Happy Mondays & Karl Denver: "Lazyitis (One-Armed Boxer)"

30 May 1990

"What's "Lazyitis" when it's at home? If this single's anything to go by it's an ailment that afflicts top Mancunian pop rascals rendering them too idle to compose their own tunes. So they pinch other people's."

— Richard Lowe

This batch of singles has a distinctly Mancunian air to it. With five Greater Manchester acts represented, this truly was the year of Madchester. Or was it? Among the groups here hailing from the so-called Warehouse City (does anyone actually call it that?) is New Order and A Certain Ratio, not exactly the baggiest of groups. That said, why shouldn't they qualify too? Just what linked these bands beyond their locale (and even that was flexible given that Scots Primal Scream and The Soul Dragons and Scousers The Farm were also involved)? Was it that they all made indie music that people could dance to? Only sometimes really. Oldham's Inspiral Carpets were on the second tier baggy groups and no one could possible get down to any of their stuff — and, also, New Order's best material is their songs you can dance to. Was it that they were all one indie labels? I suppose so even if the indies in 1990 were an entirely different beast from a decade earlier — and, also, New Order and A Certain Ration both happened to be on small labels themselves. Did they tend to be young? Not for the most part, barring the odd Charlatans — most weren't a whole lot younger than members of New Order and A Certain Ratio. In an era when anyone could do Madchester, everyone seemed to belong.

Usually when it's your year, everything goes right. The Human League toiled through half-a-decade's worth of anemic sales before and general indifference before their commercial prospects blossomed with hits such as "Love Action (I Believe in Love)", "Open Your Heart" and, of course, the global smash "Don't You Want Me". They did so well that a grave pop injustice was righted when former flop "Being Boiled" got reissued and they had yet another Top 10 hit. ABC quickly became the next Human League when their Lexicon of Love album took the place of Dare as Britain's LP of choice in the early eighties. They also reeled off a string of hits from their masterpiece. A year on and it was Culture Club's turn to sell boat loads of albums and singles.

Though different from The Human League, ABC and Culture Club in terms of style and form, Manchester's Happy Mondays seemed to be the same sort of group that could do no wrong during their big year. "Step On" had already given them a breakthrough Top 5 hit and they seemed primed for more of the same. The only trouble was they didn't have anything new to capitalize on their fame. Their third album wouldn't come out until close to the end of the year and a proper follow-up was being held back until closer to that time. Until then, it would have to be yet another remix that would have to suffice.

"Layzitis" had originally popped up on their second album Bummed back in 1988. Like much of that LP, it's a fine track that didn't draw much attention to itself beyond the blatant theft of The Beatles' "Ticket to Ride" in the chorus. Ripping off from the Fab Four as well as Sly & The Family Stone and David Essex may seem beyond brazen but it's actually a clever way of hiding all that plagiarism. Feel nervous about having stolen a riff or chord? Why not bury the song in yet more layers of riffs and chords that have been nicked from a variety of sources. Sure, clever clog reviewers like Richard Lowe will notice but no one else will. The group that had previously relied on sampling themselves was now bogged down in plundering others to such an extent that it could scarcely be heard.

Perhaps what is most surprising is how this 'One-Armed Boxer' mix sounds so unlike a remix at all. You're not going to track down the great yodeler Karl Denver only to pointlessly use him on some dodgy Ibiza party mix, are you? While not a folk or country record that the veteran singer would have been accustomed to, a straight up jangle pop record suits him just fine. What is off-putting at first is the fact that he and Happy Mondays leader Shaun Ryder are out of synch with one another. It's not unlike the overrated David Bowie/Bing Crosby Christmas perennial "Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy", only it seems less deliberate. While old pros Bing and the Dame find their sweet spot to finally come together ("Every child must be made aware..."), Denver and Ryder meet up almost accidentally at the song's half-way point. It is only then that I realised that the two were singing the same lyrics. Indie pop's greatest living junkie had laid his vocal down much earlier and there clearly wasn't any effort made for him to re-record it along with Denver for this remix. It's unprofessional and slipshod but I think it gives the song character and charm. And in any event, why would you be anything but shoddy on a song called "Lazyitis".

It's very much a grower and must have been too strange for much in the way of public consumption. Lowe considers it the "weirdest record in a long time" and this is a point in its favour for him. But the pop kids who shelled out for "Step On" must have found this a difficult one to swallow. A light, twinkling melody? A slightly warped take on sixties' baroque pop? An old man with a crackling voice who could've been Ryder's dad? It may not have mattered that one couldn't dance to it because it was Madchester all the same but that didn't mean they had another sure-fire hit on their hands. Unjustly but understandably, "Lazyitis" just missed the Top 40. (A few weeks of chart action may have allowed listeners to get used to it and it might have enjoyed a more respectable run) In what seemed to have been the Happy Mondays' year, they couldn't avoid having a flop single to throw off their momentum a tad. The run up to the release of their third album — more on that in a few weeks: this blog is sure getting its fill of these loony Mancs — was handcuffed enough that it failed to reach number one, yet another odd anticlimax in a year that was should've been filled with nothing but highs. But enough about Shaun Ryder's drug habit...

