Erasure: "Ship of Fools"

9 March 1988

"Oh what a joy it is to hear a record that isn't taken over by twittering synthesizers, pumping bass lines and drum beats ten to the dozen, especially when it comes from Erasure who've built their reputation making infectious dance music from those very ingredients."

— Ro Newton

Between Blancmange, The Communards, Depeche Mode, The Human League, Pet Shop Boys, Propaganda, Sharpe & Numan, Sparks and Yazoo, this blog has covered many synth-heavy bands (with The Associates, Eurythmics and It's Immaterial being not so far off from this realm either). It hardly needs stating that synthesizers were everywhere throughout the eighties though a subtle backlash would begin as the decade began to wane. This would never result in a full-scale destruction of the sub-genre but synth-pop's glory days were just about at an end. 1990 and '91 would mark its final high point with the outstanding albums Violator, Behaviour, Electronic, Chorus and Sugar Tax. I miss those days...

Erasure would be the last major synth act to emerge. Vince Clarke had been a founding member of Depeche Mode and had been their main songwriter, composing early hits "New Life" and "Just Can't Get Enough". There have been many reasons given for his sudden departure but if he did indeed chafe at the promotional obligations of pop it didn't stop him from quickly forming his first synth duo Yazoo with Alison Moyet. (The year I spent in the UK, we resided in Basildon, an English new town noted only for being one of the worst places in the country and the home of some pretty pop stars) He had been done with ver Mode after just one album but he managed to cut two LP's with this new unit. Again, Clarke proved his worth as a top songwriter, this time being behind hits "Only You" and "Don't Go", among others. He and Moyet went their separate ways and he dithered a bit, appearing on Blancmange side-project West India Company with their inter-faith seasonal mantra-pop "Ave Maria" and then forming The Assembly, a "group" that consisted of himself, associate Eric Radcliffe and a succession of lead singers.

With so many projects that started promisingly before fizzling out, it's remarkable that he finally found himself a partner worth sticking it out with. As opposed to Yazoo and The Assembly, Erasure struggled at first, their early singles falling way short of the hit parade. And this was by no means the public being a bunch of ignoramuses: singles like "Who Needs Love Like That" and "Heavenly Action" are nothing special, a far cry from the likes of "Just Can't Get Enough" and "Only You". A significant change that occurred at this point was that Clarke was co-writing with vocalist Andy Bell and the pair needed time to work things out. "Sometimes" was their breakthrough single and would be Clarke's biggest hit to date but it still isn't quite classic synth-pop. Were Erasure ever going to be anything more than the Pet Shop Boys without a sense of humour?

The group's seriousness is something I often cite that held them back but I've come to realise recently that it's a rather unfair judgement. With a voice like Bell's, how could Erasure pull off humour and wit? He has a gorgeous voice but one that always sounds so deeply committed to whatever it is he's singing about. (As if to compensate, they sometimes filmed lighthearted videos which never fooled me) If the Pet Shops did irony, then Erasure specialised in painful sincerity. Then again, more often than not I bought what they were selling (spiritually speaking anyway, I didn't actually purchase anything by them until the excellent compilation Pop! The First 20 Hits in 1992). Their singles got better and better so what did it matter if they were about as joyous as a bucket of old rags?

Increased quality control of Erasure's records meant that their chart fortunes grew along the way. Their second album The Circus is a marked improvement on debut Wonderland and both "Sometimes" and "Victim of Love" were pretty good singles. The album's title track was the fourth and final 45 released from it and it pointed the way forward for the group. A departure from their usual buoyant pop, it's a downbeat number that is more musically ambitious and can be slotted into the category of anti-Thatcher songs that the likes of Billy Bragg, The Style Council, The The and, yes, Pet Shop Boys were also churning out at around this time. With this one song, they were already proving themselves to be more capable of political pop than The Communards even if the record itself doesn't quite work. The tune is a bit repetitive and I'm not sure just what makes all this a circus but they were on to something. (It hardly needs saying that it fails in comparison with The Beatles' masterful "Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite" in terms of big top pop)

