Roxette: "Listen to Your Heart" / Billy Idol: "L.A. Woman"

25 July 1990 (with more "wry" "observations" here)

"Wouldn't buy it, though."

"I met Billy's mum and dad once actually, and it's funny but I never thought of Billy Idol having a mum and dad."

— "Uncle" Phil Collins

Remixes, dance-rock, cover versions, Euro-dance: the likes of grunge, shoegaze, jungle and whatever it was that Hootie & The Blowfish and Spin Doctors played was still ahead of us but the nineties were well underway. But try telling that to Roxette, Billy Idol and, indeed, Phil Collins. To all of them, it was as if 1983 had never ended.

Collins was a good deal older than your average pop star moonlighting as a singles reviewer in Smash Hits, especially by 1990 when the magazine was trending younger. On the other hand, guest critics by this point were on the downswing of their careers. Matt Goss did the singles in the first issue of the new year and was then followed by London Boys, two of the blokes behind Jive Bunny and the members of And Why Not. Not exactly pop's hottest acts. If anything, our Phil was still going strong even if his UK chart placements were starting to peak lower. (As he accurately guesses, not a whole lot of people bought his latest, the Britain-only "That's Just the Way It Is", no doubt because "everybody's bought" his latest blockbuster album ...But Seriously, even though I sure as hell didn't)

The eighties were already starting to fall out of fashion but Collins was having none of it. Roxette's "Listen to Your Heart" is essentially a heavy metal slow song — for the love of god, even the video plays into this with tropes such as a swaying audience and hard rock poses from the band which could've been straight out of a Whitesnake promo — while Billy Idol's cover of "L.A. Woman" is all eighties' lust and eighties' pomp blanketing a seventies' record that needed no frills. It may not have been acknowledged at the time but the trio of Collins, Idol and Roxette might as well have been the new dinosaur acts for a new decade.

Roxette have been enjoying a bit of a critical re-evaluation as of late. They did very well for a little while but they became irrelevant by about 1992 when listeners really started getting the eighties out of their systems. From then until quite recently they were regarded as naff. (Say what you will about a group like Kajagoogoo but at least they were of their time and not clinging to a bygone era) Nostalgia for eighties and nineties acts seemed to forget all about them. Then, singer Marie Fredriksson passed away near the end of 2019 and Generation Xers remembered how much they liked them way back when. It's not inconceivable that the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame will induct them at some point.

The story of how Roxette broke through in the America has practically become a legend. What seldom gets mentioned is how the British stubbornly tried to resist them, to the extent that it mirrors how the US attempted to ignore fellow Swedes ABBA fifteen years earlier. True, "The Look" gave them a Top 10 hit in May of 1989 but follow ups "Dressed for Success" and a first try for "Listen to Your Heart" missed the fun forty altogether. It was only after the syrupy "It Must Have Been Love" returned them to the British charts that their earlier flops got a second chance. Neither of them did anywhere close to the same roaring business they attracted in the US but they both did all right, ensuring that Roxette would be respectable chart regulars in Britain while remaining monsters elsewhere — at least for a little while. Of the two, "Listen to Your Heart" is the sturdier record. As Collins says, it's a bit Bryan Adams (the poor bits) and a bit Heart (the rest) and it had been done a million times before. Very bland, very cliched but I can listen to it from end to end; "Dressed for Success" is just pitiful.

While Roxette still had another year or two of hits to go, Billy Idol was fast becoming forgotten as early as 1990. Where he had once cultivated a diverse cross-section of listeners from pop kids to metallers and from punk holdovers to assorted of castoffs and misfits, Sir Billiam audience had by this point dwindled down to his core following. Middle age suited Collins and Sting but only seemed to make Idol seem even more ridiculous than he already was. Old school punks no longer seemed to have a place at the table (a returning Adam Ant seemed to be an even sadder proposition) when there were sufficient hardcore acts and indie bands for outsiders to embrace.

His — gasp! — fourth Single of the Fortnight (joining Elvis Costello, The Cure and Pet Shop Boys in this once-exclusive group), "L.A. Woman" is nevertheless Idol's weakest record to date. There's much to recommend in the original by The Doors: it's intense, it's them at their grubby blue-rock best, at times it's poppy and catchy, Jim Morrison gives a ballsy but not highfalutin performance and they capture a city they knew all too well. None of that can be found in Idol's rendition however. It opens sounding much more like Kenny Loggins' "Footloose" than anything The Doors would ever have touched and it's only downhill from there. Subtlety goes out the, er, door. Idol's Morrison impersonation is spot on at times (at other points he sounds either like Peter Murphy or someone doing a poor Billy Idol impersonation) but Morrison himself didn't sound like Morrison by the end of his life. 

