How much of an
achievement is it to be the greatest '80s band from New Zealand? While
you think of the answer to that question, let me tell you about Split
Enz.
A couple of years ago, I downloaded History Never
Repeats - The Best of Split Enz, and I liked it. So then I downloaded
the bands' first seven albums. Which is ... all of their albums, except
for two. You know what? They're all pretty good.
Initially,
under the leadership of Tim Finn and Phil Judd, Split Enz began as sort
of a poppy progressive rock band in the vein of Supertramp or 10cc
(even enlisting Roxy Music guitarist Phil Manzanera as the producer of
their second album). But right around 1977, Judd left and was replaced
by Tim's younger brother Neil. Partly because the music scene was
shifting, and partly because Neil could barely play the guitar, Split
Enz' songs, such as "My Mistake," became zippier and more concise.
According
to Wikipedia, "their 'look' – a mixture of the weird and the whimsical –
drew on influences like the circus, music hall, gothic horror,
Expressionist cinema, pantomime, psychedelia, surrealism, and modern art
– all filtered through the band's bizarre demeanour and crazed on-stage
antics." It was as if the group were trying to say, "Hey British bands:
you think you're eccentric? We're from New Zealand, bitches, and this is eccentric."
By
their fourth album Frenzy, Split Enz began displaying a noticeably
heavier influence from British New Wave acts such as XTC and Elvis
Costello, as "I See Red" demonstrates. Looks like Tim forgot to take his meds that day.
But soon, little
brother Neil was all grown up and writing singles of his own! "I Got
You" was the band's biggest hit, reaching #1 in Australia, #12 in the
UK, and #53 in the US. Sure, #53 doesn't sound like much of a hit (the
album it appeared on, True Colours, did peak at #40, which means
that, technically, Split Enz had a US Top 40 album), but apparently the
video became an early MTV staple, at least according to a very reliable
source: Belinda Carlisle. From Lips Unsealed:
When I
think back on those early days of MTV, all I remember seeing is a lot of
the Split Enz hit "I Got You." I noticed them because of a funny thing
that happened a year earlier when I was living at Disgraceland. It was
the night we were having one of the more infamous parties in that
place's history, an event we had dubbed the Forbidden Foods Party. It
was girls only - no boys allowed. About thirty of us got together, and
the two requirements for admission were that you had to wear a negligee
and bring the most fattening food you could find.
We
were in the middle of this party, drinking from a giant bowl of alcohol
punch, dancing around, eating, and acting crazy, when there was a knock
at the door. We opened it and Neil Finn and some of the guys from Split
Enz were standing there. They said they had just come to town and heard
there was a party, so they showed up. It made perfect sense to me. What
do you do when you get to town? You find out where the party is and go.
So I told them to come on in and enjoy themselves.
Wait, what about the "girls only" thing? Aw, forget it.
How
could they not? There were thirty girls prancing around half-naked,
eating pizza, French fries, cannolis, and cream puffs. They didn't know
what hit them. To this day, whenever I see Neil, he says, "Do you
remember that party?" And there's always a twinkle in his eye.
I'll
bet there is.
At any rate, after Neil and the others thankfully survived the
Forbidden Foods Party, the band released a couple more
albums and continued to have Top 10 hits in Australia, such as Neil's
"One Step Ahead," but they still couldn't quite capitalize on the success of "I Got You." And that, as they say, was the enz
of Split Enz.
However, Neil eventually formed Crowded House, a
group which occasionally featured Tim but was essentially led by Neil,
and in 1987 they had a small hit with some song that nobody really remembers.
If you put the words "woman," "rocked," and "80s" into a Google
search engine, the first thing that would probably pop up is a picture
of Pat Benatar.
Pat Benatar had the ultimate '80s
rocker name: "Pat" is androgynous, and "Benatar" sounds like a cross
between a Bengal tiger and a centaur. In addition, Pat Benatar's period
of commercial success is exclusively confined by the '80s; she had her
first Top 40 hit in 1980 and her last in 1988. She is '80s incarnate.
But
truth be told, I never much cared for Pat Benatar. I always thought "Hit Me
With Your Best Shot" was annoying. I thought "Love Is A Battlefield" was
one of those songs people only liked because it was cheesy and from the
'80s, not because it was actually good. But leave it to Little Earl to
discover the hidden gems of the Benatar catalog.
Originally,
Benatar had been training to be an opera singer, then she decided she
wanted to be Liza Minnelli, and obviously ended up being neither. But
the woman had some serious range, which gave her "hard rock" songs kind
of a funny, high-pitched quality, as displayed on her first hit,
"Heartbreaker," which climbed to #23 in 1980. I can't really tell if
she's supposed to like the guy ("You're the right kind of sinner/To
release my inner fantasy") or hate the guy ("You're a heartbreaker/Dream
maker/Love taker/Don't you mess around with me"), but who cares, it
rocks.
