Roman Holliday: "Don't Try to Stop It"

23 June 1983

"Very lively, a good summer record and, with the right breaks, it should be a big hit."

— George Michael

"It sounds like a sophisticated JoBoxers."

— Andrew Ridgley

The lads from Wham! are in the singles reviewer's chair this fortnight and they don't exactly kill it like Gary Kemp a couple issues back. Dragged down a bit perhaps by an uninspiring bunch of records, the pair don't seem to have much to say. In keeping with their group dynamic of one member doing vocals, music, writing and production and the other seemingly content to be a mate and look the part, George Michael takes the lead with the bulk of the little analysis offered up. For his part, perennial other one Andrew Ridgely does trot out the odd perceptive remark (his comment above comparing Roman Holliday to JoBoxers is the closest thing to a fascinating observation) but is otherwise consigned to the background. Good to know that Wham! could never stop being Wham!

We're a long way off from the starkly serious George Michael — not to mention the equally starkly serious facial hair that accompanied his metamorphosis — that pop music fans would eventually become all-too familiar with but we're already seeing a figure in dire need of a sense of humour. He also shows signs of a sizable rock star ego. Unable at times to put the records he's been tasked with first, he says of heavy metal that its one saving grace is that the "attitudes that go with it are far less dangerous than the elitism I bump into once or twice a week at London's trendier nightclubs". Of the sleeve of "Disco Bond" by The Frank Barber Orchestra, he points out that "if I were the sexist pig I've been accused of being, I'd probably say that the only decent thing about this record are the tasty birds on the cover". He's far from the worst offender in this regard but it's a bit sad seeing him make much of this review about himself.

Some records may have a lot going on in their favour yet still manage not to deliver much. Roman Holliday ably merge their obvious debt to fifties doo-wop and rock 'n' roll with post punk soul and touches of ska but they fail to convince in doing so. Their Peel session from a year earlier isn't really to my taste but their strict reliance on older styles feels much more comfortably in their element. Hardly tipped for a ride on the Giddy Carousel of Pop but it's easy to imagine them being good fun as a live act. (In the wacky video for "Don't Try to Stop It" they finish up their hectic day with a gig for some senior citizens which makes me wonder if they were nodding towards older audiences being better at appreciating their swing pop sound) It's hard to imagine what else backers John Peel and The Clash's Mick Jones saw in them otherwise. 

Good, throwaway fun for some, "Don't Try to Stop It" got some of the breaks that Michael had hoped for as it landed in the Top 20. Despite putting their very youthful-looking vocalist Steve Lambert on the cover later in the year, Roman Holliday were pretty much one and done, the follow-up, "Motormania", "enjoying" just a cup of coffee in charts. Novelty songs can have that effect. On the bright side, at least they could go back to being a real group again. You know, like Wham!

Postscript: Gosh the above was a little harsh. I guess I really was bored stiff with all those horns and all that pasty-white soul that had taken over British pop during much of the eighties. "Don't Try to Stop It" really isn't so bad and I'm not even sure it deserves to be lumped in with the likes of Dexys or JoBoxers anyway. Kevin Rowland may have sung about "poor old Johnnie Ray" but it seems like the members of Roman Holliday might have actually listened to the man. I suppose I was salty that George didn't name the vastly superior "Forbidden Colurs" by David Sylvian and the late Ryuichi Sakamoto as his Single of the Fortnight, which his bestie Andrew would have no doubt concurred with. (Oh, snap!)

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Marillion: "Garden Party"

With Genesis already subsumed into Phil Collins' solo career (honestly, was there any difference between the two by this point?) it was only right that the quintet that made up Marillion was around to make the pop kids aware of prog rock — even if the vast majority of them didn't want to know. Good on Fish and whoever else that made up his old band by making the four-and-a-half minutes allotted to "Garden Party" seem like it takes over an hour to get through: there's a kind of value-for-money to their knack for prolonging time. Like much of the prog I've heard, "Garden Party" is enjoyable enough musically but the lyrics and vocals drag it down. (Is it any wonder that Emerson, Lake & Palmer's extraordinary nine minute instrumental "Fanfare for the Common Man" is the genre's high point?) Thankfully, Marillion would get better by out Genesising Genesis with the marvelous single "Kayleigh" and the Misplaced Childhood album. Take that Abacab.

