Heart: "Who Will You Run To"

9 September 1987

"Ah, me, they are resolutely unfashionable, these two elderly Canadian "lovelies", Ann and Nancy Wilson, and their three "rugged" backing blokes (each with his own personal ugliness problem) but I'm afraid I can't resist their dubious charms."

— Tom Hibbert

1987 has been a banner year for Singles of the Fortnight. If it isn't exactly stacked with killer records, at least it's loaded with name pop stars. The local independent labels that arose in the aftermath of punk were beginning to fade away and those that were still clinging on (Factory, Mute, Rough Trade) managed to do so with acts that were regulars on the charts. Curios like indie-jazzers Weekend or Dutch synth act Spectral Display weren't able to make the kind of impact with critics that they used to. The mainstream was taking over. With fewer independents around, the big acts were able to flex their muscle in the singles review page.

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is well represented by the '87 crop of SOTF. So far, Aretha Franklin, Prince, U2, Depeche Mode, David Bowie, Iggy Pop, The Beatles, Michael Jackson and Dusty Springfield have all been inducted in the hallowed halls in Cleveland, Ohio. Others have been passed over but have credible cases. George Michael hasn't received much consideration over the years but you have to think he'll be in someday — he was simply way too big for them to keep him out forever. Duran Duran seem similarly likely for eventual enshrinement but I'm not so sure with them; I suspect that the Hall's governing board will have to be populated by children of the eighties for their time to finally come. Boy George as a member of Culture Club seems like a longshot, his star having faded considerably since their year-or-so at the top. Pet Shop Boys? Now you're just being silly.

The 2013 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame class was headlined by Public Enemy, Rush and longtime snub Donna Summer. One of the other inductees that year was Heart — Ann and Nancy Wilson, as well as four guys I've never heard of. I don't know if there was much opposition at the time to the supposed Canadians getting in but they don't seem particularly deserving considering the above groups that have so far been denied entry (and, it must be said, all were eligible back then). George Michael and Duran Duran are out but Heart are in? I don't want to suggest a North American bias but that's the only explanation I can think of. (Either that or they're convinced the 'rock' in Rock and Roll is of utmost importance)

To be fair, the Wilson sisters were big in their own right and it may be easy to forget just how popular they were. They started off based in Canada (sorry Hibbs, but they're American, though they had a connection to Vietnam War draft dodgers fleeing north of the US border which is an important, if underexplored, facet of Canadian history and culture) and were much more of a folk-rock act on their debut album Dreamboat Annie, with just hints of what was to come. People who liked that early period of Heart may not have been fond of the way they evolved into a hard rock metal group over the next decade. Like Whitesnake, they were much more of a metal look than a sound and it's likely that folk who would be raised on the likes of Metallica and Slayer would deny Heart's place on the metal family tree. But that's the odd thing about metal: it constantly tries to out-metal what comes before to such an extent that it renders older acts as simply "rock". Nevertheless, they were in that metal sphere.

Heart's big hit in 1987 was "Alone", which was a global smash. One of those classic eighties weepies, it's the sort of thing people might scoff at — or be what they used to call a 'guilty pleasure'. I used to have it on a British compilation called Soft Metal and it sat alongside other eighties rock staples such as Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" and Starship's "We Built This City" which only reaffirmed it as a schlocky favourite. Out of curiosity, however, I put it on earlier this week and had I been British my astonished reaction would have been simply "Tune!" (As much as I am a lifelong Anglofile, there are some things I just can't do: I don't understand cricket, I can't sing a football chant without feeling like an idiot, I can't do any kind of British accent and I can't say 'Tune!' when I hear a song I like — and I'm fine with that)