"Treat Me Right" was another dynamite slice of Benatar's patented "hard rock that's basically a pop song."
Say it's 1981, and you bought yourself a brand new copy of Benatar's Crimes Of Passion.
You were lured in by "Hit Me With Your Best Shot," maybe "Treat Me Right," possibly even "You Better Run," a song that holds the distinction
of being the second video ever played on MTV. Suddenly you come to an album track called "Hell Is For Children."
They cry in the dark, so you can't see their tears
They hide in the light, so you can't see their fears
Forgive and forget, all the while
Love and pain become one and the same
In the eyes of a wounded child
Because Hell
Hell Is For children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell
Hell Is For children
And you shouldn't have to pay for your love with your bones and your flesh
It's all so confusing, this brutal abusing
They blacken your eyes, and then apologize
You're daddy's good girl, and don't tell mommy a thing
Be a good little boy, and you'll get a new toy
Tell grandma you fell off the swing
Uh
... what the deuce? You were trying to rock out to Pat Benatar and then
suddenly you got hit with a song about ... child abuse?
She may have been talented in many ways, but Joan Jett doesn't appear to
have been the most prolific songwriter; most of her big hits have been
cover versions of other people's songs. But hey, Elvis didn't write
songs, either. Anyway, its not what you cover, but how you cover it.
"Crimson and
Clover" was a #1 hit for Tommy James & the Shondells in 1969.
Tommy James is the kind of artist who had about a thousand hits that
everyone still knows, but nobody realizes that they were all by Tommy
James & the Shondells. That's partly because his hits didn't
always sound the same, and partly because he had no unifying artistic
vision. Also, at a time when rock bands were starting to make albums,
Tommy James was churning out shamelessly catchy singles. In a sense,
"Crimson and Clover" was hipper and edgier than most of them, with its
trippy lyrics, spaced-out wah-wah guitar solo, and infamous vocal
phasing where it sounds like someone is hitting Tommy James repeatedly
in the chest.
Well, Joan Jett does away with all that.
She strips the song to its balls. It's almost as if she had no time to
rehearse or add any extra flourishes and she just had to do it in one
take and not fuck anything up. No trippy wah-wah guitar solo for her. The woman even bites roses in half, all right?
But that's the key to a good
cover: come up with some cool production and don't ruin what was
already good about the song to begin with. Rule #1: if a cover version
of a song just makes you really want to go listen to the original
version, then you blew it.
For example: Jett's cover of
Sly & The Family Stone's "Everyday People"(!). Perhaps not all
Joan Jett covers of #1 hits from 1969 are created equal. While the appeal of the original
"Crimson and Clover" was rooted in its abstract lyrical imagery and
studio trickery, the appeal of the original "Everyday People" was rooted
in its soulful groove and sincere plea for racial tolerance, or, in
other words, it was Sly & the Family Stone. I have no
doubt that Jett loved Sly & the Family Stone. Well look, I love
Sly & the Family Stone too, but you don't see me trying to do a
glam rock cover version of "Everybody Is A Star" now, do you?
I used to keep a list of all my favorite albums by year of release. It was quite a sight to behold. I think 1969, 1970, and 1973 were the overall champions, but even so, I had at least one album per year for every
year from about 1964 through 2001. Every year, that is, except for one:
1981. Once I thought I had it when I added The Clash's Sandinista! to
the list, but nope - released in December 1980. Damn. Well, the
moment I heard Beauty and the Beat, I knew: I had finally found my 1981
album.
Some albums alter the course of popular
music forever. Some albums tie up everything that came before them and
influence everything that comes after. Some albums shake the very
foundation of rock 'n' roll to its core.
The Go-Go's' Beauty and the Beat ... is probably not one of those albums.
But
some albums manage to capture the energy of life in all its chaotic
splendor. These albums are made by artists who are too busy actually
living their lives to stop and realize just how skillfully their music
is expressing their feelings. Beauty and the Beat is the essence of
being young and confused and excited and terrified and bitter and
hopeful all at once. Beauty and the Beat is the sound of having nothing
to lose and everything to gain. Beauty in the Beat is the sound of God
and Satan making love in your living room.
On the surface,
the album is a collection of seemingly conventional pop songs. If
someone put a gun to my head and demanded to know just what makes this
album so amazing, I'm not sure I could explain it in a word or two. I
would also probably run for my life and call the police. But the point
is, Beauty and the Beat is not great because it explodes the boundaries
of rock 'n' roll. You want boundaries exploding? Try Remain In Light, or Closer. No, Beauty and the Beat is great because every song is fucking great.
At some point, when not ingesting animal tranquilizer and tying up
unsuspecting teenage boys in their basement, Charlotte and Jane happened
to turn into a terrific songwriting duo. They complimented each other
perfectly: Charlotte with her classical training, and Jane with her
primitive, intuitive, "I don't even know how to plug in my amplifier"
approach.
