Tag: Big Country

Now That’s What I Call Dubious Vol 2 Part 2

Welcome back to our wander down memory lane, where we revisit all of the records in the Now That’s What I Call Music series (until I get bored of writing it, that is). Many thanks too all who left much kinder comments after the last instalment, and especially to JC who flagged to me that former regular Chain contributor The Great Gog, who, if memory serves, had a blog but hadn’t actually gotten round to writing anything back then, is currently writing about old issues of Smash Hits he bought back in the day. If you’re enjoying the nostaglia-fest I write here, you might want to check out his blog Wasting Time in the Study. At the time of writing this, he’s on September 20 – October 3 1979, so I suspect at some point there may well be some synchronicity between his blog and this series.

Since he’s far too modest to self-publicise, I also wanted to flag the Shakedown series JC writes over at his ever-wonderful blog The (new) Vinyl Villain, where he takes a month-by-month “look back at the 45s that were making all the noise in 1979” He’s currently on April, having previously completed the same task for 1983.

Enough with the plugs, although it’s perhaps better if we all promote our peers blogs than when, say, former Prime Ministers attempt to big up their new book (wait for it…):

Let’s get going, shall we? As always, feel free to reveal which of these you bought back in the day via the Comments section, and remember, we’re not here to judge you (although we may take the piss a bit).

Disc 2, Side 1

  1. Frankie Goes to Hollywood – Relax

Now if ever a song deserves to be described as an era-defining greatest hit, it’s probably this one. Relax first entered the UK Top 75 singles chart in November 1983 but didn’t crack the Top 40 until early January 1984. It reached #1 at the end of January, and remained in the Top 40 for 37 consecutive weeks, 35 of which followed a ban by the BBC, following Radio 1 DJ Mike Read getting his knickers in a twist over what he considered to be some rather fruity lyrics. Halfway through playing the single, Read suddenly turned the record off, denouncing the lyrics as ‘obscene’, an account which Read denies, claiminghe only had a copy of the longer 12″ version in the studio, and that his interruption of the record was purely for timing reasons. Whatever the truth is, he is forever associated with it, credited with instigating the ban which the BBC swiftly enforced shortly afterwards.

The lyrics seem rather tame now – certainly I find it less offensive than Read’s own 2014 single UKIP Calypso, which was rightly criticised for being racist, and which Read subsequently withdrew it from sale and apologised – but back then the words “Relax, don’t do it/When you want to sock it to it/Relax, don’t do it/ When you want to come.” were considered shocking. Head Frankie… Holly Johnson contends that the lyric was misheard: the line wasn’t “When you want to sock it to it”, it was “When you want to suck, chew it”, which I’m not sure helped appease those offended, and I’m pretty sure wasn’t meant to.

The BBC ban wasn’t restricted to the radio waves, but to TV too, which led to the farcical position when it reached #1 where Top of the Pops resorted to simply showing a photo of the band at the culmination of the chart rundown, before airing a performance by a non-number one artist.

When follow-up single Two Tribes followed Relax to #1 a few months later, Relax the single re-entered the Top Ten for a further nine weeks, including two spent at # 2, only kept off the #1 slot for a second time by Two Tribes.

Relax eventually amassed a whopping 70 weeks in the uk Top 100 and sold a reported two million copies in the UK alone, easily ranking among the ten biggest-selling singles in the UK.

2. Eurythmics – Here Comes The Rain Again

By the time this came out in January 1984, Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart were well-established regulars. This was their tenth single, and their fifth to reach the UK Top Ten, peaking at #8.

Eurythimics are one of those bands I’m pretty meh about to be honest. There are some of their singles that I quite liked at the time (only one which I ever purchased), there are some – such as this, and all that had bothered the charts before it – which I hated at the time (the old “no guitars…!!” bias kicking in again) but which I now feel great affection for, and there is one which I hate so much I have to turn the radio off whenever it comes on. Doubtless they will reappear in this series, so I’ll not elaborate further. This is, of course, a painfully transparent attempt to build some tension about which singles I’m referring to.