The only thing that saves "L.A. Woman" is that I buy Idol being enraptured by a gorgeous groupie from Venice Beach in a way that locals wouldn't appreciate. Morrison sang it as if he'd been around these girls his entire life; Idol comes at it from the perspective of a British rock 'n' roller living it up in the California sun for the first time in his life. There's a tradition of New Yorkers arriving in L.A. and despising it while Brits who descend upon the west coast end up living it up on endless groupies and a sea of vodka. Idol always made you believe that he made the most of his rock lifestyle and all its assorted "accoutrements".

~~~~~

Also of some cop

New Kids on the Block: "Tonight"

It seemed like the long and depressing reign of the New Kids was never going to end. Luckily, they were just about to come apart and the a-bit-better-than-I-remember "Tonight" gives clues to their undoing. As everyone knows by now, your best days are clearly behind you if you go into being self-referential ("Taught you 'bout hangin' tough / As long as you've got the right stuff...": did kids who weren't me think that quoting themselves was cool at the time?) and any thoughts that they were representing the future of music had been dashed by them suddenly trying to sound like The Beatles. And then there's the fact that they had put out a single all about how much they loved their fans at precisely the same time that they were being knocked in the press for lip-synching at their concerts. Still, at least Danny, Donnie, Joey, Jon and Jordan weren't living in the past. In fact, you could say that between being a boy band, poorly trying to ape The Beatles, miming to their own recordings and being meta with their lyrics the New Kids were paving the way for the nineties.

The Undertones: "Julie Ocean"

23 July 1981

"Lush balladeering might not sound like typical Undertones country, but the passionate intensity that distinguishes all their work is here in spades."

— Johnny Black

Smash Hits was in its infancy as a top pop mag in the autumn of 1978 when along came a single from little-known Ulster punks The Undertones. It didn't exactly set the UK charts ablaze but it would eventually take on a life of its own, particularly as its reputation grew due to the endorsement of a national treasure. DJ John Peel would admit that "Teenage Kicks" delighted him so much the first time he heard it that cried and he went to his grave a quarter of a century later still rating it as the greatest single of all time. No record even enjoyed such a credible recommendation but it remains a favourite of many who have that fondness for old school punk. 

It's a fine recording even if I personally don't think it quite lives up to Peel's tears of joy. Like other punk classics — The Sex Pistols' "Pretty Vacant", The Clash's "White Riot", The Damned's "New Rose" — I find that it typically sounds better when it bounces around in my head than when I actually listen to it. The iconic riff tends to be caticher and more vigourously played, the pace is faster and the vocals are screamed in appropriate punk fashion rather than using Feargal Sharkey's much more restrained approach. I've heard played by Asian bar bands and at open mic nights and even in those circumstances it tends to be more thrilling than the actual recording. I have no ear for melody and misfit amateurs don't know what they're doing but, hey, that's the punk ideal, isn't it?

"Teenage Kicks" ended up overshadowing the rest of The Undertones' stellar run of late-seventies' singles. Records such as "Jimmy Jimmy", "My Perfect Cousin" and "Wednesday Week" may not have caused Britain's hippest DJ to go all dewy-eyed but they are every bit as good as their much ballyhooed debut. The streak of Top 40 hits kept going into 1981 with the jubilant "It's Going to Happen!". An obvious throwback to sixties pop, it is one of their most confident and irresistible recordings. Yet, it stands alone on their third album Positive Touch and it must have been a struggle to come up with a potential second single from a cohesive LP lacking in standouts. It seems like deep cuts like "When Saturday Comes" or "You're Welcome" would have been more sensible options for their next 7" but someone thought otherwise. That simple and delicate number that clocks in under two minutes was chosen instead.

Johnny Black seems impressed with what The Undertones managed to do with "Julie Ocean" and, in a sense, he's absolutely right. There's not much to the original LP version but the additions pad things out enough that it was given a new life. More than doubled in length, it nevertheless avoids being repetitive. Sharkey shouts "That's typical girl!" a few times and the always tight musical unit stretches out towards the end; if you didn't know any better, you'd swear it was meant to sound this way all along.

An admirable effort but my chief sentiment towards it remains indifference. Even with the extras and longer running time it smacks of an album cut. It's possible they wanted something that wasn't "typical Undertones country" but then they shouldn't have been surprised by it placing outside of "typical Undertones chart territory". Positive Touch seemed set to establish them as an albums act to match The Clash, Elvis Costello & The Attractions and The Jam — Ian Cranna in ver Hits argued that it was their first LP to do them "justice" — but at the price of their abilities as an exquisite singles band. Some manage to make the transition from one to the other (though the best groups are able to be both at the same time) but it eluded The Undertones. They no longer made DJ's cry and no longer made the charts on a regular basis. Nice try though.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Stevie Wonder: "Happy Birthday"