Indeed, I'm a sucker for the underdog.
That's partly why I love the Beatles, or Elvis, or Ray Charles, or ABBA,
or Oasis, or any number of acts whom no one at the time expected would
achieve the success they did. No, the Go-Go's did not know that the
album was going to be successful while they were making it. But I know that the album was going to be successful, and somehow that influences my affection for it.
Stephen
Thomas Erlewine writes that the album is "infectiously cheerful pop"
and radiates "an exuberant sense of fun." "Infectious" and "exuberant"
perhaps, but "fun" and "cheerful"? Clearly Mr. Erlewine wasn't listening
closely enough. Nearly every song on Beauty and the Beat is full of
angst and anguish. If this album had a motto, it would be, "Let's party
really hard so that we don't have to think about how depressed we are."
Although only two measly cuts were released as
singles (as Erlewine writes, "So big were these two hits that they
sometimes suggested that Beauty and the Beat was a hits-and-filler
record, an impression escalated by the boost the Go-Go's received from
the just-launched MTV"), to these ears at least, every track is pretty
much an A, except for maybe "Automatic," which is about a B+ (still, a
B+ is pretty good). That said, I'd like to write about four songs in
particular.
The third song on the album is the Go-Go's'
addition to the immense catalog of songs named "Tonight", featuring
works by David Bowie, Elton John, Def Leppard, The Soft Boys, Nick Lowe,
Ozzy Osbourne, The Raspberries, and Leonard Bernstein and Stephen
Sondheim, among many others, although the Go-Go's actually named the
song using the less common variation, "Tonite," so you've got to hand it
to them (let's also not forget Smashing Pumpkins' "Tonight, Tonight"
and Genesis' "Tonight, Tonight, Tonight" while we're at it). But none of
those Tonites sounded quite like this one:
The street lights are shining bright
The billboards are shedding their light
And my crowd's hanging around tonite
There's a charge in the air
It's kind of electric out there
And we're all out on the town
Action - gonna track it down
Gonna turn some heads tonite
There's nothing, there's no one to stand in our way
Get dressed up and messed up, blow our cares away
Our mind's set on seeing this night through till day
We rule the streets tonite, until the morning (light)
Although
the lyrics seem to suggest triumph and escape, what I really hear, the
way the band performs it, is mostly desperation and self-destruction.
But the great thing about the song is that it's a little bit of all of
that. As the user who published the clip on YouTube put it, "The Go-Go's
just make you want to party with wild abandon and give in to all your
hedonistic desires."
Another of the album's
raging downers is "Fading Fast," sort of an '80s version of Burt
Bacharach and Hal David's "Walk On By." In an interview clip in the
Totally Go-Go's concert video, Belinda stares blankly into space and
explains, "I sorta like 'Fading Fast,' 'cause, um, I can relate to that
about ten times over in my life, like getting rid of people that I don't
want to see anymore and that keep on haunting you. I can relate to that
one pretty much." Yeah I'll bet.
You thought that I was on your side
And I'd do anything for you
But you found out yesterday that you were wrong
I opened up the door, I said we were through
And now you're calling me
You want me back again
But I've just got to turn my head
And start to pretend
I've never seen you
You're someone I don't know
Are you just another boy
That I met long ago
You can talk about old times
They don't mean a thing to me
You're fading fast, out of my memory
So basically she dumps the guy, but she still feels like shit. This is "bright and fun," eh?
At
any rate, you're probably wondering, did Belinda ever actually do
anything in this band besides cast spells on boys with her menstrual
fluid and snort coke? Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you "Skidmarks On My
Heart."
Although Charlotte composed the music to
"Skidmarks On My Heart," the lyrics were written by none other than our
inimitable lead singer. The words may not be particularly intellectual
or profound (and some of the rhymes are a bit of a stretch), but as a
pastiche of early '60s hot rod songs, they are, in their own way, rather
brilliant:
You sure know how to hurt a girl
Fewer hugs and no more kisses
Just water for your carburetor
And bearings for your pistons
Rev her engine for your pleasure
Caress and fondle her steering wheel
When you moan and hug her gear shift
Stop! Think how it makes me feel
Skidmarks on my heart
You've got me in fifth
You're burning rubber like my love
I buy you cologne
You want axle grease
You say get a mechanic
I say get a shrink
I need promises
You need Motor Trend
Our love needs an overhaul
Or this may be the end
Bravo, Belinda, bravo.
Almost
all the tracks on Beauty and the Beat are, on the surface at least,
some variation of a love song. But there is one track, "This Town," that
expresses larger cultural commentary. The town in question, of course,
is Los Angeles.
