Scritti Politti featuring Shabba Ranks: "She's a Woman"

20 March 1991

"No, our Green merely wants to know where you purchased your happenin' threads from. That's because he's a trendy old so and so and when it comes to his music he's exactly the same."

— Marc Andrews

It was towards the end of 1964 that The Beatles returned with a new brand new album and a stand-alone single. I say 'returned' but it wasn't as if they had gone anywhere. They had only been profession recording artists by that point but they had already put out three best-selling LP's and seven hit singles. As if out to prove that they could be even more absurdly prolific, they also released a four track EP of brand new material — albeit not necessarily of the highest quality in that particular case. They also had been touring at a near non-stop rate and also found the time to make their first motion picture, A Hard Day's Night. Yes, the Fab Four kept themselves busy back then.

But burnout was beginning to show. On the cover of fourth album, the cynically-titled Beatles for Sale, they appear to be exhausted, fed up and, in John Lennon's case at least, possibly putting on some weight. While their output had been gradually improving over the previous eighteen months, the material inside suggested that they were slipping a bit. Predecessor (and masterpiece) A Hard Day's Night had been made up of all originals but the well had dried up so much that they were back to recording a series of dismal and/or unnecessary cover versions (except for "Rock and Roll Music" which is a banger). Their own material on it has its moments (why "Eight Days a Week" wasn't released as a single in the UK is anyone's guess) but the likes of "I Don't Want to Spoil the Party" and "What You're Doing" are among the most forgettable numbers in their repertoire.

As the great Ian MacDonald has said, A Hard Day's Night's closing track, "I'll Be Back", is a sign of coming maturity. Beatles for Sale acknowledges that changes are in the air but it hints that The Beatles aren't quite sure how to get there. They had only just met Bob Dylan and were only beginning to explore London's cultural scene but Lennon and, particularly, McCartney had remained tied to the juvenile boy-meets-girl, boy-falls-for-girl, boy-pines-for-girl formula that had made them wealthy. But musically they were beginning to stretch out, something that was apparent on their Christmas 1964 single. Lennon wrote the bulk of the A-side "I Feel Fine", which opens with the arresting sound of peeling guitar feedback. It's also punchier than normal and sets the stage for the metallic drone of "Ticket to Ride" and the outrageous riff fest "Day Tripper", both of which would come out the following year. On the flip was Paul McCartney's "She's a Woman", a rocksteady-ish shuffle that does nothing but clang all over the place. It's far from the most brilliant thing he ever thought up but it was a significant departure for Macca and it indicates that there may have been a lot more to him than all that sweetness and light.

The trouble with covering The Beatles is that their material is so familiar that it's almost impossible to forget their originals. Green Gartside avoided that particular hurdle when he chose a B-side that didn't make any of their UK albums and wasn't on many of the major compilations. This meant that it wasn't overly familiar with fans and this may have freed him up to alter a song by the sainted Beatles.

Looking at photos of Green, it's amazing how little he has aged over the years. He is currently sixty-seven years old but he could easily pass for fifteen years younger. Do a very simple bit of mental arithmetic and you'll deduce that he was in his mid-thirties when Scritti Politti released "She's a Woman", yet in its accompanying video he looks like he could have been in the same year at school with Chesney Hawkes, the dashing young pop figure who was just starting to ride high with the single "The One and Only". Dressing youthfully typically makes veteran pop types seem even older than they are but not so with Green. (This is all the more surprising when you consider how unwell he had been for the better part of a decade; it would seem that convalescing back home in deepest, darkest Wales had done him good)

An accomplished songwriter (there aren't many pop stars who get royalty checks for having their compositions on Miles Davis albums), it is perhaps a surprise to see him taking on a Lennon-McCartney tune. That said, his long-held interest in deconstructionism never took him in the direction of cover versions previously. That said, there isn't much in the way of channeling Derrida in a simple song with some poor lyrics (rhyming 'presents' and 'peasant' is bad enough but the lines they're used in don't even make sense) and minimal chord changes. That said, Green was right to explore its Jamaican roots. That said...oh, stop it!

Updated and with some samples that you don't hear everywhere — no small feat back in '91 — Scritti Politti gave "She's a Woman" a fresh coat of paint that it deserved. The old homophobe Shabba Ranks contributes some fine toasting that also aids in fleshing out such a frankly underwritten piece. Marc Andrews goes a bit overboard in his review, confident that it's as strong as vintage Scrit, but it's by no means a "Sweetest Girl" or a "Faithless" or a "Wood Beez". Strong and as solid as anything on 1988's Provision but still a clear step down from their very best work. Nevertheless, there are many worse things than a Green Gartside record even if it's a cover of a throwaway number.

