— Lesley White
It's been about twenty years now since reports began to emerge about a sextet of Americans from the south who were calling themselves 'Frankie Goes to Hollywood'. Led by Davey Johnson, who sometimes claimed to be Holly Johnson's brother, they were said to be an authentic continuation of of the unforgettable eighties Liverpool outfit even though (a) they had Dixie accents, (b) members of the original Frankie most certainly didn't and (c) they were absolute crap — a claim I feel very comfortable making despite having never heard them. If the 'New Frankie Goes to Hollywood Featuring Davey Johnson' (as they were also known as) had a talent it was their ability to fabricate their origin story, to double-down on it when called out and to alter it as time went on — not unlike a certain American president, as a matter of fact. I first became aware of them when "Johnson" was interviewed on the news to promote their show in Calgary. His "brother" Holly, he told a naive TV reporter, was unwell at the moment but they were hoping he'd be able to join them on tour at some point. Later, they seemed to drop Davey's familial relationship but then began claiming that some of them were uncredited sessioners on Frankie's debut album Welcome to the Pleasuredome. When called out by everyone from the media to former members of the original group, their manager put forth the dubious theory that because most of the group never actually played on their records, they weren't a real group and, thus, their name was up for grabs. Amazingly, this convinced precisely no one and the group presumably went back to Alabama where they are now known as 'Milli Vanilli Mark 2'. Probably.
The above anecdote isn't terribly relevant to this week's entry but for what it must have been like to have seen The New Frankie Goes to Hollywood. "Relax" made it into the top ten in North America (helped along no doubt by the famous t-shirts) and "Two Tribes" did okay too so Davey and his fellow fraudulent Frankies would have been forced to recreate those two numbers as well as they could but what else would have made it into their setlist? "Welcome to the Pleasuredome"? "Rage Hard"? "Warriors of the Wasteland"? Would the good people of Tulsa and Jacksonville and Calgary have known just how many old UK hits were being excluded? And did old Davey even know more than two Frankie songs? That they admitted to heading in the direction of rock (not a surprise given that they looked like Sugar Ray covers band) and played "C-grade Bryan Adams-type fare" makes me suspect that more obscure FGTH numbers weren't a priority. They were more likely to tackle Huey Lewis' "Power of Love" than their namesakes'.
No one would have known it at the time but 1984 was pretty much the end of New Pop. True, most of the big acts were still around but many were clinging to success rather than basking in it. The likes of ABC, The Human League and Madness began to discover their knack for top ten hits coming up short, their loyal and sizable fanbases still managing to keep them chart relevant. Pin-ups Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet found themselves drifting creatively, the former trying a bit too hard to keep things fresh while the latter nosediving into a formulaic funk. Culture Club was no longer able to tap into the zeitgeist and began to look daft. Wham! were at their commercial apogee but at the expense of the luxurious, proletarian charm of their earlier work. Only Frankie Goes to Hollywood proved capable of combining chart dominance with cultural relevance and an ability to get people talking — and they were soon to implode too.
It's fitting, then, that the year closes out with new pop's last hurrah. Had the combined affects of the Ethiopian Civil War, famine and drought not happened, we would have had two main contenders for the Christmas number one both from Britain's pop boom. A maturing Wham! on one side and Frankie Goes to Hollywood, the most shocking mainstream British group since the Sex Pistols, on the other. Both were then riding a wave of massive success and both did so coming out of gay culture. Where George Michael and Andrew Ridgely were moving in the direction of old school Motown and soul, Holly Johnson and his chums used the tabloids and kiddy pop mags (such as ver Hits) in equal measure to stir things up and get noticed. It must've helped that the records were decent too.
