With the news that Sleeper will soon return with new music I turned back to a series of “articles” I published in 2018/19. The idea was to list all of the songs that Louise Wener had mentioned in her autobiography “Just for one Day”. Reading those pieces now I am struck by how desperate to please certain people was - making all sorts of snide remarks about certain artists and songs, I’ve left some of those here as evidence of what a tool I was, and others I have amended to better reflect what I really thought.
As I started reading Louise Wener’s “Just For One Day” again I was struck by the number of songs she mentions. Songs from her childhood, songs that reminded her of friends, boyfriends, nearly boyfriends, music that sound tracked first loves, nearly loves, lost loves, singles and albums that were chosen over moon boots, records that inspired her, songs that she covered, songs that helped create her own songs…on and on and on. I was suddenly gripped by a wonderful notion.
Or at least that is what it seemed like when it first gripped me. By the time I had seen the idea to completion it felt…like a moment of madness. I decided to list every song that is mentioned in the book. Every one.
Often people use music as a means of showing other people how interesting they are. No? Just me? Seriously? You’ve never pretended to like a band or song because it was cool and you thought that people would think you were cool if you liked it? Hmmmm. Okay. Let’s try again… Often I use music as a means of showing people how interesting I am. This is because I am a middle-aged man with no real life. My day to day existence is made up of going to work, having tickle wars with my six year old daughter and then going to bed. Music allows me to present a vision of myself that is more in keeping with who I think I am.
In “Just for One Day”, Louise Wener discards traditional rock and roll memoir clichés where the authors describe how the first record they ever owned was “Low” by Bowie and their first gig was the Sex Pistols at the Free Trade Hall (despite their not having been born) with the intent of proving how rock and roll they are. Instead of that Wener does something radical…she is honest. Every song that rocked her boat, every single that thrilled her, every band she was obsessed with in a way that only teenagers can be…well, teenagers and middle-aged men…and the effect is startling. From the songs that she mentions there were many that had played a part in my own life but that I had forgotten, there were others that I had long ago discarded because they were a bit naff and not in keeping with how cool I am (ahem) and there were some that I hadn’t ever listened to.
Put together they paint a picture of the process of growing up and moving on. These songs are her life story…in some ways they are my life story too. Here, then, for absolutely no reason at all, are the songs that paint some sort of picture of the artist as a young woman. You are very welcome.
Ladies Night by Kool and the Gang
My dad had a “Best of…” Kool and the Gang album. Long before I discovered self-pity and introspection, or The Smiths to give them their full title, I soothed the pain of feeling low by “dancing” around my bedroom to “Ladies Night”. That “…sophisticated mama” line made me feel like a ladies man as I growled it in my pre-pubescent falsetto voice.
Brown Girl in the Ring by Boney M
The ultimate wedding reception floor filler.
I Know Him So Well by Barbara Dickson
Ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with? Of course you have. When you are in it, right in the heart of it, things seem perfect. Blinded by the sun of love or lust or the fear of being alone again or…you can’t imagine it will fall apart. Then it does. When that happens it is comforting to have Barbara Dickson on your side. “Perfect situations must go wrong”…bloody right Babs.
Heart of Glass by Blondie
I don’t trust people who don’t like Blondie. I especially distrust those people who do not dash for the dance floor when “Heart of Glass” strikes up. I am fairly sure that such people are not real people at all but are instead hollow husks…no heart, no soul. Watch out for them…they tend to wear Pink Floyd t-shirts and take great delight in telling you how the live version of some tedious bit of indier than thou nonsense is better than the one that made it onto the album…yawn.
Bright Eyes by Art Garfunkel
“Watership Down” is really sad. Only “Bright Eyes” could have done to capture that sadness, there is just something so tender, warm and human about Art Garfunkel’s voice.
Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush
If reincarnation is a real thing then I am either coming back as Victoria Wood or Kate Bush. You can’t make me choose. I’m also not getting into a debate about how I can come back as two people who already exist. Kate Bush is a genuine eccentric of the sort that only England can produce. The voice, the lyrical themes, the movement, the look…she is an icon, inspiring more women in pop than you could name.
Silver Lady by David Soul
My mum used to work as a nurse in burns unit. On Saturday nights when she was working the night shift my dad would let me stay up late to watch “Starsky and Hutch”. Happy days.
Summer Nights by John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John
I have never seen “Grease” or listened to this song all the way through. I think it all seemed a bit too “rocker” for the young Mod who lived inside of me when I was a teenager.
Xanadu by Olivia Newton-John
The film was the final screen appearance of Gene Kelly. It’s not right that is it? Up the Junction by Squeeze
Is it the best single by a British group ever? It is difficult to imagine another serious contender. Difford and Tilbrook capture the romance, heartbreak, hopelessness, dreams, and disasters of young love in just three minutes. This is like “Poor Cow” the musical, or The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole without the laughs. “Alone here in the kitchen, I feel there’s something missing…” is just so beautifully evocative. Oh God, I’m crying.
Wings of a Dove by Madness
Rarely mentioned in the story of Britpop but clear and present in so many of the songs we love and adore from that era. Only The Kinks can really match those early Madness songs in their ability to capture the ordinary lives of ordinary people in ordinary towns and package it all up in three minutes of pop.