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Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Englandneworder: "World in Motion"

And New Order's Single of the Fortnight-less streak continues. "Lazyitis" is an excellent record and it would normally be a fine SOTF but it's no "World in Motion", not even close. (Discerning listeners love the Substance compilation which covers the early part of New Order's recording career but I'm more partial to The Best of New Order which is well stocked in their 1988-93 pop side of which this is one of many highlights) People will always point out that this is easily the finest football pop song but it's outstanding even without factoring in the chanting at the end and the samples of the patrician announcer calling the final seconds of England's '66 World Cup triumph. The lyrics from comedian Keith Allen manage to evoke the beautiful game while avoiding being drowned in it and that's all you can ask for. Purists scoff but there aren't many New Order songs that are better — and, for once, it's as if they know this too. No longer everyone's second or third favourite group.

Tom Tom Club: "Wordy Rappinghood"

25 June 1981

"The funk comes thick and medium fast."

— Tim De Lisle

This entry finishes completes the eighties on this blog. I started off just over four years ago with "Skin Deep" by The Passions which was the Single of the Fortnight at the beginning of July, 1981 and Tom Tom Club's "Wordy Rappinghood" finishes things off — except that from this point on I am going to go about revising those early posts, beginning with (you guessed it) "Skin Deep" by The Passions. Full circle or something.

The occasion is an appropriate opportunity to take stock. From Philip Rambow at the start of 1980 all the way through to Neneh Cherry at the end of 1989 there have been over two hundred acts who have taken at least one SOTF. Many are notable, some have been largely forgotten over time and a few weren't even very well known back then. Other groups and singers who were popular at the time — some of whom even grace the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame — missed out entirely. For example, New Order failed to get a single top new release honour (though they will be appearing eventually). Neither did Phil Collins. Also Spandau Ballet. And Talking Heads.

The "Psycho Killer" band were critical darlings and they still have a very loyal fanbase, one that would be overjoyed in the unlikely event that they ever reform and go on tour again. Yet they weren't exactly chart regulars, their sole British Top 40 success up to this point being "Once in a Lifetime" earlier in 1981. (Subsequent 45's like "This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)" and a live "Slippery People" came up short while "Burning Down the House" somehow missed the charts completely) This probably didn't bode well for a single by side project headed (PUN!) by rhythm section and longtime couple Chris Franz and Tina Weymouth.

Yet somehow or other "Wordy Rappinghood" became a Top 10 in the UK hit that summer. Being far more fun than anything Talking Heads had released to date no doubt helped and I imagine it struch a chord with the British who are typically suckers for catchy novelty pop. Fair enough and well done to them but it grates at least as much as it charms. Weymouth is no one's idea of a brilliant vocalist (she manages to sound child-like on the Tom Tom Club's cover of "Under the Boardwalk" but her rapping on this track has a faint drawl of an old lady with a smoker's cough) and the song doesn't have the flamboyance of ver Heads' best work. I suppose "Wordy Rappinghood" is clever to an extent but the joke wears thin before its four-and-a-half-minute playing time is even up. David Byrne has a gift for making his intelligence and quirks seem compelling but there's nothing that comes close that on here. But she does a verse in French! Yes, and Talking Heads were doing that back in 1977 on the famed "Psycho Killer". If Franz and Weymouth were happy to remain in the shadow of their more acclaimed day job then they succeeded.

Byrne was said to have been cool towards the Tom Tom Club being so commercial and I can sort of see his point. (Assuming this is how he actually felt: Franz and Weymouth have been critical of the singer but he's been largely silent about them; he evidently didn't despise them enough to prevent their American hit "Genius of Love" from being included in their famed Stop Making Sense concert film and soundtrack) Talking Heads would go a little more mainstream over the course of the eighties — "Road to Nowhere" would finally break them in the UK Top 10 and there's no denying the pop bona fides of "Burning Down the House" — but their records never sounded cheap. Tom Tom Club records have their charms but all too often they fell into the They Might Be Giants trap of smart people deliberately making disposable music. Before long, people begin to dispose of it — often well before they've ditched the genuine bubblegum pop in their collections.

