Tracey Thorn: "Goodbye Joe" / "Plain Sailing"

6 January 1983

"Everything But The Girl chanteuse Thorn provides all vocals and instruments and artfully assumes the kind of breathy, mysterious tone of the '50s solo girl singers she doubtless greatly admires."

— Mark Ellen, probably

It must frustrate pop critics to no end how the acts they frequently tip for the big time end up not quite getting there. Obviously there are many better examples covered just in this blog than Everything but the Girl even if it took the duo some time before they began to score hits — and even then, chart action was something that came and went for them until their massive 1995 breakthrough "Missing". Yet, there was so much potential there that journalists and other musicians could see that otherwise went unrecognized by the public at large — until they inevitably caught on.

Mark Ellen (the presumed reviewer this fortnight who must've been feeling more comfortable in a state of anonymity) cites Tracey Thorn as being from Everything but the Girl but it is likely that her better-known project of the time was Marine Girls, a group that the singer had formed with school friend Gina Hartman. Though only in their late-teens, they had already issued in the album Beach Party in 1981. Still, with Thorn heading up to Hull for university, Marine Girls would be on hiatus but she remained signed to indie label Cherry Red as a solo artist. It was there she met label mate Ben Watt with whom she would form Everything but the Girl.

So, let's take stock: Tracey Thorn, solo artist; Ben Watt, solo artist; Marine Girls, group; Everything but the Girl, group. All signed to the same hip record label and all seemingly being given equal attention. This is not a rock band with extra curricular projects floating about during off periods, it's almost as if Thorn and Watt were hedging their bets. As Johnny Black says in the 1984 Smash Hits Yearbook, EBTG was "not so much a group, more a kind of ongoing creative liaison". Black concludes the piece by wondering which musical project will end up having hits first.

The double A side of "Goodbye Joe" and "Plain Sailing" proves that it could just as easily have been Thorn on her own. With all due respect to Gina Hartman, Ben Watt and Paul Weller, her talent is sufficient to craft remarkable pop. Neither of these sides had much in the way of commercial potential but it should have been clear to all that she had the voice, the musical chops and the command of pop. In one way or another, she was going to take off eventually.

Originally laced with irony by The Monochrome Set, "Goodbye Joe" is given a mournful treatment as performed by Thorn. Silly, inconsequential fun in its original form becomes stately here. While it could be said that she manages to strangle all the humour out of it, perhaps one of Thorn's great talents is to find the tracest elements of sorrow and tragedy in even the most trivial of songs and still manage to avoid self-righteousness or melodrama. She also plays a precision guitar solo, the sort of which provided the foundation for Belle & Sebastian's very existence. (Her partner Watt was meanwhile busy inventing everything that made Norwegian duo Kings of Convenience worthwhile)

Its companion piece, "Plain Sailing", is equally affecting. First released on her '82 solo debut A Distant Shore, the original version is full of echo and has a sparseness that goes with all-acoustic, no-special-guests works. Redone for the legendary 99p Cherry Red compilation Pillows & Prayers, it has sleigh bells (or bells of some kind) added to help give it a breezier pace. They're a welcome decorative touch and one that doesn't feel crassly commercial. Yes, I know we're supposed to appreciate the rawness of indie darlings recording on a shoestring but the single release is more professional and fleshed-out without sacrificing any of the original's beauty.

Only Thorn's vocals give an indication of what was coming and that was jazz pop. It took a little longer to catch than Ellen predicts but it eventually would. It may have come as Marine Girls or as Everything but the Girl or as Tracey Thorn herself but it was bound to happen.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Box: "No Time for Talk" (aka The Box EP)

Not to be confused with the Montreal new wave band of the same name. Turns out, this lot are the much better Box. Sounding as if the Art Ensemble of Chicago had decided to dabble in amphetamine-fueled post-punk, I was expecting something of a slow burn but I was drawn in about halfway through my first listen. Ellen isn't terribly impressed ("It's a lot more challenging to try and make records you can actually listen to") but it's thrilling in places and I'm quite pleased that there was someone out there looking to merge free jazz with modern sounds, rather than more mellow and trendier styles the way Weekend (and indeed Everything but the Girl) had gone about it. Not the sort of thing I'd listen to on a regular basis but this Box deserves props for trying out something that no one else had the nerve to do themselves.

(Click here to see my original review)

Depeche Mode: "See You"

21 January 1982

"If it doesn't make Number One, I'll write and complain."

— Mark Ellen

Letters

Smash Hits Letters

52-55 Carnaby Street

London W1V 1PF

£5 record token for the viewer who we take pity on the most.

~~~~~

OH LOUISE, won't you smile at me

Like that time in R.E.?

Miss Wickens spoke with scorn

Though she seem rather forlorn

Telling us to compose our own private creed

(Mistaking me perhaps for the Venerable Bede)

Then you shot me a glance

And my heart did a dance

But ever since then you just look away

Though my eyes, they refuse to stray.

You act as if you simply don't care

Of my heart, you just aren't aware

And that's why Louise, I really must speak

Because my will goes ever so weak

I swear I won't touch

I just wish to be with you so much

And now all I want is to see you again

Though I know not where or when

Maybe it will be over half-term break

When you're out for a stroll 'round Appleby Lake

Then you'll pop over to mine on Galveston Road

We'll listen to Altered Images and Depeche Mode

Maybe you'll even smile at me

Like you did that time in R.E.

Graham D., Cheltenham

Are you sure this Louise of your's doesn't prefer other groups? Groups that might make her smile more than once? Groups that do not make her look away? Groups that she'll happily spend half-hols with? Have a record token so you might impress her more. Just a bit of advice from one lonely git to another.

~~~~~

Q: IF THE members of Depeche Mode became members of MI6, what would they call themselves?

A: Basildon Bond.