A Hard Day’s Night by The Beatles
Popular beat combo from the 1960’s. Teenage girls really liked them.
So Lonely by The Police
Um. Tricky this isn’t it? One has to be able to separate the art from the artist. Or at least try to. Almost impossible with Sting though, innit?
My Perfect Cousin by The Undertones
John Peel adored “Teenage Kicks” by The Undertones and many people see it as their finest moment, arguably one of the finest moments in British pop, but the truth is that “My Perfect Cousin” is a better song…and “A Good Heart” by a solo Sharkey is even better than this. So there.
Enola Gay by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark
It is a little known scientific fact that it isn’t possible to really be friends with someone who doesn’t like UK ’80s electro-pop. OMD, Soft Cell, Depeche Mode, Pet Shop Boys, Human League… people who don’t own records by at least one of those bands are weird. Really weird. And a bit scary. Avoid them.
It’s Different for Girls by Joe Jackson
“It was something that I heard somewhere that struck me as a cliché. The sort of thing that someone might say. And again, I thought, What could that be about? And that maybe the idea was to turn it on its head and have a conversation between a man and a woman and what you’d expect to be the typical roles are reversed. So that was the idea of that.” (Joe Jackson, 2012)
Often overlooked and underappreciated Jackson is a singer/songwriter who really deserves to be thought of alongside Elvis Costello…at least during his peak years. Clever lyrics, memorable riffs and catchy choruses…go check him out.
Coward of the County by Kenny Rogers
It’s not popular or cool but I love me a bit of country. Not so much country with the Western but certainly country. Kenny, Dolly, Willie, Loretta and Johnny. Lovely stuff.
Atomic by Blondie
Pure pop perfection. So is the Sleeper version.
Working my way Back to You by The Spinners
Another group of people whom one should be extremely wary of are those who don’t accept the fact (and fact it is) that the music of Black America is, more than any other, the music that best explains, presents and understands love, lust, passion, rage, injustice, the horrors of existence and the glories of life and that the presentation of those in soul, funk, disco and rap/hip-hop are universal…tearing down the imaginary wall of race and doing all of that, very often, while also making music that lifts the spirits and forces the feet into a close approximation of dance. And breathe.
This classic from The Spinners is a tale of love, lust and betrayal…that is also a floor filler and foot stomper.
Can the Can by Suzi Quatro
Speaking of stomping your feet. Here is the first lady of glam rock Ms. Suzi Quatro with a song that out boogies Bolan’s boogie and makes Slade seem sedate in comparison.
Paper Roses by Marie Osmond
People dismiss the Osmonds as naff and a bit too nice but they made some great records and “Paper Roses” by the only sister Osmond to make her mark on the charts is a lovely song. Also… Mormons. Who are also dismissed as a bit naff and a bit too nice. But they gave us the Osmonds. Who are really good occasionally. So, you know…what can you do?
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John
I’ve never really “got” Elton John. He’s a bit like The Beatles in that respect. I get that people love him. I understand his place in the rock and roll tapestry. I know he has sold more records than there are people in China. I get it. I just don’t get it.
Super Trouper by ABBA
*When I published this article in 2019 I had no real knowledge of ABBA. Now several years later and having spent the past two years working in a school with children with complex special needs and a range of learning and physical disabilities, I understand so much better the wonder of ABBA. The way it puts smiles on the faces of the young people I am with every day is a miracle. A miracle.
Bette Davis Eyes by Kim Carnes
This song features on a compilation album called; “Pure Soft Rock”. That is exactly what this is. Pure. Soft.
Rock. It’s that sort of eighties hair rock that fans of music made by men with dreadful haircuts and earnest lyrics absolutely despise. That might be why I like it so much.
Vienna by Ultravox
I got into a bit of a Twitter spat the other night when I, loudly, proclaimed that “Waterfalls” by TLC was good enough to be number one everywhere forever. Hyperbole apparently. I think it’s a fact. However…I may have been hasty because I’ve just listened to “Vienna” again and it is, arguably, even better than “Waterfalls”.
Stand and Deliver/Ant Rap by Adam and the Ants
I’ve got a real fascination with people who are damaged. I’m damaged. Depression, anxiety, arthritis…and probably a dash of certain other mental and physical health problems. I’m intrigued by what it is that makes people prone to mental health problems…and even more intrigued by those who are so afflicted but who rise above it to produce great art.
You may think that calling what Adam Ant did “great art” is stretching things a bit. Maybe. But he is a damaged man and he has battled demons…so I’m in.
Baggy Trousers by Madness
A better look at the awful reality of the education system for many young people than The Smiths “Headmaster Ritual” but because you can dance to it and the people who made it seem not to be suffering from NPD it rarely gets the respect it deserves and is, often, dismissed as a novelty record. It’s not. It’s great.
Imagine/Give Peace a Chance/Woman is the Nigger of the World/Cold Turkey by John Lennon
I don’t like The Beatles. I really don’t like John Lennon.