I as mentioned above, Franz and Weymouth have spoken bitterly about Byrne over the years. They clearly still admire his talent but she has stated that he is "incapable of returning friendship". For his part, Byrne didn't refute this, claiming that "bad blood" remains and that musically speaking they're "miles apart". "Word Rappinghood" only suggests that this has always been the case even if Talking Heads were all the better off because of it.

~~~~~

Also of some cop

Robert Palmer: "Not a Second Time"

Another one without a SOTF to his name, Robert Palmer had his ups and downs over the course of the eighties. He would later butcher classics by both Bob Dylan ("I'll Be Your Baby Tonight" along with fellow cover version fiends UB40) and Marvin Gaye (a very lame, very depressing medley of "What's Going On" and "I Want You") but he and his backing group give the Lennon-McCartney cut from the With The Beatles album the respect it deserves. Rob even added a verse ("You say you spoke too soon / And now you want to change your tune...") that doesn't sound out place. Tim De Lisle hopes it will be a "massive hit" but it disappeared without a trace, either suggesting that (a) the British were done with Beatles/Lennon product six months' after John's horrifying murder and subsequent deluge of product or (b) Palmer was right to have a go at better known rock hits of the past that he could lay waste to and score hits with. The Power Station's ghastly cover of "Get It On" was just right around the corner...

Touch of Soul: "We Got the Love" / Beats International: "Won't Talk About It"

16 May 1990

"This is a pop revelation purchasers. It's Black Box crossed with a nursery school!"

"By the time you read this, Norm and his mates should be firmly, and rightly, established in the toppermost regions of the "all-important" Top Forty."

— Miranda Sawyer

For all the talk of the indie revolution, it was electro dance music that was at the real cutting edge of pop in the early nineties. (In fact, the Madchester acts owed their success and acclaim to the techno/rave boffins) Much as guitar bands tried to fight back — first by joining in, then by going on the self-defensive with MTV Unplugged, grunge and the modern rock boom — three chords and the truth didn't cut it anymore. Dance music wasn't always my favourite thing but if it could help take a blow torch to rock 'n' roll mythology then pump up the jams till the cows come home, my friends!

Sadly, little of this thrilling dance pop of the era is to be found in either of this issue's Singles of the Fortnight. With so many DJ's, producers and remixers doing pioneering work, there were bound to be less talented types to jump on the bandwagon. Even some of the more creative figures found themselves at a loss. I'm just spitballing but I wonder if the mediums of computers and mixing desks was less conducive to progression as traditional instruments. Fooling around on a guitar, jamming, playing gigs: they can all lead to unexpected results but is this approach as easy to come by with a stack of old funk records to sample from? Dance albums tended to be all over the place while singles tended to vary in quality or be exactly the same.

Norman Cook had been a self-proclaimed poor bassist in The Housemartins (strictly speaking, not true at all) who moved to Brighton following their premature breakup to begin following his real passion DJing. Possibly due to name recognition from his old group, he initially released records under his own name. A double A side would emerge in the summer of 1989 with "Blame It on the Bassline" getting the bulk of the airplay. It's an engaging if unremarkable track that relies heavily upon MC Wildski's thick British accented rapping and samples from The Jackson Five's "Blame It on the Boogie". On the flip was "Won't Talk About It" featuring a near-unregonisable Billy Bragg singing in falsetto (not unlike his vocal on "Wish You Were Her" from his 1991 Don't Try This at Home album). If stripped of Cook's dance embellishments you'd have something not unlike one of those stark early Bragg numbers like "The Milkman of Human Kindness" or "St. Swithin's Day".

The "Blame It on the Bassline" / "Won't Talk About It" single quickly fell off the charts after a fairly modest showing. At some point afterwards, the "solo" project morphed into something closer to a proper group but not before "For Spacious Lies" was released with a credit to 'Norman Cook featuring Lester'. This single tanked but it set him on a path towards piecing together a collective in the vein of Soul II Soul. Then, "Dub Be Good to Me" came out in early 1990 as the debut release of Beats International and it erupted. This extraordinary mix of a cover of the SOS Band single with samples from The Clash's "Guns of Brixton" and the theme to the spaghetti western Once Upon a Time in the West proved irresistible. Singer Lindy Layton proved to be the thinking person's girl-next-door with a performance that is wise and street smart but also vulnerable and innocent

There's a great deal of variety to the early Cook/Beats singles but they chose to play it safe with the follow-up to "Dub Be Good to Me". Sensing that there was still some life in a single that didn't get much attention ten months' earlier, "Won't Talk About It" was given a revamp with much more of a standard dance beat and Layton replacing Bragg. Soul II Soul had used Caron Wheeler on two singles a year earlier — "Keep on Movin'" and SOTF "Back to Life (However Do You Want Me)" — but they were both equally outstanding and they managed to avoid having one overshadow the other. "Dub Be Good to Me" had been brilliant but this only managed to come across as an inferior retread. Hip hop pair Double Trouble give proceedings a much needed lift in the bridge but it's not enough to keep boredom at bay.