Lucy, Torquay

~~~~~

WHAT A nice surprise to see the newly three-piece Depeche Mode on the cover of the latest issue of Smash Hits! My delight only grew when I saw that the wonderful Mr. Mark Ellen named their latest hit See You as his single of the week! I suppose I ought to be grateful that the Hits has finally started to recognise the abilities of Basildon's finest but I can't help but feel a slight sense of anticlimax: what took you so bloomin' long?

Depeche Mode have been gradually gaining momentum over the last year or so and it has been disappointing that the music press has ignored them up until now in favour of Haircut One Hundred and The Police. What do they have that the Mode doesn't? Do third form students jot down Sting's lyrics in the margins of their notebooks in the middle of geography class? Do the Haircuts inspire a dreamscape world of art, groovy people and philosophy? I think not!

Good job but try harder with emerging acts next time.

Nancy, Braintree

We imagine that Haircut 100 and Bucks Fizz inspire a love of pop music in people, as do Depeche Mode. But our apologies nonetheless. The next time synth-noodlers from an English New Town emerge from the shadows we'll be there. Count on it!

~~~~~

WELL DONE, Mark Ellen. You had so many good records to choose from. You had The Jam. Spandau Ballet. Soft Cell. Japan. Bow Wow Wow. I would've even accepted Hazel O'Connor for god's sake! But to pick those talentless turds Depeche Mode? I'll admit that "Just Can't Get Enough" was all right but all the pop flash they had has departed along with Vince Clarke. I can't believe you'd praise something so dull and lacking in merit. If they're light years ahead then I'd hate to see what's in our future. Thankfully they've had their last hit and we won't be hearing from them again, you watch. Write in and complain about that!

Richard Skegness

We'll hold you to that, Rich. Send us a crate of Skegness Rock to the address above if the Deps do manage to eek out one more hit.

~~~~~

I notice that Depeche Mode's latest single has the line "I know five years is a long time and that times change". With that in mind I thought I share my predictions about what the pop world will be like for them in 1987.

1) Vince Clarke begs his old band to bring him back. They only agree but he is relegated to being a junior member as punishment. His lyrics are even tweer than ever.

2) Andy Fletcher solves the problem of their dull live shows by frolicking about on stage like Heidi. Depeche Mode's popularity goes through the roof but he can never show his face in Basildon again.

3) Martin Gore discovers that he is indeed the genius Vince pegged him to be. His genius is for knitting. He revolutionizes the Irish wool jumper industry.

4) Dave Gahan becomes an even bigger pop pin-up than he already is. This, however, leads him more in the direction of pure pop which makes the group's old audience cross. Sensibly, he chooses the adoration of girls over students.

5) This Alan Wilder bloke eventually becomes a full-time member (even he has seniority over Vince!) but he quickly becomes the one no one knows anything about. Mums are over Britain reckon he's "dishy".

Dillon, Cambridge

~~~~~

DID YOU know that if you rearrange the letters of Depeche Mode you get 'Chop Me Dee Dee'. What a violent image.

Terry, Arundel

So what? If you do the same for Kim Wilde you get 'Wide Milk'. Toyah turns into 'Ya Hot'. ABC becomes 'Cab'. Duran Duran...'And And Ru Ru"? We've been struggling for an anagram for Dexys Midnight Runners. Suggestions to the address above. A five quid record token to anyone who can manage it.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Soft Cell: "Say Hello Wave Goodbye"

SOFT CELL'S records ever since "Tainted Love" have been missing something, haven't they? It's almost as if they've been incomplete. With this in mind, I have decide to try to improve on "Say Hello Wave Goodbye". Mark Ellen thinks the words are up to much and I think he's on to something. Starting with The Jam and Elvis Costello and working backwards from there, I'm going to take the lyrics of other songs and see if they fit better. Eventually I'll find something deep and poetic that works and helps to make it into a much better song. Then I'll send it to Marc Almond and Dave Norris, If they don't like it, maybe I'll record it instead. Who knows? Maybe I'll be in the pages of Smash Hits someday!

David G., Sale, Cheshire

We at Smash Hits salute your efforts David. The songs of Weller and Costello will be good starting off points but you may want to try someone a little older. The late John Lennon perhaps. Or Ian Anderson from ancient progers Jethro Tull. Maybe Ulster shouter Van Morrison even...

(Click here for earlier correspondence from ver "kids". They're largely the same only not as good. Not unlike if you compare Soft Cell's "Say Hello..." to David G.'s way off in the future)

The Human League: "The Sound of the Crowd"

30 April 1981

"I see it now...the year is 2000! Revivalist groups are trying to reconstruct the genuine sound of the synthesiser. This they achieve by banging a hammer on a corrugated iron roof in time to an assortment of for-horns, humming kettles and finely-tuned cake tins."

— Mark Ellen

The eighties revival would indeed occur. Grunge, MTV Unplugged and rockist notions that the guitar was all that mattered weren't able to make it out of the nineties. The "decade that taste forgot" (wasn't that also they would describe the seventies?) would be back in retro nights at clubs. We would ironically enjoy the music of Journey and Toto. Groundbreaking eighties' videos from the likes of A-ha, Michael Jackson and Dire Straits made us long for a time when promos were an event in themselves. The nineties had been all about authenticity but it only succeeded in making us want to have more artifice than ever. But "The Sound of the Crowd" would soundtrack very few retro parties and revivalists weren't seeking it out. It would be a Human League single from the end of the year that would provide the basis of their legacy.

The Human League had been toiling away for four years and had become leaders of Sheffield's music scene. On a national level, however, interest in them had been minimal. A potentially fatal schism over the group's direction led to the departures of founding members Ian Craig Marsh and Martyn Ware, leaving the duo of Philip Oakey (who was always more a singer than musician) and Adrian Wright (then still in the very un-muso role of 'film technician') to figure out the group's next move. A lot has been made of the recruitment of teenage girls Joanne Catherall and Susanne Sulley but keyboardists Ian Burden and Jo Callis joining up was just as important. Now a sextet, it was time for them to start performing and recording.

Sulley has said that her and Catherall were resented by "blokes" on their first tour and it's likely that calls of "sell out" were directed at them. Nevertheless, their concerts were well-received and the singer felt that they had "turned the corner". Yet, this new incarnation of the League was still clouded in uncertainty. The typically avant garde single "Boys and Girls" (performed by the duo of Oakey and Wright) appeared and only just missed the Top 40, a sign that perhaps their time was coming. The critics, however, weren't impressed with David Hepworth expressing doubt that the group had any intention of ever crafting a hit record.