"A million miles from his best", concludes Black. The twin hit single follies of "Ebony and Ivory" and "I Just Called to Say I Love You" are generally cited as Stevie Wonder bottoming out as a creative force (even if Macca is usually given most of the blame for the former) but the artist of the seventies was already in decline as the start of the eighties. It's hard to find fault in a campaign to get Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday recognized as a national holiday in the US but this limp track just about manages to do so. 1980's Hotter Than July is highly regarded in spite of it being a bit of a drop off from the heights of his '72-'76 peak to end all peaks but it lacks the heartbreaking melancholy of his best work. Now, I don't expect a celebratory composition such as this to be weighed down by Wonder's sorrow but there's little of the attention to detail in his earlier, much more effective tribute to an idol of his "Sir Duke". Basic as it is, it's remarkable that it is so forgettable. Still, kudos to Stevie for his good intentions and successful result even if bland songs always seem to capture the public's attention. 

(See my original review here)

Monie Love: "Monie in the Middle"

11 July 1990

"Monie delivers a high speed rap in which she pretends to be a schoolgirl in love with, but not doing so well at it because at the same time she's being pursued by a complete lunkhead who's totally and pathetically in love with her, thus leaving her "in the middle"."

— William Shaw

"I see hip hop today as school", Monie Love told someone from Smash Hits' Bitz section in the summer of 1989. "My teachers are Public Enemy, my classmates are the likes of The Jungle Brothers, De La Soul, Boogie Down Productions, MC Mellow, MC Lyte..." She was righter than she knew. If Chuck D was that stern Language Arts instructor who you ended up learning far more from than you ever would have expected, then The Jungle Brothers were those unruly boys who never gave Mr. D a moment's peace. If Flavor Flav was the popular Social Studies teacher who coached the hopeless junior boys volleyball team and ran a board games club in his classroom over the lunch break, then the members of De La Soul were the lads who got involved in activities but never bothered doing their homework (just my kind of people!). If Professor Griff was the scary librarian with sketchy views on race and gender, then Monie Love was that crotchety old fool's worst nightmare. (I can keep this going too: if PE's anonymous armed guards were the home ec and shop teachers no one cared about, then MC Mellow and MC Lyte were the students who no one recognized while flipping through the yearbook; I can't seem to come up with student-teacher comparisons to Terminator X though)

Of course, what Love probably meant was that she and her Daisy Age rap cohorts were learning from Public Enemy but I like to think that they were acquiring lessons and skills from them while disregarding others. That's an effective student-teacher relationship. I hope she has subsequently become the teacher herself, passing on what she learned to the next generation. She'd have a lot to contribute to a group of impressionable hip hop youngsters and that's not even touching the fact that she had a lot to say about her education at the time.

"Monie in the Middle" is one of many hip hop singles of the time with a video set in a school (just off the top of my head there's also De La Soul's "Me, Myself and I" and Young MC's "Principal's Office" but I'm certain there are plenty more). But where the majority of the others deal with students having troubles with their teachers, this one concerns that worst kind of classroom love triangle: Monie in between a "knucklehead" loser who wants to be with her and the "homeboy" who apparently likes her back. I say "apparently" because she's composing letters to him just as the jerk she spurned was doing for her — and there's nothing in the lyrics to suggest that he hadn't "scrunched up the letter" in turn. Is Monie so obsessed about the silly twit in her class with a crush because she sees a bit of herself in him? (There probably wasn't much she could learn from teachers Mr. D, Mr. Flav and Griff the Giant Git)

In any case, the song is a good warning call for guys like myself who could get a little too hung up on girls that clearly had no interest in them. (In my experience, however, not a whole lot changed even after some began to reciprocate my desires) Sadly, few of us teenage dweebs were unable to heed it because not enough people bothered to go out and buy it. It seems hard to believe that "Monie in the Middle" didn't even get a nominal Top 40 placing. Were spotty British youths turned off by her being so forthright with them? If that is the case, then where were the empowered girls who should've felt that they had an ally? (I never descended so low that I followed anyone into the "ladies' bathroom" but I'm sure more than enough sad types who'd now be regarded as incels would've done so) Overt feminism in pop seldom does as well as it deserves and this was no exception.

With some stellar production from Andy Cox and David Steel of Fine Young Cannibals (possibly returning the favour from Love's excellent rap on the excellent remix of FYC's 1989 hit "She Drives Me Crazy") and samples from jazz and samba, "Monie in the Middle" is a fantastic single and should have at least matched the Top 20 performances of the so-so "Grandpa's Party" and the marvelous "It's a Shame (My Sister)", which came out later in 1990. She had been all about going to school but this isn't something that can be done forever. Perhaps the first sign that her approach was set to change was the uncharacteristically mature cover art of her debut album Down to Earth, which manages to make her look like an earnest R&B vocalist. Maturity is always difficult for young artists to deal with but luckily we'll be meeting Monie Love again on this blog so we can see how she managed. Stay tuned.