It seems though that Green had been on something of a cover version kick in the early nineties. He had already hooked up with Martyn Ware for a revival of the B.E.F. brand on a remake of "I Don't Know Why I Love You (But I Love You)" (whose B-side happened to be a cover of The Beatles' "In My Life" sung by Billy Preston; it's not one of the better Fabs covers) and he would go on to do his take on Gladys Knight & The Pips' "Take Me in Your Arms and Love Me". Like Lennon and McCartney themselves at the end of '64, was he going through a bout of writer's block? Though he didn't look it, he was feeling the pressure of the pop life. "I don't feel well at all", Green tells William Shaw in Smash Hits, at a time when most would be milking the life out of a precious hit single. "I think I've got bronchitis". Notably, it wouldn't be long before he went on another health-related sabbatical from music before re-emerging in 1999. It would be nice to have him back again, if only for just a short time.

~~~~~

Also "Reviewed" This Fortnight

Morrissey: "Sing Your Life"

"Then again, please don't. Away and boil yer head, "Mozzer"": Andrews' thoughts on Morrissey's latest single in "full". I'm all for giving short shrift to racists with a victim complex but for the fact that there's nothing wrong with "Sing Your Life". 1991 was about where the rose was coming off the bloom since no one much cared for the Kill Uncle album but Morrissey was still pulling his weight as a singles act. Written with former Fairground Attraction guitarist Mark Nevin, it comes from a time when he could just dabble in light rockabilly rather than going full-on as he would a year later with the overrated Your Arsenal. Not particularly memorable and Moz is beginning to edge ever so close to self-parody but it's an engaging little toe-tapper and a whole lot better than anything else on offer this fortnight other than Scritti Politti.

Squeezebrain & The Machine featuring J.J. Jones: "Lovegroove"

25 January 1989

"In fact, it's a work of unparalleled genius."

— Tom Doyle

Back in my days as an undergraduate, I took a handful of music history classes as options. They were all taught by Victor Coelho, an urbane American who played lute recitals and was a passionate fan of The Rolling Stones. Quickly realising this was someone I could learn a lot from, I showed up early and stayed late for class just on the outside chance of having a chat with him. I took so many of these courses — I did four or five — that on the first day of one of them he came galavanting into the lecture theatre, spotted me and shook my hand. Coelho's teaching assistant for every one of these classes was a unkempt, balding guy called Paul, who I had previously known as my bass guitar instructor a few years' earlier.

At one point in the early part of 1998, they both asked me about the state of current music and if it was possible for groups to affect change the way people like The Beatles and Bob Dylan had back in the sixties. I had been occupying myself with discovering the works of Miles Davis and The Byrds at the time so I didn't have much of an idea but I chose to bluff rather than risk them going to some other young student for such information. I was still listening to some current stuff a year earlier so I dug out Radiohead's OK Computer and The Chemical Brothers' Dig Your Own Hole so they could sample a bit of the newish stuff. They both liked Radiohead but questioned the idea that the Oxford quintet were accomplishing anything particularly fresh, which they weren't wrong about, even if I didn't want to be told so at the time. The Chemical Brothers, however, were a non-starter for both them. "It's just that same old dance thing," Paul observed; I was confident that he didn't even manage to get past opening track "Block Rockin' Beats". (I never heard what, if anything, Coelho had to say about them but I wouldn't have been surprised if he ended up passing on them completely)

That same old dance thing. It's not unlike when old timers used to dismiss rock 'n' roll as 'noise'. Yet, what made the comment from an individual I liked and respected so irritating was that there was a ring of truth to it. Dance music can be samey and it's often better off whenever it is. Club DJ's play what will keep people on the dance floor, shifting up their setlist with clever choices isn't going to do so. When EDM came along this past decade (or was it earlier?) it smacked of a cynical corporate rebrand: this stuff was just techno under another name. The labels changed while the music remained much the same. There have always been innovators but your Goldies and your Roni Sizes tended to be listened to much more than played in that trendy club with that cute but surly coat check girl. That same old dance thing did well precisely because it was that same old dance thing.

There had been a time, however, when it was incumbent upon dance music boffins to craft something that might excite people as well. To make recordings that didn't rely upon cliches but which utilized "fresh" samples that had never been heard on a single before. One of the defining albums of 1989 was De La Soul's 3 Feet High and Rising, a radical take on hip hop with flower power imagery, playful verses and raps that were accessible to those of us who weren't quite ready for the likes of Public Enemy and NWA. It was also awash in sampling and not just from that James Brown "Funky Drummer" bit and those all-too-common "ooh's" and "ah's" you hear from early house and rap. There was even the hint that De La Soul were fans of all kinds of music. Soon enough this approach would be adopted by Saint Etienne and then it all came to be associated with irony but there's every indication sampling would have gone that way without them.

Indeed, "Lovegroove" could almost have been an early Saint Etienne recording. There are plenty of chugging guitar samples, the various sources used to cobble it together come from all over the place and it's mercifully free of the usual suspects that house DJ's relied upon. Again, like De La Soul and Bob Stanley and Pete Wiggs, James Brett and Richard Symons of Squeezebrain & The Machine are clearly music obsessed rather than just mad for that same old dance thing. But their catholocism meant that "Lovegroove" was an island and it wasn't able to communicate with other dance records that "know you gonna dig this" while they "pump up the volume". Dance music had that trajectory of familiar samples and there wasn't room for a record that spoke in a parlance free of common syntax.

Acid house had been the culturally dominant type of dance music in 1988 but the new year brought about a desire to move on. An acid house mentally remained as rave culture continued to thrive and the 'Madchester' groups grew in popularity but there was little interest in recreating "Stakker Humanoid". Perhaps with this in mind, a more easy going dance music began to take hold, while pop groups like Pet Shop Boys, The Style Council and The Blow Monkeys started to dabble in deep house. Within this landscape, an active but chilled out "Lovegroove" should have found a home — and it may well have found one had it come out closer to the summer when nouveau hippie chic was peaking.

Squeezebrain & The Machine was a short-lived project and, in spite of Tom Doyle's best efforts, "Lovegroove" failed to get much attention in the early part of the year. A fortnight earlier, Nick Heyward had been jobbed out of a hit with the wonderful "Tell Me Why" but this track's lack of success is much easier to explain. It could easily have done well but it isn't a crime that didn't. I can't bring myself to get nearly as thrilled by it as Doyle but I appreciate the effort. J.J. Jones has a wonderfully elastic voice but she lacks the flirtatious playfulness of Yazz or Lisa Stansfield and probably isn't on the same eclectic page as Brett or Symons. (I've long suspected that the tastes of Saint Etienne's Sarah Cracknell are as diverse as Stanley and Wiggs)

This is the second straight non-charting single to get a Single of the Fortnight but a January of flops would give way to a lengthy and unprecedented streak of hit singles recommended by Smash Hits critics and guest pop star reviewers. For the next thirteen issues, the SOTF would belong exclusively to relevant chart acts. And they're a diverse bunch and represent several different genres: pop, rock, hip hop and even that same old dance thing.