Coming in on the heels of the mega-success of "Relax" and "Two Tribes", "The Power of Love" is often forgotten or mentioned as little more than the song that gave the group their third number one on the bounce. Those that have discussed it typically bring up its stately nature which flew in the face of its predecessors; the only thing shocking about it was that it didn't shock anyone. Lesley White expresses relief that they chose to "take a welcome break from the cynical business of controversy-stirring to deliver a tender little love song" and is impressed that Holly Johnson "bust[s] a gut to sound achingly sincere". This is true but perhaps they were going for a bit of subtlety for once. That the song opens with a promise to "protect you from the Hooded Claw" indicates that we're not so far from the absurd and a later invocation to "flame on burn desire / love with tongues of fire" betrays the overall piety, particularly alongside the more-than-a little-camp nativity scene depicted in the video. Love and lust complimenting each other, just as the baby Jesus would have wanted.
Rather surprisingly, "The Power of Love" isn't belittled as a cynical holiday cash-in. The fact that Christmas isn't mentioned probably helps but that also hinders its subsequent status as a festive favourite thirty-five years on. Sure, it still appears of UK-centric Christmas compilations but frequently as an add-on, a reminder of just what Band Aid and Wham! had to try to overcome. It may light up a wedding, get everyone crying at a funeral or put a pair of lovers in the mood for a little sexual congress but it doesn't get you in the Christmas spirit. Few songs do.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Wham!: "Last Christmas"
Far more of a seasonal favourite than "The Power of Love", "Last Christmas" lost the battle (although that ended up being to Band Aid, Frankie's hit having already peaked and fallen by Christmas Day) but ended up winning the war as it is now effectively a modern day Christmas carol - not to mention a much more likely candidate for an interpretation by Des O'Connor. As always, it is beautifully sung by George Michael but sadly free of humour, setting a worrying precedent for the singer's upcoming solo career. (I'm well-aware that it wouldn't have achieved classic status had the song's story of returning love the way others might return a gift on Boxing Day had been comically built upon but that's the kind of sucker for silly seasonal tunes I am) Again, not one for getting me into the spirit of Christmas but effective for winding the holidays down: belly stretched to its limits and in that woozy haze of too much turkey and wine and a family member says, "well, that's it for another year" and you get all maudlin and "Last Christmas" becomes the song you've got to have on.
It's been about twenty years now since reports began to emerge about a sextet of Americans from the south who were calling themselves 'Frankie Goes to Hollywood'. Led by Davey Johnson, who sometimes claimed to be Holly Johnson's brother, they were said to be an authentic continuation of of the unforgettable eighties Liverpool outfit even though (a) they had Dixie accents, (b) members of the original Frankie most certainly didn't and (c) they were absolute crap — a claim I feel very comfortable making despite having never heard them. If the 'New Frankie Goes to Hollywood Featuring Davey Johnson' (as they were also known as) had a talent it was their ability to fabricate their origin story, to double-down on it when called out and to alter it as time went on — not unlike a certain American president, as a matter of fact. I first became aware of them when "Johnson" was interviewed on the news to promote their show in Calgary. His "brother" Holly, he told a naive TV reporter, was unwell at the moment but they were hoping he'd be able to join them on tour at some point. Later, they seemed to drop Davey's familial relationship but then began claiming that some of them were uncredited sessioners on Frankie's debut album Welcome to the Pleasuredome. When called out by everyone from the media to former members of the original group, their manager put forth the dubious theory that because most of the group never actually played on their records, they weren't a real group and, thus, their name was up for grabs. Amazingly, this convinced precisely no one and the group presumably went back to Alabama where they are now known as 'Milli Vanilli Mark 2'. Probably.
The above anecdote isn't terribly relevant to this week's entry but for what it must have been like to have seen The New Frankie Goes to Hollywood. "Relax" made it into the top ten in North America (helped along no doubt by the famous t-shirts) and "Two Tribes" did okay too so Davey and his fellow fraudulent Frankies would have been forced to recreate those two numbers as well as they could but what else would have made it into their setlist? "Welcome to the Pleasuredome"? "Rage Hard"? "Warriors of the Wasteland"? Would the good people of Tulsa and Jacksonville and Calgary have known just how many old UK hits were being excluded? And did old Davey even know more than two Frankie songs? That they admitted to heading in the direction of rock (not a surprise given that they looked like Sugar Ray covers band) and played "C-grade Bryan Adams-type fare" makes me suspect that more obscure FGTH numbers weren't a priority. They were more likely to tackle Huey Lewis' "Power of Love" than their namesakes'.
