Snips: "9 O'Clock"

19 March 1981

"I raved about this when it first came out last year, I'm about to do the same thing again and I shall continue to babble its virtues from the rooftops until Snips is a stay or they come to take me away, whichever is soonest."

— David Hepworth

This again???

Music critics have a right to change their minds or even to alter their opinions ever so slightly — although I would've liked to have seen more of an explanation given back in the early part of 1998 as to why Oasis' universally praised album Be Here Now was suddenly being described as lackluster, self-indulgent and drug-fueled. David Hepworth previously reviewed The Human League's "Empire State Human" on two occasions and was more effusive with his praise the second time round. As he has stated himself, reviewing singles is something that's done over an unfairly short period of time and it's easy to make mistakes, miss something or just get a song wrong.

Nevertheless, it's nice to see that he isn't walking back his review from almost a year earlier. If anything, he appears to love it even more. The song initially grabbed his attention with those irresistible synth sirens that shriek all over the place in a manner that's sort of like The Beach Boys' "Good Vibrations" or ELO's "Mr. Blue Sky" but manages to be different enough to sound original in its own right. But now he finds the time to wax about its "strong guitar/drums core" and the fact that Parsons' delivery is a hidden gem. His first evaluation comes after having "weathered" around two dozen dismal offerings of that issue's singles and in that context it's no wonder he liked it so much. That said, the pickings are much stronger this time round and he's still besotted by it.

With the distance of a few months since I last had a look, I can see why he still enjoys it. Looking at the singles from 1979 and '80, I began to tire of all that new wave/post-punk: all those deadpan vocals, those minimalist guitar licks, those many sub-Peter Hook-esque basslines, that bare-bones production. (I'll never be able to listen to Young Marble Giants again) Stephen W. Parsons, aka Snips, was much more musically open-minded than all those thin bands with thin ties making thin records but "9 O'Clock" still seemed too attached to that era. By 1981, however, the music scene was becoming increasingly awash in the New Romantics and synth-pop, the old cliches giving way to new ones. Some dynamic and explosive pop-rock would've been just the thing at the precise moment that the group once known as Joy Division was evolving into New Order and The Jam were tripping on soul music.

Combining power pop energy, a post-punk atmosphere and pop hooks, "9 O'Clock" deserved to be a hit in either 1980 or '81. That it never caught on in spite of multiple attempts and strong critical backing speaks to how many great singles there were at the time and how a quirky rocker like this could slip through the cracks. For all its pervasiveness, crashing new wave didn't guarentee chart success (even some of the most well-remembered bands of the era like Squeeze and XTC had up-and-down Top 40 fortunes). By '81, it stood almost zero chance of landing.

As for babbling its "virtues from the rooftops", I haven't heard much praise from Hepworth since. Snips hasn't appeared on the excellent Word in Your Ear podcast and Heps' love for "9 O'Clock" hasn't resulted in any of his sweeping, unbeatable theories for which he is rightly renowned. Does he still adore it? Has he forgotten all about it? Possibly but all he has to do is rediscover it and he'll be gushing over it to co-host Mark Ellen and the many WITY listeners/viewers. I can see it now: "I think you'll find that records age well because we age well..." — or something to that effect.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Hazel O'Connor: "D-Days"

Hepworth admits to donning "Red Starr's Russian fur hat" and engaging in a little "cossack dancing round the office" while the latest from Hazel O'Connor was playing. What she perhaps unknowingly created was this link between Ukrainian folk music and ska/rocksteady, a connection I had never noticed until now but one that I will never unhear. (This has no doubt occurred to everyone else before and I'm sure there's a fantastic reggae version of the Tetris theme out there) All this would be for nought if "D-Days" sucked but luckily it's quite outstanding. I had suspected that O'Connor falls closer to the wrong side of the Lene Lovich-Toyah divide but I'm happy to consider myself corrected on that matter. In truth, she doesn't have nearly the charisma of either but she makes up for it by having a strong set of pipes and a band that kills it here. A solid second to Snips in the Single of the Fortnight stakes.