~~~~~

Also of some cop

Morrissey: "The Last of the Famous International Playboys"

A third glorious solo hit on the bounce for Moz, even if its Top 40 "run" of 6, 8 and 21 was worringly suggestive of a record only his fans were purchasing. ("The Last of the Famous International Playboys" had such a brief lifespan that it passed me by completely since I was on a ferry to Ireland while he was performing it on Top of the Pops) It may not have sold any newbies on Morrissey but it's a phenomenal record and one that give no indication that a rot would soon begin to set in. The Smiths were supposedly a thing of the past, yet here was his nibs being backed by Andy Rourke, Mike Joyce and unofficial fifth member Craig Gannon just to remind everyone of what might have been — something he's continued to unknowingly jog the collective memory of ever since.

Maxi Priest: "Wild World"

1 June 1988

"We're a band who has always written our own material and now we've had a number one with a song written by someone else."

— Brinsley

"It lends itself to reggae perfectly."

— Drummie

"..."

— Tony

Reggae covers of old pop hits are rarely as simple as they seem. While you might assume that a group or artist hears the original and decides to make it sound Jamaican, these tracks tend to have lengthy histories of being given the tropical treatment. UB40's famed rendition of Neil Diamond's "Red Red Wine" actually used a version by Tony Tribe from 1969 as its source material, with the band unaware of it previously being a much more conventional MOR pop song when they came to record it in 1983. Boy George's chart topping comeback single "Everything I Own" had first been done in timid fashion by American band Bread; the ex-Culture Club singer instead based his cover on the UK number one by Ken Boothe, which was much more in the style of reggae. Even this fortnight's singles reviewers, Aswad, had a roll in this trajectory: their big hit "Don't Turn Around" had originally been recorded by Tina Turner but the 1994 cover by Swedes Ace of Base is much more in line with the Brit-Reggae threesome.