As if heeding Heps' warning to "shape up", Burden and Callis were signed up (the former initially on a trial basis around the same time that Catherall and Sulley turned up). Oakey and Wright had been determined to make it as DIY as possible, the compliance of machines being favoured over the potential hassles of session musicians. Then, the pair did an about face, one that was so abrupt it ended up being chronicled by Ian Cranna in the May 14 issue of Smash Hits (they commenced the interview still determined to go about it themselves, took a meeting with record company execs and producer Martin Rushent and returned to Cranna suddenly embracing the concept of proper musicians).

All this led to their next move, the charts. "The Sound of the Crowd" is a terrific dance record that has 1981 pop trends written all over it. On the other hand, there's a distinct harshness to it as well, a quality that had been retained from the Marsh-Ware era of "Being Boiled" and "Empire State Human". That said, even The Human League's most radical works were still grounded in pop music values (for all of its avant garde qualities, The Dignity of Labour, their EP dedicated to Soviet space exploration, has its moments of pure catchiness, particularly its irresistible third part). If new members were signing on and new approaches were being considered, the very essence of The Human League seemed to be intact. The synths could've been smoothed over and the impressionist lyrics could've been reconsidered if they were really trying to bend over backwards to get that elusive hit single.

The pace of their trajectory suddenly seems startlingly fast. It is the spring of '81 and they were still trying to figure out where they would be heading next. Eight months later they would have the UK Christmas Number One and LP Dare would be the consensus album of the year. It's easy to look at "The Sound of the Crowd" as an odd choice for the first single — surely any one of "Love Action (I Believe in Love)", "Open Your Heart" or "Don't You Want Me" would've been stronger if they had really been serious about finally cracking the Top 40 — but this ignores the fact their future hadn't been set that April. "The Sound of the Crowd" had to be their next single since there was nothing else at hand.

When fans complain that their favourite group has "sold out" they seldom consider the context. It seems Oakey and Wright were out to prove that they could keep The Human League going in spite of the Marsh and Ware having left. They then attempted to work out what they were capable of and then looked to Catherall, Sulley, Burden and Callis for help. Their finest single yet resulted and from there the floodgates would open. Things had been looking up but success wasn't guaranteed. The attractive girls Oakey had recruited weren't being exploited and it would be a while before they would become the focal point of the band (the same May 14 edition of ver Hits includes the lyrics to "The Sound of the Crowd" with an accompanying photo of Oakey, Wright and Callis; the girls did feature in a snap on the second page of the Cranna interview albeit in pre-pinup mode). Meanwhile, Marsh and Ware were busy with their B.E.F. pet project and they would soon form Heaven 17: any longtime Human League fans who wished to take the self-righteous high ground about selling out would've been disappointed by the direction of the much more serious faction of their beloved group.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Japan: "The Art of Parties" / "Life Without Buildings"

Like ver League, Japan had been putting out a string of singles for years that hadn't managed to catch on but they looked to be finding their way with the modest Top 50 success of "The Art of Parties". Ellen calls it a "safety shot" which probably seemed a lot more apparent at the time then it does more than forty years later. For sure there's this melange of Scary Monsters-era Bowie, Talking Heads energy, the atmospherics of late-period Roxy Music and horns that evoke white boy soul but this hardly seems like the safest hand to play — or if this is an example of them capitulating to commercial pressures then they managed to sell out with as much of their integrity as possible. The Human League had turned the corner and so too had Japan. (The two songs are listed as a double A-side but that appears to be a mistake on the part of either Smash Hits or the group's PR. "Life Without Buildings" is a fine work in its own right but there's no way it would've been considered for single status. David Sylvian barely being on it doesn't help)

Joe Jackson Band: "Beat Crazy"

8 January 1981

"It's wise to ignore Joe's caustic jibes about the slaves of fashion and just succumb to the forceful reggae-boned attack. It's hard to tell if he's serious anyway."

— Mark Ellen

When it comes to Joe Jackson's chart fortunes it was either sink or swim. The new wave classic "Is She Really Going Out with Him?" took its time but it eventually made the Top 20, even if it deserved better. As if to overcompensate, the inferior "It's Different for Girls" did brisk enough business to end up all the way in the UK Top 5. Solid, encouraging performances for Jackson but there was little else to show for it. Stellar (if sometimes unlikeable) singles  "Sunday Papers", "One More Time" and "I'm the Man" all failed to capitalize on his success and it wouldn't be until 1982 that he had a belated return to the charts — and one that proved to be yet another one off.

Even with all that in mind, his early-eighties' commercial fall off seems difficult to comprehend. Jackson's first two albums — Look Sharp and I'm the Man, both from a very productive 1979 — were critically acclaimed and their respective chart peaks showed an upward trend. Then it all came undone with Beat Crazy. Credited to the Joe Jackson Band, it appropriately allowed the spotlight to shine a bit more on the largely overlooked trio that backed his nibs. Bassist Graham Maby even takes the bulk of the lead vocal on the title track, a fact Mark Ellen fails to point out in his review. (Not that I blame him, I always assumed it was Jackson himself trying to be a little more vocally dexterous) Nevertheless, there's no question who's in charge. Fans and critics may have wanted more of the same but he was not about to grant them that wish.

It probably didn't help that this is a song that goes after the very people who were potential Joe Jackson fans. Ellen advises that we should take no notice of him and that's probably wise counsel when dealing with him in general. His fans may have seen it otherwise but his wit failed to register to the same extent as fellow late-seventies songsmiths Elvis Costello, Chris Difford, Nick Lowe and Andy Partridge; indeed, they could all give Jackson a serious run in the 'grumpiest man in pop' stakes yet they all possessed a charm that he never had. XTC were often content to explore the generational gulf the way Jackson does here in songs such as "This Is Pop", "Respectable Street" and "No Thugs in Our House" but their efforts didn't leave listeners questioning their motives to nearly the same extent.

That said, Ellen is correct that the tune is what we should be focused on. Shifting between hard-hitting ska and a wistful, swaying waltz, it is far more musically advanced than your average new waver or Birmingham-based reggae outfit. Time shifts, tempo changes, these aren't the hallmarks of an oik hiding behind punk. And this makes me wonder that he might have agreed with more than a little of the sentiments in "Beat Crazy". The kids were persisting with wasting their time ("it's such a crime") in a subgenre that had long become tired. And for the sartorial Jackson, his observations on their distinct lack of style ("they say the world is in a mess / but they can talk the way they dress") rings more than a little true.

