Depeche Mode: "See You"

21 January 1982

"If it doesn't make Number One, I'll write and complain."

— Mark Ellen

Letters

Smash Hits Letters

52-55 Carnaby Street

London W1V 1PF

£5 record token for the viewer who we take pity on the most.

~~~~~

OH LOUISE, won't you smile at me

Like that time in R.E.?

Miss Wickens spoke with scorn

Though she seem rather forlorn

Telling us to compose our own private creed

(Mistaking me perhaps for the Venerable Bede)

Then you shot me a glance

And my heart did a dance

But ever since then you just look away

Though my eyes, they refuse to stray.

You act as if you simply don't care

Of my heart, you just aren't aware

And that's why Louise, I really must speak

Because my will goes ever so weak

I swear I won't touch

I just wish to be with you so much

And now all I want is to see you again

Though I know not where or when

Maybe it will be over half-term break

When you're out for a stroll 'round Appleby Lake

Then you'll pop over to mine on Galveston Road

We'll listen to Altered Images and Depeche Mode

Maybe you'll even smile at me

Like you did that time in R.E.

Graham D., Cheltenham

Are you sure this Louise of your's doesn't prefer other groups? Groups that might make her smile more than once? Groups that do not make her look away? Groups that she'll happily spend half-hols with? Have a record token so you might impress her more. Just a bit of advice from one lonely git to another.

~~~~~

Q: IF THE members of Depeche Mode became members of MI6, what would they call themselves?

A: Basildon Bond.

Lucy, Torquay

~~~~~

WHAT A nice surprise to see the newly three-piece Depeche Mode on the cover of the latest issue of Smash Hits! My delight only grew when I saw that the wonderful Mr. Mark Ellen named their latest hit See You as his single of the week! I suppose I ought to be grateful that the Hits has finally started to recognise the abilities of Basildon's finest but I can't help but feel a slight sense of anticlimax: what took you so bloomin' long?

Depeche Mode have been gradually gaining momentum over the last year or so and it has been disappointing that the music press has ignored them up until now in favour of Haircut One Hundred and The Police. What do they have that the Mode doesn't? Do third form students jot down Sting's lyrics in the margins of their notebooks in the middle of geography class? Do the Haircuts inspire a dreamscape world of art, groovy people and philosophy? I think not!

Good job but try harder with emerging acts next time.

Nancy, Braintree

We imagine that Haircut 100 and Bucks Fizz inspire a love of pop music in people, as do Depeche Mode. But our apologies nonetheless. The next time synth-noodlers from an English New Town emerge from the shadows we'll be there. Count on it!

~~~~~

WELL DONE, Mark Ellen. You had so many good records to choose from. You had The Jam. Spandau Ballet. Soft Cell. Japan. Bow Wow Wow. I would've even accepted Hazel O'Connor for god's sake! But to pick those talentless turds Depeche Mode? I'll admit that "Just Can't Get Enough" was all right but all the pop flash they had has departed along with Vince Clarke. I can't believe you'd praise something so dull and lacking in merit. If they're light years ahead then I'd hate to see what's in our future. Thankfully they've had their last hit and we won't be hearing from them again, you watch. Write in and complain about that!

Richard Skegness

We'll hold you to that, Rich. Send us a crate of Skegness Rock to the address above if the Deps do manage to eek out one more hit.

~~~~~

I notice that Depeche Mode's latest single has the line "I know five years is a long time and that times change". With that in mind I thought I share my predictions about what the pop world will be like for them in 1987.

1) Vince Clarke begs his old band to bring him back. They only agree but he is relegated to being a junior member as punishment. His lyrics are even tweer than ever.

2) Andy Fletcher solves the problem of their dull live shows by frolicking about on stage like Heidi. Depeche Mode's popularity goes through the roof but he can never show his face in Basildon again.

3) Martin Gore discovers that he is indeed the genius Vince pegged him to be. His genius is for knitting. He revolutionizes the Irish wool jumper industry.

4) Dave Gahan becomes an even bigger pop pin-up than he already is. This, however, leads him more in the direction of pure pop which makes the group's old audience cross. Sensibly, he chooses the adoration of girls over students.

5) This Alan Wilder bloke eventually becomes a full-time member (even he has seniority over Vince!) but he quickly becomes the one no one knows anything about. Mums are over Britain reckon he's "dishy".

Dillon, Cambridge

~~~~~

DID YOU know that if you rearrange the letters of Depeche Mode you get 'Chop Me Dee Dee'. What a violent image.

Terry, Arundel

So what? If you do the same for Kim Wilde you get 'Wide Milk'. Toyah turns into 'Ya Hot'. ABC becomes 'Cab'. Duran Duran...'And And Ru Ru"? We've been struggling for an anagram for Dexys Midnight Runners. Suggestions to the address above. A five quid record token to anyone who can manage it.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Soft Cell: "Say Hello Wave Goodbye"

SOFT CELL'S records ever since "Tainted Love" have been missing something, haven't they? It's almost as if they've been incomplete. With this in mind, I have decide to try to improve on "Say Hello Wave Goodbye". Mark Ellen thinks the words are up to much and I think he's on to something. Starting with The Jam and Elvis Costello and working backwards from there, I'm going to take the lyrics of other songs and see if they fit better. Eventually I'll find something deep and poetic that works and helps to make it into a much better song. Then I'll send it to Marc Almond and Dave Norris, If they don't like it, maybe I'll record it instead. Who knows? Maybe I'll be in the pages of Smash Hits someday!

David G., Sale, Cheshire

We at Smash Hits salute your efforts David. The songs of Weller and Costello will be good starting off points but you may want to try someone a little older. The late John Lennon perhaps. Or Ian Anderson from ancient progers Jethro Tull. Maybe Ulster shouter Van Morrison even...

(Click here for earlier correspondence from ver "kids". They're largely the same only not as good. Not unlike if you compare Soft Cell's "Say Hello..." to David G.'s way off in the future)

Manic Street Preachers: "Stay Beautiful"

24 July 1991

"To some, this is a tacky attempt to hang their coat on the peg of 70s punk rock, to others they're merely a bargain bin Welsh version of Guns N' Roses. But as long as it's just as tuneful, cantankerous, boisterous, guitar-filled and jolly as this, then who cares?"

— William Shaw

ARE KIDS INTO MANIC STREET PREACHERS

OR ARE THEY HORRIFIED BY THEM?

