— Lola Borg
The New Pop explosion of the early eighties (known in North America as 'the second British invasion") would have been a distant memory five years later but its legacy still cast a large shadow over the music scene. Some groups had broken up (Wham! did so amicably with a memorable farewell concert the previous summer, Culture Club had fallen apart spectacularly and Frankie Goes to Hollywood were about to follow suit) while others desperately tried to remain relevant (Spandau Ballet's gambit of going po-faced and serious worked with one single but their popularity quickly vanished, Madness had been through diminishing returns over the previous two years and were soon to re-brand themselves The Madness, much to the general disinterest of everyone, Soft Cell became impossible to sell). Yet, people like George Michael and Boy George were still properly famous in a way that a newer (and decidedly more handsome) face like Nick Kamen wasn't.
Duran Duran had kept on but this wasn't without its challenges. They desired a break following a rapid rise to the top but ended up forming a pair of pointless splinter acts before regrouping to do a very meh James Bond theme in 1985. Their records no longer had the thrill of "Rio", "Hungry Like the Wolf" and "The Reflex" and only exposed them as having suspect talents — which was also affirmed by their poor showing at Live Aid in which Simon Le Bon proved once and for all that he was not one of his generation's finest vocalists. Andy Taylor realised he no longer had any business playing in a pop group when his heart was in metal. Roger Taylor, perhaps the most in need of some kip during their proposed hiatus that never happened, decided to pack the pop life in for some rural relaxation. Reduced to the trio of Le Bon, Nick Rhodes and John Taylor (there's something not quite right about a Duran Duran lineup with only one unrelated Taylor), the group roped in Nile Rodgers to co-produce and some ace sessioners to augment the sound.
The results were mixed. The "Notorious" single did well enough but its fleeting chart run ought to have signaled that their days of guaranteed top three singles was over; in terms of quality, it has a nice, welcome back novelty about it but, as Lola Borg suggests, it didn't have the wheels to make a lasting impression. The album of the same name disappointed with just a single week in the top 40 in spite of some encouraging reviews but they knew they had an ace up their sleeves with its second single that was sure to revive their fortunes in the new year.
Yeah, about that. "Skin Trade" was something the group was extremely proud of but for whatever reason it failed to click with the public. The record spent a month drifting around the twenties before disappearing, giving them their worst chart performance since their forgettable second single "Careless Memories". For the love of god, "New Moon on Monday" did better and nobody even remembers that one. The dumper seemed to beckon but at least they were serving up a great song as they began their slide.
Putting out a great single that goes nowhere is nothing new. When Slade released the magnificent "How Does It Feel" from their film Flame they were stunned by its relative failure. "The Day Before You Came" is one of ABBA's finest moments and it just scraped the lower end of the Top 40. "Being Boring" is arguably the Pet Shop Boys' masterpiece and it somehow broke their streak of Top 10 hits. And joining them on this potential Now That's What I Call a Great Song That Almost Flopped comp (or, if you must, Spotify playlist) "Skin Trade" takes its proud place.
Wikipedia suggests that its poor showing was down to fans being turned off by their new direction and sound. Gone were Le Bon's pseudo-intellectualized word salad lyrics and production with far too much going on, which I suppose would puzzle listeners who reckoned "Is There Something I Should Know" to be the pinnacle of pop. Rodgers' funk guitar playing (with some nice power chords from future full time Duran Warren Cuccurullo) adds a nice texture to the sexiness that everyone present seems to have embraced. And, this being what must have been the most beshagged group of the decade, wasn't it about time Duran Duran began embracing their carnal side? Was this what turned people off, Simon Le Bon of all people being interested in sex?
That said, there are adult themes that might have made some want to look the other way. It's easy to listen to it assuming they'd all just been back from a month of illicit rumpo in Bangkok and I wouldn't be at all surprised if that's what inspired it. Plus, Le Bon isn't doing himself any favours by channeling Mick Jagger and Prince, two of pop's most legendary pervs. The singer did try to explain that it was actually about the exploitation of everyone and how we're all working for the skin trade but his appeal to universalism is hard to square with the lyrics, his singing and the overall performance — and, indeed, the record's banned sleeve depicting a young woman's buttocks relieved of any garments.
"Skin Trade" failed to register with ver kids but it really is the group's crowning achievement. Pop stars typically mature but few manage to keep their early energy alive and fewer still are able to do so in such sleazy fashion, embracing their true selves along the way. Rhodes and Taylor were always underrated musicians but the two really come into their own, with the former's keyboard playing being the backbone of the song (as well as the fact that he was the most accomplished musically and had a significant role in terms of production) and the latter's bass making it rhythmically their strongest outing. As stated above, Le Bon was not the greatest singer but he puts his vocals to good use: by being more like Bowie and Jagger and Prince, he became more like himself. They managed to make it through the rest of the decade free from the dumper with a tougher, edgier sound but without material close to as good as this.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Fine Young Cannibals: "Ever Fallen in Love"
Often cited as among the worst cover versions in pop history, I'll cop to once having liked FYC's rendition of "Ever Fallen in Love". It got on my wick less than many of the other hits on their second album The Raw & the Cooked (a rare LP whose deep cuts are vastly superior to its singles) and I liked its uneasy vibe. Then I heard the original by Buzzcocks and I've never been able to appreciate this second rate recording since. Former Beat members Andy Cox and David Steele should have known better though Roland Gift does his best with that little goes a long was voice of his. A nice try but woeful nonetheless.
No comments:
Post a Comment