Don’t you Want Me?/Darkness/Seconds by The Human League
Phil Oakey deserves to sit at the top table of UK pop writers but because he had a wacky haircut and had hit records he isn’t given the sort of respect he deserves. Take “Don’t You Want Me?” a fantastic piece of pop writing that acts as both documentary and cinematic fantasy at the same time. A better record than anything many of the bands I spent much of my life worshipping could ever even think of creating.
Under Pressure by Queen & David Bowie
Freddie and David. The ridiculous (that’s meant as a compliment) grandeur of Queen and the aching cool of Bowie bundled together in one fantastic moment.
It’s Not Unusual by Tom Jones
One of the greatest male vocalists in British pop history. I think his audience began to define him at a certain point in his career…the knicker throwing ladies who loved Tom more for his pelvic prowess than for his voice. That is, I think, a real shame because he really has made some incredible records and deserves to be thought of alongside the likes of Dusty Springfield and Stevie Marriott when we think about UK soul voices.
I Don’t Know How to Love Him by Sara Bareilles
Andrew Lloyd-Webber. Musical theatre. Religion! This is the unholy trinity for a lot of people. In truth though “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” is a really beautiful song. So there.
Hot Lunch Jam by Irene Cara
Fame! I’m gonna live forever. Could “Fame” have been the inspiration for the classic Oasis single? I say…yes.
Noel sat in a hash filled/fuelled fug in Manchester watching, adoringly, the kids from “Fame” leaping and yelping their way through a series of improbable musical numbers and thinking “Fook me. I want a bit of that.” Maybe not. People of a certain vintage know though that few things are more wonderful than “Fame”. Nothing.
We Will Rock You by Queen
You can say what you want about Queen…be as rude and dismissive as you like. Bring up all the bile and bluster you have within you. It won’t make any difference to the fact, and it is a fact, that their grand, operatic, stadium rocking, pop-rock anthems will have you singing along in the car, or grinning like a loon when the Live Aid appearance shows up on the telly.
As “We Will Rock You” plays in the background I’m stomping my foot and singing/chanting along. It’s a Mystery by Toyah
The lisp. Sure. But the thing people forget about Wilcox is that she was in not just one incredible British film but three of them. Three.
For Britpoppers the most significant is “Quadrophenia” where she played the doe eyed “Monkey”… constantly chasing after Phil “Parklife” Daniels “Jimmy”. But for film lovers she is remembered for the fact that she appeared in two films directed by Derek Jarman; “Jubilee” and “The Tempest”. Also, “It’s a Mystery” is great.
Go Wild in the Country by Bow Wow Wow
Formed from bits of Adam and the Ants under the direction of Malcolm McLaren and with 13 year old Anglo-Burmese Annabella Lwin on vocals, everything about Bow Wow Wow is brilliant. When you listen to Lwin squealing, shrieking and singing on “Go Wild in the Country” you are reminded
that pop, at its best, isn’t about classically trained musicians or vocalists…it’s about desperation, dreams and desire.
Eye of the Tiger by Survivor
Hi. I’m Max. Let’s get to know each other. Do you agree that “Rocky”, and all of its subsequent sequels and spin-off franchises, are the high benchmark of boxing on screen or do you see “Raging Bull” as the very finest example of the art of pugilism in cinema? “Raging Bull” you say? Lovely. Well, maybe I’ll see you around.
You can stop reading now. Have they gone? Good. Pretentious dullards.
Now the rest of us can get on with basking in the warm glow of knowing that we are culturally superior to the people who prefer “Raging Bull” because we judge things on how they make us feel and not on who directed them or if they are shot in black and white. As a side note “Eye of the Tiger” is the best song on any film soundtrack ever.
Golden Brown/Peaches by The Stranglers
Nope. Just nope. I don’t care about Elastica being (ahem) “inspired” by them…Elastica were better. I just don’t do The Stranglers.
I mean just listen to “Peaches”…it is so naff. It’s the sort of thing that you would expect to hear on Nick Knowles next album. “Cor…women’s bottoms. Luvverly.” You always get the feeling that The Stranglers were…poseurs too, it all sounds, and feels, a bit contrived, artificial. So…nope.
Gonna Fly Now by Bill Conti
Come on! I dare you to listen to this and not book yourself a flight to Pennsylvania so that you can run up the steps outside of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Maybe this could happen…
The Look of Love by ABC
Smooth like glass. A look so sharp it could cut through steel. Production so polished it acts as a sonic mirror. I have spent a long time trying to extricate myself from the cult of Morrissey and part of that process has involved revisiting music from around the same time that I dismissed in order to prove that I was more devout in my faith than any other cult members. What has happened during this period has been astonishing and wonderful…
It turns out that, yes, The Smiths were bloody brilliant but that, maybe, other bands were also great and, maybe, even better than they were. ABC certainly fall into that category…their “Lexicon of Love” is a flawless, near peerless, collection of soul/pop wonders.
Town Called Malice/Going Underground/Beat Surrender/ Smithers Jones by The Jam
Ah. Tricky. Let’s start with this; I love The Jam. I still have the copy of “This is the Modern World” that my dad gave me.
They were great. I get it. But…I really do prefer The Style Council. Wait…hold on…put down the pitchforks.