(Click here to see my original review)

Wham!: "Wham Rap! (Enjoy What You Do)"

24 June 1982

"Brilliant words, real excitement, hundreds of ideas, built-in participation and maximum humour."

— Neil Tennant

With New Pop really starting to heat up, it's rather unexpected that some of Britain's major musical talents were nevertheless hiding in plain sight. This review of "Wham Rap!" was published the day before its chief composer, George Michael, turned nineteen. It wouldn't be long before his pop duo Wham! began to take off but it's of no little significance that one of the first people to recognize his musical gifts was a Smash Hits editor and critic named Neil Tennant. Perhaps the two most dominant forces of late-eighties' UK pop and one had released a little-known, little-heard debut single on an obscure label and the other had just given it his thumbs up in a top pop mag.

The future Pet Shop Boy wasn't the only one with praise for Wham!'s first single. While they would become an object of scorn for the much more serious inkies, Adrian Thrills of the NME is pleasantly surprised by them, who he describes as "one of the least jaded groups I have heard all year". He also detects an "uncontrived freshness" about them ("call it naivety if you will") and concludes that they are "one to watch on the side". "The best white rap poor money can buy," exclaims someone in the Melody Maker; a bit of a backhanded compliment but I'll let it slide. (On the other hand, Mike Gardner from the Record Mirror is less impressed, taking up his entire review with a short rant about how much his dislikes rap, especially in the hands of a group like Wham!)

Yet it's Tennant's review that resonates. "I'd be lost in admiration if I could find time to stand still" is the quotation I used the previous time I blogged about "Wham Rap!" but it applies much more this time round. Tennant's love for the song's irresistible dance-pop is evident but I have to wonder if the aspiring pop star in him wasn't also somewhat jealous. As stated above, Michael and Ridgely were both still in their teens and they had already cut such an impressive maiden single. Meanwhile, Tennant was nearly a decade older than the duo. He had spent the bulk of his free time in the seventies writing songs but it was only the previous summer that he met Chris Lowe, his longtime partner in Pet Shop Boys. Writing for Smash Hits may seem like a dream job to a particular contingent of sad types on social media — and I should know being one of them — but the modest compensation and having to interview and write about acts of dubious musical merit might have rubbed this pop genius the wrong way.

This raises an intriguing question: who should he have have felt jealousy towards, someone of genuine ability (like George Michael) or someone lacking in sufficient talents (like Bardo and Bucks Fizz, both also reviewed this fortnight by Tennant who is sympathetic towards both). Considering he admits to (almost) being "lost in admiration", he doesn't seem to be bitter and it could be argued that Michael's British raps triggered him into doing something not dissimilar, albeit in his own deadpanned and restrained style. Nevertheless, it must have gnawed at Tennant that others were thriving while he struggled — and it couldn't have helped that Hits colleagues like Mark Ellen considered his early musical efforts to be hopeless and felt that 'Pet Shop Boys' was a useless name for a band.

For George Michael's part, he may have failed the first time round to secure a hit but getting positive write-ups in Smash Hits, the NME and Melody Maker must have been encouraging. The fact that "Wham Rap!" was a teaser to a rap career that never happened is of little importance. Like other left-leaning acts who would eventually go unashamedly commercial in the coming years (Bananarama, Simply Red, UB-bloody-40), it's easy to overlook the fact that Wham! once had a certain hipster cred about them. With Duran Duran shooting promos in far flung exotic locales and Spandau Ballet dressed so as to get laid as much as humanly possible, is it any wonder that an energetic rap about unemployment and living life to its fullest caught the ear of so many. What's more surprising is that it was the critics who recognized something special well before the public had any similar inkling.

