Diana Ross: "Mirror Mirror"

4 February 1982

"The 12" version has a lot going on, and may be worth paying more for."

— Charlie Gillett

"Not only is this Diana's first release on Capitol," states Bev Hillier in her November, 1981 review of the album Why Do Fools Fall in Love, "but also her first shot at producing her own material". They wouldn't introduce Album of the Fortnight to Smash Hits for a while but if it had existed at the end of 1981 she would have taken the runner up spot behind Fad Gadget's Incontinent. Among the LP's Diana Ross finished in front of in a pretty strong batch are Japan's Tin Drum (a very worthy 8 out of 10), Depeche Mode's Speak and Spell (a respectable 7/10), Earth, Wind & Fire's Raise! (also a 7/10 but surely it deserved better), The Bee Gees' Living Eyes, Adam & the Ants' Prince Charming (both with a deserved 5/10), Prince's Controversy (4/10 seems ungenerous but I'm not sure Hillier's wrong) and Rush's Exit...Stage Left (again, 2/10 is a bit of a chintzy score but Mike Stand's remark — "I would close with the standard attack on their interest in dodgy philosopher Ayn Rand if only I knew who the hell he was" — makes it all worthwhile). Bloody hell, this Fad Gadget dude must've been good...

For Diana Ross to have thrived up against such strong competition (and Rush!) is not such a big deal for someone with her pedigree but for her to have done so on an album she also produced is another matter entirely. One would think that a diva of her stature would have more pressing matters than sitting behind a grubby mixing desk with a sad, friendless engineer while barking orders at overworked, underpaid session musicians. Yet, she proved up to the task enough that she would go on to produce the bulk of the material that would make up her next three albums.

Not to take anything away from the legendary ex-Supreme but she did have a few advantages that your average first time producer wouldn't normally enjoy. First, she had use of the finest recording studios in the United States at her disposal. She also had a team of first rate musicians in her employ, including well-rounded guitarist Eric Gale and tenor saxophonist Michael Brecker, individuals who had played on her now overlooked 1979 album The Boss (her much better remembered Diana LP from '80 had been done with Bernard Edwards and Nile Rodgers who effectively made a Chic album with Diana Ross singing on top of it; Why Do Fools Fall in Love set the clock back by utilizing previous sessioners and is probably a more accurate indication of where she was creatively and professionally at the time). Finally, she had nearly twenty years of studio experience to rely upon; in my previous review of "Mirror, Mirror" I argue that years of working alongside Motown's studio wizards as well as Edwards and Rodgers must have rubbed off on her.

The one thing that Ross failed to account for was decent songs. Well played and sung by all concerned, "Mirror, Mirror" is nevertheless a flimsy composition. Time had not endeared it to me since the last time I wrote about it though I will acknowledge that Charlie Gillett was correct in favouring the 12" mix to its 7" counterpart. Disco tunes need time to settle in and, if anything, six minutes is probably not quite long enough. Eric Gale's hard rock guitar playing doesn't quite fit the shorter version while the lengthier mix allows for sufficient space. Seemingly stuck in a noble sixties' mindset of keeping albums down to thirty to forty minutes, Ross' album sacrificed dancefloor excellence for unnecessary brevity. Instead of "Mirror, Mirror" being the album's longest track it should have been the median. 

I love Chic as much as the next person but to give them the bulk of the credit for Diana Ross' success in the early eighties overlooks the fact that their team-up was short lived and that she was doing well for herself both before and after they worked together. With all due respect to their talents as ace musicians and producers it was their songwriting that likely benefited her most. Not since the heyday of Holland-Dozier-Holland had Ross worked with such a formidable team. Producing seemed to suit her so why didn't she take up songwriting while she was at it? She could've given it a go by collaborating with colleagues like Lionel Richie or Smokey Robinson a busy-but-always-willing-to-help-a-friend Michael Jackson. She could have even written a few songs on her own and it's not a stretch to suggest she would have been capable of something better than the cliche-ridden "Mirror, Mirror" or the dated "Why Do Fools Fall in Love". Why rely on covers and third rate nonsense when she could have done it herself? After-all, Diana Ross was no mere diva.

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Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Fun Boy Three with Bananarama: "It Ain't What You Do..."