What I mean is that I prefer the collected singles, the hits, of The Style Council to the same by The Jam. “Walls Come Tumbling Down” is better than “Town Called Malice”. “Shout to the Top” is better than “Start”. I could go on…but I can already see the response to this on Twitter.
For many years I was absolutely convinced that Weller was singing “Hanging out their old Lambretta’s on the line to dry” in “Town Called Malice” and I really couldn’t work out what was going on. That song was also the “inspiration” for some of my first attempts at writing lyrics… “Saturday night at Caesar’s Palace, a crowded dance floor filled with malice” Caesar’s Palace was a nite-klub in Kirkcaldy.
It was exactly as awful as you are imagining. I don’t think I ever actually saw any fights there but I thought I was being very clever by invoking the title of The Jam song with the image of people either fighting or dancing while that song played. I know it doesn’t work. I understand that it is rubbish.
I was young. Lots of people of 32 make mistakes like that. I wasn’t really 32. That was a joke.
Of course, it’s not really a joke if you feel like you have to explain it. I should just go back and delete this…but I’ve made this weird decision to not do that, to let thoughts land on the screen as they come to me and then to leave them there for better or worse. I do love “Beat Surrender”… mainly because it sounds a bit like The Style Council. “Smithers-Jones” is just sublime, probably my favourite moment from The Jam and a clear influence on the likes of Damon Albarn, well, specifically on Damon Albarn.
Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran
Shoulder pads. Blitz kids. Supermodels. Superficial.
The wonder of Duran Duran is that they manage to embody so many of the worst aspects of the eighties and yet avoid being anything other than an unstoppable pop machine. Where the stench of naff hangs heavy over so many of their contemporaries the boys from DD are never anything other than immaculate…musically and in their image. Pop perfection.
Wherever I Lay my Hat (That’s my Home) by Paul Young
Hot take - Paul Young’s take on “Love Will Tear Us Apart” is a thing of staggering beauty that puts the original so far in the shade you need night vision goggles to see it. And I am not joking or trying to be “that” guy.
Addicted to Love by Robert Palmer
I am fairly confident that Robert Palmer is viewed with open hostility by certain groups in modern society…his use of “sexy ladies” evidence of the patriarchy and the omnipresence of misogyny and sexism. Those people may, of course, be right in their progressive critique. I’m no expert. In anything. I am viewing this solely through the eyes of the teenage me.
My lived experience. I thought Palmer, and particularly, this song/video were the epitome of style, sex and glamour. I would like to apologise. I didn’t know any better.
Moving on…
Three Times a Lady by The Commodores
Lionel Richie in Commodores mode. A beautiful, last dance of a song.
Space Oddity/Life on Mars/ Ashes to Ashes/Starman/Heroes/ Modern Love/Changes by David Bowie
I never got the hype about Bowie. STOP. I’m joking. I couldn’t carry on with that even at my most mischievous.
Bowie is the single most important character in British pop music history. Oh yes he is. Yes, even more so than…them. Collectively or individually. From Mod roots, through glam, soul boy and everything else he was the arch re-inventor, the ultimate style icon, a chameleon, a magpie, a star.
His influence stretches beyond pop music and into fashion, film and art. At his worst he was better than almost everyone else at their best. It’s that simple.
Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep by Middle of the Road
Um. Let me preface this by acknowledging that I have never had a hit record. I’ve never even had a record deal. Which, when you consider that Middle of the Road did is, frankly, insulting.
Anyway. I acknowledge the success and the talent of everyone involved in this record. This awful, abomination of a record. A song that he who walks backwards is fearful of.
A song so dreadful that it, literally, fills the hearts of the happiest of souls with dread. Utter rubbish. Love me Do by The Beatles
I like the harmonica at the start.
Thunder Road/Born to Run/The River by Bruce Springsteen
I haven’t ever listened to a Bruce Springsteen song all the way through. I don’t mean an entire album, I mean a single song. Not one. Not even “Born in the USA”.
Lots of people with infinitely more talent than me (not difficult I’ll grant you) and who actually know something about songwriting have a real thing for “The Boss”…so there must be something behind all the fuss. I just don’t hear it. Hold on. I’m going to listen to all three of these all the way through.
OK…”Thunder Road” is so American that it might actually be America. It’s more American than when Starsailor started singing about “freeways” despite their living in a country with motorways and dual carriageways. It’s more American than a room full of Americans on the fourth of July singing “Thunder Road” and eating pumpkin pie…which I know they don’t eat on the fourth of July but you get the general idea right? I’m watching the video for “Born to Run” now.
Bruce Springsteen has no sleeves on his shirt. He looks like he has been carved out of a mighty oak tree…he’s so rugged. I like this. It’s also very American but in a much more relatable way.
Maybe Starsailor listened to this before the whole “freeway” thing? “The River” tells a story about a boy and a girl called Mary…which is strange because “Thunder Road” had a girl called Mary in it too. Is Springsteen married to a girl called Mary? Does he have a thing for Mary’s?
That is a very specific fetish right there. I’m not feeling this. It’s all very…earnest.