Hailing from Monmouthshire (it's in Wales, fact fiends), Manic Street Preachers are the latest group of guitar gods set to conquer the charts with their latest single "Stay Beautiful". But we here at Smash Hits haven't the faintest idea quite what to make of them. Aren't they just an old hat rock group? Aren't styles like metal and punk meant for dinosaurs? And who dresses like these four blokes? Bitz has admitted defeat and we have found some youngsters to guide us through a band that is either (a) the future of music, (b) the sort of thing everyone will forget about by the end of the year or (c) somewhere in between a and b. Let's see if they can edify this bunch of old codgers.

Joanne (15), Walton-on-the-Naze

"Ooh, I like this lot. I think I saw them on the telly last month. The singer's dead dishy, ain't he? I'm glad he's not one of those blokes who works out too much and has lots of muscles. I like slim guys. This song's good but I don't think it'll be a hit. I don't think it's pop enough for the charts. If they do some slushy love song then they'll have a hit but I won't like them as much."

Grant (16), London

"They're all right, I suppose. I reckon they're trying not to be clever but they all went to uni so they must know more than they want us to think. I do like what they're about but the records just don't connect with me. It would be nice if they had a laugh from time to time. The best indie bands are those that have a lot of fun when they're playing. I prefer The Wonder Stuff."

Natasha (15), Hull

"I've never heard of them. It's not really my thing but I guess it's all right. You should ask my older brother, he might know about them. They don't shock me though. There's some people in the town square who are much scarier than this bunch. I wish indie bands weren't such snobs. I bet they're always slagging off Kylie but they love miserable groups like the Inspiral Carpets. Indie groups are all the same."

Tracy (11), Poole

"Do you have the new Chesney Hawkes? I got his tape for my birthday. My friend Jane went to see his concert but my mum wouldn't let me go because we had to go visit my nan in Reading. (Bitz puts the Manics on but Tracy isn't paying attention) Chesney has a sister called Keely and she's dead nice too. Did you know that his brother is also his drummer? (Bitz admits that we do know this fact before we direct the conversation towards the band that is playing) Could you turn that down a bit? I want to sing "The One and Only" for you." (Bitz proceeds to turn the Manics up to full volume)

Steve (14), Ambleside

"Is the drummer a girl?"