As for "We Got the Love", it's crass and opportunist (and, in Miranda Sawyer's words, stupid and tacky) but it has that spark of life to it that "Won't Talk About It" lacks. The people behind Italian house seldom seemed to strain many brain cells in putting together their recordings but it's hard to argue with the results. While Cook and his entourage was able to dazzle listeners with their musical knowledge, producers/remixers Alex Neri, Leonardo Rosi and Michele Galeazzi were able to get European youngsters on the dancefloor, while also impressing the socks off Sawyer — with something so cleverly moronic to boot! Not bad, not bad. Not something I ever desire to listen to again but not bad all the same. ("We Got the Love" just missed the Top 40 but it did enough to find its way on to the compilation Smash Hits Rave! released later in the year)

Ultimately, these two records indicate the split that had taken place between Britain and Europe when it came to electro dance music. Cook had left a guitar band and members of The Grid, Underworld and M|A|A|R|S had all come out of the pop/rock world. This led many in UK techno to act like they were in rock groups with music that was meant to be substantial. Meanwhile, their European counterparts were busy putting together acts that fitted in better within the world of pop. Beats, choruses, hooks — all that was left was for these boffins to recruit good looking dancers and singers to front their enterprises. Black Box, Technotronic and Snap! were already here but this was just the beginning.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Chimes: "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For"

U2 were at heart a Christian rock band but how did they keep this a secret from the public for so long? I suppose it helped that they were subtle with their God stuff, no mean feat when so-called CCM is littered with piety that is enough to make a nun sick all over her habit. This cover by Scottish trio The Chimes, however, should've laid all suspicions to rest. Singer Pauline Henry gives this 1987 classic the full gospel treatment making it sound just as you would imagine an R&B U2 cover would sound. Impressive and not a huge drop in quality from the original. It had been just three years since ver 2 had conquered the world with The Joshua Tree but heartland rock didn't seem to fit in with the nineties. A welcome update, if you will. A year later the Pet Shop Boys did something entirely different with another soul searching U2 rocker while Bobo and The Hedge were readying themselves for destroying their own mythologies. Right they were too.

Kylie Minogue: "Better the Devil You Know"

2 May 1990

"Kylie Minogue: She's a fortnight's fun in one! (?)"

— Mike Soutar

On November 8, 1988 the characters of Charlene Mitchell and Scott Robinson were married in an episode of the widely popular Australian soap Neighbours. (Apparently they had already tied the knot some eighteen months earlier back home) To celebrate, the actors that portrayed them released a duet that seemed to blur the lines between their fictional love and real life friendship. "Especially for You" was a monster smash for Kylie Minogue and Jason Donovan, capping a big year for her and ushering in a huge one for him. There had been persistent rumours that they were as much of a couple as their pair they played on TV but the two always denied them. Then another Aussie superstar came forth and made it be clear that he wanted some sweet Kylie action. Minogue was soon seen in the company of Michael Hutchence, lead singer of INXS and major sex symbol. They were no longer together but that was when everyone found out that Kyles 'n' Jase had been a couple all along.

Their music careers had been guided by the team of Stock Aitken Waterman, a trio who could on occasion do tailor made numbers for acts in their stable. As if reacting to the breakup, they gifted Donovan "When You Come Back to Me" in the build up to the 1989 Christmas Number One sweepstakes. It had some festive cheer to it and it was about a young man dealing with heartbreak as he awaits the return of his departed. If Minogue wasn't going to fall for him again then at least thousands of teenage girls were going to. (I get the feeling that SAW was much more invested in this relationship than new exes themselves) For her part, Kylie already had material from second album Enjoy Yourself to be focused on and her breakup song was just going to have to wait.

Pete Waterman has stated that "Better the Devil You Know" is about their view that she should've stayed with Donovan, the safe choice, over Hutchence, the classic rock 'n' roll bad boy. To imagine the squeaky clean Jason as a devil of any kind must have seemed odd but the song suggests that there was a lot more going on behind the scenes than the public suspected. The girl-next-door that they had tended to was gone and it was all the doing of that sex god with the long hair who sang that he needed her tonight and he damn-well meant it.

That is the narrative surrounding "Better the Devil You Know" but it probably only represents part of the story in the eyes of SAW. While Minogue was being led astray by Hutchence, she was also feeling the pull of other writers, producers and genres. Rick Astley and Bananarama had already pulled away from the trio and Donna Summer severed her brief relationship with them when she couldn't be arsed about flying back to Britain to record more material. Though they were still having hits, the days of them having three singles in the Top 10 and four more spread throughout the charts were now over. (By that October, there wouldn't be a single SAW production in the entire Top 75) As if suspecting that their one remaining big star was about to depart, they offered her a not-so-subtle reminder that they were the devil she knew and was comfortable with. Look elsewhere at your own peril, Kyles.