Being as young as they were, Michael and Ridgely may have been expected to head for the dole queue had this pop lark not worked out. Thatcherite Britain may have deemed the nation's millions of unemployed to be a burden but that was irrelevant to the existential hedonism that gives life to "Wham Rap!" Adrian Thrills, in his review mentioned above, admits as an aside that he thought that the "demolition of the work ethic was last year's thing" but Michael was smart to add a "Get stuffed! I'm going to enjoy myself either way" spirit. Knowing what we know now, however, is there more to lines like "I am a man, job or no job, you can't tell me that I'm not" and "I have a good time, with the boys that I meet down on the line..." than what we would have initially guessed?

A future superstar hadn't quite arrived but he was certainly on his way. Another one was lagging a bit he was taking inspiration from many of the bands he was been paid to interview and review — and he was even going to use his position to allow him to forge relationships with people who would help him get to the top. He was just going to have to wait a good deal longer than Wham!, a group who would be all but broken up by the time Pet Shop Boys were ready to hit the charts. Neil Tennant had been astute enough to see a budding pop genius in George Michael but when was someone going to recognize it in him?

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Brotherhood of Man: "Lightning Flash"

I've already mentioned Bucks Fizz and Bardo but Brotherhood of Man are yet another act present who add to the Eurovision flavour of this issue's singles review. (David Essex never had a Eurovision entry? Really?) ABBA were busy divorcing and about to go on a thirty-eight year hiatus but their influence on British pop was never greater than at this time when the two girls-two boys group dynamic was rapidly becoming the norm would quickly be replaced by the charismatic singer-surly keyboardist synth-pop template. (Gee, who could I be referring to?) To be precise, Brotherhood of Man (I can think of at least two things wrong with their name) had long been this way and likely would've had much the same career path had those Swedes never bothered to leave Scandinavia. I like this a little more than Tennant but I can give or take it at the end of the day. It could be suggested they were capable of better but is that really so?

(Click here to see my original review)

Frankie Goes to Hollywood: "The Power of Love"

6 December 1984

"It might not sell as many t-shirts as "Relax" but the sharp money's on Des O'Connor doing a cover version within two years."

— Lesley White

It's been about twenty years now since reports began to emerge about a sextet of Americans from the south who were calling themselves 'Frankie Goes to Hollywood'. Led by Davey Johnson, who sometimes claimed to be Holly Johnson's brother, they were said to be an authentic continuation of of the unforgettable eighties Liverpool outfit even though (a) they had Dixie accents, (b) members of the original Frankie most certainly didn't and (c) they were absolute crap — a claim I feel very comfortable making despite having never heard them. If the 'New Frankie Goes to Hollywood Featuring Davey Johnson' (as they were also known as) had a talent it was their ability to fabricate their origin story, to double-down on it when called out and to alter it as time went on — not unlike a certain American president, as a matter of fact. I first became aware of them when "Johnson" was interviewed on the news to promote their show in Calgary. His "brother" Holly, he told a naive TV reporter, was unwell at the moment but they were hoping he'd be able to join them on tour at some point. Later, they seemed to drop Davey's familial relationship but then began claiming that some of them were uncredited sessioners on Frankie's debut album Welcome to the Pleasuredome. When called out by everyone from the media to former members of the original group, their manager put forth the dubious theory that because most of the group never actually played on their records, they weren't a real group and, thus, their name was up for grabs. Amazingly, this convinced precisely no one and the group presumably went back to Alabama where they are now known as 'Milli Vanilli Mark 2'. Probably.