Francis (18), Leicester

"They sure put a lot of themselves into such empty material, don't they? I mean, some people I know think their lyrics are really good and moving but I think they just put a lot of passion into them. Don't get me wrong, their songs are exciting and I'm sure they're good live, it's just that it's not as profound or radical as they'd like you to think it is. Other people have said this all before and a lot of them have said it better as well. They do have some skill so they might get better. There again, we'll probably have forgotten all about them in a year from now. Not like Ned's Atomic Dustbin, they're built to last!"

~~~~~

A MESS OF EYELINER 'N' SPRAYPAINT!

Those are the tools the Manic Street Preachers use for designing their famous handmade t-shirts. (Well, maybe not so much the eyeliner) And this is your chance to win one! Impress your mates! Be the envy of your neighbourhood playground! Make your granny nervous! Manics James, Richey, Nicky and Sean have each designed a one-of-a-kind shirt that they have kindly donated to your favourite pop mag (ie this one). They won't reveal exactly what will be written on each shirt but they promise it will be something like FASCINATING (a good 'un!) or CHARMING (another winner!) or UNWELL (uh, not so good) or ATROPHY (?????). The band have also promised not to use any naughty language either, much to the relief of grannies the world over.

To win a custom Manics spraypaint shirt, answer the following question: what did Richey carve into his arm as a message to people who questioned him, (a) 4TUNE, (b) 4REAL or (c) 4TOPS. Answers on a Cornflake packet to: Smash Hits Manic T-Shirt Competition, 147 Holkless Rd, Orton Randgate, Peterborough PE2 SNB. Get 'em in by August 19 or you'll have to make your own bloomin' t-shirt!

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Shamen: "Move Any Mountain"

Simon (23), Croydon

"Nah, I don't wanna listen to no Manic Street Peaceniks. Why would you want to play a guitar when you can turn on a synth and let them do all the work. I got a band with me mate Jez. We're called Toe Jam on Toast but we used to be called Blu Tack Soul. Have you heard of us? (No, I don't think we've had the pleasure) We do big beats. I wanna sample some beats but I don't know how to work this sampler thing so I just do the sound of those beats meself, like this: umph, umph, umph, umph, umph, umph (Simon keeps the umph's going for much, much longer). Good, ain't it? My favourite record these days is this one called "Move Any Mountain" by The Shamed Men. It's got some solid beats. Umph, umph, umph... (Oh do stop it!) "I can move, move, move any mountain...": I'm gonna read those words at my wedding some day. (Er, cheers for that Simon. We at Bitz are looking forward to writing about the Toe Jams one day. Might want to give the name a rethink though mate)

Seal: "The Beginning"

10 July 1991

"He was at the George Michael party and I couldn't get over how big he was. That must be where his powerful voice comes from — the soles of his boots."

— Kenny Thomas

Kenny Thomas? Who???

There have been a lot of pop stars who've joined Smash Hits to give one off singles reviews over the years. Some did well, others less so but I have been aware of all of them. Until now. At first, I wasn't even sure that this Kenny bloke was a rider on the Giddy Carousel at all and that maybe he was a new face in the Hits staff. (It was only the obligatory photo of him holding a half-dozen records, making a face and giving them the thumbs down that clued me in) But certainly he didn't have the look of a pop star. In the past, a critic like Peter Martin tried to make himself look like he belonged in the pages of ver Hits; now, pop stars looked like they were more at home on the editorial board of a top pop mag.

The name couldn't have helped. When Bros emerged in 1988, the one member who wasn't a Goss twin, bassist Craig Logan, was almost immediately dubbed "Ken" by pop mags like the Hits. (Suddenly, Larry Mullen Jr. being "the other one" in U2 didn't seem quite so harsh) But where did ver Hits get the idea that "Ken" was that most generic of names to apply to the most generic of people? Ken Barlow off of Coronation Street? (Fittingly, the Ken from Corrie would sue The Sun for being boring) DJ Kenny Everett, yet another British pop culture figure who meant next to nothing elsewhere? Ken the longtime paramour of Barbie who no doubt had difficulty pleasing her? Nothing against the Kens of the world — I used to know one who was a sweet guy — but there's a reason so many of them are notable only for being so painfully Kennish.

Though she had been kicking around for almost the entirety of the eighties, Lisa Stansfield didn't amount to much until she recorded her vocal part on Coldcut's 1989 single "People Hold On". The DJ/production duo of Matt Black and Jonathan More had managed to make a star out of Yazz when she guested on their hit "Doctorin' the House" a year earlier and it seemed likely they were going to repeat the trick. The result was astounding: a loopy, irresistible house tune with the elastic voice of Stansfield commanding the top. It gave her a long sought after hit but in reality it should've performed better than number eleven. It was fantastic then and it remains every bit as great more than thirty years on.

The only problem was it proved to be unfollowable. Sure, Stansfield had bigger hits to come. "All Around the World" even gave her a number one smash in the latter part of '89. She would prove to be a reliable hit maker up until about 1997. But she would never cut anything nearly as good as "People Hold On". Not only that, it was a success that gave everyone the wrong idea that she was going to be a far more significant figure going forward. Lisa Stansfield seemed like the coolest person on earth for a few weeks there but it wasn't to last.

House producers have a way of lending out their cool to guest vocalists. One of the most striking examples occurred in 1990 when an obscure singer called Seal appeared on "Killer", the aptly-named chart topping single by Adamski. No, it wasn't credited to 'Adamski featuring Seal' or 'Adamski with Seal' or (mercifully) 'Adamski vs. Seal', it was marked simply to the alter ego of British DJ Adam Tinley. The guy singing on it went uncredited (at least for the time being). Though the public in the UK were made aware that there were two individuals behind one of the most striking records of the era, I was in Canada and only first heard about it from Now That's What I Call Music 17. Information was scarce and I assumed that this Adamski character had been responsible for everything. Whoever was behind it certainly earned every penny they made: "Killer" is simply one of the finest records of the era, superior even to something like "People Hold On".

Though the single-artist credit would cause a rift between the two, Seal managed to earn sufficient notoriety from "Killer" to launch his solo career. "Crazy" emerged and proved to be only a notch below his first hit. Listening to them both now, it's clear that "Killer" is the much stronger effort: not only is the music powerful and sinister but Seal's vocal performance is abrasive, confident and vulnerable. With "Crazy" it was as if he was left to his own devices and struggled a bit with it. "We're never gonna survive unless we are a little crazy" was the junior high school yearbook quote of choice that summer (at least for me) but in terms of profundity, it pales next to something like "solitary brother, is there still a part of you that wants to live?". Nevertheless, Seal's debut as a solo artist was excellent. Without an acid house DJ to work with, the former Henry Samuel smartly signed with the hip ZTT label, which meant that he had Trevor Horn as his producer. Though not as renowned as Horn's eighties' work with ABC, Frankie Goes to Hollywood and the Art of Noise, he still had an innate grasp of modern techno pop. Seal went from one cutting edge figure to another and this no doubt helped prolong his own cool factor.

Inevitably, however, it wasn't to last. The association with Horn would continue over four albums (almost all of which were given the imaginative title Seal) but his place as a leading figure in dance pop would vanish. In the UK, he would rack up five hits from his debut LP but in North America most of the interest centred around "Crazy". A rerecorded "Killer" returned him to the British Top 10, this time with Adamski's name removed in favour of the now more famous singer. As for "The Beginning", it makes more sense as an album cut, appropriately as its opener. The LP version is also superior to this single remix, which tries a bit too hard to get that "housey sound" that Kenny Thomas is so fond of. It's a good example of the sort of no-win situation artists like Seal can get themselves into: great singers become tethered to their vocals to the extent that when they try to do something musically adventurous, their singing gets drowned out or becomes an afterthought — but if we're not meant to be as impressed with his voice then what's the point?

