Showing posts with label 1990s pop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1990s pop. Show all posts

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

Usura - Open Your Mind (1993/ No. 7/ 12 weeks/ Deconstruction)

I have no doubt as to what my favourite album is. It's New Gold Dream by (THE EARLY!) Simple Minds. For the abstraction and the expanse. You know the experience when you're on a coach or a bus, coming into New York or Boston, say, and for the first time you cross over a bridge and see the whole expanse of the city? The many blocks, the twinkling lights, the vast scale of it? You feel a sense of possibilities suddenly in front of you, the feeling that you too have a place in this?

New Gold Dream evokes that moment and sustains it for 45 minutes.

It sounds incredibly shimmering, the closest that sound comes to being like light, and is a synesthenic experience, not bombastic stadium rock at all, no siree. It is the album that is most likely to make me feel better when I'm unhappy, and the album most likely to keep a feeling of happiness going when I feel that way.

So you might expect me to have my doubts as to the wisdom of an Italian rave version of the title track. Not a bit of it. Hearing the introduction slightly faster with some blips and souped up with a rhythmic undercarriage, gives me a tremendous sense of communal affirmation. Look! This music is so good that it works on a pilled-up dancefloor, too, not just in my head.

What you don't get are the lyrics, neither the heroic vagueness nor the one thing that locks the original into its specific time ("81 - 82 - 83 - 84") Instead a stentorian Eurovoice commands the listener to;

"O-PEN YOUR MIND! O-PEN YOUR MIND!"

An instruction that is repeated many many times.

Remarkably, this is not irritating, largely because the command is actually supported by the endless possibility of the music. Also, the merciful lack of elaboration comes as a relief. How many records of the early 1990s were ruined by the elucidation of half-baked philosophies of positivity? The Shamen being perhaps the most persistent offenders.

This disc both rocks and shimmies.

Saturday, 6 August 2011

Aaliyah - Back & Forth (1994/ No. 16/ 5 weeks/ Jive)


"It's Friday (wooh!)
and I'm ready to swing
Pick up my girls
and hit the party scene"

It's the real blankness in this record that makes it so compelling to me. I'm not sure where the emotional heart of it is, or even if it has one. Ostensibly a song about going out and partying, Aaliyah doesn't sound very excited by the prospect, even though she was only 16 when she recorded it.

Part of this void is the peripatetic nature of going back and forth as a metaphor. It doesn't sound very sexual, which you might imagine. Crucial to how the listener understands this record, is where one places the omnipresent R Kelly in the narrative. He's all over it, issuing instructions and advice - but really low in the mix. Is he a desired other on the other side of the club? Or is he the internal voice of the singing girl, making sense of the environment, working out how to appear cool?

It doesn't make going out dancing sound fun or affectionate…

Sunday, 1 May 2011

The Cure - Pictures Of You (1990/ No. 24/ 6 weeks/ Fiction)



By 1989, Robert Smith really had hit upon a unique form of song writing. This is a remarkably sparse song. The trademark sonorous bass line and spectral guitar don't do very much, but evoke a deep fluidity that could go on forever (and effectively does on the 12") that foregrounds the lyrics.

This is a quiet song of lost love, but a devastating one. It isn't, as the chorus might lead you to think, a song about looking at photographs of an ex-girlfriend. The girl, "running soft though the night, bigger and brighter and whiter than snow", and the love were extraordinary, beyond temporal limits, "so much more than everything".

But with this ethereal quality, the loved one was also ill-equipped for life. Unsettling descriptions of her state increasingly blot the song; fear, screaming, being lost, slipping away, finally finding "the courage to let it all go"

Madness and suicide. It’s an Ophelia story. It hooks you in.

Friday, 18 March 2011

Lonnie Gordon - Happenin' All Over Again (1990/ No. 4/ 10 weeks/ Supreme)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Nn6E3fmY50&feature=PlayList&p=F0ED9F2178AD72FF&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=1 Perhaps the greatest record that Stock, Aitken and Waterman ever made. You can certainly tell that its one of their prestige productions, when they're really pulling out all of the stops in order to make a classic single. Although the SAW formula was always enjoyable, there are a lot of lesser works where you can tell that they're working on autopilot; a verse that doesn't go anywhere, an unattractive blare of synthi-horns.

