25 Years of Swygart - 1984 - Frankie Goes To Hollywood, “Two Tribes”

Well. It’d be fair to say that things done changed a bit. “Two Tribes” was the longest-running number one of the year, managing nine weeks atop (NOTE: having been born at the height of summer, there are going to be a fair few long-running number ones coming later in this series. This is one of the rare occasions that this is a good thing), but was still only the fourth-highest selling single of the year, behind “Do They Know It’s Christmas?“, “Relax” and “I Just Called To Say I Love You“. These four singles also wound up being the four biggest sellers of the decade. We’ve suddenly gone a bit big league.

And, well, what a bloody record, eh? The darkness in Paul Young was simply a choice of lighting; here, the darkness is all-pervasive and terrifyingly real. Both records are familiarly 80s in sound; the thing here is that there is no distance afforded the listener. With Young, you could hear that fretless bass and those synth waves and be safe, knowing this record was nothing to do with you, had nothing to say about you, said nothing to you about your life.

Frankie do not give you that option. Holly Johnson is a delighted spectator and ringmaster at the end of the world, weirdly reminiscent of Chris Morris or Barbara Wintergreen in The Day Today. Politics is treated as an entertainment, a part of the TV schedule to fit alongside Family Fortunes, One Man And His Dog, whatever fucking series of My Family it is that we’re on now. Remote figures slapping each other about for your entertainment and titillation. Johnson’s character, in his garish blazer and tie, oversees it all and places himself as your surrogate leader, allowing you to remain as spectator, to disengage brain and opinion and revel in the glorious spectacle of it all.

It’s that guitar riff: drama! A rarefied, stylised drama, beamed in from alternate universe of infinite glamour - a Duran Duran record, perhaps. Or Miami Vice. But a guitar riff born of fashion, of time and of place - crucially, none of which bear any relation to you. You can aspire to it, certainly, but you can never be of it because its entire point is to be Not Yours. The world is a place of entertainment, and you are lucky, yes you are, because it’s got nothing to do with you! You can fuck up as much as you want because nothing you do matters, because it’s all a bloody dream in any case. Those who have power live in ivory towers a billion, zillion miles away, and you get to watch and laugh as these ridiculous creatures shit and piss and fight and howl. Everything happens on television, a box to keep you connected to the world and to insulate you from it all at once, safe in the knowledge that none of this is really happening, or, at least, it is not happening to you.

“Two Tribes” retains its power because the attitude it taps into and brings to the fore is not one that can simply be cast aside like so many space hoppers and Sinclair C5s; it is a terrifying warning of the cult of passivity, of refusal to engage and to seize the power that you have as an individual in the world. They are not scaremongering, cos this is really happening. The constant chants of “Let’s go to war! Let’s go to war!” take the gravity of international conflict and turn it into slogans for soap powder. That guitar riff, the pelvic thrust of the synths and the bass weirdly foreshadow Sky Sports and the world of Grand Slam Sundays: “Let’s go to war! Let’s go to war!” Two countries enter; one country leaves! “Let’s go to war! Let’s go to war!” War is sexy, war is fun, war is a break from the ennui, it’s something to talk about when you go to work, it’s something to fill up the schedules during the slower midweek periods. This is war as news; not as history, not as reality, but as something that happens, is important for a bit, and then fades away again.

The depoliticised individual can treat it all as sport; the creation of a complacently apathetic society that is content to let power be taken from them, that refuses responsibility because it cannot be bothered, is the terror Frankie urgently point to here. And that’s still the case now, still the case today. All we can see are the shiny suits and the big, macho riffs that we can all point and gurn to, because history never taught us anything. It’s all just there for our amusement. It’s not like these tossers could even make it to a third album, eh?

If I were American, this would have been:

Prince, “When Doves Cry”. For some reason, Prince and Universal have refused to let this be put on YouTube, which is rather a pity. It has also de-prettied this post somewhat, so:

American Me: 1
Actual Me: 1

Other notable UK number ones of this year:

Already mentioned three of the other ones, but lest we forget, Frankie had a third number one too:

And that’s not too shabby, is it?

