Redhead Kingpin & The FBI: "Do the Right Thing"

12 July 1989

"He's one of the those rappers whose words trip of the tongue with such casual ease, it makes the point he's trying to put across sound utterly simple and totally and completely obvious."

— William Shaw

It was 1968 and pop music was going through yet another sea change. The Beatles released the so-called White Album. The Byrds put out the influential Sweetheart of the Rodeo. The Beach Boys delivered Wild Honey at the tail end of the '67 and followed it with Friends, both of which had dialled back from the days of 'pocket symphonies' "California Girls" and "Good Vibrations". The Kinks offered up The Village Green Preservation Society, their highly unsuccessful...

Wait, did I already go into all this? That's right, just last week I was going on about how the predominance of acid rock in the late-sixties had been exaggerated, especially given the fact that seemingly everyone at the time was doing against the supposed tide of psychedelic pop. This I then connected to rap having a reputation for being all about showing off and gold medallions and fancy cars and stuff when in actual fact most of the big names were busy creating hip hop records that dealt with a wide-variety of topics. Last week, comical hippies De La Soul proved they could be serious and fly in the face of all that rap posturing and this time it's the turn of a young man named David Guppy, who wished for everyone to Do the Right Thing.

De La Soul were part of a loose scene of playful hip hop artists who sampled from all kinds of sources, looked like hippies and appeared to be in it for a laugh. Other notable progressive rappers (aka The Daisy Age) included Monie Love, The Jungle Brothers and Dream Warriors (all of whom will be featured before long on this blog). Guppy and his mates (ie Redhead Kingpin & The F.B.I.) were not in this camp. They were as earnest as Chuck D but without his in-your-face attitude and forceful raps. Their music seemed to epitomize the idea of rap having a "message", one that was meant to be deep and meaningful. Stay away from drugs. Find alternatives to violence. Finish school. Respect yourself. All very noble and well-intended.

But is "Do the Right Thing" any good? Well, it's not bad and, as William Shaw says, the Kingpin has a facility with rolling verses off the tongue that not everyone can replicate. It doesn't exactly plant itself in the mind but at least I can get through the whole thing without turning it off. Not much of a recommendation but in a year with some extraordinary rap and house records, it's a surprisingly plain effort without much to make it stand out from the pack. Curiously, it's only the single's understated modesty that gives it a unique quality but that wouldn't suffice to make it a truly memorable cut. Getting that message out seemed to ensure that the quality of the music would be secondary. It's as if we're not even meant to enjoy it.

Guppy steered clear of the bling and boasting about what a righteous dude he was but "Do the Right Thing" is still something of a throwback. While Shaw praises the music — it "swings along with devil-may-care jollity — there's even an accordion twiddling away there" — it is unfortunately dragged down by an over-reliance on samples that were already cliches by the end of the eighties ("ah yeah" and "check this out" were they were both so 1987). Top DJ's of the time were able to utilize tried and tested bits of other records effectively in creating fresh works of their own but the Redhead's F.B.I. was not up to the task. A little Daisy Age fun would have been a welcome addition but I imagine it would have threatened to diminish the message — and you can't have that.

