Archives for category: 80’s

If there is one defining song that marks my very late teens, it is Love will tear us apart.  If I hear it on the radio, it transports me back to the spring of 1980, when the world was ripe with possibility and music was the urging of me.

Everyone seems to want to cover it, as if it imbues you with some grave-robbing chic or supposed coolness, so beloved of anyone who currently nods towards Nick Drake.  None of you nod at John Martyn, do you?  This bloody song – everyone seems to want to chip away at my enduring memory of it, to replace Ian’s version with theirs.  “Look at this” they say “this is a great version of this song”.  I’ve lost count of the attempts, but I’ve listed some of the extremes that youtube has to offer below.  Even the subtle remixing of it on “Closer” riles and irritates me, and makes me question my own audio ability.

I think that if you are going to cover the song, you should take something of it, and work forward from there.  You’re never going to capture the animalistic thrash of the 12 string in the intro, and I defy you to find that synth sound on your garageband setup – you need a proper Yamaha SK10.  No, if you want to cover this song.  you need to begin with it’s USP – the emotion expressed in the lyric – and take it from there.  We’ll come back to the only version that I hold as dear to me as I do the original at the end of this.  For now, let’s have an amusing walk through the villainy – those that would try and fail publicly.  You have to admire their bravery.

Paul Young

I think Paul was the first out of the traps to cover this, and establish himself as Mr no-original-material of the 80’s (have a look at the writing credits on ‘No Parlez’…).  It is at least a different interpretation of the song, and I grudgingly admit that he manages to convey emotion in it.  What you might call a valiant attempt.   I have to say that calling your backing singers the “Fabulous Wealthy Tarts” is always going to affect the way you view the subject matter of the song.

6/10 – taking different roads…

Mark Owen

Oh <insert deity of choice here> – this is utter trite shite.

I have ALWAYS hated the sound of the Ovation Balladeer guitar  I have always hated Take That.  I’ve never understood his mis-pronounced r’s and the only time I’ve ever had a sneaking admiration for him was seeing him with a dustbin in the front seat of his merc, driving home from a DIY store.  Can’t he find better things to do with his time – this is as appropriate as polar bear at a penguin convention…

1/10 Resentment riding quite high indeed

http://youtu.be/khKH7whwqzY

10,000 Maniacs

Natalie is never averse to a spot of cover stuff, and I have been bowled over, in a bad way of course,  at how similar to Steve Harley’s ‘Come up and see me’ she manages to make this sound.  Yes Natalie, your timing IS that flawed.

4/10 – ambitions are low

Nouvelle Vague

It’s a nice frock and suits her, but my daughter could come up with a more interesting arrangement than this.

3/10 – bedroom quite cold….

New Order

You’d think they’d know better, wouldn’t you. No, this is a pedestrian slog through the song that you just wouldn’t expect from the makers of “The Perfect Kiss”,  it shows the difference between the two groups vocal affectations though. Ian could sing this song, and that is an end to it.

4/10 – Failings exposed.

The Cure

I had high hopes of this – Robert Smith should really have ‘got it’.  Instead, it sounds like a song played as if he is going through the motions. A shame – strip it bare and play it in the manner of ‘Killing an Arab’ and it might have worked – but we’ll never know..

2/10 – Desperation taking hold

Simple Minds

I said that you have to take a flavour of the song and run with it, didn’t I?  I want to hate this so much but my feet just get persuaded by what sounds like a John Digweed/Sasha type remix. But Simple Minds? Surely not – this sounds nothing like the band I knew and variously loved and hated through the 80’s.   I score this highly, because there is nothing recognisable about the music other than the chord progression, and that I think perhaps this has some merit as a dance track.  The problem there is, that if you remember the original, this is an abomination, but to the children of the 90’s, this isn’t that bad.  Someone has written in the comments that they should be tried in the Hague for crimes against art. If it polarises you to that extent, it must have some merit?

7/10 – Taking different roads.

Dave Gahan

You did read that correctly.  I’d love to have a soundboard copy of this, because it is exactly what you wouldn’t expect from Basildon’s premier Barstable Baritone.  Dave takes the song and makes it his own – even though this is a live rendition.  I think it benefits from not being over-thought, too.

8/10 – There’s still this appeal

Susanna and the Magic Orchestra

Sublime.  This is deconstructed to the point where you are forced to listen to the words, and the nuances and meanings behind them are bought into a sharp focus.  The spartan musical backdrop adds an ethereal quality to the song – it no longer relies on the adrenaline reaction of the original; this song requires that you engage with it on a cerebral level.  If this song were a work of art, it would be behind alarmed glass doors in the Louvre.

10/10 Love of this version tears me apart.

The Final Countdown.

I know, I could be considered xenophobic for this – after all, this was written by a Swede, and so I should forgive it and walk away from the temptation to rubbish someone’s efforts that aren’t in our mother tongue.  But, no – Benny and Bjorn wrote sensible and well constructed English lyrics,  Roxette did the same (um….bites lip) and of course, who can forget the classic lyrical gymnastics of the Cardigans (“I need some fine wine, and you, you need to be nicer” is utterly brilliant, in my opinion).   The Final Countdown, then,  has been knocked and laughed at for so many years, it is almost the “Hi Ho Silver Lining” of cheesy 80’s hair rock – played at the end of the evening by way of lampoonery.  Although, thinking about it, interchangeable with any Bon Jovi or Whitesnake track you can care to mention.  Poodle-rockers, I salute you all – you have donated a wealth of lyrics to take the piss out of.   Mr Coverdale? Back of the queue, sir, you’ll have your own article in due course.