Oh, and there’s also “I Feel For You” by Chaka Khan, which is certainly not to be sniffed at:

And, following on from yesterday’s post, had I been born to coincide with “Total Eclipse Of The Heart” being number one, I’d have turned one to the sound of:

It’s fair to say I could have handled that.

So things have picked up considerably today. Can July 29th 1985 keep things going? Find out tomorrow. Or later today, more accurately.

25 Years of Swygart - 1983 - Paul Young, “Wherever I Lay My Hat (That’s My Home)”

Welcome to Hell, here’s your 1982 Subaru Brat

It perhaps doesn’t help that the only version of this I know properly is off the Trojan Sixties boxset, by Delano Stewart. Paul Young’s version is heaps slower, and makes the whole thing sound like a rather less emotional take on something the Blue Nile might do. It has not aged well, but I suspect that, even as I was coming out of the womb, this wasn’t much cop.

Hearing it today, I just imagine very, very slow montages of people in rain-soaked streets lit solely by neon, parting company very slowly, crying very slowly, staring at each other very, very, very slowly. The people in the video look they’re in some kind of film noir from the makers of Virtua Fighter, all planed surfaces and angles that’d have your eye out. It’s a visual illustration of the wider problem with this single - it all sounds far, far too deliberate, like the way Young sounds like he’s thwacking every word of the opening verse with his trailing leg. New layers of sound get added throughout, but never do they make the song any more interesting. A fretless bass goes a-wombling throughout, inspecting the mantelpiece, rooting in the fridge, absent-mindedly using the bathroom, and just generally being an arse. There is never the sense that this song is about anything, it’s just there to kill time until the next thing comes along.

Auspicious beginnings, then.

If I were American, this would have been:

The Police, “Every Breath You Take” - hardly an all-time favourite of mine, but stomps all over this. The snap into the chorus, the fact that the bass knows its bloody place and knows to stay there, the sense of moment… superior to Paul Young in more or less every regard.

American Me: 1
Actual Me: 0

Other notable UK number ones of this year:

Had I but been born four-and-a-bit months earlier, I’d have been greeted by “Total Eclipse of the Heart”.

It is my firm belief that, if that had happened, then everything about my life would have been brilliant. Plus I would have been able to fly.

I also wouldn’t have minded coming out to the strains of “Let’s Dance“, “Give It Up“, or “Billie Jean“, but I can’t say I’m especially regretful about being a week too late for “Baby Jane“. Dodging “Down Under”, “Karma Chameleon” and “True” could also count as something of a blessing, I suppose.

In general, though, I reckon I wound up being born to probably the most forgettable of 1983’s number one singles (apart from “Baby Jane”, probably). It managed three weeks up top, and I’ve not a clue how. Do things get any better as I complete my first full year of being alive? Find out tomorrow.

25 Years of Swygart

Yup, I’m turning 25 in 25 days time. To celebrate this momentous achievement, over the next 25 days I’m gonna be looking at the singles that the British Public chose to put at number one to mark the occasion, beginning in just a little bit with their selection for 1983. What did Britain think was the best way to usher me into the world? Find out in just over an hour…

Intermission

Back with number 13 in a tic.

14. Delta Goodrem - You Will Only Break My Heart

Goodness knows how old this chart is now. But never mind.

This ain’t the official video, but that wouldn’t embed. I like how the director here thinks Delta would be wearing a bikini rather than a pirate outfit.

But to the song itself. I’m going to stick my neck out and suggest that at least one Swedish person may have been involved here. It’s the Amy Diamond lope in the bass, the Marie Serneholt crispness of the “uh-ah-ah-ah”, the way those violins sound moderately ludicrous; it’s how “give you everyTHING” doesn’t sound like it’s giving you that much at all, it’s the tightly-controlled use of whistling in the chorus, the way it all starts sounding like a particularly campy Wild West musical at the end. It’s all done clean, but with a certain amount of love and class to the whole thing. They would like you to actually care about this, to get at least a wee bit enveloped by the whole experience. Delta strains and heaves in a thoroughly fitting manner (certainly better than Serneholt might have done, for instance), and you start to wonder if you’ve fallen asleep in 2004. It’s a very solid seven out of a very solid ten. And not a McFadden in sight.