Shaddap You Face by Joe Dolce
The eighties were great. Don’t let anyone tell you anything different. In the eighties something this miserable could be a global hit single… You might think this is a bad thing but, if like me you are a talentless nobody, this song gives hope that one day you might also have a global smash hit record.
God bless you Joe.
Blowin’ in the Wind by Bob Dylan
I was given tickets to go and see Dylan once. I didn’t know too much about him before I went. I mean, I knew this song and the one about being a rolling stone but I wasn’t one of those slightly sinister Dylan obsessives. The thing I liked about the Dylan songs I knew was the fact that he couldn’t sing. I couldn’t sing either and that made me think that if I could just become a lyrical genius then, like Joe Dolce, I could become a legend.
I’m not comparing Dylan to Dolce. Breathe. Anyway, I went to see Dylan and I lasted less than twenty-five minutes before I left. It was awful. His voice, which in those early days may well have been weak at least had character, was nothing more than a guttural growl. It made me feel queasy. Also there was a very drunk Glaswegian man in front of me who kept shouting out “Bobby Fuckin’ Dylan…yir a GOD.” Not once. Over and over again. Nobody else seemed to mind. It might be a part of the Dylan experience. Maybe he travels with the band. I just found it irritating.
This is all a bit sad because now I really love Dylan but nothing, and I mean nothing, would entice me to go and see him in concert again.
Games Without Frontiers/Biko by Peter Gabriel
Once of Genesis and then a fairly big deal on his own terms in the eighties Peter Gabriel is… I can’t do it. Other than “Sledgehammer” I can’t think of a single reason to be interested in Peter Gabriel.
Woman in Love by Barbra Streisand
This is more like it. Barbra Streisand. Proper. That voice.
That face. A sadness in even the happiest moments. An ability to draw tears from the driest of eyes, to touch the hardest of hearts, to remind you that there are beautiful things in the ugliest of moments. “With you eternally mine, in love there is…no measure of time.”
Boom. All you need right there in one moment. You don’t get it? There is no hope for you. Uptown Girl by Billy Joel
I prefer the Westlife version. Wait. Come back. I didn’t mean it.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s be serious for a moment. Joel is one of the greats of American popular music…a songwriter who can stand toe to toe with the likes of Springsteen and Dylan…but not Patti, nobody matches Patti.
I’m digressing. Right. Despite the horror of what Westlife did to this, and everything else they touched, “Uptown Girl” is one of those magical little moments of pop music that lifts you from the depths and thrusts you towards the heavens. The video is so good it borders on being some sort of crime.
Hello by Lionel Richie
Speaking of videos! I love me a bit of Lionel. Truthfully I love me a lot of Lionel. I like most Lionels.
Messi. Blair. Um. It’s all about the video here though isn’t it?
Maybe if it had been a weightier song about something more serious than silly old love then it would have had a more dignified video. You can’t blame Lionel. Not really. You’ve never seen it?
Oh, please.
The Power of Love by Frankie Goes to Hollywood
THE best single of the eighties. Bar none. THE best. Arguably it is the greatest single of all time.
Arguably Frankie were the greatest British band of the eighties…maybe ever. They were dangerous, era defining and politically vital in a way that few other bands could match. Holly Johnson is also about as close to the perfect front man as pop music has ever seen.
When Doves Cry by Prince
Bollocks. I shouldn’t have wasted all that hyperbole on Frankie a second ago. Um. Right, here is what we will do. We will pretend that you didn’t see the stuff I just wrote about Frankie…like, imagine you’ve been visited by the geezers from “Men in Black” and had your memory erased.
Hmmm? Couldn’t I just delete it? Nope. Sorry.
No can do. Er. OK here we go. This is THE best single of the eighties by an American artist (apart from all the other Prince singles) and it is arguably the greatest single ever (apart from all the other Prince singles of the eighties).
Phew.
Sign of the Times by The Belle Stars
You want me to write something about this? Girl power. Seven women in a band, writing, performing, playing. How could you not love that? The eighties were bloody magnificent.
Don’t listen to those tired voices who tell you it was rubbish…it was bloody ace. Apart from the unemployment. And the miners strike. And the cold war.
Oh shut up.
Automatic by The Pointer Sisters
The Sisters’ performance of this on Soul Train is glorious. Told you the eighties were bloody fantastic. Apart from the threat of nuclear war. And the riots.
And the sus laws. But look at the clothes!
Last Christmas by Wham!
Have I done the thing about a song being the bestest song ever yet? I have? Twice? TWICE? In one article? Oooops. Hold on. Ha!
This is the best Christmas song ever. Alright, let’s forget the overblown nonsense. It is a terrible tragedy that we have lost George. He was, undoubtedly, one of the greatest male vocalists in British pop history. Damn it, I’m doing it again. I need to find something to write about that I don’t love.
Get a bit mean. Show you my ugly side. I do miss him though.
Your Love is King by Sade
Eeeeewwww. Yuk. Bloody Sade. Coffee table music or what?
BORING. I HATE this. I can’t do it. I’m sorry.
I love Sade. She is just so cool. Effortlessly cool. I had such a huge crush on her.