There is a great deal to be said about this record but, sadly, I have trouble getting enthused about the actual song. There's nothing really wrong with it, only that it's just more of the same, especially coming from SAW. True, as Mike Soutar says, Minogue's voice is much stronger than on any of her previous hits. (She also happens to look great in the video which only reaffirms that she's easily the best thing about it) The tune is yet another catchy but forgettable SAW number, a sure a sign as any that their time really was just about up. And don't get me started on those irritating backing vocals, a SAW hallmark they really should have done away with by this point.

Clearly I'm just about alone in giving "Devil" just a shrug of the shoulders — though as the anecdote down below suggests, there were others who were equally indifferent. The single got to number two and it remains one of her most popular early releases. Yet it lacks the ecstatic joy of "I Should Be So Lucky", the careful craftsmanship of "It's No Secret" and the pop breeziness of "Wouldn't Change a Thing". Yet it must be said that it reinvigorated her and SAW's remaining traces of creativity would be concentrated on her records. After playing it safe with this one, she returned later in the year with "Step Back in Time", an absolute stormer in spite of the fact that it undermined SAW's stand against oldies in their appalling '89 hit "I'd Rather Jack" by the Reynolds Girls. Subsequent hits "What Do I Have to Do" and "Shocked" also proved to be stronger than "Devil" and her unbroken run of Top 10 hits continued. Matt Aitken would soon depart leaving SAW as simply 'SW', a pair that was able to get by on fumes from their last year or so with Kylie.

My first encounter with "Better the Devil You Know" happened to be on AM 106, then Calgary's leading teen radio station. Most nights they would do a segment in which two recent singles would battle for the hearts of listeners, who would call in to vote for their favourite. The winner would move on to face another challenger the next night while the loser would quickly vanish off the face of the earth. One night in the autumn of 1990, this latest single from Kylie was in contention against a song I can't even recall. Her star was already in sharp decline since her cover of "The Locomotion" gave her a hit in 1988. (The Enjoy Yourself album had a radically different cover in North America which may have been an attempt on the part of record label Geffen to make her out to be less of a plastic girl-next-door; it was because of this photo that I figured she was going to become a bit of a granola rather than sexKylie) But people just about still remembered her and this latest single was up for consideration on one weekday night in a Canadian city. Needless to say, Kylie got trounced. Doubtless "Devil" had been tested out in various markets in the US and Canada and it wasn't going well. Third album The Rhythm of Love didn't even get released. It would be some time before we'd be hearing from her again on this side of the Atlantic.

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Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Beloved: "Time After Time"

British indie's explosion in 1990 encompassed a lot of styles. Obviously Madchester set the pace but there was also post-Smiths gloom rock, jangle pop and early shoegaze about. And then there was The Beloved, a post-punk band who underwent a sonic makeover at the end of the eighties — and then spent the bulk of their brief chart lifespan bouncing from genre to genre. I honestly never knew they had synth-pop in them but here it is, their very own attempt to compete with Depeche Mode, New Order and Pet Shop Boys (yeah, that didn't work out so well, did it?). The group's eclecticism made them interesting but it probably resulted in them struggling to cultivate a loyal fanbase at the same time. "Time After Time" strives for something but you can't help but feel that they missed the boat. Oh well, I'm sure they were able to hop on another vessel promptly.

The Specials: "Ghost Town"

11 June 1981

"A tune full of Eastern promise about towns going west, due to the current rate of unemployment."

— Fred Dellar

From 1979 to 1981, The Specials were the finest group in the world. They were a killer live act (and still are by all accounts). They looked like the part of the coolest people who were in the coolest band, just the sort of unit that young musicians have aspired to be a part of. The pop video was still in its infancy but they proved to be masters of cutting a sweet promo. They stood for something. Oh, and their first two albums — The Specials and More Specials (the mundane title of the latter won't do at all: it is anything but more of the same) — are brilliant, their run of hit singles is flawless and their B sides are as good as any you'll find.

Before I get to praising "Ghost Town", I'd like to discuss its pair of stellar flip sides. While the record's A side is rightly seen being the zeitgeist of early-eighties' Thatcherism, "Why" and "Friday Night, Saturday Morning" are equally potent throwbacks to that era — even though they both remain sadly relevant to this day. Being the age of the Rock Against Racism, one might have expected Specials' guitarist/singer Lynval Golding to have composed a bitterly angry treatment in opposition to the rise of the National Front and neo-Nazis; instead, "Why" is sad, as if written from the perspective of an innocent black or brown child confronted with prejudice for the first time. (The Specials themselves would record a much clearer anti-racist jab with "Racist Friend" though it is much more earnest)

The Kinks-esque character in "Friday Night, Saturday Morning" is an interesting counterpoint to "Why". There's nothing to suggest that the protagonist in this Terry Hall-penned number harbours any ill-feeling towards minorities but it does suggest that whites who feel like others have taken their jobs might want to consider making their own lives a little less dreary. White people who drink all the time to dull their senses really have no business considering others to be inferior. A sort of sequel to "Nite Klub" but with the mindless hedonism of old having given way to being resigned to just how empty his life is ("wish I had lipstick on my shirt, instead of piss stains on my shoes"). Yet, it's a song not without a sense of humour. Hall had begun to find his way as a songwriter to be reckoned with.

