Saint Etienne: "Who Do You Think You Are" / "Hobart Paving"

12 May 1993 (with more Britpop bitchiness here)

"I think they have real trouble having those sorts of faces and sounding like they do."

— Alex James

"It's wonderful shopping mall music. It's shopping mall music with attitude. That's what it is."

— Damon Albarn

First off, let's take that great, charming prat Alex James to task for the above quote. I know we can't all look like Dave Rowntree but is there something objectionable about the way Saint Etienne members Bob Stanley, Pete Wiggs and Sarah Cracknell look? Surely the Blur bassist and future Tory-supporting buffoon has seen Bobby Gillespie at some point, if not in the flesh then certainly on screen and/or in print at some point. While it may be that Stanley and Wiggs aren't over-blessed in terms of looks (though they're hardly ugly or anything), what of Cracknell who was an absolute knock out and probably still is.

To be fair to James, it's possible he's clumsily making the point that the combination of their pop sound with their supposedly rough appearances are too much of a contrast for pop stardom. It's possible but is it especially relevant? Given that Blur themselves had both James and singer Damon Albarn as pinups along with the geeky chic appeal of guitarist Graham Coxon (and, lest we forget, Rowntree, who was obviously trying to cover up his good looks by trying to appear like he worked in high street betting shop) and were also struggling with this whole pop game, it probably didn't matter either way.

It's hard to imagine Blur existing prior to the nineties. Yes, there had always been a place for The Kinks and XTC to serve up similarly in-your-face Britishness but they weren't composed of members that girls fancied and that other fellows longed to emulate. (That said, I could be wrong when it comes to The Kinks but I can't get past Ray Davies' slappable face) For their part, it's equally difficult to picture Saint Etienne being around earlier either. Though irony and knowing winks had been long-established pop music traditions, the genius of Stanley, Wiggs and Cracknell was that they were able to marry them to a surprisingly earnest retro chic that was only able to thrive once the fairlight polish had worn off from the eighties.

It's actually kind of a pity that Stanley or Wiggs never tried to pull an Ian McCulloch by claiming that Saint Etienne could easily have been Blur. Not, mind you, because there's any accuracy to such a statement — because clearly there isn't — but because it would have given them more of that pop star clout that the Essex Britpoppers chased and then rejected. For people so in love with all things pop, the 'Tienne never seemed keen enough to rush towards it. And that, Mr Cheesemaker and member of the ultra-douchebag Chipping Norton set (you've seriously lost touch with reality if you happen to be part of a "set"), held this pop trio back far more than their looks.

Not to get too much like the leader of Echo & The Bunnymen myself but in some ways Saint Etienne were far ahead of Blur in 1993. While a Top 10 hit eluded them (and still has), their run of 45's over the previous couple of years had been first rate and of a much more consistent quality than the supposedly great singles band who had the spirited baggy anthem "There's No Other Way" and not a whole lot else. Second album Modern Life Is Rubbish is now highly regarded by many but I consider it to be high on ideas while low on results. Character sketch numbers like "Colin Zeal" and "Pressure on Julian" fail to hold up the way the likes of "Tracy Jacks", "Magic America" and, yes, "Charmless Man" do. Hey, they got better and all the credit to them for doing so but they weren't quite ready for the top in '93 and it shows.

This isn't to say that Saint Etienne were perfect. Their pursuit of what Hits editor Mark Frith called their "perfect pop moment" could be grating at times. There was something far too deliberate about every step they'd take as well. And they seemed to have this desire to release a sublime double A-side when there was absolutely no need to do so.

The pairing "Who Do You Think You Are" and "Hobart Paving" is the sixth double A to take a Smash Hits Single of the Fortnight Best New Single in the first decade-and-a-half of the top pop mag. Significantly, though, only one (Jesus Loves You's "Bow Down Mister" / "Love Hurts") was acknowledged as being part of that particular medium in the reviews page. The others (The Jam's "Going Underground" / "Dreams of Children", Tracey Thorn's "Goodbye Joe" / "Plain Sailing", Bomb the Bass' "Don't Make Me Wait" / "Megablast" and, lo and behold, Saint Etienne's "Join Our Club" / "People Get Ready") only had one of their sides credited

A double A-side ought to force fans into making a choice which seemed to happen whenever The Beatles put one out. Do you prefer "We Can Work It Out?" or "Day Tripper"? "Yellow Submarine" or "Eleanor Rigby"? "Strawberry Fields Forever" or "Penny Lane"? "Come Together" or "Something"? If that doesn't happen then it's because fans of the Fab Four just wanted to keep flipping these brilliant records over. (How "Paperback Writer" and "Rain" was never a double A I'll never know) And while this can happen with other bands — "Don't Make Me Wait" / "Megablast" are both bangers — it generally doesn't. Much like on "Who Do You Think You Are", the single people are likely to remember, and "Hobart Paving", the one you either forgot all about or was never even aware of.

Not that "Hobart Paving" is poor. It's actually fairly poignant for them. It just isn't a single under any circumstance. What it sounds like is the penultimate track on an album whose creators wanted to go out on a less downbeat note. (Oh, those jokey closing tracks, the blight of damn-near every Byrds album) In the context of 1993 hits like R.E.M.'s "Everybody Hurts" and Sting's "Fields of Gold" (not to mention plenty of other slow songs I'd rather not bring up) it might make sense to have such a lush "ballad" compete for a chart position but I'd much rather go with the on-brand Etienne approach of covering an obscure minor hit and turning it into some modern dancefloor fun.

That said, there is more than a little boogie to Candlewick Green's original version of "Who Do You Think You Are?" but it's to the immense credit of Stanley, Wiggs and Cracknell for bringing out in full. (The version by Bo Donaldson & The Heywoods which was a hit in North America is mostly a retread of the original barring the odd sitar spot; did no one prior to Cracknell think of singing it from a female perspective?) Respect to them as well for digging out a largely forgotten single that would have been crying out for a modern rendition. Stock Aitken Waterman wouldn't have drum machined the life out of it had someone like Hazel Dean done a cover of it a decade earlier.

But let's not go nuts here. "Who Do You Think You Are?" is a superb composition but just another fairly great Saint Etienne single. "You're in a Bad Way" blows it out of the murky Thames water. "Avenue" makes Little Debby look like a pile of puke and it's a good deal better than this as well. "Join Our Club" can get a bit much with all it's cleverness but there's really nothing like it that first couple times you put it on. This being a really grim fortnight for new releases, an irritating Alex James and a not as irritating as his detractors claim Damon Albarn (sorry, Sylvia Patterson) were right to go with this admittedly ill-considered double A-side but Saint Etienne was capable of much better. Not to mention Blur, who would soon get a whole lot better, leaving the likes of the 'Tienne well behind. And it wasn't even strictly down to their looks either.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Streetband featuring Paul Young: "Toast"

Erroneously credited to "Street Gang" on the singles review page, this 1978 novelty hit for the band that would soon evolve into The Q-Tips, who would in turn be a gateway for the lengthy and successful MOR recording career of Paul Young, is Albarn and James' runner-up for Best New Single, only losing out due to it being a reissue. I, for one, appreciate hearing Young doing something other than belting his heart out of unnecessary Joy Division and Crowded House covers and duets with Italian Madonnas. But the gag gets tiresome awfully fast. Unless, of course, they really do love their toast. I may just be bitter having not had a decent piece of toast since about 1996 or something. But if that's the worst thing going on in my life (and, let's be honest, it probably is) then I'll take it. The sort of song I can happily never listen to again.