We all know the chosen toys
Of catty girls and pretty boys
Make up that face, jump in the race
Life's a kick in this town
This town is our town
It is so glamorous
Bet you'd live here if you could and be one of us
Change the lines that were said before
We're all dreamers, we're all whores
Discarded stars like worn out cars
Litter the streets of this town
Ladies
and gentlemen: irony! See, the catch is, although the Go-Go's seem to
be saying that their town is "so glamorous" and that you should want to
live in L.A. and be one of them, what they really mean is that L.A. is phony and sleazy and you do not want to live there and be one of them.
And
here is where Belinda is the Go-Go's' secret weapon. No, she didn't
have anything to do with the writing of this song. But every single vocal
choice she makes in this particular performance is perfect. I mean perfect.
The first time she sings "It is so glamorous," she sings it as if
there's a period after every word, like "It. Is. So. Glamorous." You can
practically feel the sarcasm dripping from her supposedly sweet
and innocent California lips. The implication is, "You see this image,
and you think you want to be exactly like me. But believe me, folks, you
don't want to be anything like me." And I believe her. And the way she
sings "bet" right afterward, with a little snarl - I can practically taste
the self-loathing. And on the last go-round of the chorus, she does
some other wonderful things like add these aching high notes to "it's our town" and then does some funky scanning with "I'll bet you'd live here ... ifyoucould and be oneofus." Yes! Yes! Yes!!!
There's
something extra poignant about these five supposedly healthy and
attractive young women already being so cynical and jaded about life in
Los Angeles and the world in general. You mean I wasn't the only
22-year-old who thought everyone was full of shit? And this was only
their first album. Didn't anybody tell them they were supposed to wait
until their second album before they started complaining about how much
L.A. stinks?
But there's another emotion I get from
"This Town" beside self-loathing and cynicism, and that's pity. Not pity
for themselves, but pity for an American culture that elevates the
lifestyle Southern Californians are supposedly living to such desirable
heights. It's like they're saying, "We wish life really wasn't this way.
We wish our culture valued other things. But it doesn't." There's a
tremendous sense of waste.
And yet, the Go-Go's manage to say all of this by not saying this. And that, my friends, is why I proclaim, only half-jokingly, that Beauty and the Beat is the greatest album of all time.
Perhaps hoping to re-create the male-female dynamic the Specials had
briefly experienced when the Go-Go's made a cameo appearance on their second album,
the Fun Boy Three decided to collaborate with a
previously unknown female trio going by the vowel-challenged name of
Bananarama. From whence did this "Bananarama" appear?
The trio were ardent followers of the punk rock and post-punk
music scene during the late 1970s and early 1980s and often performed
impromptu sets or backing vocals at gigs for such bands as The
Monochrome Set, Iggy Pop, The Jam, Department S, and The Nipple
Erectors.
Ah yes, the Nipple Erectors - their future seemed so bright. Pity the bassist had to die in a sewage accident. Speaking of sewage accidents, here's a tidbit about Malcolm McLaren:
During
this early period Bananarama were approached by Malcolm McLaren, who
offered to manage the group. McLaren, manager of the Sex Pistols, Adam
and the Ants, and Bow Wow Wow,
and notorious for generating scandal, proposed some new material that
was sexually suggestive, and did not fit with what at the time was the
band's tomboyish and straightforward image. Bananarama passed on both
the material and McLaren as their manager.
The girls were clearly better off with the Fun Boy Three, as "It Ain't What You Do (It's That Way That You Do It)" demonstrates.
While
that song was officially credited to "the Fun Boy Three with Bananarama,"
their next collaboration, a quirky cover of the Velvelette's "He Was Really Saying Something," was credited to "Bananarama with Fun Boy Three." Key
distinction, apparently. Although the Velvelettes were an obscure Motown
group and "He Was Really Saying Something" was only a minor hit, I must
boast that I in fact knew the song and even had the original version in
my mp3 collection. Take that, Terry Hall!
I've
always felt that songs about rock and roll are kind of stupid. If a
song wants to rock, it should just rock; it shouldn't sit around and
talk about how much it's rocking. Did "Jumpin' Jack Flash" stop and say,
"Hey, look at me everybody, I'm totally rocking right now"? No. No it
did not. Did "Purple Haze" pull over to the side of the road and say,
"Hot damn, I am really rocking like nobody's business"?
That's
why I always thought Joan Jett's "I Love Rock 'n' Roll" was kind of
silly. I mean, if you really loved rock and roll that much, you wouldn't
need to tell me; it would already be understood. In fact, the more you
tell me how much you love rock and roll, the more I'm inclined to doubt
that you really do. Me thinks the Joan doth protest too much.
I
also thought it was silly how she brags about some attractive young man
"moving on and he was with me - yeah me." I mean, he wasn't moving along with me, was he? No, he was moving along with you. Why should I care about your flirting success and not mine?