"Wild World" was written by Cat Stevens and appeared on his hugely popular and influential Tea for the Tillerman album. Not released as a single in Britain, it got some Jamaican spices added to it when Jimmy Cliff took it to the Top 10 at the end of 1970. Not a full-on reggae number, mind you, but one that bridges that opened the door for it. It took a little while but eventually Maxi Priest arrived with a bouncy and summery take on the song, if not quite out of Kingston then certainly from the multicultural Lewisham district of London where the singer grew up.

Released on the cusp of a lovely summer (well, it certainly was in Canada where I was at the time; the Britain we arrived in that August wasn't quite as pleasant), "Wild World" wound up coming in between two controversies, one relatively minor, the other with a significance that is still remembered to this day. They didn't impact Priest's single as such but they are worth mentioning, if only to emphasise the power pop has to create demons while also encouraging us to let them go.

In the middle of 1987, the Pet Shop Boys were returning from the studio with some new material. They had had four hit singles the previous year and looked to build on their success with another batch of 45's. After some debate over whether they should release "Heart" first, they eventually settled on the grand hi-NRG spectacle of "It's a Sin". A song about being manipulated by Catholic guilt, it drew the ire of the administration of Neil Tennant's old comprehensive school in Newcastle but the song resonated with enough people to give them their second number one. Not content with all the myriad sins mentioned in the lyrics, media figure Jonathon King pointed out that it sounded an awful lot like this record from the seventies called "Wild World".

To be fair to the pariah and sex offender, he wasn't alone. Tom Hibbert had been one of Tennant colleagues at ver Hits but this didn't stop him from finding similarities as well — and this likely would have been prior King's allegations begin published. Of course, Hibbs didn't go too far. He claims it's uncannily similar "to the note" but he isn't interested in condemning the Pet Shop Boys for it. If anything, he's complimentary of them borrowing such a "very nice tune". And he doesn't use the P word. King, on the other hand, alleged that they stole it from Stevens (who said he didn't mind; the old troubadour may have had other things on his mind around this time, as we'll soon see) and, in order to make his case, he even recorded a cover of "Wild World" done with the production techniques of "It's a Sin". The single flopped and the Pet Shop Boys promptly sued King but this still didn't stop Chris Lowe from buying a copy because he liked it.

Priest could've run with the controversy but didn't. Had "Wild World" been released as the first single off third album Maxi, it would have come in closer to the Jonathon King debacle. Instead, he put out a decent cover of "Some Guys Have All the Luck", which gave him his first Top 20 hit, and followed that with the forgettable — assuming you've ever heard it — "How Can We Ease the Pain?", which flopped. By June of '88, the situation had blown over. Aswad don't even bother to mention it in their review.

Had all this come about a year later, however, it's likely that "Wild World" would never have seen a single release at all. The news in early 1989 had been dominated by the fatwa issued by Ayatollah Khomeini of Iran against Salman Rushie for the alleged blasphemy in his novel The Satanic Verses. Unwisely deciding not to remain silent on the matter, Yusef Islam (aka Cat Stevens' name since becoming a Muslim) wound up in the middle of the situation. He now claims he wasn't prepared for the media firestorm that would erupt but that seems strangely naive of a one-time globally popular singer-songwriter. He made inflammatory statements that he soon tried to explain away as jokes and when he speaks on the matter today he tries to be more rational but always manages to slide in a reference to the offence Rushdie "caused".

The Rushdie Affair, as it has come to be known, understandably didn't have a huge impact on music, Yusuf still being a long way off from reviving his recording career. In protest, however, 10,000 Maniacs had their cover of "Peace Train" deleted from subsequent pressings of their album In My Tribe. Stevens' old music did get taken off of radio stations for a time as well. But Priest never disavowed his cover of "Wild World" and I hope he remains proud of it to this day.

