Altered Images: "I Could Be Happy"

10 December 1981

"This will equal, if not better, the success of "Happy Birthday". No problem Jimmy."

— Ian Birch

In an episode of Word in Your Ear, co-host Mark Ellen theorized about the early days of Smash Hits and how it attracted bands who had been around but went about making changes to adapt to the landscape of a bright new pop magazine (although it probably had at least as much to do with the rise of the music video at about the same time). These groups included Dexys Midnight Runners, The Human League and Madness. There were also those, Ellen continued, who seemed birthed with ver Hits in mind. Significantly, one of these acts came with a name that would sum up changes that were afoot: Altered Images.

In a pop world free of glossy mags, colourful promos and high fashion, it's difficult to imagine what Altered Images' image would have been like. Post-punk bands weren't supposed to be fronted by charming pixies like Clare Grogan; the few women who did emerge tried their best to look tough, menacing and/or scary, like Chrissie Hynde, Siouxsie Sioux and Patti Smith. Others like Kate Bush and Lene Lovich were very clearly artists. But a cute, girl-next-door? They weren't in high demand in the late-seventies.

Yet, Grogan couldn't have been a more fitting front woman for Altered Images. The four blokes who accompanied her could easily have been members of moody fellow Scots Orange Juice but they followed their lead singer by daring to smile in photos and look like they were perfectly happy to be riding the giddy carousel of pop right along with her. In a music business increasingly concerned with appearing to be serious, the Ims were having none of it.

Giving that serious pop made by serious people would be the norm for the next few years, it would have been difficult to trace the legacy of Altered Images. It was not until quirky Scottish indie pop became a cottage industry beginning in the late-nineties that their influence began to be felt. Where would Belle & Sebastian have been without them? And, yet, I wasn't overly fond of "I Could Be Happy" four-and-a-half years ago when I last blogged about it.

As I mentioned previously, it didn't help that Ian Birch oversold it. The bassline is barely noticeable so I don't know where he gets the idea that it sizzles. Martin Rushent clearly produced it well enough but there's no evidence that he and the band had any real "chemistry". And for the love of god, who's this "Jimmy" fellow mentioned above? Guitarist Jim McKinven? Another music industry type? A mate of Birch? The royal Jimmy?

With the passing of the years, however, I feel more well-disposed to the Ims. Sure, the lyrics are as naff as ever but Grogan's singing is zesty enough that it really doesn't matter. The guitars hardly surge, the bass may or may not sizzle but the overall performance of the group is bouncy, full of pop energy and just new wavy enough that it doesn't smack of a period piece.

It's been a while since I saw the acclaimed film Juno and declared that "quirky must die" but my derision for this particular style has not dulled. And while Altered Images certainly helped bring it about, their best work manages to transcend being 'intelligently throwaway'. They were ahead of their time enough that it doesn't blight their legacy. They'll never be my first choice of music to listen to while washing dishes, going hiking, grading exams and just being a good-for-nothing lump but there's no real reason to oppose what they were all about either. A fine record from the first band who seemed tailor-made for Smash Hits.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Rolling Stones: "Waiting on a Friend"

Poignancy never came easy to Mick and Keef, though it wasn't something they aimed for very often. But "Waiting on a Friend" is perhaps their most poignant number since "I Am Waiting" from their 1966 masterpiece Aftermath. Following the success of the overrated "Start Me Up", this laid back number dating back to 1972 didn't get the airplay of its predecessor and couldn't hope to repeat its success. Nonetheless, "Waiting on a Friend" is a much better song. It's release at the end of 1981 makes it timely as well since this was when tensions in the band were at an all time high — a situation that would remain for the bulk of the decade. The eighties wouldn't be one of their best periods but at least they had a few wonderful little numbers tucked away to see them through their near-breakup. Plus, the video gives an idea of what the Stones would've been like had they done a guest spot on Sesame Street. Wonderful.

(Click here to see my original review)

The Pogues: Poguetry in Motion

12 March 1986

"The ever-wonderous Pogues move on!"

— Sylvia Patterson

Chris Heath and William Shaw were already on board by this time so the Smash Hits staff that I became familiar with in 1988 was beginning to form. Still, I'm not sure either of them needed a job at a top pop mag to launch their writing careers nearly as much as Sylvia Patterson. Without getting the call from ver Hits she might never have gotten out of the Scottish provinces. Dundee's loss was pop journalism's gain.