A duo of outstanding B sides but they're both bonuses. No one bought "Ghost Town" for anything but the A side and rightly so. As I have already mentioned, much has been made of it capturing that period of riots and strikes and the sheer misery of Thatcher's Britain but it's also a remarkable single in its own right. (Tom Ewing has made that very point much more elegantly that I ever could: "even if the grim energy of “Ghost Town” hadn’t fitted the times so well, even if the song had remained simply a lament for a scene (and a band) in breakdown, it would still be a gothic masterpiece") While I tend to prefer much more concise 7" mixes/edits of pop records, this is a very obvious exception: three-and-a-quarter minutes of running time does not do it justice; six minutes better allows for build-up and an appreciation for its unsettling atmosphere. Having more time to listen to "Ghost Town" forces the listener in to experience ghastly neighbourhoods and New Towns and streets of nothing but urban decay. The shorter version is great but only with the extended mix does the listener grasp the full scope of Jerry Dammers' vision.

Famously, The Specials imploded while "Ghost Town" was still riding the charts. Having the E.P. The Special A.K.A Live go to number one a year earlier was a feat that the Coventry septet could enjoy together; this time, however, there was a distinct lack of joy in spite of having the most popular record in the country, one that would be a near-unanimous pick for single of the year. Golding has said that he knew the band was finished while performing it on Top of the Pops. What should have been their crowning moment became a bittersweet valedictory address.

Golding, Hall and fellow Special Neville Staple were off to form Fun Boy Three, a group that would similarly go out on a high note two years later with their version of "Our Lips Are Sealed". Guitarist Roddy Radiation and bassist Sir Horace Gentleman would also quickly depart. Associate Special Rico Rodriguez was allegedly convinced that he shouldn't be playing in a largely white group and he and his trombone headed back to Jamaica. Keyboardist/songwriter/bandleader Dammers and drummer John Bradbury would carry on with the respectable In the Studio album and a memorable hit single "Nelson Mandela". Dammers was a well-known group dictator in the mold of Kevin Rowland but where the Dexys leader thrived in spite of sacking virtually everyone he ever played with, the series of resignations crippled the dentally-challenged one's empire. He built up a formidable group that was briefly the best in the world but it was one that had to come undone once it had reached the top. They were too good to remain together.

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Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Siouxsie & The Banshees: "Spellbound"

Dellar describes "Spellbound" as a winner and he's right on the mark. John McGeoch tends to hog the critical spotlight (his 12-string playing is a clear influence on Johnny Marr on The Smiths' "Bigmouth Strikes Again") but his bandmates are right there with him. Dellar seems to reckon that Siouxsie drags things down a touch but this is a vintage performance from her and a classic example of her innate ability to take command of a song. For his part, Budgie's relentless drumming holds everything together as was typical for them. "Spellbound" is one of their finest singles and deserved a whole lot better than a routine Top 30 performance. It even deserved to be Single of the Fortnight, if only for a peak-of-powers Specials getting in their way.

Monsoon: "Ever So Lonely (Remixed by Ben Chapman)"

18 April 1990

"That's even better than the original."

— Michael

"The Indian vocals are brilliant as well."

— Hylton

"I reckon loads of people are going to be putting out records with that sound on it."

— Wayne

The group behind this Single of the Fortnight and the band putting it forth as one have their similarities. No, the Anglo-Indian dance pop of the former and the funk-pop-reggae of the latter have little in common but they were both trios with fleeting stints of chart success. They're remembered, if at all, for just one Top 20 hit apiece. Both must have seemed like they had bright futures ahead of them but it doesn't always work out that way.

And Why Not? were highly thought of enough to get themselves on the cover of Smash Hits as their second single "The Face" was climbing the charts. Not exactly a proven commodity but their cheerful grins probably made for a more salable product than the dour Sinead O'Connor, who was sitting at number one with "Nothing Compares 2 U". It's always possible that the late Richard Lowe got a bollocking for choosing these relative unknowns over the singer behind the most popular song in the country but hopefully the good folk at EMap understood his decision. In truth, having them headline an issue of ver Hits only seems odd in retrospect since their chart fortunes were beginning to fade. By the time I encountered them on Canadian video channel MuchMusic at the end of the year, they were pretty much done.

Sheila Chandra had been a teenage actress and singer when Monsoon were formed. She was already known to the public for playing the character of Sudhamani Patel on the long running TV series Grange Hill. Still working on her A levels at the time (in "English, History and Geography" according to a 1982 Bitz feature in Smash Hits), she had made the jump into the pop charts with "Ever So Lonely", a single that peaked at number twelve during a seven week residency in the Top 40. A fine performance for a first try and with a seventeen-year-old singer but follow-up "Shaki (The Meaning of Withing)" (it "shines on into a Karmic cascade" reckons at least one humble blogger) just missed and their promise soon faded. A brave but on-the-nose cover of The Beatles' "Tomorrow Never Knows" continued the downward trend.

