Wednesday, 3 December 2014
1982 New Romantics
Chris and I, both seasoned rockers, could not quite believe how we fell for "Dare" the album chock full of single hits from the Human League. But fall we did, whacking it on to the turntable for months on end. Duran Duran and ABC, and later Heaven 17 also captivated us, even though the lyrics in particular often seemed laughable.
But in fact we were not the only ones. "Dare" was one of those rare albums where every track was there on merit; indeed the track Phil Oakey himself thought the weakest, "Don't you want me baby" was the biggest hit of the lot, and was heard adapted as a football chant at The Valley in 2014. Critics have dubbed it one of the most influential rock albums of all time. This track "Seconds" rumbled out of Radio 1 on a dance DJ's morning show a while a go, and stopped me in my tracks all over again
Saturday, 31 May 2014
The Aussie Wave
1983 I returned from Oz - but the music followed me!
Australia had suddenly become fashionable. By now I understood why, even though I had decided it wasn't for me. But as soon as I returned home it seemed as though Australian music had pursued me across the Earth to invade the UK. Some of it was pretty naff - Men at Work, Australian Crawl. But then some class acts appeared. Somewhat unsuspecting I went to see what all the fuss was about around Midnight Oil, at the Venue; there were only about 50 of us there to experience Pete Garrett's extraordinary vocal and visual performance. INXS were a more melodic Aussie rock offering with some great songs spanning the 80s and early 90s.
But my favourite is probably Icehouse; their music seemed to capture the atmosphere of Sydney and the Great Southern Land. "Street Cafe" owes a lot to Bryan Ferry, but it sings to me of the sweet allure of Sydney. A place where somehow everything a British person adores is available, bigger and better than ever you can find in Britain: sunshine, sandy beaches and rollers, big juicy steaks and big juicy strawberries, and long warm evenings in which to enjoy them.
Steve Winwood returns
1982 So cool, like jazz on a summer's day....
Friday, 30 May 2014
81, 82, 83, 84
1982-83 - oh never mind
"I like the singer" said Annie " I like the way he dances". I was slightly jealous of Jim Kerr when she said that, but did not really understand why. Simple Minds burst into my consciousness via The Tube, and followed me to Australia, where they were heavily played on Sydney's excellent JJJ radio station. They were the soundtrack to a new and more colourful life that came with the career change to the advertising agency. They flew high and then seemed to fade, only to emerge again recently, with a glorious Prague concert in a rickety old shed. Jim Kerr is still dancing, Annie, and what about you?
Dire Straits take off
1982 "Telegraph Road "shrinks the world
If I remember rightly, it was Rich (the Grass Snake) who introduced me to Dire Straits - though I wonder if he would admit it today. By the time of the third album I was well hooked on the combination of Mark Knoplfer's guitar work, and his resolutely working class North Eastern vocals.
"Makin' Movies" included "Tunnel of Love" and "Romeo and Juliet" but my favourite from this album is probably "Skateaway", a subtle and sophisticated soundtrack to Christmas 1980.
And then in late 1982 they came out with "Love Over Gold"; just in time to accompany me on my flight to Australia. It's made for an air flight. The opening minute blends in with the atmosphere of a darkened plan cabin. You look out of the window to find a storm raging below, but the 747 flies serenely above it. And by the end of the track you have knocked another 14 minutes off the journey.
After this album Dire Straits became a bit bloated, and came to epitomise MOR (later AOR) rock, but Knopfler's Newcastle influences came again to captivate in his 90's solo albums
Friday, 9 May 2014
1981 Chris Rea
Chris Rea had appeared on my radar a couple of years earlier. "Fool if you think it's over" was all a bit soft and soppy in punk-fuelled 1978, however I was surprised to find him playing on the Old Grey Whistle Test, and even more surprised when he announced, "My name's Chris Rea. I come from Middlebrough". I thought, good for you, standing up for a dump like that.
By 1981 I had fallen upon the record shop in Molesey that offered a rental system. Borrow the album and tape it on cassette. It allowed me to experiment without wasting too much precious money. So I tried Chris Rea's Tennis album; the gravely voice and the occasional licks of slide blues guitar beguiled me and I became a fan, even though it took several years before anyone else I knew saw anything in him.
Chris Rea's own journey has taken many twists and turns, and I'll come back to him much later on. This track is from Water Sign, the 1983 album, and stands out from the usual melancholy Chris Rea style, a gleeful tribute to beautiful girls and the effect they have on us.
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