Great Pick Of The Pops misspeakings of our time

“…at twelve, Spitting Image with the Chicken Sod…”

Top 40 Liveblog June 8th 2008 THEEE TOPPPE TENNNNE

10. WILL.I.AM ft. HER FROM GIRLS ALOUD - Heartbreaker

On its way out. Good.

9. SAM SPARRO - Black Of Gold

And you can follow it down, too. With your fucking groaning noises. “Mnrrm-rmmm-rmmm-rmmm” yrself, eh?

Apparently he wears suits. I’d not noticed.

Number One Anticipation starts earlier every year.

8. MADONNA ft. JUSTIN TIMBERLACHEN - Four Minutes To Bake A Cake

Why is it that the way Madonna mangles the ‘a’ of “paved” annoys me so, but when Sophie Ellis-Bextor does similar I am hopelessly charmed?

Ocker Cilmi is being interviewed now. For a 16-year-old girl, her voice is remarkably deep. Fearne has run into someone who wants to talk her ears off and is finding it hard to adjust. Fortunately, Ocker’s PR has given her a list of questions to ask. And there are a lot of questions. Anything you never had any interest in finding out about Gabriela Cilmi, Fearne’s asking it. I wonder if they’ve been mandated to make these links fucking interminable? Bloody public servants.

7. GABRIELA CILMI - Sweet About Me

Used to sing in a band that did covers of Jet songs. And Kings of Leon. She likes Beck. Good grief, this is the best thing in the top ten so far, solely because it sounds like they’re playing wooden blocks instead of drums. Oh, and there may be some glockenspiel. Things can surely only get better? Surely?

GEORGE SAMPSON UPDATE - they tested the fire alarm at the theatre he was in.

6. SARA BAREILLES - Love Song

It is indeed excellent how modern technology has got so good we can now make songs that really do sound exactly like they’re from 1994, down to every last fucking detail. I think I will perhaps not do this next week. Watch the football instead. Should probably have done that instead this week, anyhow.

Wow, this song doesn’t end any quicker the more you hear it, eh?

5. NE-YO - Closer

Further to the Usher-Chris Broon comparison from earlier - where does Ne-Yo fit in? Here we have a man who is clearly acting. He is throwing himself into every syllable so that you do not doubt that he is feeling it. He is a tortured soul, what with all these women offering him the sex, and he is like “Yes BUT WAIT NO but maybe BUT NO I AM A MAN WITH SEVEN ZILLION HATS TO FEED” and oh, it is murder for the poor mite. It’s just, well, a bit non-compelling, shall we say.

Still, top 4 now, which means we can only be so far away from ‘That’s Not My Name’. And now I am waiting for that. First, though:

4. DUFFY - War-ick Aven-oooooo

OK, I think my brain just went a little dead when those strings swept in as strings tend to do nowadays in that sweepy style that they are using with the sweeping and the strings and thezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

MUST IT ALWAYS START WITH “When I get to War-ick Aven-oooooo”? Dammit, it sounds so… patronising, like the song has to move along at half-speed lest you fail to notice it being a kind of central motif or something… Ah, she’s conviction in her voice, but the song is an utter, utter dog. The Ne-Yo song is now the best thing in the top 10 thus far. No, really.

GEORGE SAMPSON UPDATE: Everyone is loving him. Including Fearne? Oh, why not. If there’s an availability.

3. THE TING-TINGS - That’s Not My Name

Thank god, it’s not a record from the fucking 80s. Or the 60s. Or Will.I.Am. I mean, look at the rest of this effing list. This is actually bloody alive, y’know? You plough through this shit and you start to appreciate this, Estelle, Morrissey, Wiley, September, Chrissy Broon all the more - records that sound like they were made by actual fucking people, you know? Yes, the Duffy was made by actual people, you can hear the instruments, but those people were so hideously dull, hunting for the fucking vein that means people put it in the pantheon of Non-Degenerate Art, so desperately seeking The Right Answers… so horrifically concerned with being acceptable, and you hear them, and it makes little-to-fuck-all difference when you hear it, you just get deaderanddeaderanddeader with every spin, and The Ting Tings just make shit feel possible, yes? We ain’t bloody beholden all the time. Which is nice.