"The Beginning" continued a downward trend of Seal singles. While "Crazy" got all the way up to number three, follow-up "Future Love Paradise" fell short of the Top 10, in spite of it being a strong record in its own right. People were buying Seal's album, which suggests that he was already cultivating an older audience than the pop kids who snapped up "Killer" a year earlier. Even with the aforementioned remix, "The Beginning" only managed to go Top 30. It no longer mattered that if he happened to be on the nexus of nineties' dance because people loved Seal because of that voice. (That and he looked really good) Good singers become victims of their vocals even though they owe their careers to them. I wonder how Kenny "Ken" Thomas managed to do with his?

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Guns N' Roses: "You Could Be Mine"

Rock 'n' rollers were finding themselves in a no-win situation of their own in 1991 — and this is still prior to the rise of grunge which uprooted everything to do with heavy rock. Their fast paced numbers (such as GNR's "You Could Be Mine") proved to be far less popular than their over-done ballads (like Thomas' fave "Patience" or the still-to-come "Don't Cry" and "November Rain") and yet it is those bone crunchin', head smashin' rockers that are the essence of everything they stand for. Getting a boost from the forthcoming and much-anticipated Terminator 2, "You Could Be Mine" was nevertheless a far more modest hit in the US than pounding hits "Welcome to the Jungle" and "Paradise City". Yeah, Thomas has a point that it gets samey after a while but I don't think people flocked to Guns N' Roses to be surprised — and in any case, given how they would fall off a creative cliff post-Use Your Illusion, it really doesn't seem so bad in  retrospect. GNR should've stuck to their boozy rockers and kept the slow songs to a minimum. But I would say that, wouldn't I? Girls would never dance with me to "November Rain", just as they similarly turned me down to "Kiss from a Rose". But I'm not bitter, god no.

Haircut One Hundred: "Love Plus One"

7 January 1982

"A band who'll have us all slipping into chunky knits and brogues before you can say Captain Mark Phillips."

— Ian Birch

Where do we go from here?

Nick Heyward's goofy yet handsome face ("Everyone keeps saying to me I look just like their brother") graced the cover of Smash Hits on three occasions. The first time was alongside fellow members of his band Haircut One Hundred just as stardom beckoned. A few months' later he had returned but this time he was on his own and he was busy formulating plans for further notoriety and success. It would be more than two years' later by the time he'd be back for a third cover and this time he was now searching for advice on how to move forward when everything had imploded in on him.

Nick Heyward only enjoyed a brief period near the top — and all at an age in which he may not have fully appreciated it. He was still in his early-twenties when he began to go down the dumper, a place he has managed to more or less remain in ever since. And, yet, he has maintained a career as one of pop's finest songwriters. Few have managed to reside in the dumper with their dignity still intact.

In a talk with former Hits staff members David Hepworth and Mark Ellen (who wrote the first two profiles on ver Haircuts in the top pop mag), Heyward has stated that he spent his youth soaking up musical influences, in large part due to his older brother's own pop music aspirations. From the boozy hard rock of Montrose and Status Quo to Yes's intricate progressive rock adventures, the adolescent Nick was open to all of it. Unwilling to disavow prog and jazz fusion, he found punk appealing because he was able to play it. It was then that he began tripping on some of the more musically accomplished new wave acts, particularly Talking Heads and XTC.

I previously had "Love Plus One" down as his own "Listen to What the Man Said" but I think that was at least in part down to the use of soprano sax on both. Yet, the Paul McCartney influence weighed heaviest on Heyward. His gift for ear-catching melodies could not have come from any other source. Yet, this song is very much an amalgamation of his myriad influences.

Recency bias favours the work of David Byrne and Andy Partridge of brainiac groups Talking Heads and XTC respectively. The former is especially identifiable with jangly guitars that also manage to stutter, the use of unconventional rhythms and Heyward spinning an oddball tale that we as listeners are convinced must have some kind of meaning precisely because we have no idea what he's on about. There's certainly more than a little of that in Partridge's work as well (this very fortnight also saw the release of XTC's lone Top 10 hit "Senses Working Overtime", a song which one would assume to be a father to "Love Plus One" but for the fact that the two are far too contemporaneous for there to have been much influence in either direction) but it's probably a little closer to the compositions of Colin Moulding, someone Heyward acknowledges as being a major influence on his bass playing.

Heyward tells Ellen all about his theory of the changing tastes of your average pop kid (basically, it's preteen Beatles and Monkees, followed by rejecting them in favour of hipper acts, then a depressing jazz phase and ending with being resigned to a happy life of yet more Beatles and Monkees) while bassist Les Nemes admits to massive funk influences while disavowing the latent Brit-funk movement. All seems well in Haircut land — even if there are hints that his bandmates are as puzzled as anyone over the those lyrics — but there are already signs that there may not have been the required group unity to ensure a lengthy tenure. While Heyward spent the seventies absorbing his older brother's record collection, Nemes along with Blair Cunningham, Graham Jones and Phil Neville Smith had their own interests.

Quite what the rest of them were into six months later is anyone's guess. This time, it's just Ellen and Heyward discussing the state of the band and plans for a TV series. All that knitwear and those boating jackets was still a part of the group's distinctive look but the singer admits that a change is likely in order for the follow-up to their brilliant debut album Pelican West. A major change was certainly forthcoming, something that, again, is just hinted at by Heyward's ambitions being far beyond the scope of a mere pop outfit. He doesn't come across as arrogant or spoiled by fame, merely a young bloke who is just interested in making the most of his opportunity.

Finally, Nick Heyward is on the cover of ver Hits to interview erstwhile punk and sometime pop star Feargal Sharkey. That's correct, he made the cover as a glorified member of the Smash Hits editorial crew. (In fairness, he did have more of a face for magazine covers than the former lead singer of The Undertones) Both had departed successful groups and were struggling with what to do next. Both, Heyward reckons, have battled with that whole 'next Beatles' nonsense which he considers to be a "kiss of death". Hits or misses, prolific pace or keeping still for a bit, he learns from the Ulster vet that there's contentment to be had in writing and recording.

Where do we go from here? If not necessarily in the direction of the career young musicians set out for then the sort of career that individuals can look back upon with pride. What I wouldn't give to have Nick Heyward's talent for just long enough to compose one song, even if it's a poor cousin of "Love Plus One" or "Tell Me Why" or "Perfect Sunday Sun". There's a reason people like Heyward make songwriting seem so easy — and that's because it's so damn hard for the rest of us.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Robert Palmer: "Some Guys Have All the Luck"