"Do the Right Thing" was supposed to be used in the influential Spike Lee picture of the same name but it got dropped prior to the film's release. (Rather unjustly, they didn't even bother to include it on the accompanying soundtrack album though it would eventually appear in Wes Craven's The People Under the Stairs, which couldn't have been much of a consolation prize) Nevertheless, it became a Top 20 hit in Britain in the summer of 1989. This success would be fleeting but Redhead Kingpin will be back in this space soon enough. I just hope he didn't further sacrifice a good record in favour of his "message". We'll see.

~~~~~

Also of some cop

Gloria Estefan: "Don't Wanna Lose You"

Miami Sound Machine → Gloria Estefan & Miami Sound Machine → Gloria Estefan (Wendy James sure called it back at the end of 1988, didn't she?)

Easing her way into a "solo" career was probably a good strategy. Singles from final group album Anything for You were slow to take off in Britain and there wasn't much of a gap between "Can't Stay Away from You" and "comeback" "Don't Wanna Lose You". Two slow songs in a row went against the ver Sound Machine's policy of alternating between a weepie and a Latin dancefloor stormer but they seemed to get away with it all right. Estefan could sometimes be guilty of overdoing it on the vocal front but she does a commendable job of keeping her pipes in check. Earlier "ballads" could never quite measure up to the faster numbers but "Don't Wanna Lose You" placed her firmly in the realm material for teenagers awkwardly slow dancing. Adolescent lust had come roaring in and you can bet we didn't want to lose it.

Nash the Slash: "Dead Man's Curve"

22 January 1981

"At last! A hero for the walking wounded."

 — Ronnie Gurr

We're in a boardgame cafe on Toronto's Yonge Street. He chooses the Strawberry Shortcake game and I happily agree. As ever, I'm keen to sit on the bench with Orange Blossom. He kicks my ass and wants to play again. I agree so that I can return to my Platonic affair with the girl on the top left corner of the board. He tells me that he hates boardgames other than this one and Mastermind. I consider switching games but hesitate due to my loyalty to Orange Blossom. Besides, Mastermind makes me feel like an imbecile. Kids at a corner table are enjoying Popamatic Trouble and we roll our eyes. It's a best four out of seven Strawberry Shortcake game contest for us and he's looking at a sweep.

Nashville Thebodiah Slasher isn't interested in talking about music and I'm not interested in asking him any of the questions I have prepared. I jotted down a bunch of useless queries about the trademark bandages he has wrapped around his head at all times and if he thinks he's influenced by Captain Beefheart and The Residents but I figure he's been asked these a million times before. Instead, as we're getting set for the third game, I ask him about other bands and types of music. I decide we should do some word association. I start gingerly but it doesn't take long before we're rolling. (For his part, Nash scarcely looks up from our game)

PiL: burial

Lene Lovich: rumpus room

Hazel O'Connor: smalltown mayors

Blondie: helpless

Talking Heads: emotional

The Police: pea soup

The Jam: achievement

Squeeze: gum boots

The Pretenders: astro pops

Bruce Springsteen: manufacturing

ABBA: cotton

Paul McCartney: consituency

Gary Numan: funeral

Toyah: chain link fences

Queen: pigeon toes

Stevie Wonder: relationships

Kate Bush: bed pans

Adam & The Ants: inhabitable

XTC: braids

The Specials: back bacon

Ian Dury: bricklaying

Nash the Slash: Circle Square Rancher

Not much revealed there (though it is nice to discover that the Nasher is a strong Christian soldier). Deciding that we've had enough shenanigans, I finish up my visit with Orange Blossom and work up the courage to ask him about his latest record. It is what Smash Hits have flown me over to Canada for. So, Mr. Slash, what made you want to cover "Dead Man's Curve"? Do you like exploring the dark side of innocent pop?

"No", he says while rolling the dice, "it was already dark. I gave it some much needed sunshine".

I suppose you could argue that's what he did. So how much of your public persona matches your private self?

"Nash and Nashville are mostly the same but I try to tone it down a little when I'm out in public. If people think I wear too many bandages they should see me at home".

Does he wrap certain "appendages" in bandages at home?

"You mean my arms and legs? Or the outsized skin tag under my arms pits?"

Yeah, those ones. So, is it true you won't use guitars on your records?

"I'd use a guitar if I could get some different sounds of them. Other instruments are able to sound like guitars but guitars only sound like themselves."

Do you reckon you're cut out for the pop life?

"I must be since my last job was decorating birthday cakes. I got fired after just a few weeks but I still haven't been canned from this one."

All these questions have thrown off his nibs and we're neck and neck in the fourth game. I hope Orange Blossom won't leave me in for him. His strategy of playing hard to get with her appears to be paying off. I'll have to make it up to her somehow. I'm beginning to suspect that the Slasher has found my weakness. I'd better try to get into his head with some more questions. What does he think of making music videos?

"I love making videos. They're much more fun than most of the records. I suggested to my record label that we do a silent music video but they said no."

A silent music video???

"Yeah, like a silent movie but without the music playing. Most songs sound better in my head anyway."

What does Nash like to do for fun?

"Oh, the usual. Cooking shows on TV, slurpees and walking away in the middle of conversations. I'm a simple guy with simple pleasures."

Try as I might, Nash the Slash sweeps me in Strawberry Shortcake game. I ask him if he'd like to play Mille Bornes but he politely declines. He's got a doctor's appointment prior to his concert here in Toronto. The man is one of a kind and he doesn't even know it.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

John Lennon: "Woman"