"Somebody should give these guys a lesson on writing dynamics into their records, with middle-eights and bridges and all that stuff," states Gillett in an otherwise complimentary review. He doesn't seem aware that Terry, Lynval and Neville, along with newcomers Sarah, Siobahn and Keren, didn't compose this record. Indeed, he seems unaware that it was already over forty years old and had been a jazz standard until the FB3 gave it an update. All things considered, the Boys and the 'Narns had a minor masterpiece on their hands. Lots of fun (I like the Fun Boy Three a lot but they didn't always live up to their name), catchy, addictive and a great way to introduce the world to the genius of Bananarama, who would soon overtake their male counterparts as regulars on the giddy carousel of pop for the remainder of the decade. Gillett concludes by wishing a poorly Lynval Golding well; I'll sign off with a regretful RIP Terry Hall. (And RIP Charlie Gillett while I'm at it)

(Click here to see my original review)

The Birthday Party: "Release the Bats" / Jon & Vangelis: "State of Independence"

20 August 1981

"This band is not shy."

"Not normally the kind of thing I would listen to, this was the surprise of the pile."

— Charlie Gillett

Well, time hasn't done anything to endear me to either of these records. I approached this (re)entry thinking that at least one of "Release the Bats" or "State of Independence" would throw me, making me wonder why I was so swift to dismiss one or both of them just over four years ago. Alas, I'm as unmoved as ever — even vaguely resentful of having to evaluate them once again — and I'm not even sure I can understand why Charlie Gillett chose them anymore.

People love their Nick Cave, or so I've been told. I've never known any devoted Cave fans but I imagine they're the sort of people who think The Boatman's Call is in fact one of his weaker albums and not at all representative of his musical talent. Nevertheless, I think most people will agree that he was at his best alongside The Bad Seeds. The Birthday Party, his first group of note, were certainly distinctive but Cave wasn't able to put the care into his songwriting during these early years as he would be towards the end of the eighties.

Many have stated that "Release the Bats" was seminal in the burgeoning goth rock movement. Cave has disputed this but he ought to take that up with youngsters in black who heard it and were inspired. It has been suggested that the song was meant to be a joke but The Birthday Party's "frightening intensity" ensures that the gag is lost on all but the most studious of observers.

Contrary to what punk advocates will have you believe, progressive rock didn't simply shrivel up and die in 1977. Well, it didn't die. During the considerable layover between the end of ELP and Gabriel-era Genesis and the rise of second generation acts like Kajagoogoo, Nik Kershaw and Tears for Fears, holdovers such as Yes went commercial. Prog hadn't been challenging for listeners since the heyday of King Crimson but now it had become especially tame and toothless. Supergroups Asia and Jon & Vangelis were about to inflict far more damage upon prog than the Sex Pistols ever could have.

Jon Anderson had departed Yes and and the late Vangelis had long since bid farewell to Greek act Aphrodite's Child when they formed their partnership. With the latter getting deeper into film scores — his biggest success of 1981 was the soundtrack to Chariots of Fire and would soon work on the music for the overrated Blade Runner — this duo may have been an attempt to keep at least one foot in the pop world. Success for the group was sporadic and it would be a while before they began to reap some financial reward for composing "State of Independence". This windfall came mainfully from Donna Summer's solid cover version. It's much stronger than the original and indicates that Jon & Vangelis had a sturdy composition on their hands, even if they couldn't make much of it on their own.

As if to avoid having to write a proper review, I took up the bulk of my time in this co-Single of the Fortnight's post categorizing some of the other records reviewed by Gillett with oh so clever titles. This time I thought I'd provide classifications for The Birthday Party and Jon & Vangelis. Let's see how I do this time.

People Who Aren't Currently Relevant but Will Be Praised Someday for Their "Influence"

The Birthday Party: "Release the Bats"

As Brian Eno once said, only 10,000 people bought the first Birthday Party album but everyone who did formed a band and bought cowboy hats in an attempt to make goth seem more rustic or something.

People Who Aren't Yet Aware That They're Irrelevant

Jon & Vangelis: "State of Independence"

As Brian Eno once said, over 1,000,000 people bought the J&V album The Friends of Mr Cairo but not one of them formed a band because of it (and it did nothing for the goth cowboy hat industry either). No one seemed to think so at the time but wasn't Kate Bush far more progressive than these two? Vangelis had much more of a future with ambient, impressionist film soundtracks. As for Anderson, I'm sure he had enough money stashed away to open up a pub.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Cliff Richard: "Wired for Sound"

(aka People Who Will Have a Hit (Even If They Don't Deserve To), aka People Trying a Little Too Hard to Keep Their Career Renaissance Going)