The all black outfits, the ruby red lipstick, the hair…more importantly, the voice. I just couldn’t imagine that there could be a woman more perfect anywhere. I’m terribly sorry if that sounds like I’m reducing her to just an object of my adolescent desire but that’s what I was…an adolescent boy, I wasn’t making informed judgements. I was reacting, responding and rushing in. Anyway.
That’s all behind me now and…I still love her. Her music is just so (and I may have mentioned this already) cool.
Girls Just Want to Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper
Much like “Come on Eileen” by Dexys Midnight Runners, “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” is a song that is, all too quickly, dismissed as a bit of pop fluff…a wedding reception floor filler. The truth is that this is a song that matters. A feminist anthem…by feminist I mean the sort who are interested in the battle for equality of opportunity for women and not the slightly peculiar T.E.R.F’s and Intersectional Feminists who seem to have hijacked the debate over women’s rights to such an extent that women’s rights could well be attacked and, possibly, erased.
Deep stuff. Or not. What do I know about it? Not a lot.
Let’s move on. Lauper rejects the idea that a beautiful girl should be hidden away, insisting on her place in the sun. Boom. A punch in the face for the notion that women can belong to men.
Not Lauper. Not her girls. It’s difficult to get past the hen night hordes howling the chorus at the moon as they stagger back to the Jury’s Inn on any weekend night in any major city but, honestly, this is a song that is really saying something quite important.
Holiday by Madonna
It must be very difficult for young people now to understand how important Madonna was. The biggest and bestest pop star the world had ever seen. A run of hit singles that made Berry Gordy turn green with envy. An inspiration to more performers than you could name.
A provocateur. I can’t write about her. She defies description…certainly from someone like me. Perfect Skin by Lloyd Cole and the Commotions
That opening line about cheekbones and eyes. Do we need to say anything else? Do we need to say anything else? Fine. The thing about that line is that it is just one example of the lyrical brilliance that Cole brought to every song he wrote between 1984 and 1987 across three of the best albums of the eighties…”Rattlesnakes”, “Easy Pieces” and “Mainstream”.
Witty. Erudite. Sharp. Great hair.
Walls Come Tumbling Down by The Style Council
I’ve made my thoughts on this matter quite clear. I know you all disagree. I know that it makes those blokes in their fifties with the Weller haircut very angry. I understand that people get cross about it.
I don’t mean to upset people. The Style Council are better than The Jam. Stop. Breathe.
I get it. You didn’t like the vaguely homo-erotic under/overtones of that video. You don’t like the fact that there are not as many guitar bits. You don’t like the fact that Weller isn’t wearing a Mod suit.
I’m with you…these things can be difficult to deal with. Doesn’t change the fact that “Walls Come Tumbling Down” is ace. Also, Weller has NEVER looked better than he does in the video. See you all on Twitter.
Spirit in the Sky by Doctor and the Medics
Love it. “But Max” cries nobody “We thought you didn’t like comedy records.” To which I cry… FOOLS! “Spirit in the Sky” is no comedy song.
It is a glam rock romp. A decade after glam rock stopped being a thing. It’s easy to see why people dismiss it as a comedy record…the name of the band, the image but, honestly, just listen to it. A gospel song written by a Jewish bloke called Norman…what more do you want? I love it.
Boys Don’t Cry/Inbetween Days by The Cure
If you don’t understand why The Cure are your favourite band (apart from The Smiths) then I don’t know what to say to you.
Once in a Lifetime by Talking Heads
Pop. Punk. Performance. Art.
Talking Heads are one of the most creative and influential bands to have come out of the seventies American punk/post-punk scene. You should be wary of people who don’t take to the dancefloor when this starts.
Summertime by Louis Armstrong
Sometimes you just need to listen to something that reminds you of how beautiful the world can be. At those moments this will do just fine.
Cry me a River by Ella Fitzgerald
The first lady of song. A woman who endured what can be described as a tumultuous childhood and then found that she had a gift…a voice that could bring Heaven to earth, joy to those in despair and paint pictures so beautiful with it that you could be left breathless.
Anchors Away by Mike Mills
I have no idea where in the pages of “Just for One Day” this is referenced, but it must have been. Now I have to think of something to say about this… Um. Right.
I like pirates? Actually, that isn’t true. I don’t like pirates. I think Johnny Depp ruined pirates for me with those awful films. I’m not even sure I enjoyed pirates before those films but I really hate them now. That’s right. I hate pirates.
I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me) by Whitney Houston
Whitney Houston. I love her. The tragedy. The drama.
The musical heritage. The songs. The voice. Admittedly her version of “I Will Always Love You” isn’t as good as Dolly’s and, yes, it gave birth to a whole generation of X-Factor contestants who think singing five or fifteen notes all at the same time is better than just picking one but I still love her.
I was fourteen when “I Wanna Dance…” was released which means that at least once a month for about two years I would have danced with nobody to it in the cultural hall of the Mormon Church on Bingham Terrace in Dundee. I say “danced” but we all know there wasn’t any dancing. It would have been at one of these dances, quite possibly after this song that I ended up having my first kiss…that’s right folks, I kissed a girl.
I kissed a girl and I liked it. I’m like a short, pudgy, Scottish, Katy Perry. But less annoying. Or more annoying.