In early '86, however, she's young and wet behind ver ears and, she admits in her excellent autobiography I'm Not with the Band, "didn't have a clue" what she was doing. So besotted was she by the sex "appeal" of Mick Hucknall that she personally delivered an issue with him on the cover to him in Edinburgh — only to get the brush off from the most sex-obsessed pop star of his generation. But this devotion, spirit and love for the singers and musicians she wrote for helped make her such a brilliant critic.

But she's yet to come out of her shell in the spring of this year. Her reviews are thoughtfully considered and well written but far from what we would come to expect in the years ahead. She was already up on some of the Hits jargon and liberal use of inverted commas but you can sense she's not quite comfortable. She coos over some faves (The Pogues, obviously, but also The Stones and Tom Waits) but isn't quite ready to spit all over the records she doesn't rate. She'll get there.

The Pogues are so well-remembered for their great 1987 Christmas carol "Fairytale of New York" that few know anything else by them anymore. But while Eurythmics enjoyed a decade of Top 10 action, Shane MacGowan's crew only had a small number of hit singles, so the fact that one of their numbers touched such a nerve is impressive. And, happily, it isn't one that relies too much on being a tedious drinking song from the Emerald Isle. Poguetry in Motion is their first material that takes them away from their (supposed) Irish roots.

Opening with the striking "London Girl", The Pogues make either a deliberate or unintentional claim to the territory of an increasingly irrelevant Dexys Midnight Runners. There's a definite Celtic sound but one that's augmented by nods to pop, punk and soul. Shane MacGowan's strung out, Joe Strummer-esque vocals make him a perfect anti-blue eyed soulman heir to Kevin Rowland. The song is a great way to kick off the E.P. and a document of what a terrific live group they were supposed to be.

But like Rowland before him, MacGowan had a tender side and he never showed it off better than on "A Rainy Night in Soho" which follows "London Girl". Reflective of a drunken night of clarity wandering home (in the rain, presumably) and realising that life isn't quite working out, it's a wonder he didn't hold it over to close out the entire E.P. Indeed, The Pogues were moving on — at least to some extent. So, yeah, Patterson's right. The Pogues are pretty mega. And there's so much more to them than just all that faux-Irish stuff. Yeah, about that...

A flip of the record and suddenly you're in a prefab Irish pub in Edmonton, Seattle or Gili Trawangan that has "Irish nachos" on the menu and female servers with socks up to their knees. The kind of sound (and just the sort of place) that you're certain must be this authentic because how could they fake it? Celtic music isn't my cup of tea but I'd certainly sooner listen to The Chieftains or The Irish Descendants doing what they do best than The Pogues going through the motions with it. The two tracks on the flip are played with customary enthusiasm but to what end? I guess "The Body of an American" and the instrumental "Planxty Noel Hill" would have appealed to their hardcore fanbase — people, it would seem, with little interest in seeing them move on.

Given their connections to Irish music and songs like "The Body of an American" and, indeed, "Fairytale of New York", it's probably understandable that The Pogues would be so identified with Ireland and even Irish-Americans. But they were very much more a London thing — despite band members coming from towns like Pembury, Eastbourne and Dorset but they're close enough, right — and the first side of Poguetry in Motion really captures being down and out dirtbags in the British capital far more beautifully than anything they could do set in Dublin or New York. The purists were probably cross but when aren't they?

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Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Rolling Stones: "Harlem Shuffle"

They had their psychedelic phase on Their Majesty's Satanic Request, they went glam on Goat's Head Soup and did a kind of New York disco-punk thing on Some Girls, so ver Stones should have gone indie on Dirty Work, their Steve Lillywhite-produced 1986 album. Or perhaps not. Mick, Keef and the others are always at their best when they just sound like themselves and rarely during a trying decade did they sound as good as on "Harlem Shuffle". They hadn't released a cover version as a single in over twenty years but the change did them some good, especially since the bulk of the originals on Dirty Work are rubbish. But I hope Our Syl enjoyed the "incredibly brilliant" video because I sure didn't.