As I observed the last time I blogged about "Love Plus One", this fortnight's singles are a thin bunch. Not necessarily in terms of quality, mind you; there's a solid selection of XTC, Joan Armatrading, OMD, a post-Hall/Staple/Golding Special AKA and Orange Juice up for consideration. (I also hinted that Ian Birch made the wrong choice for Single of the Fortnight but pay no attention to what I used to think) Robert Palmer was entering his prime years of soul, rock, calypso, lounge and overall tastelessness and his cover of The Persuaders' "Some Guys Have All the Luck" is a good primer on his skills as a vocalist. Never an easy guy to sing along with and this is one of his trickiest yet. While a generation of nineties divas chose to both astonish and frustrated listeners by hitting single notes for as long as possible, Palmer unleashes his incomparable range here with soulful, Marvin Gaye-like passages through to his ability to munch on sandpaper in song like few others, Not one of his absolute best (it's no "Clues" or "Woke Up Laughing") but "Some Guys Have All the Luck" is a tasty thing indeed — and one that far surpasses Rod Stewart's unconvincing cover. (I mean, seriously, does anyone think that Rod is envious of anyone else's dumb luck? The man has fallen upward more times than he can count)

(Click here to see my original review)

Billy Bragg: "Sexuality"

26 June 1991

"His bonnet bee is buzzing about sex this time, brothers and sisters. Billy says: don't worry if you haven't got a body like Madonna because he'll like you anyway."

— Miranda Sawyer

The concert didn't get off to a great start. Coming on stage at approximately 9:00 PM, Billy Bragg didn't appear keen to be there for long. He zipped through a handful of numbers, not even pausing for between-song banter. His nibs looked distracted and his rather sloppy performance indicated that he didn't care. Then, a heckler emerged to save the show.

"These people aren't your fans", he shouted. "They're on your bandwagon."

Bragg didn't respond much at first. He simply kept on playing. But the disturber in the crowd wasn't going to let himself be ignored. With each number, our friend in the audience found a way to be offended. If Bragg played something from the recent Mermaid Avenue project, the heckler accused him of commercial pandering; if he played an old favourite, he'd sulk that the rest of us weren't around when they first came out. And, he demanded, what were these people doing dancing at a Billy Bragg concert?

"They can dance if they want to," replied Billy. "They can talk if they want to. This concert's for them".

The crowd roared with approval. At last audience and performer were seeing eye-to-eye. Bragg's patience eventually evaporated and the heckler was forcibly shown the door. His solo acoustic set ended well; after a short break, he was back out with his band The Blokes and they proceeded to tear the house down. What had started off as a by numbers show had come to a close with everyone looking pleased with themselves.

After the show ended, I went down to the campus pub with my friend Tasya. As she proudly looked at the copy of the setlist that she snagged from the stage, I sipped at my pint and wondered why anyone would shell out twenty bucks just to roast a supposedly favourite singer. Didn't he have anything better to do? What did he think he was achieving? And what was he doing at a Billy Bragg concert to begin with?

I had been a fan for about seven years at that point. It started off with "Sexuality". At first, I was into the catchy tune and I dug the video, particularly the bit in which he covers the first two letters of the sign for 'ESSEX' with 'SAFE' and 'NO'. I've always been a sucker for sunshine indie pop because of course I am. It was the song's message that resonated with me most though. Having been ostracized by a small group of so-called friends the previous year, it was welcoming to have a singer accept me for who I am.

Gay? No, I'm not that way inclined. But the fact that these people had a problem with it seemed to be reason enough to be rid of them. Even if I happened to be gay, what the hell was it to them? No matter my sexual orientation, I didn't deserve their harassment.

Luckily pop music wasn't going to turn its back on me. My modest collection of tapes had no interest in judging me, even if none of them were up to tackling my current state of angst. I was then listening to Pet Shop Boys and Erasure, groups with strong LGBTQ connections but they weren't in the business of addressing straight fans who were being wrongly outed at school. Few, if any, are.

Billy Bragg wasn't even addressing my predicament in "Sexuality" but that's how I chose to take it. Being sex-positive meant that it was all good, something I was already aware of, but I needed to hear someone state it. "Just because you're gay", Billy sang, "I won't turn you away": here was someone who was going to accept me no matter what, so to hell with those losers at school.

Bragg's 1991 album Don't Try This at Home has often been labelled as an attempt to make him into a proper pop star. With a full band, a selection of big name guests and goofy videos, it seemed like Go! Discs was finally going to cash in on their long term investment. To an extent this worked out: the LP sold well and some new fans had come on board. But to deal with gay pride was bound to be a risky chart proposition. "Sexuality" only barely outperformed his last real hit "Levi Stubbs' Tears"  when it had all the elements to possibly take him into the Top 10. If Go! figured they had a new pop star in the works, their protegee wasn't about to make it easy for them.

It was on a summer's night in 1998 that a lanky individual in his late-twenties went to a Billy Bragg concert. He was probably a decent enough fellow. I'm sure he could be a nice guy with progressive ideals that dovetailed with most of us who go to see the Bard of Barking. The only trouble was, he figured he owned a piece of Billy and could dictate just how he wanted him to be. He tried to stick around but he didn't allow himself much common ground, something you need to have if you wish to be a real fan of his.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Cathy Dennis: "Just Another Dream"

Miranda Sawyer describes this fortnight's also-rans as a "sorry troupe" and she couldn't be more correct. Alongside a down the dumper Bros and Martika, there's a bevy of no-names. 35 Summers, The Party, Subsonic 2, Paul Varney: not exactly a bumper crop of stars. (Dannii Minogue also appears but at least she was something of a hit maker, even if her singles were on the duff side as well) Cathy Dennis seems like a big name only she wasn't terribly big in her homeland despite a string of early-nineties hits in North America. I thought she was really good at the time though I wonder quite what I saw in her at the time. Her voice seemed really good then but, as Sawyer states, she struggles with a "nasely squeak". The song itself is nothing special either: Dennis would go on to compose far better pop songs a decade later but that's no reason to be curious about her own brief career as a starlet. Lousy and yet probably the second best new release this fortnight. The world of pop was entering a sorry state indeed.

Erasure: "Chorus"

12 June 1991

"More power to your perv-tights, "missus"!! (P.S. And it made the household cat jump out of the first floor window, nearly, and you can't say fairer than that.)"

— Sylvia Patterson

Gracing the cover of this fortnight's issue of Smash Hits is The Twins, an Australian sister act of Gayle and Gillian Blakeney. The not-entirely-ugly pair had been on the popular soap Neighbours which led to them getting signed up for a music career in the UK. While the likes of Kylie Minogue, Jason Donovan (see below), Stefan Dennis and Craig MacLachlan had all enjoyed some degree of chart success, Gayle and Gillian flopped. They flopped hard in fact. In a steady decline for nearly a year-and-a-half, the songwriting/production team of Stock Aitken Waterman had been hemorraging acts and Kylie was really their last vestige. Figuring they needed to roll the dice, SAW handed the single "All Mixed Up" to The Twins. Unfortunately, the combination an uninspired composition, a Euro-pop sound the once-powerful trio struggled with and some ghastly singing torpedoed its chances.

With The Twins getting an undeserved Hits cover, Erasure were once again denied the chance to finally grace the front of the magazine themselves. In the five years since "Sometimes" broke them in the UK, the likes of Nick Kamen, Nick Berry, Pepsi & Shirlie, Philip Schofield (three times!), Sinitta, Halo James, Candy Flip (twice) and Gazza all graced the front of the top pop mag. Between them, these seven acts had nineteen Top 40 hits; Erasure had have thirty-five. (The duo would remain a top pop act for the next three years but coming changes at ver Hits meant that Christian Slater and the cast of Beverly Hills, 90210 would become preferred cover stars at the expense of actual pop groups)