It probably helps that it bears little resemblance to the original. With Jimmy Cliff's version dipping its toe in reggae, Priest's is unabashed sunshine reggae-pop. There's nothing tricky about it and sounds just as you would imagine. More importantly, the hidden misogyny of the Stevens recording is missing here. There's a despicable passive-aggressiveness at the heart of this song, like a pathetic teenage boy threatening the girl that has broken his heart that she will "regret it". If you want to leave, the song's narrative goes, there's the door but there's a lot more to life than pretty dresses and cute smiles and you're going to learn some painful lessons without me. Yes, it's something guys say (I'm ashamed to say that I've said some stuff along those lines, if much more crudely put) and perhaps Stevens was right to put these emotions into song but it doesn't make him look especially good. It wasn't a black eye the way the Rushdie affair had been but it should have dulled notions that he was a sensitive soul.

Priest, by contrast, sings it with a lot more joy in his voice. He doesn't sound heartbroken in the least. He may have misread its meaning but that probably works in his favour. (Not to be confused with whoever transcribed the lyrics for Smash Hits; though I could be wrong, I don't think it's "but just remember there's a lot of bad air beware" but "...a lot of bad everywhere") He doesn't sound like his woman has mistreated him, nor does he sound like he's wishing grave misfortune to her either. It sounds like he's singing a song to the best of his abilities. Sometimes simple is best.

Finally, a small thing about the video. I imagine a lot of people watching it now will laugh at the cut up graphics but this has always been one of my favourite promos. A throwback to a time when videos could capture young people as readily as the songs themselves. "Wild World" is still a great single either way but its video gives it that little something extra.

~~~~~

Also of some cop

Morrissey: "Everyday Is Like Sunday"

"It doesn't sit on my street," admits a mostly-silent Tony from Aswad. That's generally how I feel about the bulk of Moz's solo work but "Everyday Is Like Sunday" sits perfectly well on any street, drive, road, boulevard or muse that I happen to be on. They suggest he speaks to disaffected youth (especially young people who can't sing, the trio reckon; of all the things wrong with Morrissey, his vocals are not one of them) and that's true but little would they know how loyal many of these youngsters would remain well into middle age and beyond. Like "Wild World", it's helped along by a good video that manages to make seaside towns look miserable while nevertheless making me want to visit one soon. A great song about monotony that transcends those dreary Sunday afternoons when there's nothing to do. Oh, you were once so great, Morrissey.

Sting: "Englishman in New York"

10 February 1988

"I knew this would be single of the fortnight the moment I saw this."

— Patsy Kensit

A bit of a "swizz" this fortnight as Patsy Kensit chose to abuse her position as guest critic by sneaking a record that isn't eligible in to be her Single of the Fortnight. This is pointed out by Smash Hits editors but the actress/singer/giant diva batted her eyes and got her way — or this is how I imagine it occurring. Granted, I was just eleven back in 1988 but if Patsy Kensit was going to sneak a usurper into the batch of new releases, I wouldn't have been the one to stop her.

Oddly, though, if you didn't know any better, you might not necessarily assume "Englishman in New York" to be her favourite. Sure, she likes Sting a lot more than anyone else here (I get the feeling she likes Sting a lot more than anyone else in the entire history of mankind) but the record itself? I'm not so sure. The fact that she decided it was going to be her favourite before she even listened to it says it all and her praise for the single is positive but not overwhelmingly so. The bulk of her relatively lengthy review is saved for her admiration for Sting and to fill the readers in on the song's subject matter, the transplanted gadabout with a craving for the spotlight Quentin Crisp. Otherwise, Kensit loves it because it's by Sting and she even asks the good people at Smash Hits if they would be able to arrange a meeting. (I wonder if they ever did meet; how would Sting have taken it when she told him that she loves his songs because he made them?)

Of course, the record had already been reviewed so we also have the observations of Tom Hibbert from four weeks' earlier to go by. Sadly, he doesn't offer much either, find it a boring single and giving off vibes that it's been a good while since he had much regard for the Stinger. But this is Hibs and he still has a surprise for the reader: mentioning that its first verse is about "how awful it is for English folk to partake of an American breakfast", he goes on to admit that the Yanks "do bacon much more crispily and tastily than anything we can expect in a cafe over here". And there I was thinking that a cornerstone of being British is pretending to love that sad item that the Americans call "Canadian bacon" (which no one in Canada actually consumes). 

The British have been transplanting themselves to the United States for centuries. It isn't the most radical cultural divide people have crossed although you'd never know it by the way they describe being a fish out of water in the New World. That's what we have at the beginning of "Englishman in New York" ("I don't take coffee, I take tea my dear...": one line in and there's so much to unpack; do the English 'take' their hot drinks rather than 'drink' them? It's better to address a waitress as 'dear' rather than 'sweetheart', right?); as it moves forward, it's about feeling accepted in a place we may not belong. Crisp had made his name as a raconteur but it always bothered him that his homosexuality had never been accepted in his homeland (strange it irked him so much considering he would one day speak out against gay rights); his fondness for makeup and his flamboyance were peculiarities that New Yorkers made note of but he was content that people seemed to like him for who he was. While Sting celebrates this side of Gotham, it is worth noting that John Lennon was extolling that virtues of the city that left him alone just two days before a psychopath shot him dead. The Korean-born writer and artist Theresa Hak Kyung Cha was raped and murdered in New York just a week after her extraordinary memoir Dictee had been published. Pie-eyed outsiders who ❤ NY seldom consider the city's dark side.

Kensit expresses displeasure that Sting's previous single ("We'll Be Together") failed to be a hit single but at least she was prepared for this one to do even worse. The bulk of Sting's post-Police 45's were flops even as his albums still did well. Current release ...Nothing Like the Sun had been a chart topper in the autumn of 1987 despite failing to produce a single top 40 hit. Fans of his who may have bought "Message in a Bottle" or "Walking on the Moon" back in the day were now getting older and, assuming they were still sticking around, were probably more inclined towards a Sting long player than one of his singles, while the kids probably weren't interested in such stuff. This trend would largely continue with even the surefire megahit "Fields of Gold" from 1993's Ten Summoner's Tales only seeing modest top 20 action. It was only when he descended into film soundtrack hell with the abominable "All for Love" with Bryan Adams and Rod Stewart that his British chart fortunes were revived.

Nevertheless, "Englishman in New York" would eventually find its way into the UK charts after Dutch DJ Ben Liebrand remixed it in 1990. Songs revamped by boffins usually lose some of their original spark but the Dutch producer actually made this record better, adding next to no sampled cliches and pushing Branford Marsalis' soprano sax to the background where it belongs. The track lends itself to remixing, especially at 2:34 when the jazz instrumental jazz ("the kind of thing stuck over the slapstick passages of some Woody Allen "movie"", reckons Hibs) gives way to a percussion breakdown, which Liebrand chose to open his version. It isn't hugely different but the little things are improved upon and that's what makes it the preferred record.

This spruced up "Englishman" came out a few months' ahead of Sting's follow up album The Soul Cages and it might be a song that fits in better with his more expressive works in the nineties. Finally free from trying to solve the world's problems in song (not always a bad thing, mind you), Gordon Sumner became a much more soulful songwriter as his forties approached. His work was still hit-and-miss but "All This Time" and "Shape of My Heart" and, yes, "Fields of Gold" are some of the finest songs he's ever written. Sting would claim that "Englishman" had been half about Crisp and half about himself and this was a step in the right direction: it wouldn't be long and he'd be writing all about himself — at least some of the time.