 Perhaps this is because in this instance they're creating a dance (pop-house) record, which therefore had to be absolutely of the (January 1990) moment and carry a certain club credibility. It owes a lot to contemporary Italia house, and is therefore inspired by 'Ride On Time' by Black Box, the sound of Summer 1989. If you're making a record that's indebted to one of the most exciting singles in pop history, you've got to be really good! There's tremendous charm about the arrangement, especially in the way that it combines pleasing machine powered effects; jets of steam, pumping noises. There are also spot-on atmospheric 1990 embellishments - yelps of "whoo" and "whee" in the mix. (The type of thing that provoked my 17-year old muso distrust, I'm embarrassed to recollect.)

 The thing that really made the writer-producers raise their game here was that they were working with a singer who totally knew her chops. Lonnie Gordon came from the Bronx, sang in clubs, had moved to the UK, and become the first-choice house diva to call upon for any number of acts by the late 1980s. The degree of passion in this performance, realised in ecstatic wailing and screaming, overwhelms the framework of the arrangement and is the thing about the song that you always remember first, which isn't something that you could say about the usual SAW roster; Sonia, Bananarama, Rick Astley, etc.

 It tells a familiar story of returning to an unsatisfactory boyfriend against your better instincts... but then, Hey! What can you do?

 

I prom-ised tu my-self... 

I'd neev-uh mayke the same mis-takes a-gen (same mistakes...) 

And though I look for some-one else... 

I nev-ah really waaahnt tu walk away 

 

It seems 

that your 

just the SAME 

I forgot 

all the PAIN 

Look in your - eyes! 

you said - 

 

BELIEVE me! 

then you - 

Broke-my-heart-and - 

DECEIVED me! 

when you 

Said you 

nev-er!-could - 

LEAVE me! 

But-its - 

Happ-nin'!-all-O-ver-AGAIN!

 

 The first two minutes of verse/chorusry is fab, but - once you know the record - acts as foreplay in anticipation of the extended chorus/ bridge/ reprise that the you know its leading towards: an extended section of multiple Lonnies exploring the situation from every possible vocal perspective. The effect of this section on the listener is deliriously exciting.

 Several things happen simultaneously. Lonnie reiterates "Happ-nin'!-all-O-ver-AGAIN!" what feels like a million times, but she also magically appears in another place, holding the note of "Agaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaain!" for an eon. Backing vox (some of whom sound a lot like Kylie Minogue to me) counterpoint the ecstasy of Lonnie's voice with an undertone of "BELIEVE", "DECEIVE" and "LEAVE". Lonnie protests "No! No! No!" and then we're in the breakdown bit, where a seductive analogue house bassline strokes the listener while Lonnie breaks free of language - "OH!WOOOAHWAH!" - the structure of the song no longer able to support the overpowering emotion.

 Although the lyrics of this are perfectly fine, its one of those singles that you respond to very much as a record, rather than as a song. It comes on and you instinctively throw yourself into it. You have to rush onto the dancefloor for this one! It offers such pleasure that it's just what you do. Which is very much in keeping with the pattern of returning to an unreliable boyfriend once again. BELIEVE me! Its Happ-nin'!-all-O-ver-AGAIN!

Tuesday, 1 February 2011

The Source & Candi Staton - You Got The Love (1991/ No. 3/ 38 weeks/ Truelove)


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o5a22_75rWE

"Sometimes I feel like
Throwing my hands up in the air
I know
I can count on you"

I'm not sure that I've written about a single with so much of an afterlife as this one before. It got to number 4 in 1991, and then remixed to 3 in 1997, and remixed again to 7 in 2006. And that's not to mention the recent regrettable cover version.


"Sometimes I feel like saying
Lord I just don't care
But you've got the love I need
To see me through"

I've rarely written about a single from such a modest provenance, either. The recording of Candi Staton used here was made for a keep-fit video in 1986, rather a minor job of work for such a great singer. But Staton's biography is a particularly troubled one, and she would have either been in - or recovering from - one of several terrible marriages, and either addicted to - or trying to recover from - something at the time. She certainly never seems to be very happy about this song in interviews, forgetting that she even sang it for years, feeling that her performance was below par, a guide vocal rather than a proper session.