A year later and they were back (Back!) and they had picked up where they left off. "Ship of Fools" would an unconventional teaser single from their third album The Innocents, released a month later. "Chains of Love" and "A Little Respect" would have been more logical choices (even deep cuts like "Phantom Bride" and "Yahoo!" would have made more sense). As Chris Heath says in his review of the album, it's the only slow track on an LP packed with potential hits. But they boldly went with something similarly glum as "The Circus" — only much better. (Notably, it was the only one of their singles from The Innocents not to be a hit in the US)

On paper, however, it doesn't look like much. My sister and I spent a long train journey from London to Edinburgh at the start of the October midterm break looking at the latest issue of ver Hits, which included lyrics to all the tracks from the latest compilation Smash Hits Party 1988. We knew or knew of many of the groups but most of the songs had been and gone from the charts prior to our arrival in Britain that August. Thus, we attempted to work out how the songs would go based purely on looking at the lyrics. Two songs made us laugh because they both seemed so stupid. One was "The King of Rock 'n' Roll" by Prefab Sprout (much as I love Paddy McAloon, we weren't wrong on that one) and "Ship of Fools" was the other.

To this day, I still don't know who this "baby of the class" is supposed to be or why him not knowing "one and one was two" matters. I guess it's about losing a child in some sort of nasty fashion. Recalling The Smiths and their controversial closing track from their debut album ("Suffer Little Children"), it's natural to conclude that it's dealing with abduction and/or murder. Things get a bit cloudier with the line "why can't you see what you're doing to me": is he addressing the child because he can't suddenly be trying to communicate with the criminal. Something is missing but in a way that's what makes the song's sorrow so convincing. I was a very unreliable journal keeper as a teen (I don't even bother to try now) but when I did jot down my thoughts about heartbreak and angst, they were hardly coherent. The words are scattered and it's as if Bell is in the midst of processing his thoughts in song.

Meaningful or gibberish: either way, the lyrics work as presented. It helps that the tune that accompanies it is one of Clarke's finest. It is a huge step beyond "The Circus", subtler and more refined. Not drenched in synths, no, but they're still there in service to the song. Clarke's background as a techno-pop henchman meant that he had years of experience knowing what works for various vocalists came in handy. Bell's voice is lush enough so that the music and production is gentle and only a bit haunting.

Reviewer Ro Newton never seemed like your typical pop-kid-turned-Smash-Hits-writer. As I have previously written, she had been a host of the Whistle Test and you can detect a fondness for more guitar-based music in previous singles reviews. (That said, she also once gave a Single of the Fortnight to Michael Jackson and has praise in this singles review page for Debbie Gibson — see below — so she was no rockist either) She doesn't try to hide her derision for the "twittering synthesizers" and the rest and seems genuinely surprised by this new direction. It's possible that she hadn't been following Erasure closely or she may have noted Clarke's occasional use of an acoustic guitar on tracks like "Victim of Love" or that "The Circus" signalled a change in direction. Nevertheless, she's absolutely right about just how wonderful "Ship of Fools" is. They had done fine work before but this was their first great moment where everything fell perfectly into place.

Erasure's move towards more serious subject matter didn't always work and it's fortunate that they never gave up on ecstatic pop along the way. But for an earnest singer and a grumpy-looking keyboardist/guitarist, it makes sense that they would embrace a darker side. Sheer joy just wasn't their bag and we'll see very soon just what a moody pair they could be when it came to the task of evaluating other pop groups and their synth-friendly or synth-free singles. Stay tuned.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Debbie Gibson: "Only in My Dreams"

They called her a "Mall Madonna" (though you'd think this would have been a better moniker for Tiffany given her penchant for performing in mall food courts all over the States) but Debbie Gibson was a very talented young woman back in the day. Like her nibs, she doesn't have the strongest voice in the world but there's character in that nasally tone. Truthfully, she was probably a better songwriter than the Material Girl and it was this quality that likely made everyone think she'd be around for a while. Still, it was a good ride while it lasted and she made some money and some of the songs were quite good, especially at first. I always preferred "Out of the Blue" myself and "Foolish Beat" has aged surprisingly well but "Only in My Dreams" is decent too. Her future seemed bright but she got serious too fast and couldn't pull it off as well as Erasure.