~~~~~

Also of some cop

Morrissey: "Suedehead"

Possibly the rightful SOTF — or it certainly would be if I had had anything to say about it. Morrissey hasn't been particularly relevant this century and his solo career has been extremely spotty but his debut post-Smiths effort is still a blinder, a (misplaced) sign that he didn't need his old band. In fact, his first three singles rival anything The Smiths did and his first solo album was pretty good too. Obviously, they could have recorded a song like "Suedehead" but it's all the more important that he did it himself (along with some not untalented people he chose to work with). Sting went solo in the mid-eighties and did pretty well for himself but he could never quite shake The Police; Moz looked to be swiftly ridding himself of the Johnny Marr shackles as his old band was being left behind. It could never last.

Duran Duran: "The Wild Boys"

25 October 1984

"But please, boys, don't make a video."

— Morrissey

"I'd sooner fry an egg than make a video."
— Morrissey

Two Morrissey quotes, one from his stint in the singles review chair (labelled 'Morrissey does his bit' in very childish printing just below a picture of the man himself), another from a point that I am unable to source — though it certainly must have been stated prior to the release of the video for "Girlfriend in a Coma", the first time he did a promo that he seems to have been involved in. When he's not going all hard right (which is increasingly rare), Moz is good copy. Whether he's lambasting Band Aid ("One can have great concern for the people of Ethiopia, but it's another thing to inflict daily torture on the people of England"), being baffled by the appeal of Samantha Fox ("...I throw everything up in the air and say, 'the world is slightly derailed'.") or describing — not inaccurately — his fans ("people who wear heavy overcoats and stare at broken light bulbs"), there's always a good Morrissey quip. Sometimes funny, occasionally perceptive, often reprehensible, always negative.