"Sometimes it seeems that
The going is just too rough
And things go wrong
No matter what I do"

Which goes to show that proper singers never lose an innate and consummate sense of professionalism - mere mortals dream of singing like she does here! Its a song about redemption, but the redemptive force is inside Staton's voice in the first place, vulnerable and simultaneously full of the prospect of ecstasy. Its a compelling, dangerous, thing to hear, just like in 'Young Hearts Run Free', where the worldly-wise lived experience of awful marriage is offset by the joyous yearning for freedom.

"Now and theen I feel
That life is just too much
But you've got the love
I need to see me through"

Despite the inauspicious circumstances of recording, 'You Got the Love' got released, and a tiny bit of attention, in 1986 - enough for it to stay in a few people's minds and for them to realise its tremendous potential as a club track a few years later. The sparse house music setting certainly gives Candi a framework to call out to the listener, and makes every moment unremittingly tense;

blipablipblipablipblipablipblaipablip -
DONNGDANNG! DONNGDADONNGDANNG!

(There's even a sampled cackle incongruously buried in the mix!)

She's not singing about a boyfriend, of course, she's putting all her faith she has left in God. I wonder what uses listeners of this song have put it to... At a club, you'd play it late into the evening. The sense of desperation and ecstasy in the song mean that it would work best some hours into a night out, when you've had a few emotional knocks and promises by that stage, and were starting to be aware of fatigue.

"When food is gone
You are my daaiily meal
Mm-hm!
When friends are gone I know
My saviour's love iis reeaal
Your loove is real!"

And then this comes on, this voice in the wilderness that suddenly makes everything in life seem much more serious and necessary. Uh, this drug is starting to work now, perhaps that boy or girl might be the one... And Candi's voice, all that suffering and mess and yearning for redemption makes absolute sense. God!

"O-ccasionally -
My thoughts are brave and friends are few
O-ccasionally -
I cry out Lord what must I do?
O-ccasionally -
I call up Master make me new
You've got the love
I need to see me through"

Its the possibility of both sin and salvation. The source of pop's deepest power. Soul music.

Monday, 17 January 2011

Alex Party - Don't Give Me Your Life (1995/ No. 2/ 13 weeks/ Systematic)



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJQ4qMO0njQ&feature=related

Looking back at the charts of between about 1993 and 1995, one trend stands head and shoulders above anything else going on: This was the absolute golden age of Europop. Every week some delightful new diversion would arrive, be it from Holland, Sweden, Germany, Italy or Denmark; 2 Unlimited, Haddaway, Culture Beat, Urban Cookie Collective, Doop, Corona, Whigfield, Livin' Joy... Fresh, amusing, instantly memorable, fun - like pop oughtta be!

It couldn't last, of course. Two things eventually derailed it - the rise of trance music, and of dance reworkings of seventies choons designed to irritate pop swots such as myself. Neither genre could provide the sense of imaginative personality or the pleasurable potential of the classic Europop form.

Alex Party were Livin' Joy under another name; Italian brothers Paolo and Gianni Visnadi, DJ Alex Natale, plus singer-for-hire Shanie Campbell. Don't Give Me Your Life is a commendably functional record, in that it really serves its primary function of making you want to head to the dancefloor and start things going. This is achieved through the combination of two factors; pleasingly generic diva vocals, and - crucially - a spacious and uncluttered production, built around a few brilliant synthesised effects that any listener will automatically register and respond to;

Bloop! - Bloopabloopa - Bloop! - Bloopabloopa
Bloop! - Bloopabloopa - Bloop! - Bloopabloopa

You treated me baahad!
Now what can I say?

(miasmic) Wwuuwwuuwwuuwwuu!

Bloop! - Bloopabloopa - Bloop! - Bloopabloopa
Bloop! - Bloopabloopa - Bloop! - Bloopabloopa

You told me you loved me -
but it neverfeltthatway!

Wwuuwwuuwwuuwwuu!

The best synth effect of all is saved for the unambiguous chorus;

But don't you know?
I don't need -
I don't need your life!
Don't give me your life! Your life! Give me your life!

Bup bop! Bup bop! Bup! - Bup bop! Bup bop! Bup!

HEAAY AAY YOWH!
Don't give me your life! Your life! Give me your life!

Bup bop! Bup bop! Bup! - Bup bop! Bup bop! Bup!

HEAAY AAY YOWH!
Don't give me your life! Your life! Give me your life!

Bup bop! Bup bop! Bup! - Bup bop! Bup bop! Bup!

HEAAY AAY YOWH!
Don't give me your life! Your life! Give me your life!

