Jukebox Junior: Playing records to a girl called Junior
http://20six.co.uk/doctortripswitch
powered by
20six.co.uk
|
|
Singles Of The Year 1985
[1] Prefab Sprout, 'When Love Breaks Down'
“Oh my, oh my – have you seen the weather? The sweet September RAIN…”
Prefab Sprout’s calling-card classic grabbed its status early. Relentlessly championed by the press (well, Smash Hits, at least) and the more easily-bruised indie pop fans for months, you’d have thought only some sort of treason was stopping it from topping the charts. The clamour of the sensibly-dressed, bookish, perfect-pop freaks finally seeped through to The Kids who propelled ‘When Love Breaks Down’ to No.25 in the hit parade at about the fifth time of asking. Ok, it was hardly the moon landings, but you take what you can get. Maybe everyone took something: the early adopters ended up feeling a bit dirty and the mainstream slightly redeemed.
The song’s an odd mix - it knows it’s good, but it’s coy about it. Shy, synthy breaths almost lifted from ‘O Superman’ combine with a forthright, definitive chorus delivering the last word on broken relationships. But whatever you do, however it affects you, Paddy McAloon says it’s ok. That’s what I take away from it. That, and the nagging feeling that the keyboard chimes sound as if they’ve flown direct from ‘Wonderful Christmastime’.
“Fall, be free as old confetti…”
Those stunning opening synth shards stop Junior in her tracks, and she stands open-mouthed, awestruck. That’s what I wanted. I hope she really likes some of this and doesn’t just act out a part, brainwashed by an endless barrage of music. We had a long car journey over the weekend, where it started to become clear that she’s learning lyrics to some of our favourite records – let’s hope she’s embracing them, rather than surrendering.
That’s 1985. It felt longer. I’ll leave the final word to someone we caught our first glimpse of last Thursday:
|
|
|
[2] A-ha, 'Take On Me'
They came from Norway, all rippling muscles, leather wristbands, unfeasibly bouffant hair and a cartoon video – eventually. ‘Take On Me’ endured a number of re-releases and re-recordings before it became a hit, but it hit big, it sold millions. Of course, in the bewildering UK, it couldn’t topple Jennifer Rush’s tour de MOR force ‘The Power Of Love’, but that histrionic number isn’t its nemesis here.
Video had power in the ‘80s, far more than it does now - now live performance is the novelty on TV in our crazy soulless times. Previously, only Wacko Jacko had harnessed the potential, bolstering the inconceivably large Thriller sales with the “I’m not like regular guys” (come on, Michael, you’re as normal as a three-eared dog) 20-minute feature – not to mention the bloated yarn of his ‘Say, Say, Say’ video with Macca, which was falling down the Top 20 before its premiere on Noel Edmonds’ latest Saturday tea-time wackyfest catapulted it into the Top Three. A-ha’s third swing at the chart with ‘Take On Me’ was accompanied by that rotoscoped video and telly loved it.
Shame on you (and me) for not buying this before the video made it unavoidable. It’s one of the most infectious pop rushes of the decade, all melody, inspired keyboard riff and breathtaking vocals. Obviously, Morten Harket was “gay” with a voice like that, but – hang on! – the girls loved him. Still going strong, the band will always be known for this and the No.1 follow-up ‘The Sun Always Shines On TV’, but the second and third albums were better. There’s not much wrong with 2005’s mature, yearning Analogue either.
She came from South West London, all chubby limbs, denim skirt and unfeasibly bouffant hair. She danced with the baby with the pink hat, and gave Dad the squashy one to do the same. Even with gorgeous, urgent pop like this playing, it was more important to put on socks.
|
|
|
[3] The Smiths, 'How Soon Is Now?'
The Smiths’ brooding, hesitant masterpiece started out as one of ‘William, It Was Really Nothing’’s b-sides before re-surfacing in its own right after the low mumble of indie kid demand finally wore Rough Trade down. That, or Johnny Marr wanted the world to marvel at his versatility – now he puts it to quirky use with the unspeakably irritating Modest Mouse. Go back to Mozzer, Johnny, or Matt Johnson at least. Or Barney Sumner. Maybe not The Healers, though.
Junior found the throw-your-doll-into-the-air groove behind the menace, the ecstatic twirl behind the woe. She shows a satirist’s knack of puncturing any bombast, or perhaps it’s just a clown’s unerring ability to ruin the moment. Either way, this has never sounded so chirpy.
This and ‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’ are the true core of the Morrissey-as-sourpuss persona, beloved of Smash Hits and, well, everyone, let’s face it. “.. And you leave on your own, and you go home and you cry and you want to die” is almost funny – it is funny, and Moz deadpans it splendidly. The real power’s in the tremolo, leaving the song teetering, ever teetering on the edge of… of…
.. ‘Hippychick’.
|
|
|
[4] Scritti Politti, 'The Word Girl'
About 450 reviews down the line, and Jukebox Junior is repeating a record for only the third time – take note, BBC. We’ll never run out, what with pop forever evolving, sprouting new wings (manufactured and organic) and constantly fashioning new surprises with the same old tools. Isn’t it just great?