~~~~~

Also of some cop

The Soup Dragons: "I'm Free"

From the end of June in 1991 until I finished school four years later, "I'm Free" was my start of the summer holidays anthem of choice — but why did it fail to catch on with anyone else? Celebratory and with a chorus that everyone can singalong with instantly, it has both terrace chant and high school graduation theme written all over it. An early Jagger-Richards composition, it was nothing special when The Rolling Stones first recorded it but kudos to The Soup Dragons (or their management, or their record label) for seeing potential in it. Happy Mondays had set the template for the baggy cover version with their still stunning rendition of "Step On" but the choir, the dancefloor beat and the memorable toasting courtesy of Junior Reid ramps it up to another levels of joy (even if I'd still take "Step On" over "I'm Free" in a pinch). You can all have your bittersweet numbers by bloody Green Day or Natalie Merchant as you bid farewell to school or the job you hate or as you move to another country but I'll have this. I might even have it played at my funeral, which would be laugh if only for me.

The Stone Roses: "One Love"

27 June 1990

"Not before time, eh?"

— Alex Kadis

Oh, you don't know the half of it, Alex. Bemoaning the fact that The Stone Roses had been seemingly at work on their latest single for "about 20 years", this good pop music critic was only getting the faintest of glimpses of what would plague Ian Brown, John Squire, Mani and Reni as they spent years struggling to follow their celebrated debut album and even carried over to their successful but still botched reformation. Waiting a couple extra months for their latest record suddenly doesn't seem like such an ordeal, does it?

If 1989 was the year that The Stone Roses broke through, 1990 would be the year that they fully benefited from it. It had been a slow process. Brown and Squire had been together for much of the eighties but they were just another singer-guitarist twosome yearning to be the next Morrissey and Marr. (Hard as it may be to believe, their both a few months older than The Smiths' guitarist) But if any group proved the value of sticking to it, it was ver Roses. Early singles flopped but they gradually built up a following (they infamously used shady tactics to upstage fellow Mancunian group James at a concert in 1988; a pity they didn't also nick some of their rivals' staying power while they were at it). After seven or eight years of graft, they were suddenly an overnight sensation.

Sitting on stacks of product, indie label Silvertone flooded the market. In their first year of chart relevance they had five singles reach the Top 40, with a sixth, a reissue of the twee 1987 recording "Sally Cinnamon", just missing out. With their self-titled album selling steadily, it was the stand-alone singles that proved to have much more commercial potential. The double A side of "Fool's Gold" and "What the World Is Waiting For" took them into the Top 10 in late 1989 and they repeated it early in the new year with a re-release of the Peter Hook-produced "Elephant Stone". A pair of great singles, to be sure, but the latter began to show signs of Morrissey-esque peaking in its first week before swiftly dropping off the hit parade. Their suddenly large fanbase was buying up their stuff but no one else was — something that would carry over with "One Love" and subsequent singles. But the critics were praising them, their Spike Island concert that May was a success and their records just kept selling. What could possibly go wrong?

It is perhaps with all this in mind that Alex Kadis warns of a "danger, when reviewing a Stone Roses single, of letting their immense reputation guide you rather than the true quality of their record". It's a wise piece of advice and she reckons that "One Love" is brilliant all the same. But is it?

Critics have dialled back somewhat on their praise of The Stone Roses over the years and "One Love" is frequently considered a botch, even when held up against their allegedly overrated first album. Personally, I still like The Stone Roses, even if it's been quite some time since I was young and impressionable enough to fully appreciate it (It's a great example of an album that has aged well but listeners haven't) but I'm on board with why most people have nothing positive to say about this follow-up single. Even up against "Bye Bye Badman", the album's weak link, it doesn't measure up. While John Leckie had done a superb job producing their material up to this point, there's an unwelcome muddiness to the sound on this. While Squire's guitar playing is outstanding on their earlier stuff, he begins to overthink his role as the band's musical conscience and the song's overabundance of solos and riffs sets a clear precedence for 1994's Zeppelin-lite Second Coming.