Cliff's late-seventies revival of "Miss You Nights", "Devil Woman", "Carrie" and "We Don't Talk Anymore" (a better period than his early-sixties heyday, if you ask this humble blogger) entered the eighties with the popular and well-remembered "Wired for Sound". I'm in agreement with Gillett that the song doesn't deserve Cliff and that it's "clever rather than engaging". The fact that he was soon to dry up almost permanently — even though "Saviour's Day" being a great song is a hill I will die on — probably helped fans have fond memories of this good-but-not-great number. Nevertheless, it would have been my SOTF runner-up, trailing only the brilliant "Mother's Hour" by Ludus. (As Brian Eno once said, only only person bought the first Ludus album but everyone who did formed a band called The Smiths and flirted with racism)

(Click here to see the original post)

Diana Ross: "Mirror Mirror"

4 February 1982

"The 12" version has a lot going on, and may be worth paying more for."
— Charlie Gillett

The extended mix. Nothing says ruining your favourite song like doubling its length with an off-putting intro and a disconcerting, needless breakdown in the middle. I've never been that devoted a collector that I've sought out 12'' singles by Pet Shop Boys or The Beautiful South but I've encountered enough to know how utterly dire they could be. The Stock Aitken Waterman compilation The Hit Factory Vol. 2 that I got for Christmas one year sold itself on having exclusive extended versions of Kylie Minogue and Rick Astley hits (the long version of Jason Donovan's already ghastly "Nothing Can Divide Us" was especially awful, with a crass changeover from its tacked on intro to the proper song at 1:39). But at least these SAW numbers were intended for a Friday night comprehensive school disco or someplace else where people might theoretically be getting down. Rock 12'' mixes, on the other hand, are pathetic attempts to bring studio boffinery into three-chord wonderland without any plausible raison d'être.

Such was my ignorance of the extended mix that I assumed it was something that had been around forever — or at least as long as the 12" single had been a part of the format racket — and my aversion towards them went so far as to delay my Chic phase by a few months. Looking to get a good compilation by the influential New York disco-funk pioneers, I was put off by the lengthy versions of "Everybody Dance" and "Good Times". When I finally did relent with the superb The Definitive Groove Collection I discovered that these tunes were best consumed in their full on form. "Everybody Dance" is neutered in its 7" brevity; the twelve incher, by contrast, amounts to an invitation for everyone to set the two dollar highballs they'd been nursing down and get to the task of flooding the dancefloor. A "Good Times" that pushes on towards the seven minute mark keeps those good times going; edited down to radio length and you're just getting just the faintest glimpse of them.

Perhaps with this in mind, Charlie Gillett makes his recommendation that punters ought to invest in the longer mix of Diana Ross' "Mirror Mirror". The once and forever Supreme may have known a thing or two about how to make a party purr having recently come off a career resurrection with "Upside Down" and "I'm Coming Out", done in cahoots with Chic leaders Bernard Edwards and Nile Rogers. I spent some time playing the two versions back-to-back, hoping to detect just how much more is going on in the 12" mix but I didn't hear anything discernible. While cropping a song down to size ought to be about including everything that ought to be there — if the famous 'cantina' section of The Beach Boys' "Heroes and Villains" had been good enough it would've been part of the single instead of resigned to bootleg hell — adding on should be an extension of what's already there. I get the feeling that "Mirror Mirror" is supposed to hit the six minute mark but shorn of a third of its length leaves nothing out without wearing out its welcome.

If it manages well enough as a production feat — pulled off by Ross herself who must have learned a lot from Edwards and Rogers as well as Motown's expert studio technicians — it doesn't hold up as an actual song. Taking the familiar "mirror, mirror on the wall..." trope as its theme, it devolves into Ross' gentleman beau having turned her life "into a paperback novel". From there, the subject matter is all about the various chapters of her life that have revolved around this anonymous rogue. Ross, always a surprisingly underrated vocalist for such a successful singer, turns in a sweetly accusatory performance but she can't hide the fact that the material just doesn't measure up, something that extended mixes and single edits couldn't hope to hide.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

China Crisis: "African and White"

One of many alliterative acts of the time, China Crisis were soon to have a brief but respectable run of chart singles but not quite yet. Doing for the remix what "Mirror Mirror" is to the 12'', there is little that differentiates this from its reissue a few months hence. As Gillett says, there are lots of cool musical ideas here but I have to quibble with his assertion that the vocals are all doom and gloom. Dealing with the situation in South Africa, the sentiments are simple but genuine enough. Combining some African elements with a new wave feel, this is a stellar performance, the kind of thing that Talking Heads would have been proud to have put out. A definite shoulda SOTF.