3. Howard Jones – What is Love?

Second appearance of the 80s synth-pop icon in the series, this was the follow-up to New Song, it fared better in the UK charts than its predecessor, peaking at #2. Jones once said of it: “”I didn’t want to write songs about, ‘I love you, baby, you’ve hurt me and I’m sad.’ I didn’t want to write songs about co-dependency. If I was going to write about love, I wanted to say what do we mean by love? What is it, really? You can’t be dependent upon another person for your happiness. So you’d better question this idea of romantic love pretty soon, otherwise you’re going to be pretty miserable. So that’s really what that song is”, which somehow manages to make it sound even duller than it actually is.

4. The Smiths – What Difference Does it Make?

This is more like it, although despite it having a unique and fabulous guitar-riff courtesy of Johnny Marr, I still didn’t buy it at the time because I, sadly, subscribed to the notion that Morrissey was a miserable sod. I took me a few years to finally “get them”, at which point they promptly split up. I don’t believe these two facts are linked.

I caught an old rerun of Top of the Pops on BBC4 the other week, and it kicked off with Sandie Shaw covering Hand in Glove, with The Smiths, sans Morrissey, as her backing band, and I suddenly felt like Seah Hughes used to when The Smiths came on the radio in his sit-com Sean’s Show. I was particularly struck with just how cool Marr looked at the time; no less so when they opened the show with What Difference... (warning, this clip contains image of The Hairy Cornflake and as such should be approached with great caution):

5. Fiction Factory – (Feels Like) Heaven

This lot were Scottish one-hit wonders, the band reaching #6 in January 1984 with this one, then never bothering the Top 40 again. The (Feels Like) Heaven line and refrain ws nicked and remodelled to advertise mobile phones back in the late ’90s/early 2000s, the “Feels Like” replaced with the word Carphone, if I remember correctly (and I add that caveat as I cannot 100% remember what product was being advertised, which shows how effective advertising can be).

6. Re-Flex – The Politics of Dancing

A song the title of which I recognise, but do I remember the song itself? Nope. I’ve just listened to it. Still, nope.

The band’s keyboard player and song-writer Paul Fishman said the song “… is really about the power of when people come together and express themselves through dancing and letting go. During the ’80s, it was in its very early days but in the latter part of the decade the rave scene was pretty much the message in a nut shell. No, I don’t think people generally understand messages but some get it so that’s alright.” So, that’s him taking credit for the rave scene, whilst calling lovers of pop music thick.

This reached the giddy heights of #28 and then, just like Fiction Factory, their 15 minutes of fame were over.

I should, I suppose, commend the compilers of the Now… albums for not just picking the obvious singles, and trying to include some succesful singles by less well-known acts. Not that they would have known they wouldn’t have continued success at the time, but you get my point.

See also…

7. Thomas Dolby – Hyperactive!

This was the second of two hits by Dolby, although as I write this I find that the first, She Blinded Me With Science, had been released twice previously, reaching #49 the first time, and #56 the second, so not, strictly speaking, a hit going by my definition (a hit = Top 40).

Hyperactive!, however, managed to get to #17, but nearly wasn’t a Dolby single at all: he initially composed the song for Michael Jackson, following a meeting in 1982, but decided to record it himself when he never got any feedback from Jackson after sending him a demo tape. Maybe if he’d put some pictures of young boys on the cover it might have got his attention.

8. China Crisis – Wishful Thinking

Hailing from Kirby, near Liverpool, this was the band’s China Crisis 5th single, but the first to bother the Top 40, peaking at #9. More was to come from the band (including two singles I bought at the time, more of them another time, I imagine) but this, I’m surprised to find, was their biggest hit. I say that not because it’s a bad record, but simply because I thought at least one, if not both, of the singles I bought by them were bigger. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

Disc 2, Side 2

7. David Bowie – Modern Love

A belter to kick off the final side.

I don’t think that, in March 1984, I really understood how important and great Bowie was, my opinion of him somewhat tempered by my dislike of Let’s Dance, which I remember mocking for the suggestion of putting on red shoes to dance the blues.

I loved Modern Love, though. Not enough to actually buy it, mind, but it went a long way to my recognising that maybe this guy was a genius after all, as did the single sandwiched between it and Let’s Dance, China Girl, which like Modern Love got to #2 in the UK Charts, prevented from hitting the top slot by Culture bloody Club’s Karma sodding Chameleon, which you may recall from the first instalment of this series, I hate. Maybe this goes some way to explaining that.