Finally, a word about Kadis' view that the Roses were contenders while their competitors were just pretenders. To her, they have everything going for them while bands like Inspiral Carpets and The Charlatans — groups who Richard Lowe also pointed to as inferior copies of the Roses and Happy Mondays — are simply those we have to "make do" with while we wait for the big boys to return. Brown "sings with real charisma as opposed to mumbling infrequently into his fringe and looking non-commital". And yet, only one Madchester act would be in for the long haul. The Stone Roses got caught up in a protracted legal battle with their record company and then proved that they had nothing left in the creative tank. Happy Mondays made the most of their big year but they imploded on far too many drugs and their own indie label that couldn't handle them. Inspiral Carpets, granted, were never up to much but The Charlatans would come together in spite of their own hardships and they would assemble one of the stronger discographies of nineties UK pop-rock. They were relatively prolific (they put out three albums before the Roses had even finished working on their second) and kept refining their sound. (Singer Tim Burgess has even become something of a national treasure in the UK, a stark contrast from the madcap conspiracy theorist Brown) The Charlatans may have started off as clones but they eventually became The Stone Roses ought to have been. Again, you don't know the half of it, Alex.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Tanita Tikaram: "Thursday's Child"

A young woman who once told Smash Hits that Leonard Cohen would've been an adequate replacement for Clark Datchler (coincidentally, also reviewed on this page but I couldn't bring myself to give his offering a listen) in Johnny Hates Jazz. That's all you need to know about how Tanita Tikaram fitted in with late-eighties' pop. No wonder she seemed like a bit of a joke, even if she seemed incapable of telling one herself. When judged as a folk singer, however, she struck the right balance of pop sensibility and seriousness. Expecting her to have a sense of humour or to lighten up a bit is not unlike demanding a more serious side from De La Soul. Kadis regonises a tune in "Thursday's Child" but can't get passed how somber her nibs sounds. Fair enough, I suppose, but Tikaram does what she does best and there was no one like her. Except, of course, for possible future Johnny Hates Jazz member Leonard Cohen.

The Passions: "Skin Deep"

9 July 1981

"Not exactly commercial but brave and definitely Single Of The Week."

— Red Starr

This again? Longtime followers of this blog (cheers for that, by the way) will know that this is the same record that got this whole thing going way back in the spring of 2018. After posting on Tom Tom Club's "Wordy Rappinghood" two weeks ago I finally ran out of early Singles of the Fortnight — both acknowledged and inferred — and I decided to keep it going. Looking back at some of those first few posts on here I was struck by how little I had to say about some of them, how poor the writing was and, most of all, how I had very little idea what I was doing. But now that I am in the swing of this blog I think it's time that I did some revising. This entry is a complete re-write but others may just be edits of what I had previously scribbled — it all just depends on how satisfactory I reckon the originals to be. Links will be included at the bottom for anyone wishing to see what I had posted first time round. In addition, the 'Also Reviewed This Fortnight' section will sometimes cover a completely different secondary record, as is the case this time. As has been the case since February of 2020, these re-dos will be posted on alternate Saturdays.