Ellen is especially taken by the flip side of "Beat Crazy" and this live version of "Is She Really Going Out with Him?" is a wonderful slice of where Jackson had been and where he was headed, if not where he stood at the moment. The song's sparse, new wave arrangement obscured just what a perfect pop song it always was and this quality shines all the more in this live rendition that, in Ellen's words, recalls The Nolans — and which still manages to remain outstanding! Largely a cappella, it suggests a much more easy listening sound on the horizon and that's no bad thing. His musical gifts had been languishing behind being in a rock band and it was time for the real Joe Jackson to emgerge. Sure, this meant the blossoming of a curmudgeon but so too did "Steppin' Out", "Real Men" and "Breaking Us in Two" and this is the Joe Jackson that matters to me — pop stardom be damned.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Lincoln Thompson & The Rasses: "Spaceship"

Marrying Jamaican music with space rock may not seem like the greatest idea but Joe Meek and Scratch Perry have always had more than a little in common: both made studio limitations into playgrounds for a kind of Blue Peter, cobbled-together futurism. (Dub classics such as The Upsetters' Super Ape and Augustus Pablo's King Tubby Meets Rockers Uptown owed at least as much to "Telstar" as they did to "My Boy Lollipop") Within this context, "Spaceship" is a triumph and doesn't even feature any of the major players mentioned above (though it does include contributions from the Joe Jackson Band). Well worth checking out.

Jona Lewie: "Stop the Cavalry"

27 November 1980

"In cavalry terms, it's called reversing the charges."

— Mark Ellen

As chart bronze medalists go, they don't get much bigger than "Stop the Cavalry". 1980's Christmas number one stakes ought to have been a thrilling race with credible challengers Adam & The Ants, Madness and The Police all in contention. (Curiously, both ABBA and Blondie released their swansong imperial period chart toppers — "Super Trouper" and "The Tide Is High" respectively — too early on in the autumn for a serious push come December) Still, none of these groups delivered their best work and it ought to have been left to perennial also-ran Jona Lewie and his poignant wartime anthem to take that year's crown. And it would have had it not been for Mark David Chapman and a children's choir. "Stop the Cavalry" got stuck in the trenches with no chance of further advancement.

In the aftermath of his shocking assassination in New York on December 8, 1980, there was a glut of John Lennon product filling the shelves. While the Americans loyally took the already released "(Just Like) Starting Over" to the top for over a month, the British had a great deal more to choose from. "Starting Over" was already slipping down the charts by the time Lennon was gunned down but it had a head start on its rivals and rebounded by flying straight to the top a week later. Others would join it soon. The week of Christmas there were three Lennon singles in the Top 10 (the other two being the seasonal classic "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" and the now often unfairly maligned "Imagine") and it put them in competition with each other. (A week later the three singles remained in their exact same chart spots before "Happy Xmas" managed to climb two places in the first week of 1981, a sign of how high the demand was for Lennon material at this sad point) This left a spot open for Jona Lewie, who unfortunately ended up getting usurped by the St. Winifred's School Choir with their unspeakably awful "There's No One Quite Like Grandma".

Sally Lindsay was a seven-year-old student who sang on the unexpected Christmas number one and who would one day go on to play the character of Shelly on Coronation Street. She has said how bad she felt that they deprived Britain of having Lennon top the charts over the holiday because their record was "crap". But the real shame was that Jona Lewie's vastly superior Christmas record didn't have the legs to beat out both of them.

Lewie was one of those people who had been signed to the Stiff label and, thus, was tied to the pub rock scene. Like of a lot figures attached to it, he was older than your average pop star, having been a veteran of a variety of bands throughout the seventies. The pub rockers had some things in common — they tended to place a premium on songwriting and had their roots in sixties' pop — but the music itself varied greatly from one artist to the next. Lewie had been raised on blues and jazz but he also had talents that gravitated towards folk. Those pub rockers knew their stuff and could play damn-near any style requested of them.

As Mark Ellen notes, Lewie had been left behind as his colleagues ventured beyond the Canvey Island clubs. The charts alluded him until the spring of 1980 when "You'll Always Find Me in the Kitchen at Parties" gave him a much needed Top 20 hit. Sounding like a much more laid back Ian Dury, he spins a humourous yarn about, er, always being in the kitchen at parties. He's backed by a vaguely reggae beat and plenty of sythny bits which are interesting if not quite engaging. If it happens to be a novelty song then the gag wears thin pretty quickly; if it isn't a novelty then it just seems like a joke and not even a very funny one.

"You'll Always Find Me in the Kitchen at Parties" gave Lewie a foothold in the hit parade but it's likely that "Stop the Cavalry" would have done well regardless. He may not have written it with Christmas in mind — though isn't it odd how these unintended Yuletide numbers always appear just in time for the big day — but the combination of the season, the song's message, the instrumentation and a tune that thousands of people could get behind ensured that it was going to do very well.

That bit of reggae remains from its predecessor — albeit slowed down and played as if on a pump organ — but the synths are kept in check by what Ellen calls a "sort of Salvation Army backing" of "tubas, drum rolls, sleigh bells, etc.". (Again, why is it that sleigh bells always end up in songs that aren't supposed to be meant to be Christmassy?) While "...Kitchen at Parties" tried too hard to be jolly, there's nothing similar going on here. Lewie plays the part of a simple Tommy and it is his less-than-lettered observations that make the song so charming ("...I'll run for all presidencies": a vow he clearly didn't put much thought into); by contrast, lyrics that hint at much more aware soldier ("while the Tsar and Jim have tea": I feel compelled to look up who this 'Jim' is meant to be but I also feel like I shouldn't have to) distract a bit from the concise narrative. But why nitpick when I can happily listen and sing along?