2. RIHANNA - Take A Bow

This feels alive, too, but it also feels a bit pointless, like some kind of off-cut, a B-side. It exists within its lifespan, and it all feels OK, but god does it take its one idea and drag it, and drag it, then drag it some more… man, I’m glad I don’t do this every bloody week. I would go fucking spare, I know it. Readers of the old Stylus shit may remember how pissed off I got at that LinkinParkAndJayZ record being at number 13 for like seven weeks in a row… and nowadays, that is every effing record. I have heard Sara Bareilles enough for forever, now.

And now Fearne is talking to George Sampson. Fearne thought he was brilliant.

George loves his fans. His fans love George. This interview is sounding remarkably short by Top 40 standards.

Not anymore it isn’t.

I suspect Mint Royale will not be asked for their opinion on getting to number one, which is possibly a first.

EXACTLY FIVE SURPRISES at the Britain’s Got Talent Tour! FIVE! Like eating five Kinder Eggs except with possibly slightly better flavour and less melting.

This interview will not end any time soon, will it?

Fearne officially hands over the rights for the song to George. Which is nice of her.

1. MINT ROYALEGEORGE SAMPSON - Singin’ In The Rain

’s alright, I suppose.

Still, apparently the football wasn’t much cop, so no harm done, eh?

Top 40 Liveblog 8th June 2008 20-11

20. PENDULUM - Propane Nightmares

It’s this drum n’ bass break in the middle. It sounds wipe-clean. But somehow… I am sort of dancing along. No, really. I need a bit of fuckin’ surge, it would appear. My foot is twitching and fucking hell I am NODDING! NODDING! The way it keeps losing its low-end is infuriating, and it’s still not anything special as such, but… I’m warming to it. Listening to the top 40 regularly - this is what it does to you.

Fearne’s insincerity as she reads out a list of emails or texts or what have you of people nicking celebrity memorabilia is kind of cloying. There was a trailer earlier where Chris Moyles had a feel of Mel B’s breasts.

19. FLO RIDA ft. T-PAIN - Low

Y’know how, when I do this liveblogging lark, clouds occasionally descend on me and I get very heavy boots? This week’s trigger is this bollix. Too many times. Too many fucking times. And how much chorus is there gonna be here? Too much.

I’m trying to think if there was anything I missed last post. It felt like some kind of theory was coming together in the middle at some point but I got distracted by some other shite, I dunno. God, the next record had better be amazing… what are the odds it’s gonna be Alphabeat?

END ALREADY.

END. NOW. God, this might only be halfway through…

Oh, it’s ended. Good.

18. TAIO CRUZ - I Can Be

Ah, yerra sweet lad, so y’are. Adorably rising, pulling, tugging at the ears. A marvellous sense of space and pace. Possibly the most under-rated song in this top 20? It’s easy to bypass, but it’s very, very good in its own little way.

Fearne loves OK Go. Fearne loves everything. Apart from Scooter. And Lil Wayne.

17. ESTELLE ft. KANYE WEST - American Boy

Finally listened to the album, only, ooh, two months after buying it, maybe? S’good, though I can’t remember much beyond the first three songs and the closer. I know Cee-Lo crops up and is a bit annoying. Anyway, ‘No Substitute Love‘ is the next single and just like that it is officially summer, eh? Bites the hell out of ‘Faith‘, but that’s OK cos after that Fratellis single ‘Faith’ deserves a bit of compensation.

Dammit Fearne, stop saying you love things. You do not. It is doing my fucking head in, and is moderately creepy.

16. ALPHABEAT - 10,000 Nights of Thunder

Fearne recaps her interview with Anders from Alphabeat last week in unnecessary detail i.e. near-as verbatim. Listening to it first time was bad enough.