However,
it turns out that Joan Jett didn't actually write "I Love Rock 'n'
Roll" (it was written in the mid-70s by an obscure British band named the Arrows), which
makes the declaration a little less self-serving. Instead of "Hey, look at me, I'm trying to create a rock anthem," it's more
like, "Hey, I found this song that somebody else wrote in the '70s that I really dig, so I'm going to use it to rock out." Having discovered that piece of information, and
also appreciating all manner of '80s music anew, I have to say that I
now like this song and agree with those who are inclined to share their
supposed affection for rock and roll.
If pressed, I
have to admit that the song does, indeed, rock. The guitars crunch. The
drums pump. The vocals shred. It's not false advertising. On the other
hand, certain mustachioed tunesmiths may have agreed with my original
view that such blatantly anthemic statements are ripe for ridicule.
2012 may not have brought about the apocalypse, but it did produce a slew of excellent small games. So excellent in fact that multiple media outlets have awarded the small games Journey and The Walking Dead game of the year. Journey comes from thatgamecompany, who brought us 2009's Flower. The Walking Dead, based on the comic/TV series, comes from Telltale Games. Unfortunately, I haven't played either (my Playstation 3 broke this summer so I haven't played Journey, and no matter what good words people say about The Walking Dead I'm just not that interested in zombies, even if those zombies are used as a metaphor for the human condition). Instead, I'll discuss here those small games that I did manage to play in 2012. Ready? To the Moon (Freebird Games)
To the Moon was a game with a great premise. You play the role of two scientists who have been summoned to a dying man's house. The man has a last wish, he wants to go "to the moon". These scientists have the means that will allow the dying man to accomplish this. Using a fancy machine the scientists are able to enter the dying man's mind and relive his memories, subtly altering them so that the dying man will have the memory of going to the moon. One part Inception, and one part Citizen Kane, the premise and overall idea of To the Moon is brilliant. The game utilizes a retro 16 bit art style, so it looks like an old Final Fantasy game from the 90's. While the gameplay itself isn't very deep- it's basically a point-and-click adventure- the story draws on a lot of emotional strings, from the gentlepiano pieces that it uses, to the secrets the two scientists find in the dying man's memories. Even the idea of going "to the moon" may not have meaning it initially appears to.
Unfortunately much of the emotional impact the game is undercut by one of the scientist characters. Nearly every time something poignant happens, he's there to make some sassy or sarcastic comment. It's like watching the end of the movie Titanic with Rose about to say goodbye to Jack forever with the whole theater on the verge of tears when some guy blurts out "Hey buddy why don't you just get on the flotsam with her, ya big dummy!".
I kept thinking that the creators of the game thought up this grand emotional tale but didn't want to be seen as sissies by their guy friends, so they made sure to have a completely annoying and unnecessary character ruin several moments of potentially great emotional impact. Despite this, I guarantee that you will probably find yourself in tears as the final scene plays out.
Fez (Polytron)
I've already discussed my love of Fez and needless to say, I still think it was an absolutely fantastic game. A perfect homage to videogames of the 80's, Fez managed to make me feel like a kid all over again.
Alan Wake's American Nightmare (Remedy Entertainment)
A semi-sequel to 2010's Alan Wake (which I wrote about), this small downloadable title continues the adventure of the titular author who finds himself trapped in his own nightmares. Breaking free of "the dark place" from the first game, Alan Wake- ahem... wakes up in a semi-real bit of Arizona, having surrendered some of his memory in order to do so. The game tasks Alan with recovering those memories in a style reminiscent of Groundhog Day. While it continues with the same style of gameplay as the original, American Nightmare introduces a real nemesis, an alter-ego version of Alan named Mr. Scratch (whose name, in a small bit of brilliance, is never actually pronounced, with only the sound of a scratched record whenever anyone says his name). Mr. Scratch is an excellent foil to Alan, a womanizing douchebag who knows Alan's plans since he essentially is Alan.
Like the original, the game has excellent voice acting. Alan Wake really does come across as a real life horror novelist stuck in his own story. On top of this, the entire game is taking place inside an episode of "Night Springs" (think Twilight Zone) which is sold well by having the game narrated by a Rod Serling soundalike. While the gameplay itself isn't very challenging, the game has just enough flair and humor to recommend it. You can watch the first few minutes here to get a taste of just how self-aware this game is (for example, I love how the episode of Night Springs is "written by Alan Wake").
--------------
That's it for now, as soon as I finish up one last small game I picked up during the holiday Steam sale I'll be back with part 2.
I've been posting about my love of VNV Nation for years now, and after a recently successful in-person live Cosmic American get together fellow blogger Little Earl asked for a VNV playlist. Now, how could I resist a request like that?
Since there's so many good songs by VNV I had to decide what my emphasis would be. I came up with three options: A- a purely 'best of VNV' playlist, B- a mix that would emulate the style and flow of a VNV album, or C- a mix that would show how VNV Nation's sound has evolved over the years. I decided to go with C, with an emphasis on how Ronan Harris, over time, found his voice. In early works you can barely hear him growling in the background. But by the time you get to 2005's Homeward he's a regular crooner (well he still doesn't really have much range, but he sounds a hell of a lot better).