The above anecdote isn't terribly relevant to this week's entry but for what it must have been like to have seen The New Frankie Goes to Hollywood. "Relax" made it into the top ten in North America (helped along no doubt by the famous t-shirts) and "Two Tribes" did okay too so Davey and his fellow fraudulent Frankies would have been forced to recreate those two numbers as well as they could but what else would have made it into their setlist? "Welcome to the Pleasuredome"? "Rage Hard"? "Warriors of the Wasteland"? Would the good people of Tulsa and Jacksonville and Calgary have known just how many old UK hits were being excluded? And did old Davey even know more than two Frankie songs? That they admitted to heading in the direction of rock (not a surprise given that they looked like Sugar Ray covers band) and played "C-grade Bryan Adams-type fare" makes me suspect that more obscure FGTH numbers weren't a priority. They were more likely to tackle Huey Lewis' "Power of Love" than their namesakes'.

No one would have known it at the time but 1984 was pretty much the end of New Pop. True, most of the big acts were still around but many were clinging to success rather than basking in it. The likes of ABC, The Human League and Madness began to discover their knack for top ten hits coming up short, their loyal and sizable fanbases still managing to keep them chart relevant. Pin-ups Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet found themselves drifting creatively, the former trying a bit too hard to keep things fresh while the latter nosediving into a formulaic funk. Culture Club was no longer able to tap into the zeitgeist and began to look daft. Wham! were at their commercial apogee but at the expense of the luxurious, proletarian charm of their earlier work. Only Frankie Goes to Hollywood proved capable of combining chart dominance with cultural relevance and an ability to get people talking — and they were soon to implode too.

It's fitting, then, that the year closes out with new pop's last hurrah. Had the combined affects of the Ethiopian Civil War, famine and drought not happened, we would have had two main contenders for the Christmas number one both from Britain's pop boom. A maturing Wham! on one side and Frankie Goes to Hollywood, the most shocking mainstream British group since the Sex Pistols, on the other. Both were then riding a wave of massive success and both did so coming out of gay culture. Where George Michael and Andrew Ridgely were moving in the direction of old school Motown and soul, Holly Johnson and his chums used the tabloids and kiddy pop mags (such as ver Hits) in equal measure to stir things up and get noticed. It must've helped that the records were decent too. 

Coming in on the heels of the mega-success of "Relax" and "Two Tribes", "The Power of Love" is often forgotten or mentioned as little more than the song that gave the group their third number one on the bounce. Those that have discussed it typically bring up its stately nature which flew in the face of its predecessors; the only thing shocking about it was that it didn't shock anyone. Lesley White expresses relief that they chose to "take a welcome break from the cynical business of controversy-stirring to deliver a tender little love song" and is impressed that Holly Johnson "bust[s] a gut to sound achingly sincere". This is true but perhaps they were going for a bit of subtlety for once. That the song opens with a promise to "protect you from the Hooded Claw" indicates that we're not so far from the absurd and a later invocation to "flame on burn desire / love with tongues of fire" betrays the overall piety, particularly alongside the more-than-a little-camp nativity scene depicted in the video. Love and lust complimenting each other, just as the baby Jesus would have wanted. 

Rather surprisingly, "The Power of Love" isn't belittled as a cynical holiday cash-in. The fact that Christmas isn't mentioned probably helps but that also hinders its subsequent status as a festive favourite thirty-five years on. Sure, it still appears of UK-centric Christmas compilations but frequently as an add-on, a reminder of just what Band Aid and Wham! had to try to overcome. It may light up a wedding, get everyone crying at a funeral or put a pair of lovers in the mood for a little sexual congress but it doesn't get you in the Christmas spirit. Few songs do.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Wham!: "Last Christmas"

Far more of a seasonal favourite than "The Power of Love", "Last Christmas" lost the battle (although that ended up being to Band Aid, Frankie's hit having already peaked and fallen by Christmas Day) but ended up winning the war as it is now effectively a modern day Christmas carol - not to mention a much more likely candidate for an interpretation by Des O'Connor. As always, it is beautifully sung by George Michael but sadly free of humour, setting a worrying precedent for the singer's upcoming solo career. (I'm well-aware that it wouldn't have achieved classic status had the song's story of returning love the way others might return a gift on Boxing Day had been comically built upon but that's the kind of sucker for silly seasonal tunes I am) Again, not one for getting me into the spirit of Christmas but effective for winding the holidays down: belly stretched to its limits and in that woozy haze of too much turkey and wine and a family member says, "well, that's it for another year" and you get all maudlin and "Last Christmas" becomes the song you've got to have on.