The real joy of “I Wanna Dance…” lies in that moment at the very beginning when, after teasing us with an “Uhhhh” and a “Yeah”, Whitney delivers a joyous “WHOOOO” and the whole thing starts…an uplifting pop song of the sort that only the darkest of hearts couldn’t find joy in.
Pretty in Pink by Psychedelic Furs
Dear Ms. Ringwald, I have been an admirer of your work for many years now. Your performances in so many iconic eighties films define my own experience of growing up at that time. Oh, I can’t do it.
I love you. I love you. I love you. Yes I’m married and I’m sure you probably are too but I just know that we could be very happy together so please, please, please will you marry me?
Best Wishes, Max.
Sorry. I think “Pretty in Pink” may have been the first “indie” song I ever heard.
I was sitting in the living room of my first girlfriend’s home, a gaggle of other teenagers sprawled across the floor and squeezed onto the sofas. Somebody had brought along a copy of “Pretty in Pink” on VHS for us to watch. We felt very grown up because for most of us it was the first AA (ask your grandparents) film any of us had seen. The first thing that happened was that I fell head over heels in love with Molly Ringwald (PLEASE MOLLY!) and the second thing that happened was that I bought the soundtrack to the film on tape on my way home from school the following Monday.
I didn’t pay any attention to The Smiths or New Order or Echo and the Bunnymen, I used to just rewind “Pretty in Pink” over and over again. I genuinely don’t think I ever listened to anything else on that tape.
Crash by The Primitives
Fate. Timing. Destiny. Whatever.
The Primitives should have been huge. They had a great look, a charismatic front-woman, a tunesmith to rival almost any other…but they “crash” landed at the tail end of the C86 era and were never going to make a splash when baggy arrived, they were too tight, too sharp and too much for that scene. Then grunge hit and their chance was gone. The sort of lyrics and melodies they were dealing in would have seen them sit quite comfortably alongside any of the Britpop bands…curse the passing of time.
“Crash” is an indie disco floor filler, the sort of song that is instantly recognisable even if you don’t know what it is…or even if you haven’t ever heard it before!
Manchild by Neneh Cherry
I wrote a piece on Neneh Cherry earlier this year where I described my discovery of her while on a summer holiday in Utah at the same time as “Raw Like Sushi” was released. It remains one of my favourite albums of all time…and one of the best albums of all time. Trip-hop beats before trip-hop was a thing. Silky smooth vocals. Soul.
Rap. R ‘n’ B. “Manchild” has it all.
Luka by Suzanne Vega
My girlfriend was studying art, not at St Martins College but in Dundee. Eh. I would travel there from my own university town of Paisley most Fridays, unless we were meeting in Edinburgh for a trip to The Egg…often the weekend would involve both things, Friday night in Dundee and then the bus to Edinburgh on Saturday. I saw an Oasis tribute band in the student union there once.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. When they finished “their” set they walked off stage and “Liam” was mobbed, literally mobbed, by a horde of very attractive art student girls…including my girlfriend. It was a turbulent relationship. So many good times.
But sour notes that have left a lasting mark…on both of us. After one argument or another I was left at home in her flat while she headed off, quite rightly, to have a good time rather than spend time with an arsehole. I spent the night listening to her records. When I stumbled across “Luka” I was left in pieces by the time it ended.
Pieces. Real tears. Awful questions about who I was and what I was. It wasn’t that the lyrics were an accurate description of our post-adolescent tiffs…neither one of us was abusive…but it was her voice.
Pure and honest, simple…but devastatingly maudlin too. I haven’t listened to it in a long time. It frightens me a bit. Will it still make me feel the same way?
I don’t want to know.
Take the A Train by Duke Ellington
The thing that has been most fun about these articles has been listening to things I haven’t heard… before or for a long time. This is something I had never heard before. It’s a riot. Swing?
Jazz? I dunno. It’s good though…even if it is jazz.
*I’m insufferable now…but I was worse when I wrote this*
Girls and Boys/This is a Low/Parklife/End of a Century/To the End/Beetlebum by Blur
The first time I saw Sleeper in concert was on the Parklife tour. I’ve told the story so many times… blagged my way backstage thanks to a chance encounter with Paul Tunkin of Blow Up! Sitting on a collapsible table with me on one side, Damon in the middle, and my mate Chris on the other side talking about the marketing strategy for “To the End” which was about to be released. Boring. Meanwhile over in another corner of the room I could see Louise Wener surrounded by a gaggle of Wenerite girls…I had made a terrible mistake.
Fake Plastic Trees by Radiohead
A lot of people really love Radiohead. Usually boys of a certain type. Earnest. Scraggy beard.
Clothes that are almost, but not quite, cool. You know in Alan Partridge whenever he tries to join in with something fun but always ends up making it less fun? That is the very essence of the Radiohead fan. Arguably it is the very essence of Radiohead.
I saw them support Blur before Britpop was a thing and when Thom Yorke had a hairstyle that made even the most strident atheist reconsider…after all if the Devil exists then God must also exist and that haircut was the work of Satan himself. See. I am sure that “Fake Plastic Trees” is very clever and that the watering can, the polystyrene man and the fake plastic earth are all metaphors for the suffering of mankind or something but, honestly, it is all delivered with such a roar of indifference that I don’t know why anyone cares.