I've written before that Erasure were the last major synth-pop group but this depends on how one would go about defining the term 'major'. They had seventeen Top Ten hits and five of their albums went to number one in the UK so they were hardly a minor act. Yet, they had trouble avoiding the 'also-ran' tag. Pet Shop Boys, their closest competitors, were bigger around the world and they seemed to matter to people more. Label mates Depeche Mode weren't hit makers on nearly the same level but they, too, outstripped them internationally and they had indie cred. So did New Order, whose legacy was already immense. All three synth acts had also been seminal at some point, as were The Human League, OMD and Soft Cell. But Erasure? They just never seemed as important as their synth-pop brethren.

There was also the problem of consistency — specifically, their lack of it. Though mostly a singles band (it's still hard to believe they had so many chart topping albums considering what a mixed bag their LP's are), their 45's didn't always hit the mark. On 1989's very patchy Wild!, for example, there's one absolute belter ("Blue Savannah"), another one that's quite good ("Drama") and two more that just go through the motions ("You Surround Me", "Star"). '88's mighty The Innocents produced two bangers ("Ship of Fools", "A Little Respect") and another that was just all right ("Chains of Love").

Returning swiftly in '91, Andy Bell and Vince Clarke were back (BACK!!) with some of their strongest material to date. The four singles were all top notch and the Chorus album would prove to be one of their better long players. (Ver Hits' Johnny Dee was less impressed, arguing that much of it sounded like "frightening techno muzak they play in McDonald's to make you eat your cheeseburgers quicker") Overall, it's probably a notch below both The Innocents and their self-titled 1996 release (ie the first one in ages not to got to number one) but it's still a quietly brilliant work. But even Erasure's best albums weren't especially essential affairs: you could always enjoy the hits if you couldn't be bothered with the LP.

First up was the title track and it's as great as anything they've ever done. The song's first half is seemingly as repetitive as "Stop!" until the bridge kicks in ("Holy Moses, our hearts are screaming...") which then gives way to another bridge ("The sunlight rising over the horizon..."). If the standard verse-chorus was thrilling enough (and it is), its these sections that put it over the top. And then there's Clarke putting away his acoustic guitar. I don't know, sometimes that strumming can be just the thing an Erasure song needs it's not what we were there for. "Chorus" opens some computerized notes and electronics are what the listener is treated to throughout — and it paid off. At last they had a single that was as good as "Don't You Want Me", "Tainted Love" and "West End Girls". (Sadly they were unable to repeat the chart topping success of those singles; the public, as ever, was much more willing to take a punt on drippy love songs)

Sylvia Patterson suggests that "Chorus" might have something to do with the environment. Its chorus does go on about covering up the sun, birds flying away and the fish going "to sleep" so she may be on to something but who's to say? Bell has always liked spouting indecipherable philosophical lyrics; the more difficult to pull apart the better, in fact. It could be all about their ecological concerns or about some of Bell's patented overwrought heartbreak or it could be just yet more or his nonsense set to a blistering techno-pop tune. Whether meaningful or meaningless, Bell had the voice to pull it off

Erasure always seemed like a group that everyone 'quite liked' but was nobody's favourite. While they may not have inspired the devotion that fans had for Depeche Mode, New Order and Pet Shop Boys, they managed to avoid the backlash that the others occasionally faced or were visible enough that they weren't easily forgotten about. They somehow toed the line between prominence and obscurity into over a decade of hit singles and best selling albums. They weren't as big or as important or as seminal as their contemporaries but they continued to be Erasure, a band who were sometimes great, typically reliable and seldom boring. What more could they have done?

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Jason Donovan: "Any Dream Will Do"

Some broke away from the Stock Aitken Waterman hit factory in order to assert their creative independence; Jason Donovan wasn't one of them. No one leaves one restrictive media empire for an even bigger restrictive media empire thinking that their artistic vision had any kind of hope. Then again, Jase never gave anyone the impression he had an artistic vision to begin with. You would at least expect the jump from SAW to Andrew Lloyd Weber's inner circle would've resulted in better "sounding" records but "Any Dream Will Do" is as cheap as they come. As Patterson says, it's distressingly superior to the detritus Pete Waterman had been flinging his way (possibly his best single since "When You Come Back to Me") but this wasn't saying much. Though it would spent a fortnight at number one, it would quickly become overshadowed by the single which would usurp it. It's one you might know.

Lenny Kravitz: "It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over"

29 May 1991

"He's sort of stolen lots of bits and pieces from other people and put them together to create his own sound."

— Dannii Minogue

One of the less commonly known Hits-isms is to be "in reception". I do not have the time or patience to see if it ever got printed in the top pop mag but it was a used by Hits staff as shorthand for desperate pop types who weren't going to wait for the press to call them, they were going to call upon them instead. Miranda Sawyer explained that being "in reception" meant that whoever was waiting there wasn't worth bothering with. It was the preferred location of the likes of Sinitta and Dannii Minogue. (Hits staff became so cynical about someone being "in reception" that one day they neglected to notice that Morrissey was paying them a visit!)

Pop stardom seemingly came easy to Kylie but her younger sister had to work for it. Not, mind you, by crafting a series of nifty records or working on her vocals but by being as shameless a pop shill as one can imagine. She was "in reception" enough to get her face on the cover of three separate issues of ver Hits in 1991 alone. With Hits staff having better things to be getting on with, she even got drafted in to sift through the singles — and, by the standard of your average pop star "in reception", she doesn't mess it up.

She's dealing with an odd assortment of "new" releases, some of which aren't new at all. The use of oldie "Should I Stay or Should I Go" in a Levi's advert took it to number one which resulted in a newfound interest in The Clash; "London Calling", title track from their classic 1979 double album, was their third (and final) re-release of the year. Oliver Stone's biopic The Doors starring Val Kilmer ("more Van than Jim", as Q Magazine drolly observed) was on its way and their American chart topper from way back in 1967 was put out to promote it, giving them a belated hit with a song that somehow didn't catch on the UK the first time round. Finally, a supposed remix of Madonna's "Holiday" was given a second life, which was a tacit acknowledgement that Madge wasn't what she once was.

Still, Madonna wasn't the only one delivering subpar work at the time. Pet Shop Boys' "Jealousy" is a great song and an outstanding closer to their masterpiece Behaviour but there was no need for it to be a single in the spring of '91. The once great Deacon Blue had fully embraced middle-of-the-road tedium with, again, a single no one asked for. Gloria Estefan had given up on entertaining people in favour of depressingly trying to inspire them. And who else? Feargal Sharkey? Pass. Kim Appleby? Nah. Living Color? Uh, no. Dannii's old chum and future "charismatic" Christian leader Mark Stevens? No, I don't think we'll be doing that, Let's just jump ahead to the only rock star of the age who still made kids want to be rock stars, even those who were already having hits of their own.

Young and impressionable pop types tend to look up to their betters. Late-eighties' pop was full of artists who worshiped Prince; it mattered little that they couldn't demonstrate an iota of the purple one's creativity or even copy his sound all that well, the important thing was that they had good taste. With post-Batman Prince not being much in the way off "cop", there was room for another pop-rock god for pin up stars of the era to hold in high esteem. A few years' earlier it might have been Guns N' Roses or Terence Trent D'Arby but in 1991 there was really only one act who could reliably fill the void: Lenny Kravitz.