Michael Jackson: "I Just Can't Stop Loving You"

29 July 1987

"P.S. There's 12" version and no video whatsoever — i.e. he's still mad!"

— Ro Newton

The video for the Michael Jackson single "Bad" premiered on August 31, 1987 on an MTV special. Being from Canada, we had MuchMusic, which didn't have much crossover with the more well-known music station south of the border, and the video didn't air until later. When, I'm not sure but it wouldn't have been long after. It seemed like a big deal and so I sat down and watched all eighteen minutes of it. I wasn't the biggest fan of Jackson but I did recall how the promo for "Thriller" had been such an important event that I nevertheless passed me by four years earlier and I wasn't about to miss this second coming of a cultural wave.

As I say, I wasn't a big MJ fan but he was too big to ignore, especially back in that era. Huge as he had been in the early eighties, his world tour and Moonwalker film seemed to make him seem even more of a megastar. The fact that the new LP wasn't selling as well and its accompanying singles weren't charting as high seemed like just an afterthought. Just as he had with Thriller, he released an absurd number of singles from his latest album that stretch in my mind from "Bad" in the autumn of '87 all the way to "Liberian Girl" in the summer of '89. It comes as something of a surprise, then, to discover that there was an earlier record intended as a taster for the new LP. Nine singles spread over two years as he milked it for all he could.

It's easy to forget about "I Just Can't Stop Loving You". As Ro Newton says, Jackson didn't bother with a video, a practice that was still happening at the time but one that was surprising coming from a man who did groundbreaking promos for "Billie Jean" and "Thriller". It also had a fairly brief chart stay, as Bad's title track quickly took over. I'm not sure a lack of a 12" mix mattered much in the scheme of things, what with it hardly being dance record, but for certain it was a low key release, edging Jackson gradually back into the spotlight. Given that he initially had Barbra Streisand and Whitney Houston penciled in to duet with him, it may not necessarily have been intended to get the Bad ball rolling in this fashion; had either of them agreed to appear on it, it's easy to imagine "Another Part of Me" getting the nod as the opening single instead; "I Just Can't Stop Loving You" would've had a video to go with it and fans would remember it much more fondly.

Michael Jackson was capable of many things but one thing he could never really pull off was slow songs. Okay, I might give him "I'll Be There" back when he was just a lad in the Jackson 5 and, in a pinch, "Ben" from right around the same time. Listening to them both now, they aren't quite as good as I remember them being and I'm even tempted to say that Mariah Carey's cover of the former is superior. But they're both still decent and convincing, which is more than can be said for the likes of "She's Out of My Life" and "It's the Falling in Love". Both of these songs are from Off the Wall, an album with a stellar first side ("Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" is still his finest moment) but a boring flip, largely populated by slushy old love songs. (The fact that his very so-so cover of Paul McCartney's "Girlfriend" is the side's high point says all you need to know) Thriller isn't quite as strong as Off the Wall but it does benefit by having fewer slow songs and by having them better spread out among the tracks people actually want to listen to. Though it had a nice melody, "Human Nature" was certainly more tolerable sandwiched between "Billie Jean" and "P.Y.T." than had it been placed in between a pair of weepies.