The Birthday Party: "Release the Bats" / Jon & Vangelis: "State of Independence"

20 August 1981

"John Peel...has nominated this as his record-of-'81; I'll settle for it being...not normally the kind of thing I would listen to...the most compelling, uncompromised...immaculate sequencer grooves...the singer rants with frightening intensity...and sax overdubs."
— Charlie Gillett

A mischievous start to this one on my part. This is our first look at a co-SOTF and, as a warped tribute to this landmark, I've decided to mash up Charlie Gillett's pair of glowing reviews into the above "quotation". I have, therefore, taken his analysis completely out of context. Anyone who wishes to see what he actually wrote is invited to do so by clicking on the link up top.

I suppose this week's entry is about understanding a reviewer's perspective rather than agreeing with it. Neither of Gillett's picks do much for me personally but I can see picking them, particularly in light of most of their competition. "Release the Bats" is indeed intense, yes, frighteningly intense even, an early example of goth rock's chilling power — though sadly free of the sympathetic touch that Nick Cave would later develop. "State of Independence" is a last-gasp for prog rock, a super-duo laying down some wonderful ideas that don't quite work out in the finished product. One YouTube comment describes it as reggae from outer space, an opinion I can't disagree with even if the sentiment fails to lift me from my apathy. Nevertheless, the two records do stand out: Singles of the Fortnight that I don't especially like but kind of get.

More interesting than the bulk of this fortnight's singles is Gillett's approach to presenting his reviews, which, again, I can understand if not necessarily desire to emulate. He has the records classified into three categories: Best of the Bunch; People You've Heard Before (and Will Hear Again) and, finally, People You Haven't Heard (but Will One Day). I can certainly see the appeal of this while immediately detecting its flaws. Leaving aside the first one, the second presents us with those who've experienced some chart success and/or critical acclaim. Given that he assumes readers are already aware of these figures it's strange, then, for him to begin one entry by asking "Have you heard of Ry Cooder?" Granted, this is a query that is well worth asking, even today. In addition, The Look (who?) seem to be a conspicuous pick here. They were soon to fall out of chart favour and into ver dumper.

Then we come to the third category. It's nice of Gillett to assume this eager eight all had bright futures ahead of them and obviously he wasn't to know that they were all destined for obscurity. Two of this bunch — The Bore-Town Bop and The Lucky Saddles — appear with the only singles they ever released. It's neigh on impossible to watch out for groups who disappear so rapidly.

Still, I like having the singles classified this way. If anything, perhaps Gillett just didn't have enough categories to lean on. I've come up with a few of my own with some very brief reviews to accompany them.

People Who Think They're Still Relevant (but Have Actually Gone Down the Dumper)

Kim Carnes: "Draw of the Cards"

A retread of her one hit and not nearly as good. The vocal smokiness is beginning to pale.

People You've Heard Before (and Never Want to Hear Again)

The Moody Blues: "The Voice"

At least Jon and Vangelis are trying, The Bloody Muds are just rehashing the same old stuff that was never especially great to begin with.

People You Keep Hearing About (but Never Get Round to Listening To)

Ry Cooder: "Crazy 'Bout an Automobile" / "The Very Thing That Makes You Rich"

Do I know Ry Cooder, Chuck? I know of him. It's been on my list for the last twenty years but I promise to check out the Paris, Texas soundtrack anytime now.

People Who Will Have a Hit (Even If They Don't Deserve To)

Cliff Richard: "Wired for Sound"

In no way whatsoever does a song called "Wired for Sound" have any business being done by His Cliffness. Gillett claims that it "doesn't deserve the feeling that Cliff manages to bring to it". Either that or perhaps our Cliff puts too much feeling into material that needs someone who understands irony.

Or I should just stick to a category I know. Namely...

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Ludus: "Mother's Hour"

Towards the end of his life John Lennon began taking note of the influence of his wife Yoko Ono on up and coming new wave acts, citing in particular The B52's and their cult hit "Rock Lobster". (Fun fact: a Canadian number one!) He could just as easily have been talking about Ludus (you know, assuming he ever had the chance to hear them). Vocalist Linder sasses it up in the verses while getting her inner Ono on in the chorus. Reflecting this polarisation is her band who play some supple free jazz mixed with the sneering ferocity of punk. If a biographer/liner note writer ever needs to fill space with a quote they could do worse than this: "Ludus are the missing link between Yoko Ono and Morrissey". They may even take me way out of context for all I care.