And, yet, interest in Monsoon's one hit single remained, albeit mainly on the fringes. Early-eighties' pop may not have been ready for them but club and house music at the end of the decade had much more time for exotic sounds. Ben Chapman was a young DJ who was just establishing himself in 1990. His tastes were catholic enough for him to remix soul group The Christians and indie faves Jesus Jones. He was also respectful of the music he was tasked with revamping. Where others would drown a pop song in samples until it became a near-clone of current techno records, his remixes serviced the strengths of the acts. You could listen to this version of "Ever So Lonely" and easily assume that it was an organic work that hadn't been touched up in a studio.

Of course, it had been touched up just not to a level approaching tastelessness (see below). The members of And Why Not? remember the original but they can tell that this version has an upside to it. Actually, it's a little surprising just how fresh this eight-year-old single is in their minds, especially given that this was well before the YouTube era. But I suppose an effective revamp of a popular song should try bring about feelings of old while managing to touch modern listeners. It's hard to say if many were listening in 1990 since Chapman's remix failed to chart but it may have gained a whole new life in the clubs.

Speaking of which, "Ever So Lonely" would be revived once again in 2002 by DJ Dave Lee under the moniker Jakatta. This time it managed to make the UK Top 10. I don't think it quite measures up to either Monsoon's original or this Chapman makeover but it has its charms all the same. Monsoon's one hit has managed to endure in a way that And Why Not?'s hasn't. All it would take for is a modern day DJ to remix "The Face" in a manner that captures its groovy lightness while placing it in the setting of EDM values. How difficult could that be?

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

ABC: "The Look of Love (1990 remix)"

"Reissue, repackage, repackage," a certain curmudgeonly singer once sang. New tracks on greatest hits/best of's are a mixed bag but they're generally preferable to remixes to promote a compilation. Chapman remixed "Ever So Lonely" in a loving manner but this Paul Staveley O'Duffy mix of ABC's classic from recent compilation Absolutely is a train wreck — and one that ABC members past and present were keen to distance themselves from (while label Phonogram issued it as a single without their approval, it's hard to believe the group could have even allowed it to go on their first greatest hits album). Comparing the two records, Wayne from And Why Not? says, "Monsoon works but this is all over the place". Well quite.

Happy Mondays: "Step On"

4 April 1990

"The Mondays aren't daft. People always liked the dance remixes of their singles more that the group's original versions, so this time they've made a dance record straight away."

— Tom Doyle

Generation X never had a 'Beatles on Ed Sullivan' moment that unified everyone. Nirvana and Public Enemy were probably the two acts that came closest to being spokespeople for us but they didn't speak for everyone — and, in fairness, neither of them were attempting to do so. It wasn't simply that some people didn't like these two groups, more that some were even indifferent to them — and that they, in turn, were indifferent or even hostile to some of their potential fans. Kurt Cobain had no time for racists, misogynists and homophobes and was uneasy with the high school jocks he despised being into his music. (This is all music to my ears though he had to ruin it by insisting at that no "lame ass limey bands" share the bill with them at the Redding Festival) Similarly, Chuck D wasn't overly pleased with middle class white boys listening to Public Enemy albums. For the first time, we defined our tastes in music while groups were defining who was allowed to be into them.

It's possible that the Madchester acts wouldn't have approved of a Canadian fan like myself. I was tall and gangly, had spots, bad dress sense, wasn't popular, did poorly in school and was extremely moody. (Come to think of it, I was exactly the sort of fan they had in mind) I liked some of the old school indie acts like Morrissey and New Order but I needed something new to come along. The baggy groups had been around for a while back in the UK but they didn't mean anything across the pond. It would take a while for them to get exposure in North America and even then they were met with mostly indifference.

But I was fortunate to get a jump on most people in Canada, even if I was still miles behind the British. I was taking the bus to school one morning in the autumn of 1990 when my good friend Ethan lent me the copy of Now That's What I Call Music 17 that he got from a family member who'd been over to Britain that summer. He was very much a rock guy at the time — The Beatles were his first love but he was generally well-disposed to the majority of guitar bands from the sixties and seventies — and he didn't have much time for all that modern pop stuff on Now 17. He knew I was missing the UK and it was as if he let me borrow this comp out of a sense of possibly filling a whole in my heart or something. At no point did he recommend I "listen to the second side of the first tape" or suggest songs that he was fond of. For all I knew, he'd never given it a listen at this point.