All that said, "I Just Can't Stop Loving You" is a passable effort and there are worse singles that he chose to release later on from Bad. Songwriter and backing vocalist Siedah Garrett fills in well enough for Streisand and Houston. These more famous guests would have undoubtedly tried to leave a mark of their own on the recording but the restrained approach is much better suited to the material. This is not a duet of contrasting individuals who want different things but people with a passion for one another. It might as well not even be a duet but since it is, why not utilise a female singer who kind of sounds like Michael Jackson? As the song begins to wind down, you scarcely notice Garrett anymore and it starts making sense why they didn't give her an artist co-credit.

Jackson had this irritating tendency of repeating the tricks that made him successful. Seven singles were released from Thriller, nine from Bad. (Remarkably, another nine were siphoned off of 1991's Dangerous; "Black or White" and "Remember the Time" are the only ones I can recall) An absurdly lengthy promo for "Thriller" which begat one for "Bad". (Again, he did this for "Black or White"; did ever occur to him that the novelty of these excruciatingly long and boring videos had worn off?) Where he had it right was in trying new things. He hadn't done a film surrounding his music before so that was fine (I mean, I've never actually seen it) nor had he released a modest little ballad that was only sort of a duet to little fanfare. I guess when you're locked away in Neverland, you might lose the ability to read the room and realise that people might be starting to get sick of you. The Bad period was only just kicking off and I was already tired of him.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

New Order: "True Faith"

With all due respect to Ro Newton, she wasted her SOTF on an average MJ record. There are worse new releases (The Colourfield's version of The Monkees' "She" is utterly wretched; it would be their final release which was a sad end for Terry Hall's third group when he was able to go out on a high note with both "Ghost Town" and "Our Lips Are Sealed" with previous units) but the latest from New Order buries the competition. They had already put out a series of excellent singles by this point but "True Faith" was their first since "Blue Monday" to seem like something really special. Not only is the music as stunning as anything they'd ever record but this is their one song that really connects with teenage angst. As Newton points out, their sound was getting poppier but that's not a bad thing if, like me, you prefer The Best of New Order to Substance. If not, you can have your indie darling New Order and I'll have my indie-mixed-with-some-pop New Order. Happy?

U2: "With or Without You"

25 March 1987

"This single will send tingles down your spine."

— Ro Newton

It's difficult to imagine now but there was a time when Bono and U2 weren't hugely famous — and one needn't go back as far as the sixties when they were still in primary school. The recording of the Band Aid charity single "Do They Know It's Christmas?" at the end of November,1984 was something the press were all over — and, for once, trashy tabloid coverage wasn't unwelcome. One such journal of "record" carried a photo of three vocalists sharing a mic, naming them in a left to right caption: Sting, Bono of U2 and Simon Le Bon. Everyone knew the lead singers from The Police and Duran Duran respectively but the Irishman in the middle with the silly name? Better remind people who he plays with.

Bono of U2. The Irish foursome hadn't been massive pop stars the way Culture Club, Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet and Wham! had been but they had been coming off their strongest year yet. Having threatened to be hit makers for a while (the group came in fifth place in both 1980 and '81 for Most Promising New Act in the Smash Hits reader's poll, leading one nameless wag to comment "isn't it about time they came up with a really hot single and fulfilled some of that potential?"), they gradually won British fans over before going on to pull the same trick on the other side of the Atlantic. 1984's The Unforgettable Fire as well as hit single "Pride (In the Name of Love)" proved to be a breakthrough but real fame still alluded them.

A three year layover between albums is nothing in the twenty-first century but it wasn't as common back in the eighties. Michael Jackson and Bruce Springsteen — who both happened to have hotly anticipated new albums on their way in 1987 — could get away with such a delay since their earlier releases had been so overwhelmingly successful but, generally, it was common to remain productive. Both R.E.M. and The Smiths, groups who competed with U2 in terms of cult popularity, would put out an album every year as their fame gradually increased but ver "2" chose to hold off on a follow up for a bit. Ro Newton says that not much has been heard from them since their hit single "Pride" but this isn't entirely true — as she even admits herself. The simple narrative surrounding Live Aid was that Phil Collins kept his fans, Queen renewed them and U2 gained a whole new following. Their ten minute performance of "Bad" was simply epic and star making. You'd think this would be the perfect time to get more product out. Indeed, the E.P. Wide Awake in America reinforced their reputation as a towering live act and sold well despite the fact that the maxi single never really took off in North America. But seeming to capitalize on a charity concert was not the way they wanted to go about their business.