"Everyone thinks it's about my woman but it's really about 99% of the women, alive or half dead". This is not something John Lennon uttered in his lifetime but he might have done had he lived longer. One of his strengths was to make the personal seem so universal and he did it here just as he did on "Girl" and "Mother" years earlier. ("Julia" is perhaps his one personal statement to a woman that could never have been masked as something else) It probably did seem like pablum in November of 1980 but it has never not been poignant ever since. Lennon detractors will predictably trot out stuff about him beating women but he did try to atone for his sinful past. Well done.

De La Soul: "Say No Go"

28 June 1989

"Forget bragging about who's got the fattest wallet, and the most Louis Vuitton accessories for their swank mobiles — these boys rap peace and love."

— Harriet Dell

It was 1968 and pop music was going through yet another sea change. The Beatles released the so-called White Album. The Byrds put out the influential Sweetheart of the Rodeo. The Beach Boys delivered Wild Honey at the tail end of the '67 and followed it with Friends, both of which had dialled back from the days of 'pocket symphonies' "California Girls" and "Good Vibrations". The Kinks offered up The Village Green Preservation Society, their highly unsuccessful masterpiece. The Band emerged from the shadow of Bob Dylan with Music from the Big Pink. Dylan himself ended '67 with the sparse and Biblical John Wesley Harding. Meanwhile, Elvis Presley was returning to relevance with his hugely popular comeback.

These albums (and, in Elvis' case, performance) don't share much in common with each other but they are typically described today in a similar manner. All of these acts, the story goes, were going against the psychedelic grain of the time by serving up gritty roots rock, passionate R&B and/or simpler folk and country-influenced material. This, then, begs the question: if all of these rock giants were turning their backs on acid rock by this time, who was still persisting with it? (Actually, there were plenty but that's not the point)

Hip hop acts faced a not dissimilar reputational disadvantage in the late-eighties. The image of rappers as proudly showing off their bling and boasting of how great they and their money are was difficult to shake. Thinking off the top of my head, I can recall a lot of groups signed to Def Jam and most of them failed to fit in with that image of the narcissistic rap star. Public Enemy (see below) and NWA put out some extraordinary records that also placed them as hard hitting civil rights spokesmen. LL Cool J was cut from a similar cloth only he chose to be a more positive voice. Run-DMC were entertainers, Erik B & Rakim were artists and the Beastie Boys were clowns sending up macho rap posing. If they were all going against the bling grain, just who was keeping it going?

And, yet, this idea of rappers being obnoxious show-offs wouldn't go away. Graeme Kay named Run-DMC's "Mary, Mary" the Single of the Fortnight, praising it as "refreshingly free of all that guff that rappers usually go on about i.e. "Look how tough, wonderful and fabulously rich I am"". Ten months later and it's the same scenario: De La Soul were supposedly flouting the conventions of a hip hop movement that wasn't nearly as commonplace as people believed.

Still, even alongside the likes of LL Cool J and Run-DMC, De La Soul stood out. If rap had a downside it was in its near-universal earnestness. Hip hop had a message and its purveyors would be damned if they weren't going to express it. Kelvin Mercer, Dave Jolicoeur and Vincent Mason took on stage names but they eschewed the usual M.C. prefix, initial suffix and none of them claimed to be a professor. In choosing to go with the monikers Posdnuos, Trugoy and Maseo respectively, De La Soul were marked out as playful and silly — and even as hippies, even if the trio denied themselves.

Their first hit came out in the UK in the spring of 1989. "Me, Myself and I" was a head turning single but one that listeners didn't know quite what to make of. British rap had been the preserve of more boastful types who at least had pop hooks to make their records — Derek B's "Bad Young Brother", the Wee Papa Girl Rappers' "Wee Rule" — appear to be better than they were; "Me, Myself and I" had something to it but it lacked the immediacy of these lightweight hip hop affairs. It was going to take the kids time to get used to De La Soul.

As if acknowledging that their previous hit was a bit of a throwaway, the trio got serious for follow-up "Say No Go". Normally whenever a band goes from lighthearted to painfully glum it becomes clear that they're heading for the dumper but the opposite happens in this case. While "Me, Myself and I" tried a little too hard to be witty, the serious subject matter of hardcore drugs on the streets better suits the rapping talents of both Posdnuos and Turgoy. Much more earnest individuals have tackled narcotics in song but their achievement is to deal with it in a fashion that is relatable but never hectoring. Verses roll off their tongues in a manner that few in rap could hope to replicate. They don't trivialize the experience nor do they go over-serious. It's all very matter-of-fact.

The heavy subject matter of the lyrics is nicely contrasted by a relentlessly catchy tune, complimented by a memorable sample of "I Can't Go for That (No Can Do)" by Hall & Oates, with added touches from the likes of Sly Stone and The Detroit Emeralds. The practice of borrowing from sources outside of hip hop and its antecedents was still relatively new at the time and it showed that De La Soul had catholic interests. If they had wanted to prove that they could go against the grain of macho hip hop head games then using smooth eighties' white soulsters was a genius move.

"Say No Go" showed a modest improvement on "Me, Myself and I" and gave De La Soul their first UK Top 20 hit and set a trend by which they turned the law of decreasing returns on its head with the four singles taken from the 3 Feet High and Rising album. The LP was getting very encouraging reviews and the public were beginning to accept them. They were so much more than comedy goofballs and nutty hippies — and, indeed, much more than chroniclers of strife in the ghetto. They were able to do whatever they wanted within rap and they weren't even above a bit of posing, even at a time when hardly anyone was doing it anymore.