I know I don’t.
Superstition/Living for the City/Uptight/He’s Misstra Know it-all/Happy Birthday/Ebony and Ivory by Stevie Wonder
Stevie Wonder was a boy when he began making music in a country where people of his race could not drink from the same water fountains as white people. Listen to the passion in his voice and feel the joy and fire. Stevie Wonder is one of a handful of artists who goes beyond genres, who transcends labels, who defies definition…the only constant in his career has been that joy and passion.
Soul. Funk. Pop. R ‘n’ B.
An influence on singers, songwriters, musicians and artists across the worlds of pop, rock, soul, blues and hip-hop. Wonder is a totemic figure. A hero. A voice raised against violence, discrimination and hate.
A voice raised in praise of peace, harmony and love. A voice to bring people together. A voice to lift your spirits. The voice?
Make no mistake he is worthy of consideration as the greatest. Hell, he even managed to make watching James Corden tolerable when he appeared on Carpool Karaoke.
Glass Onion/Piggies/Blackbird by The Beatles
I think Travis were called Glass Onion before they were called Travis. Hold on, I’ll go check. Yeah. I was right.
I love Travis. I saw them in concert at the end of last year and it was magnificent.
I know - lots of people love The Beatles, but what do you want me to do? Pretend? I guess I could…I mean I once wrote an article about Ocean Colour Scene where I pretended that there were things I enjoyed about them. If I can do that I can do anything.
Losing my Religion by REM
When I went to America in 1989 I discovered Neneh Cherry. I bought “Raw Like Sushi” on cassette and I still play it today…thirty years later. I bought another album on that trip. “Green” by R.E.M.
I don’t know why. I didn’t know who they were before I went on that trip. Maybe I heard something on the radio as we drove around the desert of Utah. Whatever.
That one album started a love affair. With the band for sure but, more specifically, with Michael Stipe. He was intelligent, creative, crafty, eccentric, quiet, angry, passionate…all of the things I wished (wish) that I was. When I got home I went straight to Sleeves on Kirkcaldy High Street and bought “Document” and “Fables of the Reconstruction” on tape.
Before too long I was listening to R.E.M to the exclusion of almost everything else. When they stopped making music a bit of me died. I cried. I hadn’t ever managed to see them play live and now I never would.
Even now, so many years later, that still hurts.
What do I do Now? by Elvis Costello (cover)
If Elvis Costello said my name out loud I would weep. Weep. Arguably the greatest songwriter in English popular music and, much like Kevin Rowland, never really afforded the respect he deserves. Quite how Louise and the other Sleepers felt when they heard this I cannot begin to imagine.
You’ve written a song, you feel pretty good about it…then Elvis Costello covers it and you realise that you, yes you, have made it onto the radar of a bona fide genius and he is singing your song. At about two minutes twenty when he sings “Oh I miss you…” you can actually feel your heart break into a thousand pieces and then put itself back together again. Beautiful.
Angels by Robbie Williams
When I first wrote this article in 2019 I wrote the sort of snide commentary on this song that you are meant to write if you are a “real” music fan. I’ve deleted it here because it was a horrible reminder of how desperate I was, at times, then to play to a crowd that I actually didn’t care about instead of being honest.
“Angels” is brilliant. Robbie is brilliant. And you can suck it if you disagree. That feels better.
True by Spandau Ballet
If aliens land on earth (like they haven’t already, right guys?) and request one song to explain the human race’s obsession with this thing called “pop”, I reckon “True” might be as good a choice as anything else. The breathy “ha ha ha ha ha”, the blue eyed soul, the fact that two of them ended up playing Ronnie and Reggie Kray with Billie Whitelaw as their mum…what else do you want?
I Don’t Like Mondays by The Boomtown Rats
This is tricky. How best to put this. Let’s see. Right.
Got it. Awful. Just awful.
The Tide is High by Blondie
New York pop-reggae. Who would have thought something so gloriously, maybe dementedly, strange and utterly perfect would crawl out of the seedy environs of the CBGB’s punk scene? Nobody. That’s who.
There are very obvious parallel lines between Blondie and Sleeper of course…dizzy pop tunes, female singer, attitude by the bucket load. And “Atomic”. Of course.
Poker Face by Lady Gaga
Before I get into this let me save some of you a bit of time and give you a handy “copy ‘n’ paste” reaction for use on Twitter; “Lady GaGa! FFS! She’s awful. Utter rubbish. Music for tweenagers. Give me (insert group of white men with Paul Weller approved haircuts and wardrobes here) any day over this” Help yourself. Now for those of you who have a soul…
She’s brilliant right? Weird. Affected. Affecting.
Cool. Talented. Creative. Shocking.
Inspiring. The sort of pop star the world needed but didn’t have…so she created herself and took over the world. In an era of streaming and Twitter where there are no mysteries left and where trying to create something that people care about is increasingly difficult and where building anything even remotely resembling a career in the arts is almost impossible, GaGa burned bright like a diamond for a short while and then she stepped back, moved on and decided to become something else.
We need to cherish people like GaGa. They are few and far between.
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