Wisely, the group chose to keep their appearances rare and did so only in high-profile benefit concerts. Following Live Aid, as Newton points out, they also appeared at an Amesty International event and at the (mostly) Irish artists-only Self Aid in Dublin. But when were they going to release something new? Bono did have a top twenty hit with countrymen Clannad on "In a Lifetime", which got him his first Smash Hits cover nearly two years before he did so as part of his day job. It helped that their following extended well beyond fickle young people. Baby Boomers who were snapping up CD's by Collins, Dire Straits and Sade had come to notice this quartet and they liked what they heard and saw. Bono and The Edge had long hair but it didn't look like they fussed over it. Their clothing was simple. Plus, everything they did seemed to mean something. Keeping their Christianity hidden away, they dedicated songs to Martin Luther King, had opinions on the arms race and their willingness to appear at festivals and on compilations for a good cause was such that it clearly wasn't just a passing fancy.

So, then it was 1987 and interest in U2 was still high though they weren't yet megastars. With all their heavy-handed charity work, they were in danger of getting on the wick of the public, which they would start doing before long (I don't know if it's in the movie but on the Rattle & Hum album, Bono goes into a long-winded speech in the middle of "Silver and Gold". Noticing a fan in the front row looking bored, he asks resentfully, "am I bugging you? Don't mean to bug ya"). It was a good move, then, to return with a love song. Yes, "With or Without You" is as serious and as rockist as they would remain for the rest of the decade but one can't help but feel gripped by Bono's underrated powers as a vocalist, those clipped guitars of The Edge (a good move on his part to hold off on his patented "shimmering shards" on this one) and Adam Clayton's pulse-beat bass. A pop obsessed youth of the time may have forgotten all about them (assuming they were ever aware) but they could find it just as enjoyable as an earnest, bespectacled English Lit major and treasurer of the Students for a Free Tibet or the "hip", ponytailed school career's advisor who used to believe in stuff.

Youngsters in the eighties may not be the most natural fans of U2 but they were probably better suited to judging their work based on their own merits. Kids weren't listening to Bobo, The Hedge, Adam "Clear Off" Clayton and the Other One because it was supposed to be good for them or because they gave money to Greenpeace or whatever but because their best songs have something that speaks to angst-ridden teens. "With or Without You" presents a 'damned if you do, damned if you don't' scenario that the young can identify with. Far from being a romantic statement, the song casts love as a burden which fails to reduce stress levels. Morrissey may have spoken to awkwardness but the dissatisfied wandering spirit of Bono's lyrics are as much a part of the spotty, go-nowhere loser's listening diet than anything else.

Despite U2's appeal among yuppies and clapped out old hippies and the like buying their back catalog on CD, they were always at heart a singles band. Some of their albums are excellent, others just fine and a couple with little going for them but they always had three or four outstanding potential 45's tucked away even if everything else was of no consequence. The Joshua Tree album had "With or Without You" as well as "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" and "Where the Streets Have No Name" and they were all deservedly huge hits even if much of the rest of the L.P. was rather dour and samey. Grown up rock mags like Q and Rolling Stone could have all that rock 'n' roll authenticity and those boring deep cuts. They were never quite at home in the silly, frolicking world of Smash Hits but as long as they put out brilliant singles such as this, there would always be room in the hearts of Hits readers for a bit of U2.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Tom Verlaine: "Cry Mercy Judge"

You can take the girl from the indie but you can't take the indie from the girl. Somehow or other, Newton is hopeful that a record like "Cry Mercy Judge" can help land the former Television frontman a much needed hit. Obviously she's right that it's a fun little rocker but I reckon she's approached it like the Whistle Test host that she once was. Tom Verlaine always deserved a wider audience but his menacing tone and some cool spidery guitar wasn't going to cut it for getting into the charts. We would all have to get into him the traditional way: by seeking out Marquee Moon, playing it whole bunch of times, talking about it non stop and then never bothering to investigate the rest of his stuff.

