Wednesday, 31 July 2013

Taffy 'I Love My Radio (Midnight Radio)

Chart Peak: 6

YouTube
Charted at No. 63 on 6th January, had reached No. 6 by 10th February. Taffy's real name is Kathy Quaye.
Another act generally recognised as a one-hit-wonder, although unlike Steve "Silk" Hurley, Taffy did at least manage a second Top 75 single. This isn't a song I remember from the time, and it's a fairly forgettable Italo-pop hit of the sort that was soon to be overtaken by house music. Kathy Quaye herself is probably British (though some sources claim her as American) but the track was written and produced by Italians; the stage name supposedly derives from a failed attempt to pronounce her real name. Of course, writing a song about how much you love radio to flatter your way to airplay is one of the oldest tricks in the book, and there are many other examples in the Now series. 'I Love My Radio' is most notable for the fact that a special UK radio edit was produced to replace "my midnight radio" with "my deejay's radio" due to the lack of all-night broadcasting in mid-eighties Britain. Perhaps they were worried that it would be seen as advocating pirate radio or something? I suppose it's of some mild linguistic interest that they ended up with the lyric "I love my radio, my deejay's radio", a phrase that a native English speaker probably wouldn't have coined, but I'm clutching at straws to try and make this sound interesting. It's an enjoyable bit of pop fluff, but no more, and anything but memorable.

Available on: I Love My Radio

Tuesday, 30 July 2013

Steve "Silk" Hurley 'Jack Your Body'

Chart Peak: 1 [2 weeks]

YouTube
Charted at No. 18 on 6th January, had sped to No.1 by 20th January where it stayed for 2 weeks.
A minimal note for a minimal track, but it hardly captures the impact this track must have had when it arrived at the top of the chart - the impact surely heightened by the fact that it knocked off 'Reet Petite' of all things. There can scarcely ever have been a greater contrast between consecutive Number One singles: The Prodigy deposing Robson & Jerome just under a year decade later maybe just about beats this. It was the first time house music had topped the UK chart and surely the most sample-based chart-topper to date. Mind you, if anything it looks even more impressive that the single entered the chart as high as the Top 20, since it can't have had much daytime radio play at first. I do remember hearing it on the radio, but that would have been on Capital, a relatively switched-on station in those days, and I'm sure it only forced its way onto the radio because it had been so popular. I wonder whether it's a coincidence that this is one of the tracks dropped from the CD version of the album, since it was obviously a bigger hit than many of the tracks that did cross over, or whether somebody thought the more upmarket potential buyers of a Compact Disc in 1987 wouldn't have been so keen on this one.

It must have been quite a culture shock when it first appeared on TotP - in video form of course, I don't think it really lends itself to live performance - because even this truncated radio edit is so basic and elemental. There's very little instrumentation, just the bubbling bassline (which I now know is the work of a Roland 303, not that I'd have any concept of that at the time), the lead line played on that higher keyboard that only distantly resembles a piano and the relentless beat. The vocal is similarly limited, consisting mostly of snippets from the three-word title phrase, repeated and looped in various ways. Admittedly, this would partly be the result of the limited capacity of samplers in those days, but there is something very bold about the single too, almost as if it's brazenly saying this is all you need to dance to, and anything else would be extraneous. Coincidentally, although I'd thought of that sentence some hours ago, just as I was typing it 'Teenage Kicks' by the Undertones came on, a very different record which John Peel famously said nothing need be subtracted from or added to. In another coincidence, my wife and I were discussing the early work of avant-garde composer Steve Reich, who was manipulating brief vocal clips into all sort of shapes twenty years earlier. It's unlikely that this was an influence on the Chicago House scene, or that any significant proportion of the people who bought this record in 1987 have ever heard of Steve Reich, but it's an interesting comparison and a lesson that different types of music have more in common than it might superficially appear.

Because I was only a child when this single charted, and have never had much understanding of club culture, I don't know much about how this plays out in the history of its subculture, and how original or distinctive it might have seemed when first heard in the clubs. But I do know it was important in taking the sound overground, and soon enough it was everywhere, variations of this becoming the standard sound of dance-pop for a few years at least. Even the former jazz band Matt Bianco were soon at it with the pastiche 'Wap Bam Boogie' in 1988, whilst Les Rhythmes Digitales made a much later explicit homage with 'Jacques Your Body (Make Me Sweat)'; Stuart Price went on to produce crowd-pleasing acts like Take That and the Killers, how mainstream can you get? You can hear traces of this in the early Stock Aitken Waterman sound too, and SAW staffers Harding and Curnow were responsible for remixing Chic's disco classic into 'Jack Le Freak'. Of course it also went on to pave the way for one of my favourite Number Ones of all time, 'Pump Up The Volume', so it'd deserve my gratitude even if I didn't enjoy it in itself. But the track's won me over as an adult, even though I tend to have a hard time with very repetitive music and songs that lack strong melodic content. Perhaps there's something in how elemental this is that cuts to the quick and impresses me - but I can tell you that the reason why I rated this deposing 'Reet Petite' as less dramatic than the Prodigy deposing Robson & Jerome in that first paragraph is because that was a much bigger variation in quality as well as style.