~~~~~

Also of some cop

Public Enemy: "Fight the Power"

Hip hop wasn't my cup of tea back in '89 which only makes me wonder why not. (Oh right, it was all the obnoxious white people hung up on its "message" that turned me off) Public Enemy are perhaps the most well-remembered rap act of the time but they manage to combine all that is wonderful and annoying about the genre. Their early work is the most effective and by the time of "Fight the Power" it was as if Chuck D was far too caught up in his role as a voice for his generation to be bothered much with crafting great records. The more spotlight-friendly Flava Flav joins his nibs in a display of unity but it isn't quite enough to inject some much needed fun. Exciting but it could've been so much more. But, hey, it has a message!

London Boys: "London Nights"

14 June 1989

"Neither Spagna nor Milli Vanilli can hold a candle against this."

— Mike Soutar

There aren't many left but if you ever happen to browse around a South Korean record store there's a decent chance you'll come upon a copy of The Twelve Commandments of Dance by London Boys. I began noticing this a few years ago and wondered why music shops were choosing to stock this album when it was clear that no one wanted. Then, I happened to be speaking to a couple I know well about music. They both liked Michael Jackson, vaguely remembered Madonna and hadn't heard of either George Michael or Prince. Then, the woman mentioned that she really liked the London Boys and her husband concurred. Based on this admittedly slim bit of polling, I can conclude that there had once been a demand for their work even if there no longer was any. But such is the way of popular music.

When The Beatles left Liverpool for Hamburg they were unknown by most and disliked by the rest. Howie Casey, sax player for Merseyside group Derry and the Seniors, begged Alan Williams not to send that "bum group" over to Germany, fearing that they were going to ruin it for everyone. Nothing of the sort happened and the Fab Four returned to England a markedly better band, one that was a step closer to world conquest. John Lennon recalled that everyone thought they were German and that they "[spoke] good English".

Confusing Die Beatles for Germans wouldn't last long (especially after they made such a hash of both "Sie leibt dich" and "Komm, gib mir deine Hand") but there's no question that their time in Hamburg did them a world of good. Over the years, Germany became a place where pop stars of different stripes and various levels of success could go to turn their fortunes around or just get themselves together. Donna Summer spent most of her twenties in Munich where she would first meet fellow transplants Giorgio Moroder and Pete Bellotte; she wouldn't move back to her native United States until after becoming a global superstar. David Bowie and Iggy Pop famously lived in West Berlin in the late-seventies which resulted in a creative flowering for both of them. The influence of American and British artists on German pop was such that English became the lingua franca of domestic acts from Boney M. to Propaganda.