The Bible: "Mahalia"

19 November 1986

"This is highly wistful and contains a wonderfully swoonsome melody — even though the singer is no great "shakes" and I haven't the foggiest what he's going on about."

— Ro Newton

Fifteen singles are up for consideration this fortnight and there are some pretty big names as the UK music industry was gearing up for another Christmas number one chart battle. Artists who have already featured on this blog — The Human League, Alison Moyet, Paul Young, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, The Communards, Cameo — are joined by Paul Simon, a-ha and Amazulu, making the competition pretty fierce, even if hardly any of them were doing their best work. All but one of these new releases ended up making the charts, with even the Wendy Richard/Mike Berry cover of the already hideous "Come Outside" managing a very modest "hit". It seems swoonsome melodies weren't selling so well.

Big names deserve big record labels and many of them are present here too. The punk-era rise of the independents seems to be on the wane a good decade later. Smaller labels disappeared, others got absorbed into one of the larger competitors and many of the prominent indies that were left had strong acts to keep them afloat. On the other side of the Atlantic there may have been some noise about these alternative acts (although I think at the time most of it was known as 'college rock') but the likes of Depeche Mode, New Order and The Smiths all had major label backing in North America which somewhat undermined their indie status. There's only one truly independent release in this issue's singles page and it was on a small label based in Norwich. The Bible were signed to Backs Records in the Norfolk city. Being on a such a small label undoubtedly contributed to the lack of chart success for "Mahalia", even though preceding single "Graceland" did manage to sneak into the listings. In any case, it is by some distance the best record on offer here and Ro Newton is right to make it her SOTF.

"I sing God's music because it makes me feel free. It gives me hope. With the blues, when you finish, you still have the blues".

Newton admits that she doesn't understand what's going on in this song and I might be right there with her if not for the internet — the quote above having been pinched from the introduction to Mahalia Jackson's Wikipedia page. I don't know if Boo Hewerdine had heard or read this statement but the sentiment feeds into his tribute "Mahalia". Her music brings one closer to a kind of salvation, though not necessarily the heavenly kind. It brings people up ("sing my joyfulness") while the Delta blues of Robert Johnson only manages to drag one down, something Hewerdine isn't having ("I can't understand, I won't understand").

With a name like The Bible and a loving tribute to a gospel great, there's a reasonable expectation that these guys may have been into Jesus. Still, Hewerdine doesn't state his or his group's religious beliefs one way or the other so they're none of my business — and they're irrelevant. Gospel music is great because it can appeal all kinds of people — black and white, young and old, religious or humanist — which typically alludes the bulk of Contemporary Christian music, whose practitioners are playing to their own crowd and busy sucking up to Jesus to be too concerned about making great music. But great gospel transcends the pulpit and the pews and reaches people. The devotional and secular come together to the extent that Aretha Franklin's extraordinary "I Never Loved a Man" isn't simply either a hymn to the Lord or a sexual awakening but might as well be both. Jackson's work isn't as aroused but much of it was as politically-charged as it was religious and her music became part of the Civil Rights Movement.