A big thanks to everyone who has read all or some of this blog, whether out of genuine interest or pity (either way, I'll take it). Readership is low and I've struggled to build it up but I still hope to get more people interested. Please share or give me a comment on here or on social media. I'll even take some harsh criticism over being largely ignored.

~~~~~

I don't know about you but I have no need to ever see another one of those lists of so-called one-hit wonders. Nor do I have any desire to watch a YouTube video all about the '50 Greatest One-Hit Wonders of the Eighties'. I don't even wish to discuss them again once I'm done with this blog post — even if I reserve the right to go back on this promise in the future. One-Hit Wonders? How about 'More Original Discussion Topics on Social Media' instead?

So, yeah, I'm sick of hearing about them. But also, I'm not so sure there's much merit to a run down of one-hit wonders in the first place. For one thing, people tend to focus on the US charts. Dexys Midnight Runners had several hits in their native UK but just the one in America so they qualify, though I don't think I've ever heard the term applied to Styx who only had one hit in Britain. (And this doesn't even get to how an act did in other countries as well) In addition, it ignores the fact that having just one hit single is still better than none. Finally, and most significantly, it doesn't even matter all that much in the end. Are eighties and nineties artists beating themselves up for failing to duplicate their solitary chart success thirty and forty years later in spite of constantly being reminded of such? What good does belittling one of these bands do anyway? Why not celebrate acts on the fringes who were fortunate enough to get themselves on Top of the Pops and in the music mags and who now have fond memories of the experience instead?

The Passions are one such group. Initially on indie label Soho, they got themselves signed to Fiction, longtime home of The Cure. By 1981 they had been upgraded to Polydor, a major that had recently struck gold with The Jam. Not bad progress in the space of two years. (Like their better known label mates, The Passions were from the London area which no doubt helped them get the attention of big name moguls) Clearly someone saw something in them. Had they stayed on a tiny, enthusiast label, there would have been little chance for them on a national level.

were never able to translate the Top 30 performance of "I'm in Love with a German Film Star" from earlier in 1981 into further hits. Frankly, they were probably lucky just to have copped the one so they needn't have been too disappointed that no more were forthcoming. This isn't a knock against them: they put out some terrific singles right from debut release "Needles and Pills" in '79 but they never possessed the key to immediate, radio friendly pop; even "German Film Star" could have easily disappeared without trace. Bassist David Agar admitted to Smash Hits that the band tended to sell far more albums than singles so they knew the score.

Even still, the charts would have been a much better place had there been room for something as out there and as futuristic and as addictive as "Skin Deep" during the summer of 1981. Red Starr describes it as "much more aggressive" than it's more successful and better-remembered predecessor but that's not even the half of it. "German Film Star" could have been done by Young Marble Giants but "Skin Deep" is unlike anything you're likely to hear. If the tribal percussion brings to mind Talking Heads then the layers of guitar effects and robotic voices give it whole new depths. If Barbara Gogan's "indecipherable wailing" makes you think of Cocteau Twins then the steady funk grooves up the enjoyment level considerably. It's as if they were channeling new wave, post punk, blue-eyed soul, industrial, dream pop and world beat — genres and sub-genres that represented pop's past, present and future — all in one.

Yet, few were listening this time round. It's likely that such an intense record turned people off after their ethereal hit. How would it have gone over live though? While newcomers may have tried to tune it out, I can imagine longtime fans going crazy over it. And that's what they had left: a loyal cult following which hopefully grew after their stint of national exposure. Try telling their fans that they were just a one-hit wonder.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Spandau Ballet: "Chant No.1 (I Don't Need This Pressure On)"

The incessant rhythms and slick horns may indicate otherwise but Gary Kemp's clipped guitar playing and Tony Hadley trying just a little too hard to sound like a mix of Bryan Ferry and David Byrne give away that the Spands had glam and new wave values at heart. Or at least they once did. They were quicker out of the gate than New Pop rivals Duran Duran, Culture Club and Wham! but they blew their creative load an awful lot faster as well. Starr likes it in spite of the odd complaint (despite what I said above, I actually kind of like Hadley trying to sound like his idols: it's certainly preferrable to when he sounds too much like himself) and hopes that it's a "sign of better things to come" but I'm not so sure they ever managed to better "Chant No.1". A welcome reminder that these "clothes horses" sure could play though.

(See my original review here)

Urban Dance Squad: "Deeper Shade of Soul"

7 July 1990

"Being a townie, I've always liked things urban." (or something to that effect)

— Parker from The Thunderbirds

VER HITS Once Again Goes After Number One!!!

A few months' back, we looked at a singles review from Smash Hits' chief competitor Number One. It was one I enjoyed blogging about even though it was from an issue that I never actually purchased. Then again, neither is this one. My sister found it in a magazine rack in a Calgary bookstore. She brought it home, let me look through it and I never bothered giving it back. Can't recall her making much of a fuss about it either. Had it been the Hits she'd brought home that day, I wouldn't have been as likely to have assumed ownership.

Overpriced imported issues of ver Hits didn't seem to be available in western Canada so I had to make do with Number One. And though I was starved of British music journalism, it wasn't something I sought out very often. (I will probably write about the singles from the one other volume I picked up the following summer once I get to that time period) Nevertheless, it was a treat to have a second rate pop mag from my short-lived home. It was great being able to catch up with some old favourites who hadn't managed to travel across the Atlantic while I also appreciated the opportunity to get to know some newer acts that also weren't coming to a record shop near me.

The singles in this issue were reviewed by Aloysius "Nosey" Parker from cult TV series The Thunderbirds. I had seen a handful of episodes of those crazy puppets piloting spacescrafts and rescuing other puppets in peril but, as you can no doubt see from how I just described it, the show didn't make a huge impression on me. I know that Parker looks like a snooty English butler and it might be either a villain or anit-hero but not much else. In researching this I discovered that he even used his notoriety to cut a pop record with F.A.B., a techno unit that I'll be discussing in the future. The result was "Thunderbirds Are Go" and it provided him with a Top 5 hit that summer. Admitting to Tom Doyle that he had to "move with the times", his metamorphosis as MC Parker (a name like 'Aloysius' simply wouldn't do) wasn't easy given his past life saving the planet but it was a role proved capable of. But could he do the same in evaluating the singles of other pop stars?

As you can see, there is currently no link available for this issue of Number One for the simple matter of it not having been posted. I will rectify this if and when some kindly soul gets round to putting it up online. I'd do so if (a) I still had the copy I "borrowed" from my sister and (b) I knew how to do so. Perhaps one day.