Yeah, "Alone" is actually pretty great. Ann (or is it Nancy?) has a great voice, one she can let rip on when she so desires but also one where the words become merely a whisper in places. There's a touching vulnerability in her vocals as well. The power ballad was already fast becoming a cliche by '87 but the Wilsons transcend it with what is a superb composition and Tom Hibbert is right to make the link with an ABBA slow song (I guess he means either "I Have a Dream" or "The Winner Takes It All"; the extraordinary "The Day Before You Came" is simply too individual and sinister for it to have any connection at all). You may wonder what the jiggins old Hibbs is on about with this observation but I think he was trying to picture the sort of song Benny and Bjorn would have written had they been in the pop metal game. (A clue is found in the power ballad structure of the unofficial tenth ABBA number one "I Know Him So Well" by Elaine Paige and Barbara Dickson from the musical Chess) 

Alas, "Alone" isn't the song we're dealing with here. Its follow up was never going to be more of the same; hard rock groups had an iron-clad rule that ballads are to be followed by anthemic numbers. In metal that's normally for the best. Poison's "Nothing but a Good Time" is vastly superior to "Every Rose Has Its Thorn", Motley Crue's "Girls, Girls, Girls" is better than "Home Sweet Home" and every other song Kiss did is better than bloody "Beth". But Heart weren't quite a metal act and couldn't cut a decent uptempo single the way they could a tender love song. "Who Will You Run To" has a very metal chorus that you can sing along with right from the off but there's little else to recommend in it. Not bad but nothing I want to listen to again. Significantly, I've listened to "Alone" far more over the past week

I suspect that Hibbert would agree to some extent. It's notable that much of his review is about how much he liked "Alone". In addition to the ABBA comparison, he discusses the song's video and how the sisters looked in it. Plus, he really liked the song as well. His praise for "Who Will You Run To" is a little more guarded, pointing out the chorus as a highlight and that it's a rousing tune. Dubious charms? Absolutely. American rock of the eighties was a wasteland of power chords and living the rock 'n' roll lifestyle and Heart were certainly at home in this territory. But they knew a thing or two about writing a song and, again, Ann (or is it Nancy?) was a generational talent in terms of vocal prowess. She just put it to much better use on a love song than on some rip roarin' rawk. And who can argue with her? They're in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, you know.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Donna Summer: "Dinner with Gershwin"

Gosh, Donna wasn't going to play this dreck for Georgie Gershwin while having said dinner, was she? I somehow think the composer of "I Got Rhythm" and "Summertime" wouldn't be terribly impressed by this "tribute". Donna Summer weathered the end of the disco era better than most of her colleagues but her star had faded by the late eighties. Still, I guess it tells you a lot about her name recognition that this lousy single ended up making the charts. Proof that just because someone can sing the phonebook, it doesn't mean that should. Luckily, the queen of disco would soon hook up with pop's dominant songwriting team to record something that didn't shame the legacy of "Love to Love You Baby" and "I Feel Love".

Donna Summer: "Bad Girls"

28 June 1979

"There was a time a few years back when I disliked Disco with a capital D; a time when Ms Summer was just starting to get hits and when, to me, she represented the very worst aspect of Disco. Times have changed, so have I, so has Disco music and so have Ms Summer's records."

— Cliff White

Being stuck under the weight of the Covid-19 crisis to cover concerts, The Guardian's music critics recently decided to put together a list of The 100 Greatest UK No 1s. They didn't do a bad job and I'm not just saying that because my favourite group came in first but there were some questionable choices. They were way too high on "You Spin Me Round" and "Billie Jean", too low on "Mouldy Old Dough" and "Telstar" and "Let's Dance" making it on at all is unforgivable given that the 'one single per artist rule' meant that the vastly superior "Ashes to Ashes" failed to make the list entirely. But, hey, these sorts of lists wouldn't be any good if they didn't piss people off.