So, a trajectory of The Beatles to Donna Summer to David Bowie and Iggy Pop to...the London Boys. (One of them is not like the others) Edem Ephraim and Dennis Fuller were German residents but they had originally been from, well, London. Being based in Hamburg, a name like 'London Boys' must have carried more weight than it would have back in their homeland (they were so-named because "everyone in Germany called us two boys from London"). Indeed, a group called Londonbeat had recently been on the charts with the single "9 A.M. (The Comfort Zone)" and it had been obvious that the group's three American vocalists and guitarist who everyone assumed to be German (turns out he was in fact from the UK) had next to nothing to do with the British capital. Bands from London didn't need to advertise where they hailed from; only those who came from elsewhere felt the need to tell everyone about it — something that Dennis and Edem doubled down on by titling their second hit single "London Nights".

When London Boys emerged in the spring of 1989 it was with "Requiem", an over-the-top dancefloor stormer that gave them a Top 5 hit. Its chart progress had been slow with the single drifting around the lower reaches of the flop side of the hit parade in December and January before returning in the spring when it would eventually peak. The momentum it generated was strong enough that its follow-up came in with a bang, being that week's second highest new entry (behind a still widely popular if increasingly stale Queen). "Requiem had only just dropped off the Top 40 a week earlier which would give London Boys an impressive nineteen straight weeks of chart action spread over a pair of singles.

But if we had assumed that Dennis and Edem's second hit was just going to be more of the same from the first, we were mistaken. Sure, "London Nights" is good fun with plenty of Euro-stomp energy but it's streets ahead of "Requiem". I had dug their first hit but found the pleading chorus ("this is the story now, the story of our love") utterly unconvincing. The duo drew upon religious imagery from time to time but in a very artificial fashion (even as a unaware twelve-year-old I knew that The Twelve Commandments of Dance was a lame title).

By contrast, "London Nights" felt the real thing. Being expats, they had memories of London to rely on but it feels like they'd been away for long enough that that they were able to pull off romanticizing it. With West Germany thriving, they weren't necessarily privy to the worst of the Thatcher years. There's a certain darkness in the verses but it's counteracted by an ecstatic chorus. Showing that they'd picked up more than a little from their adopted country, it's not unlike Propaganda's wonderful singles "Dr. Mabuse" and "Duel". On the other hand, it also draws upon Pet Shop Boys, who had already immortalized London as a hotbed of sleaze in "West End Girls".

London Boys had hits in Britain and throughout Europe (and, presumably, South Korea) but where they remained unknowns was in North America. While Milli Vanilli ran off a succession of Top 5 hits, Dennis and Edem remained an obscurity, something I could never comprehend. Their records were unavailable to me but the bulk of "London Nights" had permanently squatted in my brain. It became one of those songs I most associated with the end of my year in England and one that would lead me to over-romanticize this period of my life. I had enjoyed our many visits to London but it had never been a place I experienced at two or three in the morning when "the party's out and the fever [drove me] wild" but that's the kind of London I created in my mind. Again, such is the power of pop.

 

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Prince: "Batdance"

Half-Prince, half-Joker, the Purple Perv manages to look like Two-Face in the video of "Batdance". Even more confused is the record itself. It seemed cool at the time until the soundtrack came out when it was revealed that it was just a glorified megamix of the album and, indeed, a condescended six-minute summing up of the Batman film that was on its way. A mess and, as Mike Soutar says, "very odd indeed" but a just-past-peak Prince managed to tie it all up into a great party record to rival "London Nights".  Obviously he accomplished far more elsewhere but you'd be hard pressed to find another record of his that is this much fun. And I still quote "This town needs an enema!" on occasion without even thinking of Jack Nicholson or Tim Burton: as far as I'm concerned, this was all Prince's doing too. Shame I bought that soundtrack album though.

Joe Jackson Band: "Beat Crazy"

8 January 1981

"It's wise to ignore Joe's caustic jibes about the slaves of fashion and just succumb to the forceful reggae-boned attack. It's hard to tell if he's serious anyway."

— Mark Ellen

When it comes to Joe Jackson's chart fortunes it was either sink or swim. The new wave classic "Is She Really Going Out with Him?" took its time but it eventually made the Top 20, even if it deserved better. As if to overcompensate, the inferior "It's Different for Girls" did brisk enough business to end up all the way in the UK Top 5. Solid, encouraging performances for Jackson but there was little else to show for it. Stellar (if sometimes unlikeable) singles  "Sunday Papers", "One More Time" and "I'm the Man" all failed to capitalize on his success and it wouldn't be until 1982 that he had a belated return to the charts — and one that proved to be yet another one off.