This version sounds horribly over-rehearsed is the problem. His “Oh yeah!” is so far from spontaneity it’s like they’re speaking different languages. You fear for them. It sounds like karaoke at gunpoint. Poor sods.

15. SEPTEMBER - Cry For You

AGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN is the best word in this chart thus far. Surging from convalescence. Feeling better now. Goodo.

14. COLDPLAY - Violet Hill

And this is ruddy growing on me. The creeping intensity of the thing, the return of the thumping at the end of each verse, and the way Martin’s voice just emerges from the mix at the end is still spine-tingling. The attempt at Instant Gravitas via the use of military imagery is rapidly becoming a massive bugbear of mine, though.

Albums = UsherRadioheadDiamondDuffy and a Weller (WHO FEARNE LOVES) on top.

The 60secondmontage of Weller is somewhat disorienting to put it mildly. Intriguing, though.

13. WILEY - Wearing My Rolex

This talk of there being no over-arching summer anthem this year seems less important when this comes on. Summer anthems are more of a squad game this year. This, September, ’stella, and I’m sure I can find some others if I look hard enough. It’s all about how hard you wanna look, innit? This still rocks bells, they still shove the vocal in too much.

12. USHER ft. YOUNG JEEZY - Love In This Club

It’s Usher. He’s so very, very uninteresting, his voice has no bloody charisma. He occasionally gets a bit squeaky. That’s it. That is his wicked style. Jings.

11. CHRIS BROWN - Forever

And yet, that is not the feeling I get with wee Chris, not at all. Chris just doesn’t seem like he’s been eaten by his ego yet, somehow. The production here is immersive, delicious, engrossing - with ‘Love In This Club’ it’s beautifully slow, but Usher does not do the slightest thing to suggest that it makes any difference to him. It’s An Usher Record, so it may as well do anything in the back because it’s all about Usher and his massively, massively uninteresting personality.

Top ten, new post, dibbitydibb.

Top 40 Liveblog! 8th June 08

OK, I know I said the next 20 posts would be Aussie chart but, well, the sun is up, and this seems like more fun. The Aussie chart hasn’t got ‘Shut Up And Let Me Go‘ (our number 32), so it can wait a while.

Quite apart from owt else, I left too much gap between last week and the time I did it before. It’s a sunny day. I should have gone outside. But, well… ‘factors’, that seems a nice enough get-out word. We’ll go properly from 30. Nelly’s at 31.

40-31 - Pigeon Tecs, Elbow (new entry), Fratellis, Radiohead (re-entry for ‘Creep’, what with their greatest hits being out an’ that), SCOOTER (new entry; Fearne is displeased), Scouting For Girls, Zutons, Nickelback, Shut Up + Let Me Go, Nelly & Fergwad.

Let’s do it proper:

30. CHRIS BROOOOON - With You

I kinda bottled out of buying his album - got to Woolworths, was OVERWHELMED WITH CHOICE followed by being OVERWHELMED WITH FINANCIAL ANXIETY so I didn’t buy anything. That Billy Fury compilation was £7, though, I may go back and get it.

That light string swell in the chorus makes this. No pressure. Chris wants you to be at ease. He’s tender, caring. He’s trying too bloody hard with this “hearts all over the world tonight” gubbins, to be fair, trying to make sure he’s got at least one memorable hook in there. But God bless the wee man. Except he looks to be about 6′3″. But God bless him anyhow.

Fearne is doing a very long link about how she once perved on:

29. MAROON 5 ft. RIHANNA - If I Never See Your Face Again (NEW ENTRY)

Well, Maroon 5. The singer out of Maroon 5. The thought strikes me that twenty years ago, this would have been Robert Palmer ft. Whitney Houston, and as such I am a bit relieved. Well, I think I am. I’ve never been terribly enthusiastic about the vocal stylings of The singer out of Maroon 5, but his anonymity helps here - he kind of glides into the background, lets The Song speak for itself, and it’s a solid enough piece of 80s yacht-disco knocking-off. You get the feeling neither of the vocalists have met. That’s American pop, I guess. Ri-Ri sounds like she’s very much in charge, mind.