Bup bop! Bup bop! Bup! - Bup bop! Bup bop! Bup!

HEAAY AAY YOWH!

Don't gimme - Don't gimme - Don't gimme - Don't gimme - Don't gimme your life!

There's something exceptionally pleasing about the Morse code "Bup bop! Bup bop! Bup! - Bup bop! Bup bop! Bup!" bit, in a way that triggers a childlike, instinctive, part of the brain. To be heard in optimum conditions, even better than on a transistor or in a disco, this would work brilliantly at the fairground.

It's not a song that demands lyrical close reading, but it is clear that the heartache of the singer is gonna get exorcised through the act of dancing; "I can't be doing with this anymore! Let's just drop this! Okay? Don't give me your life!" She hears the siren call of the Bloop! - Bloopabloopa - Bloop! - Bloopabloopa and rushes to the dancefloor to be done with this boyfriend complication, reaching out for a higher and more reliable form of affirmation, only to be found in the rhythms of the club.

Tuesday, 11 January 2011

Haddaway - What Is Love? (1993/ No. 2/ 15 weeks/ Logic)


"What is love?
Baby don't hurt me
Don't hurt me
No more
Baby don't hurt me
Don't hurt me
No more"

Here's a record that transcends its function. Its commercial purpose is to act as a suitable soundtrack for couples to hook up to on dance floors, but - even while its the definitive disc to achieve that noble purpose - the wealth of longing in the record gives it a striking emotional depth.

Why? Because it gives us the most vulnerable moment of the glory days of Europop. It allows for the existence of doubt and pain, making the stakes almost unbearably high. The rhythm stops stone dead at points. Haddaway's yearnings are partially responded to by a spectral wail from the loved other. The prospect of failure and rejection is all over the minimal lyrics - "I would die"!

I can't think of any other single that would make the encounter with the loved other seem so triumphant, or its failure to occur seem so crushing.

Perhaps I just haven't moved on very much since 1993...

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

Roxette - It Must Have Been Love (1990/ No. 3/ 22 weeks/ EMI)


Hurray! A POWER ballad - Maybe nobody did rock-styled Europop better than Roxette in the 1990s. The reason for this is found in the title of their first greatest hits album Don't Bore Us! Get To The Chorus!, a sentiment which I can only wholeheartedly endorse.

Everything in this single serves to build up the listeners' anticipation to hear - and participate in - a great vast singalong, wave your hands in the air, communal eruption of choric pleasure.

We start with a prefiguring of the chorus' motif, in restrained tones from the male supporting voice;

It must have been lorve
But its ovfer now...

There are just two verses here. They serve their purpose well enough, in establishing that this is a lost love song (as if we haven't gathered that already). They range from being effective in a sketchy scene-setting functional manner;

I wake up lonely.
Is there a silence?
In the bedroom

- To being a bit tongue tied in a rather charming sort of way;

In and outside
I turn to water
Like a teardrop
In your palm

The chorus, however is the type of thing that you think that you already know the first time that you hear it (and if you remember 'I Know Him So Well' by Elaine Paige & Barbara Dickson, that might be part of the reason...);

It must have been lorve!
But it's OOO-VFER NOWE!
It must have been GOOD!
But I lost it some-how!

Having hit upon this definitively strong passage, what Roxette do with it is fabulous; The prefiguring before the first verse, then the first appearance of the chorus, and then - quite magnificently - the second time that we get the chorus it doubles in size, with a slow middle-eight bit;

It's where the water flows...
It's where the wind blows...

That takes up less time than another verse would and means that, having come up for air, we can immediately immerse ourselves in more chorus, this time with the ending that we'd been led to expect ("From the mo-ment we TOUCHED! Till the time had RUN OUT!"). Then having gone though it again, the logical next step occurs. We hear it again, but bigger, with backing vocals, echoing the lyrics and adding an exciting new harmony to the tune.

That was fun! I'd like to hear that again!

A word of praise about the singing, which manages in its full-heartedness to be lusty without resorting to caterwauling. And no horrible guitar (or even worse, saxophone) solos weigh the thing down with leaden emoting, as is often the case in inferior works of this kind.

If you wanted to criticize this, I suppose that you could say that its a pretty generic portrait of lost love, and doesn't exactly tell any sort of story. But really, who cares, when Roxette achieve four minutes of relentless catharsis?