This being Morrissey, I'm amazed that he didn't find some irrational excuse to despise Duran Duran's latest record. Four pretty boys (and Andy Taylor) coasting on their status as pinups would seem to be fodder for the curmudgeonly Mancunian's ire. But, then, they're just a bunch of pretty boys and aren't a threat to him. He isn't looking for musical authenticity (the man did a Twinkle cover for god's sake) and has a long-held admiration for fashionable, iconic faces. Plus, "The Wild Boys" as a song title alone must have appealed to him. He may have thumbed his nose at the likes of "Rio" and "Hungry Like the Wolf" (though I have no way of knowing either way) with their exoticism and carnality but not a song that taps into a Lord of the Flies homoeroticism (even they've got "sirens for a welcome"). I can't say that I agree with Moz's take on Simon Le Bon's performance ("Fine fiery vocals"? Not, "workmanlike singer struggling mightily to hit notes well past his limited range"?) but single is decent, not among their finest work but not a giant howler either. No one else rates "The Wild Boys" as their favourite Duran Duran song, do they?

Still, Morrissey did find the time to knock their mastery of the pop video, hoping against hope that they'd opt not to bother this time round. Hard cheese, Moz. Having previously stated that a "drunken goat" could have directed one of their videos, it's likely that their promos were spoiling Duran Duran for him. It would, thus, be interesting to see if his opinion would have altered had a naughty Smash Hits staff member managed to procure a copy of "The Wild Boys" vid and shown it to him. Gone are the yachts, replaced with a bad dream scenario of monsters coming out of swimming pools and attacking people or something. Though acclaimed by some at the time, this had to be their first promo which failed to capture the public's imagination. This meant little to Morrissey either way but I suspect he would have opted for Prefab Sprout (the rightful SOTF) or XTC or Lloyd Cole instead. For spite.

Not wanting to focus on the Duranies, I've decided to include a special analysis of every record Morrissey reviewed this fortnight.

Hazell Dean: "Back in My Arms"
Morrissey's 'Vilest Single Of The Fortnight' is trivialized a bit by describing the vocalist as a "creature" and imploring the "boys" to "stretch her on the rack". Value judgement as criticism. Song isn't much cop though.

Chaka Khan: "I Feel for You"
A "clever" record which probably means that his nibs liked it a lot more than he'd care to admit. Doesn't appreciate that it's composed by "romping travesty" Prince though my only complaint towards this otherwise brilliant single is that it's not called "I Feel 4 U": since when did the Purple Perv refrain from abbreviation?

Nick Heyward: "Warning Sign"
Moz gets this one exactly right with Nick wasting his many talents on lame American r & b. Stopped clocks, etc., etc.

The Redskins: "Keep on Keepin' On"
Does Morrissey actually like this one? They should be "canonized"? You wish them to be dead and then given their due? Harsh.

Miami Sound Machine: "Prisoner of Love"
A good line here about "stealthy eroticism which makes a life of religion madly attractive" but, sadly, inaccurate. Gloria Estefan has probably the least sexy voice in the history of pop and, if anything, it's closer to "forced eroticism". But, yeah, the song is balls.

Shriekback: "Mercy Dash (Ready for This)"
Perhaps a case of 'unspectacular record = bland review'. Could my tastes refrain from dovetailing with his?

Modern Romance: "Move On"
There are indeed worse human beings than Morrissey. But can anyone seriously think of one? (But, again, he's right)

Status Quo: "The Wanderer"
On a bitchiness roll, Moz gets to ver Quo, probably the group least likely to titillate Morrissey in any way and on any level. Right on the money.

Lionel Richie: "Penny Lover"
Not one of the high points of Lionel's eighties, granted, but Moz gets riled up far too much here, blaming the record on an "unholy amount of human misery". I suspect he'd say much the same about "Easy" and "All Night Long" and "Say You Say Me" which just means he's dead inside. But we all knew that already, right?

XTC: "This World Over"
See below.

Bucks Fizz: "Golden Days"
The low-hanging fruit so I won't castigate myself too much here for agreeing with Moz.

Tracey Ullman: "Helpless"
Or, as Moz calls it, "Hopeless". Hard to argue with him there.