Roman Holliday: "Don't Try to Stop It"

23 June 1983

"Very lively, a good summer record and, with the right breaks, it should be a big hit."

— George Michael

"It sounds like a sophisticated JoBoxers."

— Andrew Ridgely

The lads from Wham! are in the singles reviewer's chair this fortnight and they don't exactly kill it like Gary Kemp a couple issues back. Dragged down a bit perhaps by an uninspiring bunch of records, the pair don't seem to have much to say. In keeping with their group dynamic of one member doing vocals, music, writing and production and the other seemingly content to be a mate and look the part, George Michael takes the lead with the bulk of the little analysis offered up. For his part, perennial other one Andrew Ridgely does trot out the odd perceptive remark (his comment above comparing Roman Holliday to JoBoxers is the closest thing to a fascinating observation) but is otherwise consigned to the background. Good to know that Wham! could never stop being Wham!

We're a long way off from the starkly serious George Michael — not to mention the equally starkly serious facial hair that accompanied his metamorphosis — that pop music fans would eventually become all-too familiar with but we're already seeing a figure in dire need of a sense of humour. He also shows signs of a sizable rock star ego. Unable at times to put the records he's been tasked with first, he says of heavy metal that its one saving grace is that the "attitudes that go with it are far less dangerous than the elitism I bump into once or twice a week at London's trendier nightclubs". Of the sleeve of "Disco Bond" by The Frank Barber Orchestra, he points out that "if I were the sexist pig I've been accused of being, I'd probably say that the only decent thing about this record are the tasty birds on the cover". He's far from the worst offender in this regard but it's a bit sad seeing him make much of this review about himself.

Some records may have a lot going on in their favour yet still manage not to deliver much. Roman Holliday ably merge their obvious debt to fifties doo-wop and rock 'n' roll with post punk soul and touches of ska but they fail to convince in doing so. Their Peel session from a year earlier isn't really to my taste but their strict reliance on older styles feels much more comfortably in their element. Hardly tipped for a ride on the Giddy Carousel of Pop but it's easy to imagine them being good fun as a live act. (In the wacky video for "Don't Try to Stop It" they finish up their hectic day with a gig for some senior citizens which makes me wonder if they were nodding towards older audiences being better at appreciating their swing pop sound) It's hard to imagine what else backers John Peel and The Clash's Mick Jones saw in them otherwise. 

Good, throwaway fun for some, "Don't Try to Stop It" got some of the breaks that Michael had hoped for as it landed in the Top 20. Despite putting their very youthful-looking vocalist Steve Lambert on the cover later in the year, Roman Holliday were pretty much one and done, the follow-up, "Motormania", "enjoying" just a cup of coffee in charts. Novelty songs can have that effect. On the bright side, at least they could go back to being a real group again. You know, like Wham!

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

David Sylvian & Ryuichi Sakamoto: "Forbidden Colours"

One of many collaborations between the former leader of new romantic act Japan and the far east's foremost purveyor of eighties' pop, "Forbidden Colours" is from the British-Japanese film Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence and is described by Michael as a "film theme rather than a song" (as well as "pleasant enough background music": cheers for that Ridges). It could simply be its place in the context of picture about British prisoners of war kept by the Japanese but Sylvian and Sakamoto succeed at bridging troubled cultural differences where Bowie — also, fact fans, one of the stars of this very same movie, strange they didn't have him contribute to its soundtrack...or is it? — did so with charm but little substance on "China Girl". (Mind you, he did get all rumpo with an Asian girl on a beach in the video so you can't say he wasn't doing his part too) A gorgeous song in which Sylvian nicely balances the emotion and restraint, this should have been this issue's runaway SOTF. 

Wham!: "Wham Rap! (Enjoy What You Do)"

24 June 1982

"I'd be lost in admiration if I could find time to stand still."