~~~~~

I once figured that I knew the UK charts so well that I could tell immediately if a new single would be a hit or not. Mind you, this was while I was back in Canada and a year had passed since I had any kind of life in Britain. Suffice it to say, I was almost always incorrect. The British weren't going to go for New Kids on the Block, surely! R&B romeos like Color Me Badd and All-4-One? The Brits would see right through that crap! "Achy Breaky Heart"? Nah! (I was wrong on all of 'em)

I had a little more luck when calling a hit rather than a flop but this was still guesswork. Reading the singles in this issue of Number One, I was struck by Parker's interest in this rap/rock/funk tune that he picked as his single of the week and figured it was going to be absolutely massive back in Britain. North Americans weren't going to go for it but my chums over the water were going to be all over it. (I really shouldn't have taken the "thoughts" a decrepit old puppet so seriously)

So I figured it was a dead cert hit in the UK and all over Europe and hoped that I'd at least have the chance to sample it in Canada. And it didn't take long to make it in North America. By the end of the summer it was being played on a semi-regular basis on MuchMusic, Canada's answer to MTV. And that silly old puppet was correct, "Deeper Shade of Soul" was a banger — and it remains one to this day.

And, yet, it failed to spark much interest back in Britain. Even more surprisingly, it was a hit in the US and nearly cracked the Top 20. Sure, Americans were at long last starting to accept hip hop but MC Hammer was its biggest name at the time and he was as pop as rap got. Cutesy Young MC was big and so was rugged, sex 'n' drugs man Tone Loc. Public Enemy and NWA had the political edge. LL Cool J was all about being positive. 2 Live Crew was there to shock everyone. But hip hop that had guitars and old grooves and sounded as if it could come apart at any moment? No, I didn't think the Americans would go for it.