With Newton's comparison to Haircut One Hundred (perhaps she's thinking of it as a less bouncy "Love Plus One"), a prominent saxophone and an obvious debt to black music, "Mahalia" isn't a million miles away from the slickly-produced UK sub-genre that would eventually be dubbed 'Sophisti-pop' (aka 'Soulcialism'). While forerunners such as ABC, The Blue Nile, Prefab Sprout and Avalon-era Roxy Music are still regarded fondly to this day, it was quickly hitting a creative nadir even if it was still a commercial goldmine. The Bible, however, managed to avoid lapsing into smooth jazz-pop territory. It helps that their musical palette was much more diverse than your Blow Monkeys or Climie Fishers (the rest of their excellent debut LP Walking the Ghost Back Home touches upon indie rock and, appropriately given Hewerdine's subsequent career path, folk). Also, while Newton isn't crazy about Hewerdine's voice (personally, I like it), it has character and he clearly isn't concerned with how his Sinatra impersonation is coming along. There's even a sense that the sax solos aren't studied to death. And they weren't on a major record label with oodles of cash at their disposal and pressure to dish up the hits. There's something to be said for being on the fringes.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Curiosity Killed the Cat: "Down to Earth"

The Bible were on the outside but how were mainstream sophisti-pop acts doing? On paper, there should be every reason in the world to dig Curiosity Killed the Cat. Ben Volpeliere-Pierrot can really sing, the group can really play and "Down to Earth" is even kind of catchy. Yet, it's unlikable. There's too much confidence in this lot, too much of a sense that they know what they're doing. Ben isn't asking Mahalia to sing his joyfulness because he'll do so himself, thank you so much. The sophisti-poppers all seemed to have phenomenal record collections yet their scholarship seldom translated into the kind of passion and intensity they loved in their soul heroes. Some mucking about on an indie label would have done them a world of good.

Elvis Costello & The Attractions: "Tokyo Storm Warning"

27 August 1986

"The appealing thing about Elvis is that he wraps his ideas up in strong melodies which don't detract from what he's saying. And you can dance to them..."

— Ro Newton

This fortnight's singles were reviewed by Ro Newton, a Hits critic I don't know a great deal about. Very brief bios online say she now goes by the name of Rosemary Barrett but either way she doesn't have a huge social media presence, if she at all. But two things of note about her back in the day: (1) she was a presenter on The Old Grey Whistle Test alongside fellow music journalists Mark Ellen and David Hepworth and (2) she made that most unlikely of jumps from Number One to Smash Hits.

As a boy it would sometimes puzzle me when competing sides would act like their main rival didn't exist. There was no trace of Superman in the world of Marvel Comics and the Avengers were nowhere to be found in DC. A newcomer hero or villain at one wrestling promotion would never be acknowledged as having previously been a part of another. Newton's arrival at ver Hits wasn't trumpeted with a 'she's joining us after a successful stint at rival pop mag Number One', nor was her departure from Numero Uno given a 'she's off to improve the fortunes of Hash Smits and jolly good luck to her!' One can only imagine the hurt leaving her old job caused as well as the suspicion with which her new co-workers held her. Being a Whistle Test presenter, she might not have given a toss which teen pop mag she was toiling for since her heart may have been in indie rock. And who better to give props to in her first singles review at bat than Elvis Costello?

1984 saw the release of Goodbye Cruel World, Costello's disastrous post-divorce ninth album that almost no one likes. He has subsequently gone into spin mode on it, declaring that it's his worst album of good songs or best album of crap songs or something but in any event, the entire experience was enough to get him to try something new. With that in mind, he ditched the eighties production and sythns and did a roots country work called King of America. He even ditched his longtime band The Attractions in favour of some crack American sessioners. It's a big improvement on Goodbye... but still flawed. After a while the clever yarns, funny lyrics ("She said that she was working for the ABC news, it was as much of the alphabet as she knew how to use" is still one of the best lines he's ever come up with) and rootsy tunes get a bit on the wick and I'm never able to make it much past the tenth track "Eisenhower Blues". Again, a different approach was in order.

Getting back with fellow Attractions Steve Nieve, Bruce Thomas and Pete Thomas with King... in the can, Costello discovered that there wasn't much left for him musically. No one in the group liked each other anymore and so they made the best of a bad situation by thrashing away at their instruments. As if to compensate, Costello put his pen in overdrive, writing lengthy verses for at least two tracks of their latest release Blood & Chocolate. A big favourite among his still-loyal following, it's a good marking for just how much Declan MacManus one can take. Turns out, I can only take so much but it's his most avowedly rock album since This Year's Model so there are people out there who reckon it's one of the best things His Nibs ever did.