There's nothing especially brilliant about "Stop the Cavalry" but it's difficult to imagine a Christmas compilation or playlist without it. Yet, there are worries that it may gradually fade from Britain's seasonal canon in favour of olde time American classics by Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, as well as Mariah Carey's slightly overrated "All I Want for Christmas Is You". The British deal with reality in their Christmas songs, even if it's a fantasy of said reality. It was bad enough when Mark Chapman and some brats from Manchester ruined Jona Lewie's chances of nabbing the Christmas number one but the chances of someone like him getting that close again are growing increasingly remote.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Bow Wow Wow: Your Cassette Pet

Ellen describes this eight song mini album (which, strangely, qualified at the time as a single due to only being available on tape) as "Brilliant!" but he neglects to mention the music within, so I chose to disqualify it as a de facto Single of the Fortnight on those grounds. Malcolm McLaren's charges that he nicked from the original Adam & The Ants as well as teenage vocalist Annabelle Lwin were expert at pressing people's buttons as well as keeping a more genuine punk spirit alive, even if it was as contrived as Jimmy Pursey put upon rage. After-all, no one else championed tapes like they did: they released the first cassette single (with a blank second side) and this was in effect a brand new LP available only in this most D.I.Y. of formats. A triumph of packaging and marketing to the extent the music within hardly matters.

Pauline Murray & The Invisible Girls: "Mr. X"

30 October 1980

"This is marvellous; a richly-produced synthesizer backcloth that gives words like "haunting" a new lease on life."

— Mark Ellen

So, the likes of the great Mark Ellen were weary of the same old punk nonsense three years on (those old reliable fossils The UK Subs have a new release in this issue!) but what of "new" wave and post-punk? If those noisy old one-chord wonders had become tired by 1980 what about all those gloomy five-piece groups with a deadpan vocalist, rumbling guitar and bass and admittedly quite wonderful drumming who cut records that all sounded the same? In such a bleak landscape, is it any wonder the New Pop revolution couldn't have come fast enough?

"Mr. X" was a single recorded by former punk Pauline Murray alongside supergroup adjacent The Invisible Girls (notably, an all-male outfit: I suppose those "girls" would not have been easy to spot). It bears many of the hallmarks of that familiar post-punk sound but has enough little tweaks that it is able to stand out. First, as Ellen suggests, there's Murray's voice: if not quite expressive then certainly not flat either, grounded and one that suggests that it's not far off from the way she speaks as well. With so few genuinely outstanding singers during this period, I am glad that Ellen is able to spot one.

A Manchester-area band that had previously backed the legendary cult figure John Cooper Clarke, The Invisible Girls was a sort of Warehouse city equivalent to Merseyside's Big in Japan with virtually everyone involved being of some importance musically. Factory Records producer Martin Hannett, keyboardist Steve Hopkins and guitarist Vini Reilly of The Durutti Column were the group's backbone and they were joined by Buzzcocks drummer John Maher on the album Pauline Murray and the Invisible Girls. (Bernard Sumner and future Mission frontman Wayne Hussey also appear though not on "Mr. X") While the industrial grime of Joy Division is clearly an influence, there's enough musical diversity going on that it fails to end up conveniently slotted into a category.

Hannett's role is especially crucial. His production on Joy Division's groundbreaking albums Unknown Pleasures and Closer had been a key to the group's short-lived acclaim and success and it's why they remain such potent records to this day. Ian Curtis' suicide put all that to an abrupt end — for the moment anyway — but working with Murray gave him a greater opportunity to utilize synthesizers in his recordings, which would come in handy when the surviving members of Joy Division reconvened the following year as New Order. But this is no mere stepping stone: "Mr. X" has a surprisingly full sound and whoever had the idea to add bongos to the mix is to be commended.

Despite the high quality of the finished product, "Mr. X" failed to chart in a year that may not have been ready for it. Manchester in its post-punk boom period had a lot of time for genuinely charismatic lead singers (Ian Curtis, Howard Devoto, even Mark E. Smith in his own unique fashion) but it, and the country in general, may not have been quite as prepared for such a flamboyant song. A shift would gradually take place with a new generation of Mancunian vocalists who combined the stage presence of their forefathers with a new found pop audacity. Morrissey, Bernard Sumner, Ian Brown and Shaun Ryder would be at the centre of a movement that would make the city a musical flagship. I hope they thanked the singer from Newcastle, and not just the renowned group of musicians she'd been working with, for pushing them forward.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Attractions: "Arms Race"

"Arms Race", huh? Sounds like a track that had been left off of Armed Forces; did the Attractions "borrow" it from their boss Elvis Costello? Apparently not. Some of the selections this fortnight are the result of extracurricular projects with XTC's rhythm section masking as The Colonel on "Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen" and Blockhead veteran Chas Jankel with something called "Ai No Corrida" and this is also where Steve Nieve, Bruce Thomas and Pete Thomas fit in without their famous leader. As probably the best backing band in the business along with the E-Street Band, one would expect some distinguished playing but the apparent desire to distance themselves from their day job results in "Arms Race" being a triumph in production effects while not quite working as an overall tune. I wasn't aware that something so fresh and unusual could also be so forgettable. Nevertheless, they also happened to be at work on Trust, the superlative 1981 Costello album that would really give this group of musicians a chance to shine properly.

The Teardrop Explodes: "When I Dream"

18 September 1980

"Further upstream from their once sombre, sparser sound, Liverpool's Teardrop devise a richly textured tuneful keyboard ballad (that's the word!) that's bursting its sides with lightness, depth and ingenuity."

— Mark Ellen

What I previously said:

Reviewer Mark Ellen described this as "bursting its sides with lightness, depth and ingenuity" and it's not difficult to see why. Julian Cope and his old Teardrop mates leave nothing on the table for this, even if it does go on a bit long — although there could be a single edit that I'm not aware of, I used the version that closes the kind-of-dated-but-also-kind-of-timeless Kilimanjaro. A cracker.

Pop music in the seventies had been all about mega-successful albums. Rockists will obviously cite Led Zeppelin's fourth LP and Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon but it wasn't just at the long haired metal bands and prog rockers who dominated with the 33⅓ format. David Bowie, Elton John, Joni Mitchell and (see below) Stevie Wonder built their hall-of-fame careers on the string of extraordinary albums they released over the decade. Bob Dylan returned to the top with Blood on the Tracks, his best work in a decade. Marvin Gaye broke out of his Motown straight jacket when he delivered the hugely influential What's Going On. Even disco artists got in on the act: with 12" singles still in their infancy, Donna Summer released LP's with extended cuts on the label Casablanca Records that captured to sweaty ecstasy of Studio 54. Some of theses individuals also did well on the singles charts at the same time but it was no longer a requirement and 45's were typically neutered to more radio-friendly running times.