No one would have known it at the time but 1984 was pretty much the end of New Pop. True, most of the big acts were still around but many were clinging to success rather than basking in it. The likes of ABC, The Human League and Madness began to discover their knack for top ten hits coming up short, their loyal and sizable fanbases still managing to keep them chart relevant. Pin-ups Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet found themselves drifting creatively, the former trying a bit too hard to keep things fresh while the latter nosediving into a formulaic funk. Culture Club was no longer able to tap into the zeitgeist and began to look daft. Wham! were at their commercial apogee but at the expense of the luxurious, proletarian charm of their earlier work. Only Frankie Goes to Hollywood proved capable of combining chart dominance with cultural relevance and an ability to get people talking — and they were soon to implode too.
It's fitting, then, that the year closes out with new pop's last hurrah. Had the combined affects of the Ethiopian Civil War, famine and drought not happened, we would have had two main contenders for the Christmas number one both from Britain's pop boom. A maturing Wham! on one side and Frankie Goes to Hollywood, the most shocking mainstream British group since the Sex Pistols, on the other. Both were then riding a wave of massive success and both did so coming out of gay culture. Where George Michael and Andrew Ridgely were moving in the direction of old school Motown and soul, Holly Johnson and his chums used the tabloids and kiddy pop mags (such as ver Hits) in equal measure to stir things up and get noticed. It must've helped that the records were decent too.
Coming in on the heels of the mega-success of "Relax" and "Two Tribes", "The Power of Love" is often forgotten or mentioned as little more than the song that gave the group their third number one on the bounce. Those that have discussed it typically bring up its stately nature which flew in the face of its predecessors; the only thing shocking about it was that it didn't shock anyone. Lesley White expresses relief that they chose to "take a welcome break from the cynical business of controversy-stirring to deliver a tender little love song" and is impressed that Holly Johnson "bust[s] a gut to sound achingly sincere". This is true but perhaps they were going for a bit of subtlety for once. That the song opens with a promise to "protect you from the Hooded Claw" indicates that we're not so far from the absurd and a later invocation to "flame on burn desire / love with tongues of fire" betrays the overall piety, particularly alongside the more-than-a little-camp nativity scene depicted in the video. Love and lust complimenting each other, just as the baby Jesus would have wanted.
Rather surprisingly, "The Power of Love" isn't belittled as a cynical holiday cash-in. The fact that Christmas isn't mentioned probably helps but that also hinders its subsequent status as a festive favourite thirty-five years on. Sure, it still appears of UK-centric Christmas compilations but frequently as an add-on, a reminder of just what Band Aid and Wham! had to try to overcome. It may light up a wedding, get everyone crying at a funeral or put a pair of lovers in the mood for a little sexual congress but it doesn't get you in the Christmas spirit. Few songs do.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Wham!: "Last Christmas"
Far more of a seasonal favourite than "The Power of Love", "Last Christmas" lost the battle (although that ended up being to Band Aid, Frankie's hit having already peaked and fallen by Christmas Day) but ended up winning the war as it is now effectively a modern day Christmas carol - not to mention a much more likely candidate for an interpretation by Des O'Connor. As always, it is beautifully sung by George Michael but sadly free of humour, setting a worrying precedent for the singer's upcoming solo career. (I'm well-aware that it wouldn't have achieved classic status had the song's story of returning love the way others might return a gift on Boxing Day had been comically built upon but that's the kind of sucker for silly seasonal tunes I am) Again, not one for getting me into the spirit of Christmas but effective for winding the holidays down: belly stretched to its limits and in that woozy haze of too much turkey and wine and a family member says, "well, that's it for another year" and you get all maudlin and "Last Christmas" becomes the song you've got to have on.
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