The mix also demonstrates the overall transition that VNV have undergone, how their music began in the depths of 90's EBM/Industrial music and transitioned into the "alternative electronic" (their words) of today. Ronan Harris has a real ear for production, and you can hear it in most of VNV's later tracks.
A few notes: In order to keep this mix somewhat short I had to make a lot of hard choices. With eight albums under their belt, I started with just two songs from each album. I added a few additional songs from the "Empires" period (generally considered their tour-de-force), reduced their first album (Advance & Follow) to one song as well as 2007's "Judgement", and added in a version of Honour 2003, which was an updated remake of the original Honour, the song they are most known for. Since the mix focuses on Harris's voice, I did not include any instrumentals, something else VNV are generally good at - so no, there's no Electronaut here. I chose Youtube clips that included lyrics in the description (special thanks to user BartyMae for uploading nearly every VNV song with lyrics).
Once upon a time, Terry and Jane had a little secret. From a Jane Wiedlin interview with Songfacts.com:
In 1980 we
were playing at The Whiskey on Sunset Strip, and The Specials were in
town from England, and they came to see us, and they really liked us and
asked us if we would be their opening act on their tour. I met Terry
Hall, the singer of The Specials, and ended up having kind of a romance.
He sent me the lyrics to "Our Lips Are Sealed" later in the mail, and
it was kind of about our relationship, because he had a girlfriend at
home and all this other stuff ... So I don't know how I got in the picture. And, you know,
that's something that I did as a teenager, maybe I was 20. That's
something I would never do now, knowingly enter into a relationship with
someone who was with someone else. I mean, it was completely screwed on
my part. Although I think when people do that, you really have to look
at the person who's in the relationship, and they have to take the
burden of the responsibility as well. Anyways, it was one of those
things with the tragic letters, "I just can't do this." You know, "I'm
betrothed to another." All that kind of stuff ... So it was all very dramatic. I really
liked the lyrics, so I finished the lyrics and wrote the music to it,
and the rest is history.
Well, isn't it nice to be Terry Hall? Your correspondence becomes hit songs. You don't even have to do anything!
Some
time ago, I wrote that "Our Lips Are Sealed" sounded like a "fun,
retro, early '60s girl group song that didn't strive toward anything
profound," but I liked it anyway. Well, maybe it strove for something
profound after all. As it would so often do, I think the Go-Go's
sprightly sound camouflaged a very emotionally barbed situation:
Can you hear them?
They talk about us
Telling lies
Well, that's no surprise
Can you see them?
See right through them
They have no shield
No secrets to reveal
It doesn't matter what they say
In the jealous games people play
Our lips are sealed
There's a weapon
That we must use
In our defense
Silence
When you look at them
Look right through them
That's when they'll disappear
That's when we'll be feared
These
are actually some pretty great lyrics! Hell, if you were merely just
looking at them on a cold, indifferent page, you might imagine a song
that sounded like any number of things. I mean, the Go-Go's performance is
so bouncy and carefree, it took me a long time before I actually noticed
how bitter and vengeful the words are. Silence as a weapon? Hey, better than
just enjoying the silence - right, Depeche Mode?
In
light of subsequent versions, some have gone on to say that the Go-Go's
recording, and Belinda's "come on it's time to party"
vocal style, may have masked the complexity of the lyrical content.
While possibly true, this does not seem to me like a criticism. After
all, "Our Lips Are Sealed" is many things to many people. In the Go-Go's hands, it was the perfect summer pop hit. As
AMG's Stewart Mason writes in his song review:
...it's the small touches
in the arrangement ... that elevate it from very good to
outstanding: the backbeat-and-tambourines opening, the subtle organ
line, the infectious "hey-hey-hey" that leads up to the chorus. The
song's most transcendent moment, however, is the glorious bridge, sung
by Wiedlin in a sweetly vulnerable falsetto that's even higher than her
normal helium-pitched singing voice.
Yes, Jane was
even honored with a brief lead singing role, which, off the top of my
head, is her only such appearance on a Go-Go's recording. Likewise,
Kathy lays down a tasty bass line, Gina rocks what the band considered a
"disco" beat, and Charlotte churns out some chiming, Byrds-ish guitar
licks. But when the song climbed the charts in late 1981, it wasn't
Gina, Kathy, Charlotte, or Jane whom listeners noticed.
Although
people seem to remember "Our Lips Are Sealed" as being some sort of
monster hit, and arguably the Go-Go's most famous song, in reality it
only peaked on the U.S. charts at #20 (although it climbed to #3 in
Canada and #2 in Australia, where it is fondly known by the mondegreen
"Alex the Seal"). But it had legs, as they say, sticking around long
enough to place at #63 on Billboard's year-end Top 100 of 1982 list,
slightly ahead of America's "You Can Do Magic," which originally peaked
at #8, and A Flock of Seagulls' "I Ran (So Far Away)," which originally
peaked at #4. That's pretty good. But ultimately, what probably made the
song such a big hit in the public's mind was a certain video clip,
filmed with some leftover Police budget money, which happened to be placed in heavy rotation by a brand new television network.