Speaking of whom…

8. Culture Club – It’s a Miracle

Yet another that falls into the category of ones by Boy George and the boys that I quite like, and which I can’t think of anything interesting to say about it, other than that it reached #4 in the UK Charts, and that’s not really very interesting at all, is it?

9. The Rolling Stones – Undercover of the Night

Unlike Bowie, I was very aware of the history and significance of The Stones back in 1984, and this was don to three things: firstly, my brother owned a greatest hits double album called The Story of The Stones, which, of all the Best ofs and Greatest Hits album put out in the band’s name is, for my money, the best one (and when I say ‘for my money’, I meant it, as when I started replenishing my vinyl a few years ago, it was that one which I bought); secondly, some kids at my school put a band together, they performed at a school assembly once, and played Jumpin’ Jack Flash and I thought it was ace; thirdly, as a family we would pick records from my Dad’s collection to play of a Saturday evening, and when the one 7″ single he had by them was selected, my Dad would do a terrible but very funny impression of Jagger along to it. He denied all knowledge of for years, until photographic evidence was finally located and presented to him.

Anyway, Undercover of the Night is no Jumpin’ Jack Flash, but it’s not bad and it did reach #11 and in the UK Charts, and, if memory serves, the accompanying video caused quite a stir at the time, although watching it back now that must have been because of Jagger’s terrible false moustache:

10. Big Country – Wonderland

I could have sworn that I owned this, not on 7″ single, but on their 1983 album The Crossing (which I no longer own, I probably flogged it with a load of other records in a moment of madness/skintness); however, on putting this together, I learn that it wasn’t on the album at all, but was released as a stand-alone single in 1984, reaching #8 in the UK Charts. It absolutely sums up Big Country’s signature sound, which is no bad thing in my book.

11. Slade – Run Runaway

Heavens above, this is poor. So poor that they couldn’t even be bothered to mis-spell the title.

So, here’s one of Vic & Bob’s Slade in Residence sketches to help ease the pain:

Run Runaway somehow manged to reach #7 in the UK Charts, and would be the final time they bothered the Top Ten (correct at time of writing).

12. Duran Duran – New Moon on Monday

Given the mention of Simon le Bon in that Viv & Bob/Slade clip, it seems appropriate that this lot appear next. Let’s be honest, though, this, which reached #9 in the UK Charts, isn’t their finest moment, although it has proven to be their most culturally significant, given it has an occasional series on some blog or other named after it.

13. Paul McCartney – Pipes of Peace

Another somewhat anti-climactic ending to the compilation, I assume this was placed here to make the songs message of peace more powerful, As with the last two songs, this UK #1 is by no means a classic from Fab Macca Wacky Thumbs Aloft, perhaps best remembered for its video, depicting that moment in World War 1 when peace briefly broke out on Christmas Day, and British and German soldiers put down their weapons and played a game of football in No Man’s Land. Germany won on penalties, I’d imagine.

So, after encouraging you all to share which of these records you bought at the time, it turns out I bought exactly none of them. Ho hum. Maybe next time.

(More soon).

Rant

So, what’s been happening whilst I’ve been indisposed for the past couple of months?

I mean, blimey, where do I start?

In World War 1, so legend has it, peace temporarily broke out on Christmas Day when British and German troops laid down their weapons and played football in No Man’s Land. When I say “legend”, I mean that it featured in the video of Paul Wacky-Thumbs-Aloft McCartney’s 1983 #1 anodyne smasheroo Pipes of Peace.

I can’t help but think that this is why PM Alexander “Boris” Johnson is so desperate for this Christmas to be “considerably better than last year” – he’s hoping someone will toss him a football so he can show off his skills. He must have some, right?

Oof. Maybe not.

Still, the irony in Johnson’s bonce connecting with that chap’s actual Johnson can’t have been lost on him. I’m sure there’s nobody who likes to be reminded more that their surname is slang for ‘penis’ than our glorious leader. Perhaps that’s why he insists on being called Boris instead of his birthname, Alexander. I mean, if my name was a euphemism for genitals, male or female, then I’d probably change my name too. Family pride would probably prevent me from changing the offending word, so I think I’d probably concur and change my first name, just like Johnson has. (Okay, Boris is one of his many middle names, but you get the giste. Although, that might explain why he was so reluctant to release the results of the enquiry into Russian interference with our electoral procedures…)

Even then, though, having drawn attention away from my surname, I would probably stop short of ensuring my hair always resembles a bush of pubes finally set free from a particularly tight pair of Y-fronts when in pubic public.