Even with all that in mind, his early-eighties' commercial fall off seems difficult to comprehend. Jackson's first two albums — Look Sharp and I'm the Man, both from a very productive 1979 — were critically acclaimed and their respective chart peaks showed an upward trend. Then it all came undone with Beat Crazy. Credited to the Joe Jackson Band, it appropriately allowed the spotlight to shine a bit more on the largely overlooked trio that backed his nibs. Bassist Graham Maby even takes the bulk of the lead vocal on the title track, a fact Mark Ellen fails to point out in his review. (Not that I blame him, I always assumed it was Jackson himself trying to be a little more vocally dexterous) Nevertheless, there's no question who's in charge. Fans and critics may have wanted more of the same but he was not about to grant them that wish.

It probably didn't help that this is a song that goes after the very people who were potential Joe Jackson fans. Ellen advises that we should take no notice of him and that's probably wise counsel when dealing with him in general. His fans may have seen it otherwise but his wit failed to register to the same extent as fellow late-seventies songsmiths Elvis Costello, Chris Difford, Nick Lowe and Andy Partridge; indeed, they could all give Jackson a serious run in the 'grumpiest man in pop' stakes yet they all possessed a charm that he never had. XTC were often content to explore the generational gulf the way Jackson does here in songs such as "This Is Pop", "Respectable Street" and "No Thugs in Our House" but their efforts didn't leave listeners questioning their motives to nearly the same extent.

That said, Ellen is correct that the tune is what we should be focused on. Shifting between hard-hitting ska and a wistful, swaying waltz, it is far more musically advanced than your average new waver or Birmingham-based reggae outfit. Time shifts, tempo changes, these aren't the hallmarks of an oik hiding behind punk. And this makes me wonder that he might have agreed with more than a little of the sentiments in "Beat Crazy". The kids were persisting with wasting their time ("it's such a crime") in a subgenre that had long become tired. And for the sartorial Jackson, his observations on their distinct lack of style ("they say the world is in a mess / but they can talk the way they dress") rings more than a little true.

Ellen is especially taken by the flip side of "Beat Crazy" and this live version of "Is She Really Going Out with Him?" is a wonderful slice of where Jackson had been and where he was headed, if not where he stood at the moment. The song's sparse, new wave arrangement obscured just what a perfect pop song it always was and this quality shines all the more in this live rendition that, in Ellen's words, recalls The Nolans — and which still manages to remain outstanding! Largely a cappella, it suggests a much more easy listening sound on the horizon and that's no bad thing. His musical gifts had been languishing behind being in a rock band and it was time for the real Joe Jackson to emgerge. Sure, this meant the blossoming of a curmudgeon but so too did "Steppin' Out", "Real Men" and "Breaking Us in Two" and this is the Joe Jackson that matters to me — pop stardom be damned.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Lincoln Thompson & The Rasses: "Spaceship"

Marrying Jamaican music with space rock may not seem like the greatest idea but Joe Meek and Scratch Perry have always had more than a little in common: both made studio limitations into playgrounds for a kind of Blue Peter, cobbled-together futurism. (Dub classics such as The Upsetters' Super Ape and Augustus Pablo's King Tubby Meets Rockers Uptown owed at least as much to "Telstar" as they did to "My Boy Lollipop") Within this context, "Spaceship" is a triumph and doesn't even feature any of the major players mentioned above (though it does include contributions from the Joe Jackson Band). Well worth checking out.

Madonna: "Express Yourself"

31 May 1989

"She doesn't hold up for one second as she bellows the advice that every girl should immediately dump their boyfriend if he's an uncaring slob or a dirty two-faced rotter."

— Tom Doyle

"Do you have a message for your young fans?"

Their 1991 single "Where the Streets Have No Name/Can't Take My Eyes Off You" returned the Pet Shop Boys to the UK Top 10 and trolled everyone in pop — if Tennant and Lowe really are the grand ironists they're purported to be, they would have considered this to be the ultimate coup. It got the airtime, appeared on their amazing greatest hits Discography and is still spoken of either lovingly or with derision to this day but it shared space with another song. "How Can You Expect to Be Taken Seriously?" was originally a new jack swing track on the Pet Shops' 1990 magnum opus Behaviour (a certain humble blogger's favourite album of all time) but it had been remixed to appear on a double A-side with the unique mash-up of a U2 hit and a Four Seasons classic.

