Lisa Stansfield: "The Only Way"

28 October 1982

"Nominating this as star single isn't going to win me any credibility points."

— David Hepworth

Having been at Smash Hits for over three years up until this point, it's odd that David Hepworth thinks he had credibility points to begin with. This wasn't the Melody Maker or the NME he was working for (thank god for that), he was writing and editing a magazine whose primary mission was to publish songwords for young music fans. Credibility points? Seriously, Dave?

Of course, few in pop and rock journalism carry as much cred as Hepworth nowadays. A lot of people love the podcast he hosts alongside fellow erstwhile Hits, Q and The Word scribe Mark Ellen. (I was just think about the two of them the other day and something struck me: their ideas about music are really no more considered than my own) His books are also popular. UK musicology owes a great deal to the seventy-something Hepworth which is all the more remarkable considering he never indulged in lengthy philosophical rants about the influence of Sartre on Sheffield's post-punk scene nor did he use his position at one of the inkies to get high with the subjects he was meant to be critiquing.

In any case, what's the point of credibility when your throwaway Single of the Fortnight is the clear best new release here? "The Only Way" is anything but groundbreaking and remarkable but it is surprisingly sturdy for a club hit. There's something sweet about guiding a sixteen-year-old talent show winner towards the dance clubs of the time, rather than in the direction of tried and tested balladry. The Lisa Stansfield who would finally achieve mass success around the world at the tail end of the eighties didn't resemble the one who was struggling to make it seven years' earlier and her voice wasn't even all that similar but launching herself through the medium of contemporary dance trends would be something she would stick to, (Until she promptly abandoned it in an attempt to be more of a mainstream, all around vocalist with her third major label "effort" So Natural)

No doubt Stansfield oozed promise, which is more than can be said for the tiny label that had signed her up. While there's no doubt that string vest is indeed fetching, the sleeve is ruined by the headache-inducing Times New Roman uppercase 'L' and 'S' followed by lowercase lettering in italics. Worse still, the title, which for some reason is buried at the bottom left-hand corner, typed as 'The Only way'. Bloody hell, Devil Records, you really spared no expense! I guess your vast roster of young, up and coming artists made you drop the ball on...(checks notes) the only singer on your bloody label. You had literally one job to do.

This was the downside of these small indie record labels moving away from new wave and post-punk and on to club music. Youngsters who happened to be interested in a local band they'd heard about — and possibly even saw — could pop into the record shop to see if they had their latest single or the E.P. they cut from the year before but dance artists didn't get the same exposure that led the curious to investigate further. If a popular discotheque happened to play a record like "The Only Way" then it might have gone over well but what good would it have done the next day?

It was in this environment that enterprising blokes Mike Stock, Matt Aitken and Pete Waterman could step in. They didn't write songs that were any better than "The Only Way" or Stansfield's other early singles but they had the business acumen, the pluck, the eye for talent and the instincts for marketing that gave them a massive edge over the competition. They even had sufficient club credibility (the kind David Hepworth didn't have while at ver Hits) that would aid them right up until, coincidentally, Stansfield's long-awaited breakthrough. It's all connected.

Nevertheless, Lisa Stansfield needed the experience of producing quality product that very few were interested in or even knew about. Self-righteous indie rock types are always on their high horse about struggling and dues paying seem unaware or unconcerned that everyone trying to make it in the music industry is trying to do the same thing. Plus, they don't have addictive and instantly listenable material like this one. Stansfield would better it with her first Top 40 hit "People Hold On" but it's not too far off. The moral of the story? Keep at it, kids. You may be in fetching vests on a label with no ideal about packaging but there's always the chance you'll one day be on the charts anyway. You might even hang on to that credibility which seems to matter to some.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Heaven 17: "Let Me Go"

What if B.E.F. had been the intended day job of Ian Craig Marsh and Martyn Ware while Heaven 17 was just their fun little side project? It kind of makes sense but the record buying public had different ideas as they bought a handful of copies of the latter's releases to the former's none. "Let Me Go" isn't a patch on "Anyone Who Had a Heart" and only serves to further reinforce the question of why they left The Human League in the first place. Phil Oakey and the others may not have had the musical training of Marsh and Ware but they could've taught their old bandmates a thing or two about crafting glorious pop. Heaven 17 still have their fans to this day but I can't say I'm one of them. I'll always be a sucker for both sophisti-pop and synth-pop but it's obvious the two do not belong together. Sorry Hepworth, it didn't grow on me but maybe I ought to give it at least a second listen before I'm sure.