Lucky for me, then, that my actual birth name, Jeremiah Bellend-Spunkbubble, has no such connotations, so the problem has never, um, arisen for me.

Until very recently, it seemed that no matter how he and his bunch of thick-as-yeast- extract cronies behaved, nothing could stick. But now it seems, finally the general public is starting to realise what those of us who lived in London under his tenure as Mayor have known for ages: the man is a charlatan, a habitual liar, used to getting his own way, incompetent. A man who doesn’t like to be pinned down on detail, or to be held accountable for things he has said or done. A man who cannot admit when he has made a mistake or done wrong. A man who is, as Eddie Mair famously called him in this interview, “a nasty piece of work”:

There isn’t even any satisfaction in saying “I told you so” now, you know. You’ll be aware that the Germans have a word, schadenfreude, which means “pleasure derived by someone from another person’s misfortune”. That definitely applies here.

Whilst I was on hiatus, things finally seemed to be changing. First, there was the Owen Paterson affair and, more specifically what the Tories attempted to do in the wake of his being found to be in breach of Parliamentary rules by the independent and cross-party Parliamentary Commissoner for Standards.

Without wishing to bore you with detail, Paterson – as well as what really should be a full-time job as an MP – was holding down two additional jobs, one with healthcare company Randox, who paid him ÂŖ8,333 a month for a monthly commitment of 16 hours as a consultant, and one with Lynn’s Country Foods Ltd, who paid him ÂŖ12,000 for 24 hours work per year for performing a similar role.

Spinal Tap – Gimme Some Money

Paterson was found to have breached paid advocacy rules for making three approaches to the Food Standards Agency and four approaches to the Department for International Development in relation to Randox and seven approaches to the Food Standards Agency relating to Lynn’s Country Foods. The Commissioner said Paterson had “repeatedly used his privileged position to benefit two companies for whom he was a paid consultant, and that this has brought the house into disrepute” and that “no previous case of paid advocacy has seen so many breaches or such a clear pattern of behaviour in failing to separate private and public interests”.

A motion to carry out the recommendations of the Committee and suspend Paterson was due to be voted on by Parliament. Had suspension been approved, a recall petition would have been triggered in his constituency, which would have led to a by-election. An amendment to the motion to delay consideration of Paterson’s suspension was put forward by Conservative backbencher Andrea Leadsom; it also proposed to set up a new committee to investigate the disciplinary process for MPs.

This would, in effect, have allowed new rules to be implemented which would have seen Paterson escape punishment. And for once it seemed that the country, along with all of the Opposition, were up in arms about this, leading to a spectacular U-turn, where Beano character Walter Softy made-flesh Jacob Rees Mogg stood up in Parliament, announced that they would not be pursuing the amendment as they were horrified that their actions had been perceived in the way they were, which was never their intention, nosiree, cross my heart and hope to learn some empathy.

Paterson resigned, whilst still protesting his innocence and stating that he would not do anything differently were he to have his time again, meaning that there was a by-election in his safe Tory constituency of North Shropshire

I say “safe”: apart from when the constituency was abolished between 1885 and 1983, it had never been anything other than a Conservative seat. At the last election, Paterson had a majority of 23,000.

And on Thursday, they lost it, to the Liberal Democrats, with a swing of 34%, with a majority of 5925. This Brexit-voting constituency, eternally blue, is now yellow, having voted in a candidate from an explicitly Remain party. (I shan’t mention Brexit again. Not yet anyway. It’s going so well, what is there to say?)

Beautiful.

But it would be foolish to think it was just Paterson’s actions which led his constituents to reject his party so utterly, for there’s been the small matter of the illicit Christmas parties.

I don’t intend to go in to all the oh-so-many allegations made, or lies told in defence about all of these. I don’t need to, because the BBC’s Ros Atkins – yes, that BBC, who apparently refuse to report on any wrong-doing by the government, and are biased one way or the other, depending on which side of the fence you’re on – has done it for me:

There’s a lot to unpack from that.