The white man cannot dance to reggae. He just bobs up and down, flexing his knees slightly off the beat. Junior parodied this to devastating effect – I think it was a parody; either that, or a reggae lope hits a frequency targeted at the knees. It would explain the embarrassing trustafarian twerps at a million student discos over a million pretending-to-like-Lee-Perry years. Green Gartside isn’t embarrassing because he was using dub rhythms to explain higher futurist concepts and the metatextual understanding of self – probably. Yep, he was cleverly railing (as much as you can rail with such sugary tones) against the appropriation of “girl” in, yes, a million pop songs. Whether you buy into the idea that it undermines the person or not – and perhaps we should – it’s a pristine, delicate, mannered yet smart love song that hit the Top 10. Quite a feat.
|
|
|
[5] Win, 'You've Got The Power'
Formed from the ashes of the Fire Engines, Davey Henderson’s Win found a sound none-more-bubblegum. They were sticky, gaudy, tooth-rotting and, yep, pink. And if you swallowed them, you’d die. Or something. They were also Scottish, acerbic and deeply funky – but none of that fits the already stretched analogy.
They were also resolutely hitless, which seemed so wrong for such an obviously commercial and pop-worshipping outfit that it must have been some sort of crime. ‘You’ve Got The Power’ is doubtless best known as a theme to an 80s McEwan’s ad – possibly featuring boulders; it’s been a while – and well known to seasoned indie watchers as one of those records tirelessly re-released until inevitable chart success embraced it. Sadly, it was evitable. Maybe a public that bought ‘Easy Lover’ in droves was never going to open its arms to Win’s cheeky lip curls and Chic-ier guitars.
However quirky your tastes, however bloody-minded your devotions, it’s nice if someone shares them. Junior at least humoured me – and maybe really enjoyed herself – with some crazy dancing to Win’s whip-crack snares and thumped chords. We bonded then. It’s that kind of great record.
Two albums later, with the 80s somehow failing to fall under his pop spell, Henderson was off to the spikier charms of The Nectarine No.9. He’s gone about his business there without trying to flog them to the charts – maybe that was just a 1985 thing. We’ve had ‘Kiss Me’ and this, flip sides of the try-and-try-again coin, and there are two more serial re-releases to come. One had to settle for fair returns, the other broke big. Really big.
|
|
|
[6] The Dream Academy, 'Life In A Northern Town'
Posh people have often found refuge in pop - Sophie Ellis-Bextor, Dan Gillespie Sells, Tim Rice-Oxley-Keane are recent examples of stars with greedy names – and here’s Nick Laird-Clowes and jolly good chums, with one of the wimpier records in the pop canon. It’s also one of the prettiest with the grandest of visions and a stately model of 80s big music ambition.
And what a sepia view of life in the North. I can imagine its clichés get right up the nose of most of the denizens of those dark, satanic mills, with their whippets, flat caps and mountains of greasy chips. “A Salvation Army band played… All the work shut down…” – it drifts by with memories of warm brass and rampant unemployment. As Kate St John’s lovely oboe insinuates through the verses, you can actually hear Laird-Clowes biting back couplets about “the salt of the earth” and getting change from tuppence.
In a beautiful switch, its “hey ma ma ma ma”s are now better known as the hook of Dario G’s Ibiza anthem ‘Sunchyme’. Sun? In the North? etc. Junior liked the chants, of course – something she could hang on to – but it’s probably the first time that anyone ran frantically on the spot to The Dream Academy, unless they were trying to run away cartoon-style. You wouldn’t need to run from this lot, too busy studying their reveries.
|
|
|
[7] Lloyd Cole & The Commotions, 'Brand New Friend'
You weren’t supposed to like Easy Pieces, the difficult second from Lloyd & Co – Rattlesnakes was the choice of the canon and EP was meant to be the letdown. I was about to argue its case here, of course, but I don’t remember much of it. ‘Rich’ was good but the singles underwhelmed, apart from the drum machine tick-tock and accordion warmth of ‘Brand New Friend’.
Ah, you can still hear Londonbeat cooing now, can’t you? That rasping catch in Lloyd’s voice is floating back into your conscious, and you’re searching for the deeper meaning in Jane’s turtleneck. And there’s that downhill slide when he sings, “’Cos it’s all downhill, now”. Subtle! See? He was always such a clever lad.
Forever playing up to the occasion, Junior had her nose in a book. Not Norman Mailer, though. I asked her if she liked the song at the end and she said “Yes”, perhaps keen not to upset Lloyd. He was such a sensitive lad before he moved to America and started smoking Lucky Strikes.
Speaking of Brand New Friends, Junior will have one next spring. Heavens. I’m slapdash enough with one blog, let alone finding time for Jukebox Junior 2.
|
|
|
[next page]
|