Which brings me to the other thing that probably helped: a certain lead singer must have
lost a little weight, because by the time the Go-Go's filmed the video
for "Our Lips Are Sealed," the formerly frumpy punk rocker now looked
like this:
The sky cracked open, the trumpets blared, and peace and goodwill reigned throughout the earth. Gods wept, demons howled.
Hot Belinda was born.
Oh my dayum.
Ladies
and gentlemen, here it was: the face that launched a thousand wanks.
It's funny to think, of course, about the Belinda that people didn't
see: the purple hair, the trashbag dress, the abusive stepfather, the
witchcraft, the long nights in the basement of an L.A. porn theater,
feasting on oatmeal and Sweet 'N' Low. Oh no, the very first time most
young American males saw Belinda Carlisle, they saw this:
Suddenly,
in this magical new incarnation, she was every teenage
boy's high school dream. The video actually cuts back and forth between
footage of the band driving around in a convertible and footage of the
band performing at a club. I'm not saying Belinda doesn't look good in
that sleeveless rainbow dress (or whatever it may happen to be), but
I'm definitely going for the onstage Belinda here, with the sabertooth
tiger necklace and that little gold ribbon in her hair - oh God, the
ribbon!!
Judging by several YouTube comments, I am not alone in my opinion. But the anonymity of YouTube has granted viewers free license to state their appreciation in cruder, more vulgar terminology than the language I might use:
lead singer is fine as hell
Damn! That singer is a fuckin' CUTIE!! :D
Ahhhh Belinda Carlisle!! Massive childhood crush ha ha....
Rape me Belinda....PLEASE!!!
Oh Belinda, you should have never left me for fame and fortune. You know we could have lived out our lives in that quaint bungalow that the town folk called a "shed". It doesn't matter what they said Belinda! Its just the jealous games people play!
As a teen of 80's ,who in gods name need's viagra after seeing this!
These girls were responsible for my first real erection. Don't laugh. I've still got it!
Belinda Carlise is by far the HOTTEST BABE EVER in rock!! As one previous commentor noted," a nice tan a great smile."
Who would not want to Fuck the shit out Of Belinda, I was a kid when this video came out and I want to do it then.
God .... Belinda Carlisle was (is) so freaking hot.
I'm still hopelessly addicted to Belinda and Jane. If a cure comes along, I'll kick its ass!
Belinda C. Oww! And I'm gay, but she is hot.
Belinda was always going to go far with that voice, being hot helps
oh wow...there's something about BC with that ribbon in her hair...jzzzzz
Belinda Carlisle......sooooo hot.....want to touch the hiney.
Other commentators are slightly more critical:
Brenda Carlyle...is that what everyone is wanking off to? LOL....she looks like a female Thomas Dolby. Yeesh, get a life.
At least two of them are dikes, and Belinda is the only really attractive one...though she's a mental screw-up.
At 2.37 and 2.38 in the fountainpool she shows her underwear with an unshaved pussy :)
Wondering if she shaved her bikiniline.
Very untastefull.
Belinda 0-1 for your apperance.
lol it sounds like they're saying "they talk about us, selling my ass at a lacklustre price"
i love knowing Belinda was all fucked up
the sexual comments on this page is sad. as if Belinda would touch any of you with a barge pole
Of course, our ultimate teen dream queen clearly sensed how crucial MTV would be to the band's success, right? From Lips Unsealed:
I was clueless about the impact it would have on music, fashion, and pop culture.
Just
to show where my head was at, I thought making a music video was a
stupid idea. I had grumbled about it being a waste of time and asked why
I had to do it. It just seemed ridiculous, and so I gave it a
half-assed effort. I couldn't even be bothered to get out of the car
when, after tooling around in the convertible, we pulled up in front of
Trashy Lingerie and Jane did her solo, singing, "Hush, my darling." If
you look close, you can see me hiding; I'm bent down but the top of my
head shows.
We also tried to amuse ourselves by getting
arrested. That's how we ended up frolicking in the water fountain at
the intersection of Wilshire and Santa Monica boulevards. We thought if
we jumped in, a cop would see us, stop, and there'd be a confrontation,
which we would capture on tape. But nobody came to arrest us. Cars just
slowed and some guys honked and whistled at us.
Hey,
the Beatles had the same idea with the rooftop concert, but all that
ended up happening was that some policeman simply knocked on the studio
door and politely asked them to stop playing. At any rate, it's
precisely that "don't give a shit" attitude that makes this video so
precious. I mean, a thousand monkeys at a thousand typewriters could not
re-create the video for "Our Lips Are Sealed." It is such a pure
snapshot of the moment. Who wouldn't want to ride around in a
convertible and jump into fountains all day? It makes being a Go-Go seem
like the most awesome occupation in the world. Of course, little did
people know, but these five fresh, lively young women feasted on elvish
babies in their free time.