Firstly, the seemingly innocuous wearing of party hats, Christmas jumpers, Secret Santas, tinsel and catering: contrary to claims that “no party took place”, all of these things show that not only did parties happen, but they were planned in advance.

Secondly, the photograph of Johnson hosting what is claimed to be an online quiz: not only does this prove that the PM was mixing with people not in his bubble (unless he lives with the guy with the tinsel wrapped round him), it also shows that he knew a party was taking place. Furthermore, that he knew this was in breach of the restrictions: why else would the CCTV camera have been covered with what appears to be a binbag, other than to ensure that events weren’t captured?

Thirdly, the laughable excuses the Metropolitan Police have given for refusing to investigate this. So far, two ridiculous reasons have been proffered: that they do not investigate Covid breaches retrospectively, coupled with them saying they would not look for evidence as they have no evidence.

Last time I checked, Minority Report was still just a film.

There must be lifers up and down the country’s prisons currently banging their tin cups on the bars of their cells, complaining about how unfair it is that, when it came to their crimes and misdemeanours, the police most definitely looked for evidence when they were trying to get them locked up. And also they arrested them after the offence had taken place, not before.

And in any event, they have now said they will investigate the party that Tory candidate for London Mayor and the former chair of the police and crime committee (now resigned) Shaun Bailey, which very much negates both of their reasons for refusing to investigate the ones that Johnson allegedly had knowledge of, or even attended.

This seems to be the Met’s policy:

Big Country – Look Away

You may think all this focus on last year’s Christmas parties is all a bit trite, cheap and irrelevant, and to be honest, I think you’d maybe have a point.

For whilst we’re all preoccupied with potentially illegal gatherings last year, our own civil liberties are being gradually stripped from under our noses. Already our democratic right to protest has gone. At the same time, refugees – not migrants, refugees – are being turned away on the basis that their attempts to reach our shores whilst fraught with danger (which they are) are illegal (which they aren’t). And I can’t help but think that the herd immunity policy which has been implemented over Covid – not that they call it that, but that’s what it is – and the refusal to go into lockdown again are specifically designed to make our beloved NHS, surely the pride of our country, finally buckle and collapse so that it can be sold off to the highest bidder, or, more likely, to some mate of a prominent MP who owns a pub and is a jolly good egg.

Right now, entitled uber-moron Dominic Raaaaaaaaab is reviewing the Human Rights Act and trying to introduce legislation which would allow the Government to overturn any judicial decision they disagree with. And that, my friends, is scary.

See, I’ve mentioned before the dead cat theory, where we are distracted from something unpopular by the metaphorical throwing of a dead cat onto the table, making every one talk about the dead cat and the person who threw it there rather than whatever it is they were trying to distract us from. It used to be called “burying bad news” and you may recall that one of former PM Tony Blair’s advisers got in a lot of bother when they suggested that 9/11 would be “a good day to bury bad news”.

I don’t think this is a dead cat tossing situation though, or if it is then it has spectacularly backfired, to the point where bookies are offering odds on who will replace Johnson. Current favourites are Liz Truss, Priti Patel and Matt Hancock. Gawd help us, is that the best they have to offer??

Much as I loathe Johnson, there is a tiny part of me that almost hopes he stays on. Not just because of who is likely to replace him (will they go for the idiot, the evil one, or the philandering incompetent next?) but also because I want his fall from grace to become even more spectacular.

There you go: schadenfreude.

Johnny Boy – You Are The Generation That Bought More Shoes And You Get What You Deserve

More soon.

A History of Dubious Taste – 1986

Slowly but surely, we edge through a review of my record collection in chronological order…

…and here we are in April 1986, where, as far as I can glean, this was the only single I purchased.

One of only two records I own by Big Country – the other being their debut album “The Crossing” – this turned out to be their biggest hit in the UK, reaching the giddy heights of #7.

Whoever was the band’s stylist at the time was clearly at loggerheads with the person responsible for the photo-shoot for the single sleeve:

Photographer: Let’s put them in a bleak, wind-swept, wintry scene. It captures their innate Scottishness, plus it’ll look like Big Country are part of the big countryside!

Stylist: But I’ve told the lads to turn up dressed as if they’re appearing on Miami Vice….