Snips: "9 O'Clock"

6 March 1980

"Well, now that the Pile On My Left has become the Pile On My Right and the Ovaltine is nearly ready, I make no apologies for giving the First-Annual-Happiness-Is-Seven-Inches-Across-And-Goes-Round-Swiftly Award to Snips for "9 O'Clock" (EMI)."

— David Hepworth

Still trying to keep the new (but ultimately doomed) format afloat, David Hepworth describes his process of reviewing the singles in some detail. He has his Pile On His Left, a stack of fresh new records that he must evaluate which, once completely, begins to form his Pile On His Right. It sounds like a very organized system, with just a small turntable and a notepad in between the two stacks. Future issues of ver Hits that feature pop stars as guest critics are accompanied by photos of them posed on a spread of 45s and, in some cases, happily destroying discs and ripping up sleeves but it seems the paid staff behaved much more professionally — even if they absolutely hated the task in front of them.

I have written previously that Hepworth took no pleasure in reviewing the singles and it seems to be here that it was really starting to wear on him. Given what he's having to listen to here, who can blame him? I, too, shake my head at what was left of the post-Hotel California Eagles and their pitiful offering "I Can't Tell You Why". I'm with him on the lame, bloodless rock of my fellow Canadians April Wine and their single "I Like to Rock" which somehow became their biggest "hit" in the UK. Former sensations The Knack and M had difficulty following their smash singles "My Sharona" and "Pop Muzik" respectively and it is clear they didn't have anything left in the tank with their feeble latest releases. Yeah, alongside such company, I might also go a tad overboard with praise for "9 O'Clock" by Snips.

The alias of Stephen W. Parsons, who has subsequently gone on to some success composing film scores, Snips was one of those acts that was unlucky not to have broken through to a larger audience. Hepworth has long been an admirer but he's especially taken by his latest effort. Having Midge Ure twiddling the knobs behind a recording desk was probably a big key. Though his recording career has had at least as many downs as ups, one cannot deny that the man knows his pop inside and out. (A chancer he may be but there's an upside to going from seventies boy band to punk rock to touring with Thin Lizzy and on to new wave and synth-pop — and this was all within less than a decade!) The pairing of Parsons and Ure proves a bounty of pop rock scholarship, from The Beatles and sixties' Nuggets classics to Roxy Music's early work and all those great Electric Light Orchestra singles. It may sound spontaneous and fresh but its bedrock is the previous twenty years of British pop.

It is at first, however, a little disappointing. Upon first listening, it feels like little more than very competently made power pop. This, of course, may well be recommendation enough for some who worship at the alter of Big Star and get their rocks on to Cheap Trick. I'm not as thrilled by the genre as I usually find it far too formulaic. And, indeed, "9 O'Clock" sticks to power pop orthodoxy. Luckily, it has that dynamic Ure production and all those hooks that Hepworth can't get enough of. Snips' voice sounds like every new wave singer back in 1980 with that punk-esque urgency that dials back on the invective. Am I supposed to love this? Shouldn't it be better?

But it has grown on me as well. It's not simply a decent record that sounds better than it is held up next to a bunch of nondescript new singles; it lodges itself in the brain but only bits of it which means I've been forced to seek it out further than most songs I write about on here, particularly those that fail to excite me from the off. There's something to "9 O'Clock" that you just don't hear in every post-punk power pop record — I just can't quite put my finger on what it is. I might need to get back to you on this one — maybe, say, in about a year from now.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Joan Armatrading: "Rosie"

Ignored by Smash Hits for at least a month (Hepworth considers their negligence to be particularly shameful given her ability to sing a "VAT form and mak[e] it mean something" but those are always the performers we take for granted), "Rosie" is given a courtesy review even though it was peaking just shy of the top 40 this very week. Engaging as ever, it's a nice reminder that Joan Armatrading could do lightness just as well as she could do gravitas. She could also do a whole lot better though.