The music – I have no problem with, it is the benchmark for formulaic 80’s rock that is defined as Hair Rock.  Poodle rock sounds better to me though.  To the lyric then.  I can’t be bothered to type out the refrain (some would call it the chorus, but no, it is a refrain , no more) but here is the second verse, I think.

We’re heading for Venus.  

Why? Lads, it has a surface temperature of 460c, an atmospheric pressure 80 times that of earth, an atmosphere of  dubious gases, and clouds. Lots of them. Are you stupid?

And still we stand tall

Which way is ‘up’ in space, exactly?

Because maybe they’ve seen us, and welcome us all. Yeah.  

So, they are looking at us? Who? Venusians? Small rodents called Gerald?

With so many light years to go

Here’s the thing, Joey.  I think Venus is something like 25 million miles away from us, and in terms of light years, it is about, give or take a bit – 3 minutes away. That is an epic fail in terms of your astrophysical calculations, right there.

And things to be found  

You’re not really getting the nature of space, are you? Empty as fsck, it is…

I’m sure that we’ll all miss her so  

Who? You’ve just introduced a random female into the song.  Good grief….

It’s the final countdown.  

This begs the question what you all sang about in the penultimate countdown, doesn’t it?.

I think I rest my case.  If you want space rock, try Brock and Calvert – they’ve been (lyrically) doing it better for years.

I think the reason that I wasn’t aware of a lot of music in the mid-late 80’s was because I no longer avidly read the New Musical Express and Melody Maker from cover to cover, and because I was in a band. Oh, and maybe Stock Aitken and Waterman had rather poisoned the rock chalice for me, into the bargain. You all paid for his train hobby, you know, every time you stuck your hand in your wallet for the latest Kylie….
I always felt it was important to not listen to too much current stuff lest you plagarise. As Morrissey said, Theres always someone with a big nose who knows, who trips you up and laughs when you fall. A truism, as it turns out…
We’d been in the studio (“we” being “Another Country”) and time was running out [2] – everyone else had done their bits and finally it was down to me to do the lead bits (which were never my forte) in the 30 minutes left. By my own admission, I am no Steve Jones (the Pistols guitarist is renowned for being the most accurate studio guitarist of the 70’s…and to this day, if ‘Fire and Gasoline’ is anything to go by) and I’d got nothing prepared so I busked it. I rattled some bits off – nothing coherent, but the nods from the other site of the plexiglass window made it all seem like I’d done an OK job. In today’s vernacula-transatlantica, I believe I ‘nailed it’ (which used to be a euphemism for something quite different back then, but I digress).
I got the thumbs up from the rest of the band and settled down to listen to a fairly crude mix in the control room, and then we were off into the warm Sarfend (thats Southend on Sea, for those of you that don’t frequent the Canvey Delta) night with two tracks on a cassette. We used to rehearse at Lee Brilleaux’s rehearsal place (yes, there was a mezzanine bar, no we never did. Not ever. All we ever did was admire the records set into the walls) and got a reasonable facsimile of the studio tape into the live version, and it turned out that the song, “Ring Out”, was a firm favourite at the weekly gigs we were doing around Southend. [1]
Another Country were taking the Sarfend scene by storm according to our own well-oiled publicity machine (4 pints of Stella is a brilliant journalistic lubricant – ooh, a new word – Journolube. Now is that a verb or a noun? I am getting to the point of this, trust me) and we landed a big gig supporting The Bible at the Cliffs Pavilion (I think it was The Bible – or The Christians, I’m not sure). We went on, and pulled the old Faces trick of owning the stage (helped by the fact that our ‘following’ had nothing else to do that sunday evening) and played an absolute blinder. I wouldn’t say it was our best gig ever, but we did rather blow the main band away. The £30 we slipped the sound engineer to turn us up louder than the main act was the first in a litany of dirty tricks I learned….
Afterwards, we were hobnobbing with the quite multitudinous audience when some spotty oik came up to me and asked if the Easybeats tribute lick was intentional. Oh yes, I’d absorbed at some point in my teens, ‘Friday on my mind’, (most likely the Bowie version on Pin ups, as I used to fall asleep with the headphones on with that album) and spat the lick onto tape in my hurry to get something out. And of course, the spotty oik scored a good three points there, because I hadn’t got a clue what he was on about. Of course, my position is quite different (22 years to form a riposte helps) now inasmuch as I take the view that Good Artists copy, Great Artists steal. In my case, though, I’d add a subnote to the effect that Mediocre Artists absorb Mick Ronson licks in their sleep…
[1] The provisional title of the as yet unrecorded album was “Kiss me where it smells”, the punchline to the band’s favourite joke. A young couple were parked up and steaming up the windows. As things progressed, she whispered “Darling, kiss me where it smells”….so he jumped into the drivers seat and drove her to Canvey Island.
[2] Sorry, that wasn’t meant to read like ‘Smoke on the water’; I shan’t insult your intelligence by editing it – Canvey is so very like Montreaux, no?
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