Ethan wasn't wrong to be disinterested in the bulk of it, particularly most of the second cassette which leaned heavily on the techno-dance side. Twenty-six of Now 17's thirty-two tracks are somewhere between wan and pretty good but none of them are ear-catching enough to merit much discussion. The six remaining tracks were simply mind blowing, songs I'd never encountered before and had never dreamed of. Just to have one of these present would have made Now 17 worthwhile listen but for there to be a half dozen of them qualifies it for one of the most important albums I've ever heard (This was a big time for me since I was also exploring Pet Shop Boys' Behaviour which is still my favourite album of all time) Five of those songs were Adamski's "Killer" (see below), Beats International's "Dub Be Good to Me", Depeche Mode's "Enjoy the Silence", Orbital's "Chime" and Primal Scream's "Loaded" (The House of Love's "Shine On" and Jimmy Somerville's "Read My Lips (Enough Is Enough)" were two other selections that I loved but they weren't nearly as earth shaking as the others). The sixth was "Step On" by Happy Mondays.

Manchester's baggy scene had been building slowly over the late-eighties. UK indie had been lorded over by The Fall, New Order and The Smiths who all hailed from there but other groups from the area ended up being left behind. (An odd trend of this next generation of acts was that they weren't especially young: members of the Mondays, James and The Stone Roses were in fact a year or so older than Smiths Johnny Marr, Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce) Fortunately, they were trapped in a scene that was still thriving. Acid house had shown the way forward: down in the south of England this meant electronics and house beats but up north it became all about groups with guitars trying to carve out much the same sound.

In this issue of Smash Hits, both Tom Doyle and Sylvia Patterson make note of Happy Mondays and their similarities to the Sex Pistols. Beyond the obvious sleaziness shared the the two groups (something they have in common with plenty of other bands as well), this isn't a comparison I ever thought of before. (Given how rapidly the Mondays would implode over the next couple years, there may have been something to it) What I failed to notice was the modest musical abilities of the two groups. "Step On" was so brilliant that I was convinced that the Mondays were actually a brilliant band, not a bunch of chancers who made the most of their rudimentary skills.

In any case, what difference does it make if a band is of limited talent if they can record songs as great as either "Pretty Vacant" and "Step On"? Possessing an abundance of spirit, band camaraderie and a strangely charismatic vocalist-dancer combo of Shaun Ryder and Bez, Happy Mondays had some elements going for them. Where the Pistols couldn't play (itself an exaggeration), ver Mondays didn't need to. Producers and remixers did the heavy lifting and everyone knew it. "Wrote for Luck" is a hopeless work in their own hands and only gained life when Paul Oakenfold and Vince Clarke were tapped in to transform it into the magnificent "W.F.L.", in which most of the Mondays are pushed to the back as far as possible. Instead of them soundtracking a rave, they are there to witness one, something that stands out even more in the accompanying promo. "Hallelujah" got them into the Top 40 and a memorable spot on Top of the Pops but its remixes are what make it special.

As if remixing themselves, "Step On" is a series of bits of guitar, piano, bass and drums that have been looped over five minutes. It ought to be boring and predictable but the sheer simplicity, the addictive vibes and Ryder's astonishing performance turn it into an incredible single. There isn't a sample of "Funky Drummer", nor Paul Simenon's bassline from "Guns of Brixton" (used to outstanding effect on fellow Now 17 standout "Dub Be Good to Me"), nor those ubiquitous "whoo's" and "yeah's" that were all over early-nineties' house — this is all Mondays playing the same two bars over and over and what more could you want? Ryder's growling vocal is a wonder and his extended whistle near the end even smacks of showing off.

The single also managed to completely overshadow John Kongos' original from 1971. Then known as "He's Gonna Step on You Again", it is an engaging enough record that fully merited its Top 5 placing. Swampy blues rock that hints at both country and glam is remarkable enough but it absolutely pales next to this remake. The majority of cover versions fail to match the originals, while others become so well known that they lead listeners to assume that they are the originals. In this case, however, "Step On" was known to be a cover, albeit one that had rendered its antecedent redundant. No one was going back to explore Kongos, we were all too busy getting into Happy Mondays.

They would fade from the scene but their influence on me would remain. By 1992 I was into the likes of The Wonder Stuff, EMF, Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine and Blur but this music wasn't able to knock me over the way I had been two years' earlier. While English Language Arts class with Mr Harker was my favourite subject in school at that time, I was also into shop class. I wasn't particularly good at making anything but I was interested in trying my hand at photography and printing (I even attempted welding to very little success). Mr Monahan suggested that we could print a sign or even make a t-shirt via silk screening and I chose to do both. I made a very nice Pet Shop Boys Behaviour shirt while the sign read 'HAPPY MONDAYS STEP ON'. Once again, I was living in the past. So much for getting the jump on everyone.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Adamski: "Killer"

Another highlight from Now 17 that took its sweet old time elsewhere. In spite it's month topping the British chart, "Killer" was a non-factor on the other side of the Atlantic until the spring of 1991 when vocalist Seal took off with "Crazy" and then usurped Adamski by taking full artist credit with a vastly inferior version. (As Tom Ewing has said, the singer didn't deserve top billing since he had so much around him to compete with) One of several top flight number one singles of 1990, it proved impossible for either Adamski or Seal to top. And who can blame either of them? You try bettering something as wonderful as this.