28. MYSTERY JETS - Two Doors Down (NEW ENTRY)

Fortunately, Fearne’s fucking interminable interview with Mystery Jets Feller before was long enough for me to finish the previous entry. Fearne loves it. She must do, she certainly fucking said she did enough. Loves the MJs’ album “more than life”. God save us from these modern presenter types. I tried listening to Colin Murray patronise Gabriele Marcotti to death on Fighting Talk the other day, lasted about half an hour, which was good work on my part, I reckon.

Anyway - more 80s pastiche! Except this has a sprinkle more magic about it. Til the sax solo heffalumps its way in because, y’know, yacht rock an’ that. But before that, it’s been nicking the intro off ‘Oblivious‘, and the singer’s been inspired by more than just tinkling synths - he nails the hesitancy of attraction wonderfully, imagining trying to find out about the girl down the road with the drums, wavering excitedly on the verge of full-blown attraction… then the sax comes in, which in a way bookends things neatly enough, but in another way plays right into Fearne and Colin’s hands. Saxophones! Man! 80s Was Mental!

27. FALL OUT BOY ft. JOHN MAYER - Beat It

You may very well have begun to spot a theme. I couldn’t possibly comment. This is still a pretty solid wee take on the song, but I don’t really feel especially grateful for having heard Pat Stump going “BEATITBEATITBEATITBEATIT”. The identity of “it” seems far too easy to guess…

Hearing Fearne Cotton getting booed at the Foo Fighters gig last night - part of me has my heart filled with joy (particularly given that she appears to have not realised people were booing), but on the other hand… she’s being booed by Foo Fighters fans. It’s a bit like Michael Schumacher egging Robbie Savage’s house.

26. LIL WAYNE ft. STATIC MAJOR - Lollipop

Well, this is certainly a change, innit? The glide on the chorus is delightful, but the radio editing has kind of butchered it a bit, so Wayne just sounds like he’s gurgling the occasional syllable. Fearne finds it “creepy”. She kind of has a point, I guess - it’s a very, very different mood from most of the songs in this chart.

Later on, there’s interviews with Gabriela Cilmi and George Sampson. By Fearne Cotton. Marv.

25. ALEX GAUDINO ft. SHENA - Watch Out (NEW ENTRY)

Is this filter-housing? I can’t remember - anyway, it’s a lift from ‘Papa’s Got A Brand New Pigbag‘, it’s got Shena from Junior Jack’s equally delightful ‘Dare Me‘ giving it the filter-house vocals over the top, and essentially it’s half-arsed, flatlining cobblers.

24. MORRISSEY - All You Need Is Me (NEW ENTRY)

“There’s so much destruction all over the world, and all you can do is complain about me…” Someone’s got meta, eh? “As a small child in a welfare house, there was only one thing I ever dreamed about. Fate has just handed it to me - whoopee!” This is, weirdly, beautiful. Fearne says “I love that song - you’re right Morrissey, all we need is you!” Do you think she actually listened when he went “You don’t like me but you love me; either way, you’re wrong”? It’s got a delightful, low-slung nastiness to the playing, too, actual damned bite on those guitars. Morrissey sounds like he’s enjoying himself, amazingly, that “whoopee!” the sound of a man confident that he no longer really has much to worry about. It should be tedious, and doubtless everyone else I know will think so, but somehow, something has clicked here. Bet I never listen to it again.

23. SNAP - Rhythm Is A Dancer

The irony here being that Turbo B has serious difficulty staying in time, so most of his lines over-run wildly til we get to that whole “serious as cancer” bit. God, Britain loves the past this week, eh?

22. ALPHABEAT - Fascination

21. DUFFY - Mercy

Both of these are skipped over. New post in a sec for the top 20.

15. Psycho Teddy - Psycho Teddy

This is a ringtone that’s been looped for two minutes, but it’s still got all those Australian traits of eff-off annoying vocals and backing that’s been turned up so that the hooks get all squidged and it just sounds like you’re listening to a sausage-making machine going “frrrrrz”. Six songs in and The Presets have been the best thing here by a country mile - stay tuned to find out if that changes (I’m off to go sit outside for a bit)…