Barry White: "Follow That and See (Where It Leads Y'All)"

4 October 1989

""We have the power to change anything," bellows the the God-like "Walrus of Love" at the beginning of this record, in a voice deeper than the depths of hell (i.e. unnaturally deep)."

— Sian Pattenden

In my recent post about Michael Hutchence's side project Max Q, I hinted at a lull in the music scene the autumn of 1989. I was focused on a distinct lack of dynamic stars on the cover of Smash Hits, particularly in an environment dominated by Jive Bunny and Black Box, but the pop scene in general seemed to be going through a rough patch in general at around this time. I was by then back in Canada where there hadn't been the same penetration of music as in the UK. My favourite songs were The Cure's "Love Song", Madonna's "Cherish" and Tears for Fears' "Sowing the Seeds of Love" and at some point it occurred to me that there wasn't much out there to replace them.

That was in Canada but Britain had to be different, surely. Jive Bunny's "Swing the Mood" had only been in the charts for a couple weeks before I left and so I never had the chance to get sick of it and realise that it was crap; the British didn't seem to tire of it and it remained on the Top 40 as follow-up "That's What I Like" was topping the charts. (Indeed, it managed to hang around long enough to to be there to welcome the horrible Christmas-themed "Let's Party" for its less extended run, giving these so-called Mastermixers a sustained chart presence for over five months...bloody hell, Britain) "Ride on Time" was a much better record than any of Jive Bunny's nonsense but did it really deserve to sit at the top for six whole weeks, the longest chart reign in over five years?

This fortnight's singles does little to address the lack of quality in the pop charts. Most of the records reviewed by Sian Pattenden are poor or indifferent and the vast majority didn't exactly set the hit parade ablaze that autumn. Just two ended up being big hits — Lisa Stansfield's number one smash "All Around the World" (itself an indication of how low the charts had sunken: her previous singles "People Hold On" and "The Right Time" didn't do nearly as well despite being significantly better songs) and the Top 5 smash "Street Tuff" by Rebel MC & Double Trouble —  with just four more getting into the Top 40 — and only just barely for two of them. The rest is a veritable flop parade and lowest of all is Barry White's "Follow That and See (There It Leads Y'All)" which failed to chart at all.

With the possible exception of Billy Idol and his four Singles of the Fortnight (yes, there's still one more to come), there probably isn't another artist I am surprised to be covering on this blog more than Barry White. I already blogged about him last year when he released an ultimately doomed attempt at a Christmas number one and now he's back (BACK!!) with a new recording to see if he can recapture the public's imagination. He didn't but not for lack of trying.

While the likes of Marvin Gaye, Curtis Mayfield and Stevie Wonder were recording socially conscientious pop and R&B in the early seventies, White was fashioning himself into a baritone-voiced lathario, one who didn't seem particularly interested in civil rights, the generation gap, Nixon, pollution, urban strife or war. Gaye himself would quickly move back to the bedroom with Let's Get It On and I Want You (before ending up in the divorce courts on Here, My Dear) but he had been part of the zeitgeist with 1971's What's Going On and this massively important and successful album remained a firm part of his reputation long after its issues ceased to matter as much to him. Not so with White and while he may have been capable of his own What's Going On or Innervisions or Superfly, he never indicated that he had any desire to do so.

But something changed over the years and his re-emergence at the end of the eighties brought about some a new approach. The biggest change was musically. The contemporary production on album The Man Is Back! is tasteful for the most part but his voice is missing something without a string section to back him up. Indeed, he isn't being backed up so much as drowned out on "Follow That and See (Where It Leads Y'All)". (I didn't know it was possible for such a powerful vocalist to get beaten down by production no matter how big it is) James Brown's output from around the same time leaves a lot to be desired but he would never have let his voice be anything but front and centre.

If the song doesn't work in the confines of an eighties recording studio then at least there's White to give it the charm it needs. It's a lot more hectoring than anything Gaye and Mayfield and Wonder ever did and it's a point in its favour. White had more than a little of the preacher in him and it really comes out in this paean to world unity and understanding. This is no doubt bolstered by the sight of him standing at a pulpit in the accompanying video. He seldom tackled heavy issues in his recordings but this track only makes the listener wish he had done so more often — especially back when he was at his peak.

In my previous piece about White, I mentioned that it's easy to guess what his songs sound like before you've even heard them. This isn't the case here which is a shame. What White did was limited in scope but at least he did it better than anyone else. It was noble that he wanted to have his say as far as the fate of humanity and the world was concerned but he should've brought it into the sound he was best known for. "Follow That and See" proved he had a great socially conscious pop/R&B album in him but by 1989 it was too little too late.

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Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Fuzzbox: "Walking on Thin Ice"

Having a laugh seemed to be what the girls from Fuzzbox were all about. As punks they refused to take anything seriously and this approach carried over when they abruptly went pop in 1989. Boys fancied them, girls looked up to them and we all thought they were brilliant. It couldn't last but they could've continued for at least another year before things fell apart. Third pop era single "Self" kind of sucked and their cover of Yoko Ono's "Walking on Thin Ice" is no better — and by this point interest in them began to wane. The icy production, glorious disco beat and John Lennon's searing guitar are nowhere to be found here and it doesn't even sound like they're trying. A B52's cover would have been more suitable (they were influenced by Yoko, you know) or, better yet, one of their addictive anthems about rescue missions or pink sunshines. That's why we all loved Fuzzbox, even if the midriffs were nice too.