Meanwhile, as Miles Copeland
watched the rough cut in his office, and saw that bright, angelic face
fill the screen, the dollar signs began flashing across his eyes.
In America in 1983, Madness came out of "nowhere" and released their "only" hit, "Our House."
When friends in college used to play "Our House" on the stereo, they would get this look on their
faces which seemed to suggest thoughts such as "Who sings about
their house? What a silly topic for a song!" But instead of this being an
amusing insight, this was only an unintentional comment on the sad state
of American pop music, where 95% of radio hits are generic love songs.
When confronted with music that is not about a boy/girl relationship,
the typical American listener does not know how to respond. He or she
experiences discomfort and embarrassment, and covers up these feelings
with defensive humor. The question, my friends, isn't "Who sings about
their house?," but rather, "Why doesn't everybody sing about their
house?"
I'm not surprised Madness didn't have many
American hits; they were more British than the Queen's armpit hair. I am
somewhat surprised, however, that their one big American hit happened
to be "Our House." I mean, why "Our House"?
In one sense, it's simply
another strong Madness single in a long line of strong Madness singles.
It may not be their best song, but it is probably in the running. Is it
slightly less "British" than their other singles? Did the presence of a
string section make the song seem more "pop"?
On the other hand, "Our House" is arguably the kind of song that Madness had been working toward its whole career. Its sentiment is universal, its sound is stately and sweeping. There's nary a hint of ska to be found. Although it was not their biggest British hit, my guess is that even in the UK, it is probably their most well-known song.
I think
the answer is that, while "Our House" is somewhat odd and kooky by
typical American radio standards, it is less odd and kooky than songs
about baggy trousers and joke shops. In other words, by Madness
standards, "Our House" is relatively normal. It is just the right amount of odd: odd enough to be memorable, but not so odd that it simply bounces right off you.
Likewise,
the video doesn't strike me as being one of Madness' strongest or
poorest; if anything, the clip's goofy tone doesn't really do justice to
the poignant, nostalgic flavor of the lyrics:
Father wears his Sunday best
Mother's tired, she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister's sighing in her sleep
Brother's got a date to keep
He can't hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time, such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how we'd play, simply waste the day away
Then we'd say nothing would come between us, two dreamers
Wait,
so if "way back then" was "such a happy time," then what does that say
about the present? Does the present really stink? And who are the "two
dreamers," and did something eventually come between them? These lines
suggest that "Our House" is actually not a silly song about people's
houses, but an elegy for lost youth and innocence.
You
see, Madness songs are not mindless little ditties; they are
three-minute works of literature. Madness singles are like mini-plays.
Being fully aware of this, I was not surprised to learn about the
existence of a Madness jukebox musical, which is called - surprise - Our
House. Here's an excerpt of the plot summary:
Our House is the story of Joe Casey who, on the night of his
sixteenth birthday, takes Sarah, the girl of his dreams, out on their
first date. In an effort to impress her with bravado, he breaks into a
building site overlooking his home on Casey Street, which is owned by
Mister Pressman, a high-end property developer. The police turn up, at
which point Joe’s life splits into two: the Good Joe, who stays to help,
and Bad Joe, who flees.
Good Joe, having stayed to help Sarah, is sent to a ‘correctional
facility’ for two years. On his release, finding that his past prevents
him from getting a good job, he struggles to make ends meet. Despite
managing to buy himself a second-hand car, he convinces himself that he
is an embarrassment to all who care about him – especially Sarah, whose
new college lifestyle reading law is complicated by Callum, a fellow
student. In an effort to keep up with this guy, Good Joe is beguiled by
his ‘mate’ Reecey into helping stage a break-in for some easy money – is
caught and this time sent down.
I can already see the
choice of numbers: "House of Fun," then "Driving In My Car," followed by
"Embarrassment," then "Shut Up" - why, a Madness musical writes itself!
Somehow or other the plot revolves around Joe's mother trying to keep a
developer from destroying the cherished family ... you guessed it.
I
think there's another reason why Madness are mainly known in the U.S.
for "Our House": it was probably their last truly great single.
Americans caught Madness Fever at precisely the wrong time. Sure, the group stuck around for a few more years, but the spirit faltered. The production grew dated, the
lyrics became more generic - go and listen if you want. In that sense, "Our House" wasn't just an elegy for lost youth, but also for the band's artistic peak. I think if Madness had been able to
follow up "Our House" with, say, "Night Boat To Cairo" or "Cardiac Arrest,"
they might have made a bigger splash over here. But instead, they had to
sit back and let their earlier catalog spread the legacy. For those who bothered to find it.