In a very strong fourth place is Donna Summer with "I Feel Love". I didn't think it would come in quite so high but I figured it would stand a decent chance of cracking the top ten. It's one of those singles that's annoyingly cited for its importance at the expense of its astounding quality: if it somehow hadn't managed to influence generations of studio boffins and club DJs it would still be an amazing listening experience. I wasn't familiar with it growing up (the only Donna I ever heard was "She Works Hard for the Money" and "This Time I Know It's for Real", which happened to be my favourite song of all time during the spring of 1989) so I was surprised to hear something so ecstatic from just after my birth. The past never sounded so much like the future.

With that in mind, I would like to express how nice it would have been to quiz Cliff White further on his quotation above. Why did he have such a distaste for disco back in the day? What exactly made Donna Summer the representative of all that made it so foul? What happened that made him change his mind? What did her current batch of hits have that earlier efforts lacked? And, finally, did he consider "I Feel Love" to be the "very worst aspect of Disco"? Really?

Hindsight sees the disco boom as a brief period in the mid to late seventies. Weary funk, jazz and soul stars, some obscure gospel singers, a few pop groups of varying degrees of notoriety and performers from the underground gay circuit all cut records heavy on bass and gliding orchestras that had trim 7" mixes for radio and fuller 12" versions for the clubs and a phenomenon was born. Then it died away four years later when an idiot shock jock blew them all up at a baseball game in Chicago. The records were often great but there was nothing remotely progressive about them. "I Feel Love" and its sultry 1975 predecessor "Love to Love You Baby" were forward thinking records but she and collaborators Giorgio Moroder and Pete Bellotte would soon settle into a very successful formula.

Summer became an albums artist for a time before she hit her commercial peak with "Hot Stuff" and "Bad Girls" in the summer of 1979. This is also the apogee of her American sound. "I Feel Love" and some of her early records came while she was based in Germany but waning interest in her adopted homeland and increasing prominence across the Atlantic resulted in Summer, Moroder and Bellotte basing themselves in the States. Without the presence of Kraftwerk, Bowie and Eno's Berlin period, ABBA at their best and perhaps even the vigour of punk energy as influences, her work became much more R&B and gospel based. It's hard to imagine her brave but still lousy take on "MacArthur Park" resulting from a session in Munich.

This American period was not without its benefits. Rather than having programmed synths to rely on, Summer is joined by some crack musicianship (though some of them were Europeans as well), fantastic backing singers and even nifty studio effects to flesh out the sound of "Bad Girls". The forward-thinking musical minds may have originated on the Continent but the state-of-the-art recording facilities were still in America. This sassy record is the product of a team at team at the top of their game, one that was more than happy to take advantage of being a worldwide "mover" but one not as inclined to experiment.

I don't wish to besmirch a single as good as "Bad Girls" and it's probably just White's view that makes me want to be such a contrary bugger. It's a big improvement on the gauche "Hot Stuff" and doesn't let up for a moment, especially on the 12" version (which he recommends; I like the fact that a record that clocks in at just under five minutes would be the "extended" mix). And, to be fair, White may not have even been referring to "I Feel Love" as the "very worst aspect of Disco". More than the genre, Ms. Summer, even ver times, he has changed. He should've gone back and given her early stuff a fresh listen, he might have given it the revaluation it deserved.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Chic: "Good Times"

"Ah yes, a hit," writes White. "I can hear it in the hand claps, bass line and correct quantity of beats per minute". Yeah, even a Chic fan like myself has to admit they could be a bit clinical. (Odd that a group formed by jazz sessioners that couldn't make things a bit more spontaneous) "Gormless song," he continues. Okay, it doesn't exactly fill the listener's mind with ideas and the little point there is gets hammered "home". I get the feeling our Cliff isn't so keen on this one. He even reckons that the vocalists must have an "unnerving affliction, as if they're being prodded in the chest while they sing." Well, the singers were never what drew people to Chic and it was only when they began improving that part of their game that their popularity began falling off, well, a cliff. But with "Good Times" they enjoyed that monster hit he could easily see coming. But thanks for ruining Chic for me, Cliff.