(Click here to see my original review)

Lisa Stansfield: "The Only Way"

28 October 1982

"Nominating this as star single isn't going to win me any credibility points. It's the kind of obvious, blatantly commercial number that everyone sneers at until it makes the top five and then some vaguely apologetic voice pops up with: "actually I quite like this"."

— David Hepworth

Much like two weeks ago when I wrote about The The, this week's entry is drenched in memories that would come much later. While I knew that Matt Johnson's outfit had a past of some sort, I had no idea Lisa Stansfield was releasing music this early on — she was only sixteen back in 1982 — and I had probably assumed that she emerged fully formed with her breakthrough hit "People Hold On" in '89. The single was made in cahoots with Coldcut, who had previously had a hit with Yazz, another newcomer, with "Doctorin' the House" a year earlier. These house music boffins were ace at digging up unknowns and making them into stars. Well, sort of. 

Turns out, Stansfield had been toiling away at that whole stardom thing for the entire length of the eighties. Emerging victorious on the UK talent show Search for a Star, she got signed up by a major record label and made further TV appearances. She was well-known enough to have merited an ITV documentary but her notoriety didn't translate into chart success. She would eventually form the group Blue Zone with a pair of mates which would eventually morph into her second and much more successful crack at a solo career. (It's unthinkable in this day and age to have an X Factor winner take the better part of ten years to establish themselves. On the other hand, given short chart career lifespans of such contestants, she may have been better off in the long term that it took her so long to have a hit)

So, "The Only Way" is a part of Lisa Stansfield's back story. On the sleeve, she looks very young, her hair nicely permed and sporting (in David Hepworth's words) a "rather fetching string vest"; a far cry, then, from the mature, short cropped (with a curl prominently featured on her forehead) and tailored (though no less fetching) power suits look she would have at the end of the decade. (Being just sixteen, it seems appropriate that her image has more than a little of the yearbook to it) Her voice, too, is different. Though still powerful — Hepworth credits producer David Pickerill with "boosting her little girl voice until it's just this side of glass-shattering" but that's as much a tribute to Stansfield's performance — her singing lacks that distinctive elasticity that would eventually convince a lot of people that she was a major talent. Still, there's enough here to see that she had loads of potential.

What brings things down a bit is the song itself. Living and dying by its catchy chorus and hooks a plenty, the lyrics are awfully hollow, depicting Lisa getting up early and being in a rush and going off to do whatever it is she has lined up for the day before heading back home to the dinginess of home that evening. The day itself isn't even worth mentioning. Now, perhaps this is a commentary on how the pursuit of pop music glory renders everything into a blur with scarcely any time for living one's life. The only way to get ahead is to be constantly on the move (or something). All well and good but how about some resolution to the story or more detail beyond generalities like "touch of the Monday morning blues" or some sort of acknowledgement as to why I'm supposed to care. Throw me a bone, people.

Perhaps a similar attitude sunk its chart fortunes in spite of Hepworth considering it a "contender". No Top 5 position, no lost credibility points, no apologetic chiming in its defense. So, let me be the first to belatedly say (above quibbles aside), "actually, I quite like this": actually, I quite like this.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Marvin Gaye: "Sexual Healing"

While other sixties holdovers were beginning to be critically dumped on (see Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, The Rolling Stones) around this time, Marvellous Marvin was enjoying a revival of sorts. "Sexual Healing" has always struck me as undeserving of its classic status even if it's probably the best he was capable of at this late stage of his life. Having alienated many more people than just his long-suffering ex-wife with his controversial masterpiece Here, My Dear four years earlier, it's easy to see why so many people were happy to have the louche and gentle Marvin of old back. Unfortunately, this is a prime example of Ian MacDonald's assertion that Gay "longed to be a messenger but hadn't much to say". (I was going to say that it's lyrically trite but how often do you come across songs that rhyme 'oven' with 'lovin'?) It's worth noting that something in his dark heart is there longing to be expressed: could sexual healing be the only thing to give him respite given the creative, financial and personal troubles that plagued him? Too bad the porn-without-the-explicit-bits video that accompanies it kind of undercuts the trace amounts of expressiveness old Marv was able to inject.