Lisa Bonet's soon-to-be ex has already appeared in this space, from an issue of Smash Hits less than two months' before this one. Then, he was given a "prized" Single of the Fortnight by up and coming star Chesney Hawkes, a youngster of about the same age as Dannii Minogue. While the Aussie singer gushes about equally about the record and his nibs, Hawkes is far keener to wax about Kravitz himself ("What a dude. What a cat"). The two clearly idolize Lenny. They both were pursuing conventional pop careers but there's the sense that they yearned to be earning it the way he seemed to be.

Hawkes had apparently been chuffed about previous single "Always on the Run" but it didn't catch on enough to reach the Top 40. There were no similar difficulties this time as "It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over" came just shy of the Top 10. Minogue reckons it's "pretty mellow" for him but she likes it all the same and, indeed, so did quite a few other people. As I said a few weeks earlier, he would've done better reversing the order of release of these two singles. "Always..." did little to pave the way for "...Over..." and it probably stood a better chance of riding the coattails of it into a respectable Top 30 placing of its own had it come out second.

The one thing "Always..." has going for it is that it hides its influences a bit better. On ",,,Over...", however, it's easy to agree with Minogue's observation above. Doing his best Marvin Gaye and with an elegant string section on hand, he's paying tribute to Philly soul. Yet, the Beatle-esque melody and use of a sitar confirm that he's borrowing as liberally as she suggests. This also hints that not only was it important for pop stars to have good taste in music but for their heroes to be similar. Liking Prince meant you had good taste but liking Kravitz meant he had good taste.

"It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over" sure seemed to be a brilliant record when it came out in the spring of 1991. Not so much now, mind you. There's nothing particularly wrong with it but it certainly doesn't seem as spellbinding as it once was thirty years ago. I don't think it has aged poorly per se, only that knowledge of older pop is far more commonplace nowadays. In spite of Dannii Minogue claiming that it was a mish mash of styles, it seemed to younger listeners that there had never been anything like it. And in a way, that's correct. Such studied, deliberate pop had never been seen before people like Kravitz emerged (at approximately the same time, a quintet in Manchester was ironing out their own sound plundered from vast record collections; they'll doubtless be cropping up in this space before long). It seemed like the coolest music around until I discovered Roxy Music, Curtis Mayfield, Chic, Burning Spear, Laura Nyro, Sly & The Family Stone, Joe Henderson and Emmylou Harris and others who valued true originality. At that point, who needs Lenny Kravitz? 

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Pixies: "Planet of Sound"

A "crock of shit" according to the lovely yet potty-mouthed Danielle — and honestly she's not wrong. Pixies have always been one of those indie acts that indie kids adore in spite of some glaring holes in their catalog. Peaking with the great Doolittle in 1989, they were still strong on the following year's Bossanova but the continuing lack of respect for bassist Kim Deal's contributions to the band left them increasingly at the mercy of leader Frank Black's madness. Trompe le Monde was by far their weakest album to date; "Planet of Sound" was representative of their gradual decline as they embraced noise over pop hooks and melody. The imminent arrival on the world stage of a certain Seattle three piece should have made the Boston scene irrelevant but love for Pixies in particular would never fade away. While there are reasons to hold them close to the bosom, there are an equal number of reasons you needn't bother with all but their best stuff. To wit.

R.E.M.: "Shiny Happy People"

15 May 1991

"Summer's here and everything's groovy."

— Mark Frith

It is a song that everyone allegedly hates. Michael Stipe supposedly can't stand it and neither can his bandmates, to the extent that they chose to leave it off of their In Time greatest hits album. Hardcore R.E.M. enthusiasts deplore it. Many of those who were involved in indie rock at the time didn't care for it. Critics who aren't Mark Frith say it's a blot on an otherwise classic album and, indeed, a rare botch in one of the more sturdy and admirable discographies in all of popular music.

I always feel that R.E.M. ended the eighties in a bit of a slump. After putting out four straight top quality albums, they began to slip, first with 1987's Document and then with Green, released the following year. The two are sometimes lumped together due to both having socially conscious material but their faults are in opposition to one another. Document has three brilliant singles — "The One I Love", "It's the End of the World as We Know It (and I Feel Fine)" and "Finest Worksong" — but many of its deep cuts let it down; Green, in contrast, has some wonderful album tracks but its singles — "Stand", "Orange Crush", "Pop Song '89" — are uncharacteristically weak. Nevertheless, their trajectory was still looking up as their records were selling better. After a decade on the fringes, word of mouth had finally begun to spread.

1991's Out of Time sees them begin to reclaim their lofty status as one of the finest groups in the world. Melancholy but catchy first single "Losing My Religion" was everywhere for a while; in terms of airplay it certainly seemed like a number one smash. A Top 10 hit in several countries, it got no higher than number nineteen in Britain. This may seem like a modest peak for such a popular song but there's a little more to it. The single remained in the Top 20's penultimate spot for three weeks and then took its sweet old time to tumble out of the charts. Meanwhile, Out of Time proved to be the chief beneficiary: it entered the album charts at number one and remained in the Top 10 for twenty-one straight weeks. Not bad for a group who had previously been bit players in the UK.

Out of Time should have produced hit single after hit single but in effect it resulted in only two hits anyone remembers. ("Near Wild Heaven" and "Radio Song" both made only brief appearances on the charts but, significantly, their third substantial hit of '91 was a reissue of "The One I Love", a single that ranks right up there with "Losing My Religion") Instead, there was just one more record to consolidate their position and it just so happened to be the most commercial tune they would ever craft.

Frith loves "Shiny Happy People" (I'm going to assume that he didn't grow sick of it within a couple weeks of this issue of Smash Hits hitting the shops and that it remains a firm favourite to this day), I quite like it but, as I say above, it has many detractors, including R.E.M.'s own lead singer. Over the years, however, Michael Stipe has softened his stance on it.. He has stated that it's one of R.E.M.'s "fruitloop songs" along with "Stand", "Pop Song '89" and "Get Up". What makes it superior to any of those efforts is that it isn't so damn repetitive and that it makes no bones about it being a piece of pure pop. There's no indie rock bullshit here.

This is where the naysayers miss the point. As an alternative rock group, R.E.M. weren't supposed to have a pop song in them. Those fellow "fruitloop" tracks off of Green benefited from having more musical muscle behind them (at least in the case of "Get Up") and "Pop Song '89" had that naughty video with topless girls but there was no hiding what was behind "Shiny Happy People". I didn't care much about college rock and it didn't irritate me. I even liked it a bit. Not as good as "Losing My Religion" but plenty good enough to have on and not switch off. Pop you don't especially need but pop you're rather glad to have.

But just who are these Shiny Happy People anyway? I remember hearing that it was meant to be a touching tribute to mentally challenged people who we may pity but who often go about their lives seemingly happier to be alive than the rest of us. Stipe has said that it was originally a propaganda slogan used to calm the masses down in post-Tiananmen Square China, a claim that I don't recall being made at the time. To Frith, however, they're simply "those types you'll see wandering around the streets this summer being friendly, giving big hugs left, right and centre and being generally amiable". This is the most probable interpretation. The lyrics are straightforward and minimal. If Stipe is feeling down then it's best he see some smiling faces to cheer him up — though it doesn't always work that way.