There were holdouts to this trend, however. Paced by punk, British acts of the late-seventies began to focus on singles. Now, a lot of musicologists will go into all that stuff about the crippling recession of the time but this big picture explanation leaves out the realities of the everyday person and the towns they were living in. The economy may have been suffering but music was thriving. Clubs were all over the place and there were eager bands aplenty to play them every night. Independent record labels also began springing up.

British pop at the close of the seventies marked a return of the single as the preeminent format and many of the best albums of the time are almost like greatest hits collections. XTC's Black Sea, Madness' Absolutely, Dexys Midnight Runners' Searching for the Young Soul Rebels, The Jam's Sound Affects, The Specials' More Specials all still sound like compilatinos of singles and b-sides and they're all the better for it. (Elvis Costello took it to an extreme with Get Happy!! which was designed to look like an obscure old album and was packed with twenty soul/Motown-esque tracks)

But no one did this as well as The Teardrop Explodes. With a background in the psychedelic garage rock of Love and The Thirteenth Floor Elevators, more prog tendencies on their second album Wilder and Julian Cope's subsequent career releasing sprawling LP's of thrilling nonsense, you might assume that they'd be a more album-oriented group like Joy Division or Talking Heads but you'd only be half-right. Debut Kilimanjaro has up to six singles on it (depending on which version of the album you have) but the group worked out a running order so expertly that you'd never know it was effectively a compilation album. Imagine if the numbers for, say, the classic Forever Changes had been culled from more than two years' worth of material while still sounding as coherent as it always has.

Initially a part of Liverpool-based indie label Zoo Records (co-run by David Balfe, who also happened to be their keyboard player, which is certainly a good way to get yourself signed), The Teardrop Explodes released a pair of well-regarded singles — "Sleeping Gas" and "Bouncing Babies" — that nevertheless failed to make much of an impact. Being on a tiny imprint, this hardly mattered: the records probably sold well enough around their Merseyside base while the group played gigs all over the place. An album was earmarked but didn't materialise in time. "Treason (It's Just a Story)" became their first single of the eighties and did well enough to become a sizable indie chart hit. Things were going well enough that they signed with major label Mercury and "When I Dream" became their first real shot at the mainstream.

Ellen is impressed that they've moved on from their former "sombre, sparser sound" which is something I'd never thought of until this week. It was only when I sequenced the Kilimanjaro album to play the first four singles in chronological order that I began to see his point. "Sleeping Gas" and "Bouncing Babies" are both spirited affairs but they were both produced with that clean, skeletal post-punk sound: chugging guitars, primal beats and some organ playing that could easily have been played by Steve Nieve of The Attractions — and with little else in the background. "Treason" is a turning point, with greater emphasis placed on dynamic effects courtesy of the famed Langer-Winstanley team. With major label backing, there was more of an opportunity to explore to the fullest extent, which sort of belies the punk ethos (one that is notably echoed by Julian Cope) that D.I.Y. values are best.

"When I Dream" wasn't the most obvious single in their repetoire. The closing track on Kilimanjaro, it is over five minutes long and really feels like the sort of deep cut that committed followers swear by while remaining obscure to everyone else. (Ellen calls it a "ballad" which is only really accurate in the realm of Teardrop/Cope numbers) They could've gone with "Poppies" or "Brave Boys Keep Their Promises" and no one would've blamed them. Yet, "When I Dream" deserved to have the privilege of headlining its own single. Less dense than earlier efforts, there's a pleasant bubbliness to the tune which lightens the song that Cope is singing. A much more restrained performance from Balfe on the keys ought to have been in order but that would have weighed it down. Cope is at his best when he sings profound material in as comical a style as possible and his Teardrop associates seem to understand this.

We tend to keep compilations at a distance from so-called studio albums (unless they happen to be one of those few accepted collections like Hatful of Hollow). Listeners like to think that groups craft their LP's in a similar fashion to the way The Beatles did with Please Please Me. Yet, "proper" albums may take months and years to record and they are frequently compiled just like a greatest hits. Either way, it doesn't matter; a sense of end-to-end unity is what we all crave when we sit down to listen to an album of any kind. Plus, it doesn't hurt to have some killer singles to put out at the same time. The Teardrop Explodes did more than enough in both respects, regardless of how it all came together.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Stevie Wonder: "Master Blaster (Jammin')"

Ellen is pleased that Stevie is back crafting lovely pop rather than whatever it is he was trying to do on that Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants thing. That said, he seems aware that the glory days are gone ("Three years ago his music was a celebration in itself. Now...who knows?"). Like Miles Davis, The Beatles and Bowie, Wonder had been leading music by the collar but now he was the one doing the following. "Boogie on Reggae Woman" was the closest thing to Jamaican music that I ever wanted from him but I'll take this as a bonus. Hotter Than July would be the first Stevie Wonder album in ages that no needed to have but at least the fumes he was riding on were from his incredible peak. Being a shadow of himself would have to wait a bit.

Tracey Thorn: "Goodbye Joe"

6 January 1983

"This'll catch on and the whole of '83 will be flooded with bare-footed types in jumpers and slacks strumming away on bar-stools. You just wait.

— Mark Ellen (attr.)

My local newspaper — the one that tried a bit not to be overly right wing — used to print weekly music charts when I was a boy. I don't remember if they were local, national or conjured up by a bored music journalist but what always stood out was something called the 'College Rock Top Ten'. The name itself was puzzling since surely University Rock makes far more sense. Even I knew that the best students went to uni and those not good enough had to settle for college (turns out, that's mostly a Canadian thing). More important, just who were these people on this chart? I probably had a vague idea about R.E.M. since they were starting to become well-known by '87 but the rest meant absolutely nothing to me. I suppose the likes of Dinosaur Jr and Sonic Youth and The Pixies appeared but that's just projecting on my part.