Newton praises his melodies but in this respect Blood... is probably his weakest album to date. His bandmates often sound like an especially glum bar band so perhaps he just didn't have much to work with. Lyrically it's all over the shop with the twice rejected "I Hope You're Happy Now" ("...it almost sounded like pop music," admits its author, doing his best to justify an uncharacteristically bland song) making the cut along with the unnecessarily long "I Want You". But this approach wasn't for naught as it did get a piece like "Tokyo Storm Warning" out of his system.

They say that a day in Bangkok is too much but a week isn't enough. Apparently that's Costello's take on the Japanese capital too. You arrive and there are neon signs with chicken scratch hiragana and katakana characters, grotesque cosplay youths and oddball mascots and, bloody hell!, where am I?!? Culture shock is bad enough just crossing the Atlantic but here in the Far East? At least they speak some form of English in Vegas! Of course, you eventually come down and discover that the people are friendly, the food's great (if a little too salty) and all that crap that bugged you out at first is actually pretty cool. You love Japan — until you come back.

The above has never been my experience visiting Japan (aside from all the good stuff) but I know what it's like to be alienated by a massive Asian city. Bangkok, Jakarta, Singapore, Seoul: they've all irritated and freaked me out at various times for different reasons. What I never did was equate any of them with conflicts in Afghanistan or Kosovo. I don't know where Costello gets the idea that his aggrieved and jet lagged self is somehow looking at Tokyo through the prism of the Falklands, Palestine and South Africa but at least he got a good song out of it. Verses come at you in waves with loads of impressive imagery ("Between the Disney abattoir and the chemical refinery", "Japanese God, Jesus robots telling teenage fortunes") that either means everything or nothing.  Indeed, the chorus shrugs its shoulders ("what do we care?") but I'd much rather sing along with whatever the hell Costello's going on about.

The downside, however, is that it's best consumed just the once. Just as albums like Dark Side of the Moon and OK Computer never sound as good on repeated listens so,too, does "Tokyo Storm Warning". There aren't any hidden elements or musical touches to rediscover and the endless verses can become heavy-handed rather quickly. That doesn't mean it can't be appreciated further, just that weaknesses do creep in after a few plays. Newton is reminded of The Rolling Stones' classic "Satisfaction" but for me it's more like Dylan's brilliant "Highway 61 Revisited", albeit without the humour, playfulness and siren whistle. The Bard is very much at the heart of what Costello is doing here and the comparison almost works. If it is his "Desolation Row" then it's only because nothing else qualifies.

Newton's recommendation didn't do much for its chart prospects as it stalled just inside the Top 75. In addition to its stream-of-consciousness lyrics, radio programmers and listeners may have been turned off by having to flip the single over just to hear the second half of the song. In any case, it never had much commercial potential but it retains a special place in the Elvis Costello canon, despite it being a bunch of codswallop. Or, and here's a thought, perhaps precisely because it is.

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Also Review This Fortnight

New Order: "State of the Nation"

Nowadays everyone sings with their eyes closed and likes New Order but that wasn't always the case. They made a string of good but not great LP's and had a run of singles that was pretty damn impressive but they seldom put out anything that people went bananas for and were kind of taken for granted by the pop world — and I can certainly see why with "State of the Nation". Another six minute-plus single, it's helped rather than hindered by Factory having the good sense to edit it down for the 7" mix. A supposed protest song, the lyrics are really just a textbook example of how Barney Sumner would telegraph his rhymes. The tune a is vaguely jangly throwback to "Everything's Gone Green" but which seems out of date next to follow-up single "Bizarre Love Triangle". Nothing special and they did much better — even if they also did worse.