express such derision for the medium of extended mixes, this observation seems especially surprising in light of his chosen SOTF. Where Kershaw's record works even less well in its longer form, Barbara Mason's "Another Man" is a whole other beast in its 12" girth. The single edit kicks in her vocal far too early and leaves out a pretty vital spoken-word part towards the end. Given that Tennant first describes the "tough, monotonous, electronic bassline" followed by "some delicious chords" it seems likely that he had the long version to go by. Handy, too, for working out the song's dark core.
Tennant seems to know what "Another Man" is really about but its meaning was initially lost on myself and virtually everyone who left a comment on YouTube. I originally thought that our Barb's had enough of the philandering loser she's been seeing and so she's gone off and found herself a new guy who totally won't mess her around this time. Turns out, this other man in her life is the one her boyfriend's been fooling around with on the down low. Not the sort of subject matter eighties soul music typically dealt with but one that deserved to be tackled.
As a sequel to Mason's 1981 single "She's Got the Papers (But I Got the Man)", the once smug protagonist who snatched a guy a away from a rival is having to eat her words with the humbling experience of catching him hand-in-hand with another man down Market Street ("and you all know where Market Street is"). A lot of innuendo is present, some of which are very a much a product of the times ("I had gone out one day and bought me a very, very sexy dress / And opened up my closet and it had disappeared": just the fact that a pop song goes to such lengths to suggest a link between homosexuality and cross-dressing is indicative of something, right?; she also suggests that his suddenly high-pitched voice might be a defect of some kind). But Barb's humiliation isn't without humour ("And I passed him on the steps one day / And he was switichin' more than I was") Not exactly an endorsement of same-sex tolerance but probably a realistic account of what goes on in the mind of a woman whose husband is out searching for some rough trade.
Good on Barbara Mason and her studio cohorts to leave me feeling empathetic though not quite sympathetic to her situation. Even once you've managed to work out what it's about, it isn't quite the record you thought it was.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Nena: "99 Red Balloons"
Speaking of not quite getting the point of a song, a friend once informed me that this record is about condoms but maybe he was just struck by the come hither looks of Nena singer Nena. Either way it's all very 1984: instead of alluding to the AIDS crisis we have the threat of nuclear war. Most seem to prefer the original sung in the group's native German but I've always been partial to the English translation that topped both the British and Canadian charts. In truth, the two act independently of one another in a way that "Sie Liebt Dich" and "La Reina del Baile" could never exist apart from "She Loves You" and "Dancing Queen". Perhaps the less literal, more poetic translation helps. The Germans, for one, would never have confused it for a song about contraception.
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