The Psychedelic Furs: "Heartbeat"
American influence really irks this future resident of Los Angeles.

David Sylvian: "Pulling Punches"
Unable to enjoy depressing tunes, Morrissey isn't able to fathom the appeal of David Sylvian. Yeah, it sucks to have pop stars foisting their misery upon the public, doesn't it?

Ultravox: "Love's Great Adventure"
Not a favourite of Moz but I would've expected a great deal more irrational bile reserved for Midge Ure and his slicked back hair and bum fluff moustache and weedy tunes. Instead, he expects a revolution from the great pop chancer. Did he change his tune a year later following Band Aid and Live Aid, perchance?

Level 42: "The Chant Has Just Begun"
You have to be plenty drunk to enjoy a Level 42 record, you know. And there I was thinking you had to be a great big muso, much more interested in solos than pop songs. Thanks for clearing that up, Steven.

Cyndi Lauper: "All Through the Night"
Morrissey doesn't think Cyndi Lauper is much cop. Because of course he doesn't.

Lloyd Cole & The Commotions: "Rattlesnakes"
America has gotten to "Cousin Lloyd" too and that just won't do. I have nothing to base this on but I foresee the wheels coming off that friendship pretty sharpish. Just a hunch. Cousin Lloyd is probably better off.

Prefab Sprout: "When Love Breaks Down"
"A dirty great big fat hit"? Did Morrissey even listen to the bloody thing? Not "beautifully crafted poignant pop"? Not a "lush, bittersweet kitchen sink drama that I cannot stop playing"? I'd settle for "more spineless than an especially timid earthworm" if he hadn't cared for it.

Force MDs: "Forgive Me Girl"
A case can be made that 'bitter, spiteful Morrissey' is preferable to 'apathetic, bored Morrissey'. On the other hand, I'll take a 'reclusive, sitting on his millions, prone to cancelling concerts at the last minute Morrissey' any time over the 'Guardian-bashing, Tommy Robinson-supporting crotchety old git Morrissey' that we've sadly become all-too familiar with lately.

Scritti Politti: "Hypnotize"
Overlooking the negative things Green Gartside had to say about The Smiths (though, he still felt the need to bring it up), Moz acts as the bigger man and praises their latest record. Can't figure out if his quip about the singer having "finally mastered his Deanna Durbin impression" is a shot or not. Probably both.

Alphaville: "Forever Young"
Had Morrissey drowned the members of Alphaville at birth then he probably would have gone to jail and we would have been spared (a) some great records, (b) lots of mediocre records and (c) having to care about the claptrap that comes pissing out of the mouth of Steven Patrick Morrissey. An upside, with all due respect to Alphaville.

Siouxsie & The Banshees: The Thorn
An odd one. Morrissey likes the fact that this EP is good value for money but doesn't think much of the songs. Not particularly good value then, is it? Still, it's sort of nice that he didn't save all his vitriol for those he wishes dead and buried.

Of the twenty-four records he reviewed, sixteen he disliked or despised. (Correct that: sixteen he despised; the man doesn't do things by halves, as they say) Not being one to be content with just liking a song, he also managed to eek in some harsh words in five additional singles he actually liked, including the supposed 'Bestest Single Of The Fortnight'. That leaves us with three that he didn't feel the need to slag off in any way. Except for a suspiciously-worded review of one entrant that leads me to suspect he didn't listen to it at all and one that could be inferred as being underhand praise. Which leaves one bloody record that pleased this grumpy old crow. And, yet, I seem surprised. All it took was making a video or having a duff record or not approving of said act or not having been aborted at birth brought out his hate. You'd like for him to refrain but then he just wouldn't be Morrissey, would he?

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

XTC: "This World Over"

The only record on offer that Morrissey has nothing but good things to say about. Now well into their residency in the dumper, Andy Partridge was under strain from Virgin Records to come up with something more commercial. Being as bullheaded as Morrissey, XTC's leader is having none of it and, instead, delivers a challenging and, in some places, unlistenable LP The Big Express. Happily, the singles are top notch and none better than "This World Over". Moz doesn't seem aware of how insanely erratic Swindon's finest could be which likely saved them from his scorn. Dealing with nuclear war fallout, the song seems just as relevant today with the imminent threat of climate change hanging over us all. Not that any of this matters to Morrissey: I'm sure in his mind the world has already ended ever since his critics began "silencing" him. You'd think he'd be better equipped at taking it, huh?