There is a funny little postscript to this story, though you may already know this. It later emerged that this single shouldn't have been a Number One at all, because the 12" version which accounted for a majority of the sales was actually slightly longer than chart rules permitted. It was recognised as a genuine mistake though and the published chart was allowed to stand. At least nobody missed out on topping the chart because of it; it would just have been an extra week each for 'Reet Petite' and for 'I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me)', the latter of which officially took over the following week and fortunately doesn't show up here. If I can squeeze in one more coincidence, that was another song John Peel said something memorable about.

Available on: ONE

Saturday, 27 July 2013

Communards 'So Cold The Night'

Chart Peak: 8

YouTube
Charted at No. 26 on 25th November 1986, had made No. 8 by 16th December. It was the follow-up to 'Don't Leave me This Way', the best-selling single of 1986. For the original version of 'You Are My World' check out Now 6!
That reference is of course because a remixed version of 'You Are My World' was released in early 1987 off the back of their breakthrough success. It didn't do that well, though, and 'So Cold The Night' remains the duo's only self-penned Top 10 hit. It still feels a bit like a cover version though. It doesn't resemble any particular song I know of (the falsetto vocal and parts of the melody faintly resemble 'What I Like Most About You Is Your Girlfriend' by the Special AKA, but not that much); however, the writing doesn't quite seem of a piece with the prevailing style of the time. Even the title is intentionally old-fashioned, and it's a song of longing of a kind you didn't often hear in this era, especially not combined with the rather voyeuristic lyrics that begin and end the song with our protagonist spying on the object of his "affections". At least Jimmy Somerville's vocal brings a vulnerability to the song that makes it sound as much pathetic as threatening.

Again, the track isn't greatly helped by the production, with what's presumably meant to be an exotic Middle-Eastern melody played on synths that make it sound like a cheap home organ. In fact, I just listened to the start of a karaoke version on Spotify and if anything it's actually better-produced than the original. Protip: do not attempt to sing this song at karaoke unless you're Jimmy Somerville. Still, it's at least more distinctive than Curiosity.

Also appearing on: Now 6, 8, 10, 12
Available on: The Collection

Friday, 26 July 2013

Curiosity Killed The Cat 'Down To Earth'

Chart Peak: 3

YouTube
Charted at No. 70 on 9th December 1986, moved slowly at first but then sped to No.3 by 10th February 1987 where it stayed for 3 weeks.
'Down To Earth' is kind of an apt title actually, you get a sort of culture shock with the segue from early-60s proto-soul to this slickly-produced blue-eyed jazz-funk number. Apparently, when Curiosity first began work on their debut album, Sly and Robbie were the producers, which sounds potentially interesting; but in the event they were replaced by Stewart Levine, who's also credited on two other tracks on Now 9, and lends the track a rather saturated tone with plenty of fretless bass - the sort of thing that was radio friendly between about 1986-8 but sounds curiously unengaging now.

Ben Volpeliere-Pierrot is obviously a good singer, although again the very smoothed-out nature of the arrangement is matched by his vocal, so full of elongated and elided syllables as to obscure not only the words themselves but any curiosity (no pun intended) about them. It's mildly catchy but not unforgettable; but the images it puts in my mind aren't of whatever the song might actually about, they're of a slightly smarmy salesman with overpolished shoes.

Also appearing on: Now 10, 16
Available on: Music Of The Year - 1986/Compilation

Thursday, 25 July 2013

Ben E. King 'Stand By Me'

Chart Peak: 1 [4 weeks]

YouTube
Originally made No. 27 in summer 1961, re-charted at No. 19 on 10th February and "501"-ed its way to the top the following week. It was still firmly at No. 1 in early March.
The otherwise impenetrable verb "501" is of course a reference to the use of this song in a jeans commercial starring Eddie Kidd, although to be honest that's not something I'd have remembered were it not in the sleevenote. I do remember that the song was used in the film of the same name, as the video that got shown at the time was the one made to tie in with the film, showing a 48-year-old King incongruously miming to the vocal he'd recorded half his lifetime ago, while Will Wheaton - before he became the world's most famous Google+ user - shows his dance moves.