Released in May of 1991, it came out a little too early to really qualify as a summer hit. No doubt Britain was experiencing yet another scorching spring that got headmasters to decree the dispensing of blazers and jumpers from school uniforms and those maddening hose-pipe bans but I was back in western Canada which was entering a pattern of cool summers with afternoon showers at ten in the morning. A lot of the those nineties' summers were miserable so we needed shiny happy pop more than ever to help get us through them. Is it any wonder I was dying for some old school jangle pop, especially since I was fourteen and in serious need of curing some of my angst.

In the end even if you don't care for it, "Shiny Happy People" has its place. Hardcore fans of their's from the eighties hated it, likely viewing it as proof that popularity and being signed to a major record label had sucked the life out of them. And the band may well have agreed. Notably, R.E.M. didn't tour their first blockbuster album, promotion of follow-up singles was minimal and they promptly went back to various favourite studios around the US to record 1992's Automatic for the People. Not only had they returned with one of their finest albums but the material was much more serious. (The only two numbers that dealt in lighter matters — singles "Man on the Moon" and "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight" — did so with absurdity rather than cheeriness). Rather than doing a sprightly line dance, their videos were edgy and filmed in black and white. The album was even tipped to be a return to more plugged-in rock in the vein of Document, though this is something they would eventually decide to put off until 1994's Monster. They had indie cred to be worried about, even as they were set to once again become the greatest group in the world.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Massive Attack: "Safe from Harm"

Like Out of Time, Massive Attack's Blue Lines was a popular and influential album that failed to launch a half dozen or so memorable singles. There's a reason "Unfinished Sympathy" is the only song anyone remembers off of it. As Frith states, there's really no need for "Safe from Harm" to have been released in 45" form (unless it encouraged a few more people to go out and purchase a copy of the album, that is). In fact, it could have enjoyed the reputation as an outstanding deep cut — not unlike "Country Feedback" and "Texarkana" on Out of Time — but I guess being a quite-like-the-last-one-only-not-as-good hasn't really harmed its reputation. Massive Attack have had some glorious moments but they've also been ordinary and even awful at times. I'll go right out and admit it: "Safe from Harm" is no "Shiny Happy People".

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)

Banderas: "She Sells"

1 May 1991

"Verily, a song amongst songs."

— Caroline Sullivan

Though very much a product of the eighties, synth-pop at the beginning of the nineties did not appear to be slowing down, especially when it came to the big names of the genre. Depeche Mode and Pet Shop Boys both released their finest albums that year (Violator and Behaviour respectively), New Order recorded their sole UK number one single and Erasure were still riding the wave of hit singles from their Wild! album issued late in 1989. Sure, The Human League were faltering with the patchy Romantic? but it had been a while since they'd been at their best anyway.

As 1990 turned into '91, there seemed to be an even greater thirst for angsty, doomed electro pop. Erasure handed in their best album yet (happily, it won't be long before I can go on about the magnificent Chorus in this space), OMD were back and as good as ever and supergroup Electronic were more of a going concern with their self-titled LP and single "Get the Message". Greatest hits albums by the Pet Shops and Soft Cell proved popular, as was the collection from synth-adjacent Eurythmics. Fueled by a mix of irony and genuine interest, eighties nostalgia was already setting in and nothing said 'eighties' more than synth-pop. (It really says it all that eighties nostalgia commenced almost as soon as the decade ended whereas nineties nostalgia took over twenty years to become a thing)

One worrying aspect, however, was that no one new seemed to be stepping up. Late-eighties acts such as Information Society, Kon Kan and When in Rome all had their moments but soon began to fade. It took former members of another synth-pop group to give some fleeting hope to the idea that it was a genre with a future.

Caroline Buckley and Sally Herbert had been in the backing band of The Communards, a synth duo in a world of synth duos. Jimmy Somerville and Richard Coles decided to go their separate ways in 1989 and this opening left Buckley and Herbert to form a pairing of their own. But where The Communards, Pet Shops, Sparks, Yazoo, Eurythmics, Blancmange and Erasure all had at least one male — if not two in most cases — Banderas was an all-female two-piece. (Had anyone been worried that this arrangement would affect the classic synth duo dynamic, keyboardist Herbert fitted in perfectly with the moody Chris Lowe-Vince Clarke other member type)

With an arresting image (Buckley in particular really pulls off having a shaved head) and unique status as all-female, Banderas looked like a promising part of synth's next generation. (Though, in truth, they were no younger than pop veterans Erasure) Though it deserved a bit better, debut single "This Is Your Life" gave them a Top 20 hit in the early part of '91 and they looked to follow its success with more of the same on "She Sells". Not that the latter was just a redo of the former: where their first record happened to be dreamy, soaring and beautifully sung by Buckley, the follow-up proved to be darker and more aggressive.

Sounding not unlike something Propaganda would have come up with back in '85 — either that or a more sinister take on Swing Out Sister's hit "Breakout" — "She Sells" ought to have been a decent-sized hit. Sadly, in spite of Caroline O'Sullivan's glowing write-up, it just came up short of the Top 40. Had they been around four years earlier, it's easy to imagine it getting to a respectable chart position like number twelve ("This Is Your Life" would've been a sure fire Top 10 smash in this reality) with a Top of the Pops performance to go with it as well as appearing on a Now That's What I Call Music compilation. But timing is everything in music: the two-pronged onslaught of trashy Euro-house and earnest indie rock meant that new comers to the world of synth-pop didn't have the staying power of the core acts. By 1993, all that remained were the big names — and even they (Depeche Mode, New Order, Pet Shop Boys) would never be as popular from that point on.

We may bemoan the lack of prolonged success for Banderas but it's likely that they coped well it. The two were very down-to-earth with neither craving fame and fortune ("...I was walking around Sainsbury's yesterday and thought that if anyone recognised me then I would have to hit them," Herbert admitted to Smash Hits). Hopefully there remains a loyal following of Banderas backers to preserve the legacy of an unfortunately overlooked act, one that ought to have been held in similarly high esteem as all those angsty and moody synth-pop groups that came before them.

~~~~~

Not Reviewed This Fortnight

The Wedding Present: "Dalliance"

Reduced to the Also Released This Fortnight sidebar down at the bottom of the page, Caroline O'Sullivan for whatever reason didn't review this outstanding single from Dave Gedge and his Wedding Present chums. She really ought to have especially considering how subpar most of the new releases are in this issue. Nevertheless, "Dalliance" is a first rate banger, the sort of song that feels like it has existed forever even if it could only have come from the mind of Gedge. Starting off quietly, it gradually builds into a racket. They say rock music ought to be played at maximum volume but rare are those tracks that seem to get louder even as you turn it down. Gedge can't really sing as such but his voice is a thing to behold. There's desperation, desire, heartbreak and I can even detect some humour and irony present. I always forget how brilliant The Wedding Present were but being reminded of it is always a welcome (re)discovery. Not for everyone though I can't imagine why.