Barry White: "Never Never Gonna Give You Up"

2 December 1987

"Ah, Barry White. I love you."

— Lola Borg

The race for the 1987 Christmas Number One was on and this would be a competition unlike any seen before or since. For starters, the winner and runner-up were both excellent singles, a formidable one-two punch on any chart but one that's especially impressive considering the holiday season doesn't normally feature such quality. And while the Slade-Wizzard race in 1973 kicked off the competition and Band Aid-Wham!-Frankie in '84 likely resulted in the highest sales, this may be the most significant Xmas chart battle because this was the year it turned it into an annual tradition with betting shop odds and an entire nation being gripped by it. 

Rick Astley (more on him below) had been on the rise that year and had been a good bet to take the crown with a cagey double A side. Pet Shop Boys had also been in the midst of an exceptional chart run, which singer Neil Tennant would go on to describe as their 'imperial period'. The Pogues weren't in the same commercial league but their exceptional offering "Fairytale of New York" charmed enough people beyond their loyal fanbase to give them their only major hit and the only song of their's that anyone knows. Though "Fairytale..." was the most obviously Christmassy, all three had something of the seasonal favourite to aid their chances.

Elsewhere, the also-rans are a mixed bag. This issue's rightful SOTF should have been a reissue of Dusty Springfield's magnificent solo debut from 1963 "I Only Want to Be with You", one of the greatest pop songs off all time. Reviewer Lola Borg is less impressed by Bruce Springsteen's "Tunnel of Love", the title track to The Boss' masterpiece album from the same year. It's not really single material so I understand her disdain but it's still a vital cog in a brilliant LP. Wet Wet Wet serve up some Yuletide slush with "Angel Eyes (Home and Away)", a song I did like as a youngster but am far less fond of now. There are also two proper Christmas singles, the Rik Mayall/Ade Edmunson heavy metal spoof Bad News with "Cashing in on Christmas" and Run-DMC with "Christmas in Hollis", a number that would eventually become a classic but which unjustly flopped in the UK charts.

Alas, Borg doesn't place a flutter on any of these as she opts instead for the Paul Hardcastle 'Mammoth Mix' of a thirteen-year-old song by Barry White. She expresses fondness for most of the tunes mentioned above but the baritone lothario has clearly won her heart years earlier and this is her chance to recommend him to the youth of Britain. Well, not really. White had already had a hit single a couple months' earlier with "Sho' You Right" (his first UK Top 20 appearance in nearly a decade) and this remix was clearly intended to capitalise on his new found success. Sprucing up old hits was becoming more and more common at this time but older acts didn't tend to have chart longevity. The novelty of someone from the sixties or seventies could get punters into the shops but the law of diminishing returns would inevitably set in.

Originally released in 1973, "Never, Never Gonna Give Ya Up" — tune remixed, title edited — was White's second US Top 10 hit as he began achieving the fame for which he is remembered today. It's hard to know what to say here beyond that it sounds like pretty much every Barry White song I've ever heard. British audiences in '87 would have been rightly struck by his distinctive voice (just as many of us were when he made a memorable appearance on The Simpsons in 1992) only to discover that this freshness only applies to whichever White song you happen to hear first. There's nothing wrong with "Never Never Gonna Give You Up", just as there's nothing amiss with anything White ever did. I appreciate the fact that while seventies' soul music was dominated by smooth types like Marvin Gaye and Al Green with their velvety voices to lure the female folk into the bedroom, White's deep, gravelly singing proved just as effective. It's just that if you've heard one of his songs, you can probably guess how the rest of them will go. (And if all of this didn't torpedo its chances, there may also have been some confusion with the title: "Never Gonna Give You Up" by (who else?) Rick Astley had been the year's biggest selling single so what was this song with almost the same title doing?)

"Always on My Mind" ended up taking the Christmas Number One, which for some remains one of pop's great injustices in that it denied The Pogues the top spot. I've always been a Pet Shop Boys fan so I can't be objective on this but perhaps we should all be content that such an excellent pair of singles took the top two spots. They may not be quite "Wuthering Heights"/"Denis" or "Are 'Friends' Electric?"/"Up the Junction" but they're close. Sure, it would have been nice if Run-DMC, Dusty Springfield and, yes, Barry White had done better but at least some of the cream still managed to rise to the top.

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Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Rick Astley: "When I Fall in Love" / "My Arms Keep Missing You"

While The Beatles didn't actually invent the concept album, the double album nor the idea of writing your own songs, it seems they can be credited with the first double A side. John and Paul were said to argue about which song got the more prominent side and giving them equal billing was the compromise. This became the standard for double A's but Rick's attempt at the Christmas Number One marked a change for the medium. "When I Fall in Love" was there to get him to the top (even though it ultimately failed to do so) while "My Arms Keep Missing You" was meant to maintain interest past the New Year (even though it was already falling down the charts by that point). A smart strategy that didn't work out and has reduced the B side in name only to obscurity but it would be taken up other acts to varying degrees of success. "When I Fall in Love" is an expertly done copy of the original but it's still a drag and a blot on Rick's debut album. "My Arms Keep Missing You", however, is classic SAW and deserves to be better remembered, though I suppose you could say that about a few of his hits that aren't "Never Gonna Give You Up".