Photographer: Ah, it’ll be fine, people love a good juxtaposition.

big-country-look-away-mercury

Big Country – Look Away

It was also around this time that I picked up an album originally released in 1981 and which, by July 2016, had gone platinum twenty times, sold 6,120,000 copies in the UK alone, and had become the biggest selling album in the UK. Ever. So before any of you decide to take the piss, chances are you’ve owned a copy of it at some time or other too.

But, in my book, it shouldn’t count as the Biggest Selling Album Ever, because it’s a Greatest Hits album. Compilation albums were excluded from the normal UK Album Charts in January 1989, and what is a Greatest Hits album if not a compilation of the biggest selling singles released by one artist?

Anyway, whichever way you look at it, it’s definitely an album, and one that I bought in April 1986, and I know that I bought it then because I was swotting up ready to go to my first ever gig later that year, a gig which featured both acts on the line-up. But more about that another time.

Until then, here’s a song which, in the wee small hours of Friday night/Saturday morning, when we’d both had a few too many, Hel and I would belt out together in our old flat:

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Queen – Somebody to Love

Now, if you don’t want to read something a bit soppy, I suggest that you…er…”look away” now: Hel and her long-term partner Neil recently announced they’re getting married next year. So it seems to me that if you sing a song often enough, it can come true. Congratulations, both.

More soon.

1985 and All That

So whilst I was busy buying godawful records by members of The Quo, at the same time I was racking up some unintentional points with Britannia Music.

Long-term readers may remember that I mentioned this particular company once before. In the mid-1980s, anytime you opened a weekend newspaper, a leaflet would invariably fall out, advertising Britannia’s 3 for ÂŖ20 introductory offer, which I have to admit this teenage brain fell for.

Having succumbed, they would send you a booklet every month, detailing all of their wares (of which you had to buy a certain amount within a certain amount of time or…well, actually, as these were the days where you paid for any postal purchases by cheque, I’m not sure what the “or..” was. They’d tell my parents??) and bigging up their Album of The Month.

And here’s where the real money-spinner was for them: they just assumed that you would want to buy the Album of the Month. If you didn’t, you had to tick a box on a form and post it back to them by a certain date. Miss that cut off point, and suddenly you were the proud owner of…well, you’ll see.

You know me by now. I ended up with some stuff that I would not have ordinarily bought. Like this:

Go-West

Go West – Don’t Look Down

and this…

spandau-ballet-the-singles-collection-cd-usa-391101-MLA20268255688_032015-F

Spandau Ballet – Highly Strung

…which contains one of the most cringe-worthy lyrics ever:

“She used to be a diplomat, but now she’s down the laundromat”

Although I can’t really complain, as it did mean I owned this, which is an absolutely belting New Romantic classic:

Spandau Ballet – To Cut a Long Story Short

Both of these inadvertent purchases would, in the fullness of time, actually prove their worth. I’ll explain that later.

So that’s my excuse for owning those. I have no such excuse, nor do I think I need one, for owning this:

big_country-the_crossing(5)

…which I intentionally bought, not so that I owned any of their guitars-as-bagpipes records (if you don’t know what I mean by that, then go YouTube “In a Big Country”), but so that I owned this, which I still adore to this day (and I don’t care what you think):

Big Country – Chance

I also bought this:

R-2058375-1358002607-6384_jpeg

…a collection of tracks by bands who had played at Live Aid, mostly because, if memory serves, it was only ÂŖ1.99, but also because it contained this (and again, I don’t care what you think about me liking this either):

The Boomtown Rats – I Don’t Like Mondays

Has there been a greater record written about a shooting spree at a school? I think not, and let’s face it, there’s been plenty of opportunities for somebody to have a go at writing one.

But wait. Here comes the good bit.

Yet again, I can snatch victory from the jaws of defeat by giving you this brilliant piece of Japanese pop, which samples the piano bit at the start of “…Mondays” (and, whilst we’re at it, the German bit from the start of  “Pretty Fly (For a White Guy)” by The Offspring, which in turn was sampling Def Leppard’s “Rock of Ages” which…heck, we could be here all day if I carry on). (By the way, you should watch the Def Leppard video, it is unintentionally, bum-wigglingly, hilarious. Spinal Tap was spot on.)

Anyway, if you only click one link on this blog, I urge you to make it this one. You won’t regret it:

Splurge_album

Puffy AmiYumi – Call Me What You Like

See? Told you.

More soon.