— Neil Tennant

No one was to know it at the time but a pop music phenomenon and a major talent was quietly establishing itself in the summer of 1982. Wham! were the last of British pop's eighties big four to have a number one hit but the first to enjoy the modest status of a SOTF from ver Hits. While none were overnight sensations, Wham! had the distinct advantage of George Michael's astounding talent to help them avoid the creative wilderness that hampered the development of contemporaries Culture Club, Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet.

While few were listening this early on, Wham! did have Neil Tennant on their side (who would later pen a sort-of tribute to the moody George Michael). While the pop music obsessive in him knew what a magnificent romp "Wham Rap!" is, wearing his critic's hat may have cottoned him on fast to Michael's considerable abilities and the budding pop star inside must have been jealous that these pretty boy nineteen-year-old's were able to cut something so irresistible and so on point at such an early stage.

Up until this point, songs about unemployment in Thatcher's Britain veered towards statements of hopelessness and hostility. The Clash's "Career Opportunities", recorded two years prior to Thatcher's rise to power, examines a wasteland of few job prospects out there for young people. XTC's "Making Plans for Nigel", while humourous in its own right, takes on clueless parents and government placement schemes assuming that their charges are indeed "happy in [their] work". "Wham Rap!" was an altogether different proposition. Thatcherism didn't simply cause thousands to go out of work but created a culture of permanent joblessness and Wham! were the first to capture this resignation while marrying it to a quintessentially eighties hedonism. Forget about getting a job, don't bother even if you manage land one, just sign on to the dole, collect benefits and enjoy your life. 

Wham! may have been first on the pop scene to make a virtue of unemployment but there were others out there with something similar in mind. The now mostly forgotten comedy Shelley was about a thirty something well-educated layabout with no desire to find work. (By the mid-eighties, this contented-on-the-dole mentality was even yuppified on the comedy-soap series Bread) In real life, meanwhile, a young and talented writer named Geoff Dyer was effortlessly making the transition from Oxford undergrad to the dole queue. ("If Oxford had given me a taste for idleness, living on the dole in Brixton refined it still further"; see his illuminating essay "On the Roof" for more on his period of being part of the "aristocracy of welfare dependence")

The very idea of George Michael kicking it in rap mode may seem laughable and it is. It's not unlike one of those shapeless, impromptu raps that adolescents in the nineties would conjure up for just for the hell of it (my own attempt was from all the way back in 1991 when I penned the immortal "Joys of Shopping", complete with "hilarious" verses straight out of a Will Smith lark). His music wouldn't be joyous for much longer so it's likely he never contemplated rapping again but it's a commendable one-off. (A white British pop act wouldn't be able to pull off rap until Neil Tennant tried his hand at it some three years later)

In researching this week's post I decided to google search 'songs about unemployment'. "Well, that was a waste of time," I said to myself five minutes after doing so. Of course there is a place for hard scrabble, all-American tunes about desperate individuals struggling to put food on the table but it comes from a world of the Dust Bowl and Steinbeck novels. Michael and best mate Andrew Ridgely both had their fill of plates of egg and chips but were determined to make life on the dole be the party that it always should've been.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Joe Jackson: "Real Men"

While George Michael was busy standing up for his (unemployed) manhood, Joe Jackson was questioning the very core of masculinity with "Real Men". Once a sickly youth who doubtless took no pleasure in mucking about in a rugby scrum, he was now ensconced in a New York gay subculture in the midst of enduring marginalisation, beatings and the growing AIDS epidemic and puts forth the theory that maybe these are the real men — if, that is, I'm reading it right. My song deciphering skills may not but up to much but I sure do appreciate Jackson's seriously good vocal performance, effortlessly spitting out bile and tugging at the heart all at once. Note: I'm seriously considering writing a parody of this written from the perspective of psychologist/YouTube superstar Jordan Peterson and his supposed crisis of masculinity. Anyone who can do good Kermit the Frog impersonation is welcome to get in touch with me.