"How Can You Expect to Be Taken Seriously?" is one of a lone line of ironic numbers from Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe, stretching from "Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money)" on 1986's Please to "Your Early Stuff" and "Ego Music" from their overlooked 2012 album Elysium. Tennant chafed at the claim that they made "pop records about pop records" but his track record typically failed to back him up. Nevertheless, their attempts at ironic pop resulted in some brilliant songs, the best of which (the B-sides "Miserablism" and "Shameless") even manage to evoke some empathy with the subjects they were mocking.

There isn't much empathy in "How Can You Expect to Be Taken Seriously?" and fans have often wondered who it's about. Given their open disregard for U2, it could easily be assumed to be about the Irish foursome but there were others hinted at. I've always thought it was about Bros, who were the inspirations the song's line about "longevity". At any rate, it's about the do-gooder nature of pop stars at the end of the eighties — and how everyone was expected to have a message for their young fans.

It started off with Live Aid and it would only snowball from there. Because of abject poverty in Africa, because of the rainforests, because of Apartheid, because of, because of, because of. Pop stars became expected to have a cause and, as such, they were all supposed to have a message for their young fans. Hip hop artists were quick to jump on this, prompting fans to self-righteously proclaim that rap had a "message", while implying that other genres didn't.

Madonna never fully embraced the idea of having a message or a fashionable cause to get behind — unless, of course, you count her later embrace of Kabbalism as a "cause" — but the new found maturity of her late-eighties work had her more invested in issues. While it was clear to see that the likes of Suzanne Vega, Tracy Chapman, k.d. lang and Cyndi Lauper were all feminists to one extent or another, few would have thought to use the term to describe Madonna. That is until "Express Yourself".

"Like a Prayer" had been a mammoth single both in terms of its success and the way it positioned Madonna as a creative force. The album of the same name proved to be a breakthrough (even if I personally see it as no better than predecessor True Blue) but it wasn't exactly packed with potential hit singles. (A curiosity of the time is that she never managed to pull off the extravagant seven-or-eight-singles-off-the-same-album approach that Michael Jackson had perfected) In truth, there were only two to choose from and they would follow one another back into the higher reaches of the charts around the world. One was a magical song that demonstrated her innate understanding of current pop and the other was "Express Yourself".

In fairness, it did well at the time and remains a firm favourite among her fanbase. And it's nothing to be ashamed of, even if its message remains much more potent than the song itself. Sonically, it's a return to the "wave pool pop" of "Open Your Heart" and "Papa Don't Preach" albeit lacking their catchiness and charm. It doesn't help that Madonna relies way too much on her husky vocal style, never one of my preferred characteristics of her's. Still, I'm not crazy about it but I suppose it works in the context of a song about female empowerment. The David Fincher-directed video is one of the more memorable promos of the time but the image of a chained up Madge starkers on a bed doesn't really wash with the wise, big sisterly advice in the lyrics.

As I said above, Madonna wasn't one for heavy-handed message songs and "Express Yourself" is a good example of why. The message is a positive one but there's not much to the record otherwise. And that's the trouble with getting caught up in having a message for your young fans since the pop music typically suffers. Luckily, Madonna pushed through and she followed with "Cherish", a magnificent single that displayed all of her patented pop flash while leaving the message well behind. A good move.

 

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Baby Ford: "Children of the Revolution"

The idea of fusing glam rock with acid house is a good one but how well did Baby Ford pull it off? Cover versions of classic pop and rock songs were notoriously dodgy during this time, though the success of S'Express' "Hey Music Lover" (originally by Sly & The Family Stone, though it was a relatively obscure number) must have been encouraging. So, what of Baby Ford's interpretation of T-Rex's "Children of the Revolution"? Well, it's better than it deserves to be and ver Babe expertly mimics Marc Bolan's sultry whispered style of singing. Yet, why would anyone bother with this facsimile when they could put on the original instead? Or listen to something else? Or doing something else? Or get on with your life?