Death has been all over the place this Christmas and New Year. Just as the deaths of Pelé and Vivienne Westwood had sunk in it was announced yesterday that Alan Rankine, guitarist and keyboardist and one half of The Associates, died at the weekend aged sixty four. He formed the group with Billy Mackenzie in Dundee in the late 70s and they put out a cover of Bowie's Boys Keep Swinging as their debut single, a move guaranteed to cause a bit of attention. Their three albums over the next three years- The Affectionate Punch, the compilation Fourth Drawer Down and Sulk- are essential documents of post- punk becoming synth pop/ new pop. Alan left The Associates in 1982 leaving Mackenzie to use the name through to 1990 although they re- united briefly in 1993. Sadly Billy killed himself in 1997.
Rankine went on to work as a producer, with a string of leftfield 80s artists including Cocteau Twins, The Pale Fountains and Paul Haig and he made several solo records. He also played a role in launching Belle And Sebastian's Tigermilk album into the world, helping students to set up the label Electric Honey at Glasgow's Stow College.
These biographical details are available at obituaries all over the internet. What they can't describe, or contain, is the sheer electrifying, world tilting shock of hearing Party Fears Two for the first time. Released in 1982 it made the top ten in the UK, and is truly a pop single like no other. Built around a piano riff- a piano that sounds like it's made out of shards of glass and crystal- the song swoops and soars, Billy's voice careering in all directions, something otherworldly and alien, while the piano and drums crash onwards, circling in a mad dash to get to the end. The song's title came from Billy's brother who described a pair of girls trying to gain entry to a party he was at, smashing windows and kicking doors with their stiletto heels- he called them the Party Fears Two and Billy took the name from there. The song seems to be about Billy's own anxieties and issues, about how he looked and dressed, set to a melody that is drama personified. Rankine said the song was about being outsiders, about never fitting in, about 'feeling alienated, like you don't belong and feeling also that other people seem to be doing it with ease', and that comes across fully in the sound, the words and the production.
There is the occasional let up- the line, 'So what if this party fears two/ the alcohol loves you while turning you blue', falls to a slightly lower pitch before climbing to the heights again as Billy cries, 'awake me!'. The piano riff becomes more obvious in the final section, more clear and present, sounding more like an actual piano, while Billy's voice seems to physically leave the record via the roof.
It's an astonishing piece of work, a piece of art pressed onto black vinyl, a pop record that is laced with hooks but weirdly unsettling, never quite doing what a pop song should do, in a time (the early 80s) where pop music was being redefined on an almost weekly basis.
Alan Rankine R.I.P.