A surprisingly small hit on initial release, 'Stand By Me' (written by the ex-Drifter himself with legendary writers and producers Lieber & Stoller) became something of a standard, with both Kenny Lynch and John Lennon having charted versions of the song as well. It's one of those songs that always seemed to have been around and I don't recall being especially surprised to see an oldie do so well at the time - it was in the higher end of the charts around the same time as Freddie Mercury and Boy George's retro covers and the re-issue of 'I Get The Sweetest Feeling'. The sound of early 1987 was, to a great extent, the sound of the past. It does stand out by dint of its understated production, even compared to the simple but boisterous 'Reet Petite'. There aren't a lot of instruments on there, but every one counts. Even the guiro. It makes for a very intimate atmosphere as King calls upon the listener to stand by him and implicitly promises to stand by them too. A song of strength and tenderness that deserves to be listened to more closely than I usually do, but that's the price of success.

I was quite pleased to find that Ben E. King (or Benjamin Nelson, as he was born) is still alive and continued to perform into this century. Of course the recording of  'Stand By Me' has now passed into the public domain, so those writing royalties are all the more important now.

Available on: Stand By Me - 32 Original Recordings

Wednesday, 24 July 2013

Freddie Mercury 'The Great Pretender'

Chart Peak: 4

YouTube
Following the success of 'Love Kills' and 'I Was Born To Love You', Freddie's new solo single is 'The Great Pretender'. The song was originally a hit for the Australian singer Jimmy Parkinson in 1956 and also the Platters later that same year.
So, Side 3 starts with another old song - it's a cover like the Boy George track on Side 2, and it dates back to the 1950s like the Jackie Wilson number back on Side 1. It's nearer in style to Wilson of course, being a doo-wop song; the Platters version is the true original (it was written by their manager Buck Ram) even though Parkinson beat them to the UK chart.

Back in 1987 I wouldn't have known the origin, though I remember it was a song I already knew and recognised as old. I was too young to wonder why he was covering the song at the time, but looking back it is slightly odd - the track wasn't from his solo album in 1985, and nor did it relate to his Barcelona album with Montserrat CaballĂ© later in 1987. In fact, the track didn't show up on an album until 1992's posthumous Freddie Mercury Album (it was re-issued as a single from that album and became a minor hit). With a bit more hindsight though, we know now that it would have been around this time when he discovered he had HIV, although he of course didn't reveal this publicly until the day before his death; his partner Jim Hutton claimed that he was diagnosed around Easter 1987, but presumably he'd suspected for a while. In that context, of course, the song of a man "pretending that I'm doing well" takes on a different poignancy.

Unfortunately, as a record it doesn't entirely work. Mercury was still capable of a belting vocal, but it's a bit of a mismatch with the song itself, which doesn't have the same bombast as a Queen original. He bellows too hard to make it plausible that he ever concealed anything. The production is a bit empty as well, and the effect is rather a hollow exercise.

Also appearing on: Now 10, 23 [both with Montserrat Caballé], 25
Available on: Greatest Hits III

Tuesday, 23 July 2013

Berlin 'Take My Breath Away'

Chart Peak: 1

YouTube
Charted on 21st October 1986 at No. 37, had flown to No. 1 by 4th November. It stayed at the top throughout the month and was still in the British Top 50 in late January 1987. The song was the love theme from the hit movie Top Gun.
When people talk about Giorgio Moroder, it's fair to say that this isn't usually the first song they mention, but he did indeed produce the track, and co-write it with his car mechanic Tom Whitlock. It must be one of his biggest sellers. I suppose the slow, reverberation synthesised bass line does hark back to his days as an innovator of electronic music, but it's somewhat concealed by the washes of fake-string pads and Terri Nunn's vocal, which expresses the sort of emotion that only exists in Eighties power ballads. I'm not sure whether any of the other members of Berlin even contributed to this track, but by the end of 1987 they'd split due to disagreements over their direction; other members apparently thought they were a serious New Wave band and didn't want to carry on in this direction. A Simple Minds-like breakthrough was not to be for them.

Nunn eventually took ownership of the name and tours with a version of the band to this day. According to their website they play the Mid-California State Fair on Thursday, and a new album is in the shops in September. I did actually like this when I was a kid (too young to see the film of course) but I think it was mainly for the squelchy noises. It's aged better than Mental As Anything, I'll give it that.

Available on: Top Gun - Motion Picture Soundtrack (Special Expanded Edition)