The other thing about so-called college rock that flummoxed me was the discovery that these groups generally weren't university students themselves. While many certainly had at one point attended post-secondary school, these people tended to be older, full-time touring musicians, who were signed to record labels of varying size and prestige and did the rounds of the late night talk show circuit and MTV (MuchMusic in Canada). I had always figured that college rock groups started in one university, played gigs at their student union and got played on their campus radio station before eventually getting picked up by other schools in the area and, in time, all throughout North America. College students playing to other college students: imagine that.

Tracey Thorn had been a student at the University of Hull where she met another young aspiring singer songwriter named Ben Watt. Both were signed up by indie label Cherry Red Records as solo artists but they also brought their considerable talents together for Everything but the Girl, one of the seminal jazz-pop acts of the eighties. Their music would later on be labelled as 'sophisti-pop' but it would never be classified as college rock, strange considering they were probably the closest thing to it.

Just as last week's entry had an issue with the title, this one may have credited the wrong song — or failed to give equal billing. Among the comments on YouTube is one from someone called 'aramanth' who claims: "Smash Hits made a huge mistake in reviewing this in 1984 (sic.). The single she released was Plain Song (sic.) but Smash Hits played the other side Goodbye Joe and made it Single of the Fortnight! Great song though..." The Wikipedia page for "Plain Sailing" says that "Goodbye Joe" is its b-side. Go to Discogs, however, and you'll see that they were released as a double a-side (it's even etched on the back of the sleeve). Ellen maybe could have reviewed them as a two-fer but I suppose that's his prerogative. For all we know, he may have just pulled the record out of its sleeve and played the side that happened to greet him.

Originally laced with irony by The Monochrome Set, "Goodbye Joe" is given a mournful treatment as performed by Tracey Thorn. Silly, inconsequential fun in its original form becomes stately here. While it could be said that she manages to strangle all the humour out of it, perhaps one of Thorn's great talents is to find the tracest elements of sorrow and tragedy in even the most trivial of songs and still manage to avoid self-righteousness or melodrama. She also plays a prescision guitar solo, the sort of which provided the foundation for Belle & Sebastian's very existance. (Her partner Watt was meanwhile busy inventing everything that made Norwegian duo Kings of Convenience worthwhile)

Its companion piece, "Plain Sailing", is equally affecting. First released on her '82 solo debut A Distant Shore, the original version is full of echo and has a sparseness that goes with all-acoustic, no-special-guests works. Redone for the legendary 99p Cherry Red compilation Pillows & Prayers, it has sleigh bells (or bells of some kind) added to help give it a breezier pace. They're a welcome decorative touch and one that doesn't feel crassly commercial. Yes, I know we're supposed to appreciate the rawness of indie darlings recording on a shoestring but the single release is more professional and fleshed-out without sacrificing any of the original's beauty.

Only Thorn's vocals give an indication of what was coming and that was jazz pop. It took a little longer to catch than Ellen predicts but it eventually would. And that's the other thing about what college rock ought to have been: young performers leaning from musical dons above them. All those who would later be described as 'fey' and 'twee' learned from the craft of Thorn and Watt.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Level 42: "The Chinese Way"

With Tracey Thorn and her ilk moving in the direction of jazz, it's only right that there would be others moving away from it. Slowly transitioning from jazz-funk to mainstream pop, it's easy to see that Mark King and his Level 42 chums were struggling with quite how to pull it off. King's bass playing channels Jaco Pastorious and is easily the best thing about this catchy but not quite likable tune, while a Gould manages to look like Keith Jarrett but fails to play like him. It would be a while before they could squeeze a nifty pop tune like "Something About You", "Lessons in Love" or "Heaven in My Hands" (my own personal choice cut by ver Levs) but at least they were up for the challenge. Plenty of other jazz fusionists and prog rockers took to pop as though it were completely beneath them; good on the Isle of Wight's favourite sons enjoying themselves in the pop game.

Kim Wilde: "View from a Bridge"

15 April 1982

"The Wilde family comes up trumps again. Dad's written a spry story, Ricki has peppered his production with some Trevor Horn tactics while Kim supplies those wonderfully subdued and smokey vocals."

— Ian Birch

It's difficult to pinpoint the precise moment that Smash Hits — top pop mag loaded with song lyrics, features and reviews — became Smash Hits — even better pop mag with all of the above plus pages full of whimsy, hilarity and getting the members of U2 to draw pictures of ducks — but a key issue in along the way came out in the middle of April 1982 with contributor Mark Ellen pointing his fellow scribes in a direction they'd all soon be heading towards. Putting the newly famous Bananarama on the cover, ver Hits decides to dispense with all that exclusive interview/intimate profile nonsense and has the 'Narns traipsing around some popular London spots, including the Zoo, the Monument, Pall Mall and, er, Burger King. The "haystack-haired" trio overate, palled around with a very unconvincing pair of Charles and Di impersonators, picked out some ridiculously overpriced duds from an upscale fashion boutique on South Molton Street and enjoyed 75p slices of rich chocolate gateau, all of the Hits' dime (desserts AND clothing).

Possibly on the very next day (there's nothing to lead me to believe that the two pieces were done on consecutive days, I just like to think that's how it worked back then), Ellen flew off to America in order to interview Meat Loaf. Sitting down in his rock star lair in Connecticut, they discuss Meat's work ethic, the inspiration he provides to fans and his cash-flow troubles — despite receiving instructions before hand to under no circumstances ask His Nibs about money — before the county sheriff shows up in order to help repossess the Loaf family home. The plus-size star suddenly goes mental and is soon off in pursuit with a baseball bat in hand and murder in his eyes. (This anecdote is expounded upon in Ellen's autobiography Rock Stars Stole My Life! which I highly recommend)

The insanity of the preceding two features are sadly not hinted at in the Singles Review for that fortnight. Of course when your SOTF is a paean to suicide then one might be forgiven for dialling back on the craziness.

One of the clichés of suicide is the assumption of many that those who take their own lives are cowards. Facing a grim future, the theory goes, people are too afraid of whatever is in store for them and they ultimately decide to end it all as a result. It's a nice idea — and, to be sure, one I've not been above uttering myself — but it overlooks that the act of ending one's life takes a certain amount of bravery. How does one get to the precipice of existence and go through with it knowing that it'll all be over and there won't be any second chances?