But go for it they did and they were right to do so. As I say, "Deeper Shade of Soul" was easily the finest rap number I'd heard up to that point, one that had a chorus that stayed with me for years until I rediscovered it on YouTube. Even now, it's still a remarkable experience. Rap-rock didn't always work and it often smacked of novelty but when done right there was nothing like it. Die Totenhosen and Fab Five Freddy's own attempt was brilliant enough but this was a huge step forward and one that Urban Dance Squad never quite managed to better, though they did go on to record several more fine records. Parker and I thought it would've been bigger elsewhere but at least it took off in a part of the world that needed it. That old puppet knows his stuff.

~~~~~

Also Released This Week

James: "Come Home"

Parker isn't so fussed by yet another baggy group that had emerged that summer. ("Come Home? These lads should go home") Of course, James only had a fling with indie dance and this was it. With Tim Booth's customary melancholic lyrics, "Come Home" is right at home with the rest of their very fine material but it's understandable that everyone figured they were yet another group jumping on the baggy bandwagon, especially once producer Flood had got his hands on it. A modest Top 40 hit but one that was gearing them up for a big stretch from 1991-93 and, ultimately, material sufficient enough to piece together the finest greatest hits album of the nineties. What does some old puppet posing as an MC know anyway? Come Home when she's on top, chaps.

N/A

13 June 1990

"Due to the fact that there are absolutely no really ace pop affairs on display this fortnight, Single Of The Fortnight has been cancelled. Here is a picture of The Reynolds Girls instead."

— Sylvia Patterson, friend to the stars (in spite of her criticism)

So it has come to this in a down year for pop songs: a venerable Smash Hits critic has given up. There have been poor crops before and god knows there are going to be plenty more to come but this is the first time since all the way back in 1981 that a Single of the Fortnight has not been chosen. Not only that but Sylvia Patterson has actually gone out of her way to cancel the whole thing. I would have inferred a SOTF but for the fact that she makes it all too clear that she'd rather go without than have something substandard take the honour. I can't say I blame her since this is a wretched crop of new releases, quite possibly the worst to date. At best, I am indifferent to a couple of these but the rest all suck.

The reviewer photo for the singles shows Patterson with her head down next to a beaming, shiny-cheeked Christian James, leader of one-hit wonders Halo James. Given all of her encounters with the likes of Mick Hucknall, New Order, The Housemartins, Oasis and many others, she was indeed a "friend to the stars". The bulk of her very fine autobiography I'm Not with the Band deals with how chummy she could be with pop types. I read it a few years ago — not long after starting up this blog, in fact — and was initially turned off by all the name dropping until I realised that she was an excellent critic in spite of that. Though this would erode in the music press over the course of the decade, it was possible back in 1990 to rip a group or singer's single or LP to shreds one moment and then be enjoying a pint with them the next. And no one better balanced the two than the great Sylvia Patterson.

Here are my own thoughts on the eleven records that she couldn't find anything nice to say about.

Alannah Myles: "Love Is"

My junior high used to play cassettes between periods in place of a a traditional school bell. We were free to bring in our own tapes — something I did on a regular basis — but when no one bothered to do so they had to fall back on a pair they had in the principal's office. This horrible rocker was on one of them. It was as if school administration wanted to prove that having double math on a Wednesday could be made that much worse.

London Boys: "Chapel of Love"

I had never heard this song prior to this week yet I knew exactly how it would sound. Our Sylv reckons it's more of the same from the days of "Requiem" but it's more of the same but a lot worse. London Boys did banger after banger with their first two hits but that's sadly as far as it went. I wouldn't demand to have it turned off if it somehow came on the radio but I won't be in any hurry to willingly listen to it anytime soon either.

Del Amitri: "Move Away Jimmy Blue"

Another one I was unfamiliar with. Scots groups have a tendency to try to sound American (no doubt over fears that they might otherwise end up sounding English) and none more so than Del Amitri. Like a lot of their stuff, I don't hate it as much as I feel I ought to. Not exactly a ringing endorsement, I know. A band in dire need of some irony though it isn't the worst Scottish record up for consideration this fortnight. 

Craig McLachlan & Check 1-2: "Mona"

Wait, isn't this "Love Is" by Alannah Myles? Henry from Neighbours and basically the same character from Home & Away was looking to a carve out a music career not unlike Kylie and Jason, only Craig was going to prove that he was into real ale rawk. Far less convincing than SAW dreck on its worst day and a sad way for youngsters to be introduced to the great Bo Diddley. Somehow the only big hit of this sad bunch.

Kim Wilde: "Time"

Patterson doesn't dislike this one but she doesn't have a great deal positive to say about it either. Hard to believe this kind of thing was still being made in the nineties but it came up well short of the Top 40 so no one was convinced even then. "Time" to rediscover your dark side, Kim. Or get into gardening. Either way.

Wee Papa Girl Rappers: "Get in the Groove"

Had Sylvia held her nose, this would have been the SOTF but it's pretty lousy so I won't be taking her to task for the snub. The Wees had never pushed the envelope but this was still a considerable decline from "Wee Rule" and "Heat It Up" two years earlier. If Kim Wilde proved that doing the same old thing wasn't going to guarantee a hit then the Lawrence sisters were showing that trying to stay current wasn't always the best option either.

Glen Goldsmith: "On the One"

I'm sorry, this isn't the guy who was in Heaven 17? Oh, is that Glen Gregory? Can't say much about this one since it isn't up on YouTube at the moment. But at least that means I don't hate it.

World Party: "Message in the Box"

The anti-Del Amitri: a band I dislike more than I probably ought to. There's nothing remotely wrong with this only it's been done a million times before by better groups. It's strange that power pop can be so energetic but also so utterly boring at the same time. And, yes, its cause isn't aided by older types who claim this is "real music".

The Brat Pack: "I'm Never Gonna Give You Up"

Utter rubbish that went nowhere. In a sea of crap records, it's like a giant build up of toilet flushings poured into the ocean en masse. Except that at least bottom feeders like catfish and prawns could gorge themselves on that detritus whereas this record...

The Scottish World Cup Squad & Friends: "Say It with Pride"

First up in a special 'World Cup Fever Section' sidebar. With a pair of Top 5 hits and another one making number 20, Scotland's World Cup records have generally performed better than Scotland's World Cup teams. Not so much this time however: the Tartan Army's favourite side put up a solid effort against Brazil and Costa Rica only to come up short while this lame chant flopped and deserved to do worse. A great example of just how refreshing New Order's "World in Motion" was since this is what they were like prior to it. Plenty still sound just like this crap.

The Pogues & The Dubliners: "Jack's Heroes"

Ireland failed to qualify for Italia '90 Ireland qualified for Italia '90 and did well in reaching the quarter finals, still the country's best World Cup result. As for their theme, it's decent and leans on the piss up-singalong side of the things much more than the footie cliches. Patterson once "did" the singles alongside chief Pogue Shane McGowan but being a pro she doesn't let her friendship get in the way of giving this record a bit of a bollocking. It's not that bad and would've been my SOTF albeit by default.

~~~~~

Not Reviewed This Fortnight

MC Hammer: "U Can't Touch This"

Not reviewed by Patterson but included in the 'Also Released This Fortnight' section (described by Sylv as a "load of old tosh"), "U Can't Touch This" was one of the most memorable singles of 1990 even if its chart performance ended up being lower than what you might have expected. (Listen to this episode of the great Chris Molanphy's Hit Parade podcast to learn about why its American fortunes were torpedoed in spite of the fact that it would have likely topped the Hot 100 for several weeks) Better than any of the dismal efforts above, it no longer has that faint air of nauseating positivity to it that used to turn me off. It sure was overplayed back in Hammer's heyday but it's not so bad now that I give it a listen about once a decade.