Quite whether the protagonist in "View from a Bridge" ends up going through with offing herself is another matter. Songwriter, former pop star and patriarch Marty Wilde has offers up the following analysis:

"I don't know if any of you have ever travelled across the Forth Bridge, but if you have and you've ever stood in the middle of it when the mist is very low you will get more of a feeling of what the song is all about. That's how I pictured the song, a girl in the middle of the bridge, in a raincoat, jumping off and disappearing into the fog." 

But the lyrics indicate there may be more to the story. Building up to such a desperate moment, the crushed, heartbroken girl finally makes the leap, only to feel the tug of her ex-boyfriend's arms, who then, it transpires, turns out to be a "ghost without a face". Our Kim then admits that she doesn't know "what's fact or fantasy / Cause when I look below the bridge, the girl I see is me."

Confusing, then, but getting a grasp of suicide is something few who haven't been there have been able to explain. Marty Wilde's lyrics do his best to work it out and perhaps he has succeeded. Daughter Kim's delivery is also commendable, even if it's largely how she sang at the time; emoting probably wouldn't be the best way to convey the moment before (possibly) jumping. (In a review of the accompanying Select album, Elly McDonald considered her voice to be "amazingly vacant" which I initially took to be a compliment)

So there you have it: a day out with Bananarama, a Meat Loaf meltdown and high praise for Kim Wilde's single about suicide. They don't make top pop mags like this anymore.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Bardo: "One Step Further"

Kim Wilde's SOTF triumph would appear to be all the more impressive considering the big names who also put up singles for consideration. No less than seven artists or co-artists here have been inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame (In truth, however, that number really ought to be either five or nine, although you're invited to try to convince me exactly why Hall & Oates and Joan Jett & The Blackhearts belong while Olivia Newton-John and Simple Minds don't) and that's not even including other notables such as Spandau Ballet, Squeeze and Talk Talk. Some formidable names but it's not as if the likes of Bowie, Costello and McCartney/Wonder submitted some of their finest work here. Tedium reigns on the singles review page and a half and it's up to cheery Eurovisionist duo Bardo to pick up some of the slack. "One Step Further" is far from a brilliant number but it's a likable, hook-filled singalong which makes for a welcome change alongside all the more-of-the-same synth-pop and white boy funk. Blimey, am I getting tired of eighties music?

Depeche Mode: "See You"

21 January 1982

"If it doesn't make Number One, I'll write and complain."

— Mark Ellen

Letters

Smash Hits Letters

52-55 Carnaby Street

London W1V 1PF

£5 record token for the letter that delights us most.

~~~~~

LOUISE, WON'T you smile at me
Like you did in R.E.?

Miss Shaw spoke with scorn

And she looked quite forlorn

As she spoke of us writing our own private creed

(Mistaking me, perhaps, for the Venerable Bede),

You shot me a glance

And my heart did a dance

But ever since then you just look away

Even when we get to the end of the day.

You act as if you simply don't care

Of my heart, you just aren't aware

And that's why, Louise, I just have to speak

Because my will grows ever so weak

I swear I won't touch

I just like you so much.

And now all I want is to see you again,

Though I know not where or when.

Maybe it will be over half term break

When you're out for a stroll 'round Appleby Lake

Then you'll come round to mine on Galveston Road

And we'll play Altered Images and Depeche Mode

Maybe you'll even smile at me

Like you did in R.E.

Graham D., Cheltenham

You sure your Louise doesn't prefer other bands? Have a five quid record token to invest in something she actually likes. Failing that, your purchase could inspire yet more verse. Just some helpful advice from one lonely git to another.

~~~~~

WELL DONE, Mark Ellen. You had The Jam, Soft Cell, the Spands, even bloody Bow Wow Wow to choose from and you had to go for those talentless turds Depeche Mode. I'll admit that "Just Can't Get Enough" was nice but all the pop flash they had departed along with Vince Clarke. I can't believe you'd praise something so obviously dull and without merit. If they're light years ahead then I'd hate to see what's in the future. Thankfully they've had their last hit and we won't be hearing from them again. Mark my words.

Richard, Skegness

We'll hold you to that. Send us a crate of Skegness Rock to the address above if the Deps do manage to eek out another hit.

~~~~~

WELL DONE: Depeche Mode made the cover of the latest issue and you print a glowing review of their latest single, the wondrous "See You". I suppose I ought to be grateful that Smash Hits has finally decided to pay attention to Basildon's finest but I can't help but be overwhelmed by a sense of anticlimax. What took you so long?

Depeche Mode have been slowly gaining momentum over the past year and it has been disappointing that Smash Hits has mostly ignored them in favour of Haircut One Hundred and Toyah. What do they have that the Mode doesn't? Do third form students jot down Toyah lyrics in the margins of their notebooks in the middle of geography lessons? Do the Haircuts inspire a dreamscape of art and brilliant people and philosophy? I think not.

Hail Depeche Mode, the future of pop!

Nancy, Braintree

We imagine that Toyah and the Haircuts inspire a love of pop music, as do Depeche Mode. But our apologies nonetheless. The next time synth-noodlers from an English New Town emerge from the shadows we'll be right on them.

~~~~~

DID YOU know that if you rearrange the letters of 'Depeche Mode' you get 'Deedee chop me'?

Simon, Arundel

So what? Kim Wilde is an anagram for 'wide milk' and Duran Duran spells 'And and ru ru'. We're currently working on one for Dexys Midnight Runners. Suggestions to the address above.

~~~~~

I NOTICE that Mark Ellen still hasn't written in to complain that his beloved "See You" failed to hit Number One as he so confidently predicted it would. Does it rankle that the supposedly tune-free "Town Called Malice" has been dominating the charts instead? He couldn't even be bothered to mention its nearly as wonderful double A-side companion "Precious". If Depeche Mode (or any other group for that matter) want to get to the top of the charts, they'd be wise to put out a single when Paul, Bruce and Rick are otherwise occupied. Mr. Ellen should know better than to doubt The Jam.
Barry, Scunthorpe

Our boy Mark did indeed compose a letter complaint as promised but he sent it off to the folks who compile the charts. This space is reserved for the gripes of our beloved readers, our writers may do so elsewhere.