Month: December 2009

[1] Cameo, ‘Word Up’

But not even Prince ever sported a massive pink codpiece.

Actually, don’t quote me on that. Was it Larry Blackmon’s codpiece that made this such a huge, surprise hit? Or was it the hulking beat, the Spaghetti Western whistles, the ludicrous accent, the instant-hip phrases, the juggernaut power of The Funk, the fiery brass-boosted final chorus or the wig-out to the sunset?

All these things plus its immediacy. As Larry suggests, “Wave your hands in the air like you don’t care,” Junior shrugs. Like she doesn’t care, you see. Metatext. After that she gives it some windmilling, then her little sister jumps on her and makes clip-clop noises…

Right, time to stop. Time to stop 1986. Time to go all 2009. That Top 20 starts on Monday, and the Noughties Top 20 starts as soon as we finish that. Around April then.

Yo pretty ladies:

[2] Prince & The Revolution, ‘Kiss’

“Kiss?” said Junior. “Like kissing? Like this?”

She went to kiss her own school portrait before me, but no surprise there – her bloodline breeds narcissists. Anyway, then there was some preposterous dancing. That’s hereditary too.

I think we’ve talked about ‘Kiss’ here before, about how the Purple Priapus could be impish and cheeky while being filthy as hell; how the arrangement could echo with space while being full to bursting with funky flourishes, impossible groove and eternal sunshine; how Tom Jones is an orange car alarm. ‘Kiss’ just sounds so easy.

Act your age, not your shoe size:

[3] Kate Bush, ‘Hounds Of Love’

This one looks familiar. There was still life in the album of the same name; bags of it, in fact, because this single teems with it – the vital surge that is love when it overcomes. You know what I mean. Kate resists at first but then rolls with it, and the effect is glorious. A decadent rush.

Junior said, “It’s funny, isn’t it?”

It’s in the trees! It’s coming!

[4] Peter Gabriel & Kate Bush, ‘Don’t Give Up’

Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush

I think we can all surmise Peter Gabriel has fantastic personal hygiene if someone as fragrant, pure and delectable as Kate Bush is prepared to spend five minutes (at LEAST – who knows how many takes there were? Perhaps Pete kept getting his lip synchs wrong on purpose) rammed into his armpit. Either that, or she’s more heroic than we ever dreamed.

The song’s beautiful, believable and stark, Pete and Kate playing their parts with poignancy and soul. Strikes a chord with Junior too, who is matching Kate word for word long before the end.

You’re not beaten yet:

[5] A-ha, ‘I’ve Been Losing You’

“Who’s this?”
“A-ha.”
“What’s the song called?”
“I’ve Been Losing You.”
“Then is it, ‘A-ha! I’ve found you!’?”

It should have been. In the A-ha singles chronology the next output was actually ‘Cry Wolf’, which is rubbish. For the first single off a new album (the still awesome Scoundrel Days), people didn’t like ‘I’ve Been Losing You’ either and it’s easy to see why – it doesn’t have the hooks of ‘The Sun Always Shines On T.V.’ or ‘Take On Me’, nor the charm. But it’s tougher, slinkier and in possession of an outrageous false ending. After the eventual fade, Junior kept asking if it had finished, not wishing to be caught out again.

Hissing your esses:

[6] Peter Gabriel, ‘Sledgehammer’

Of all the unlikely massive pop stars in 1986, Peter Gabriel was, erm, one. It helped that he was a clever lad, in tune with the zeitgeist (man), and understood how to harness the shiny pristine power of video. Sure, it wasn’t all that new, but consider the effect the ‘Sledgehammer’ film had on the populace. It was like being hit by a heavy object on a stick.

And no harm was done by the tune, a filthy, brassy, funky, resolutely 80s AOR stormer that had wit, pizzazz and whacking great horns that hit you like a large metal slab fixed to a wooden handle.

Junior expresses admiration for “the singing and the drums”, but that’s a bit of a kiss-off. Later I show her its still-diverting video – which she loves, particularly the literal representations of lyrics about steam trains and aeroplanes. Good for the kids, those touches, what with them being subtle as a weighty tool for swinging when you want to spread distribution of force.

You could be a bumper car, bumping:

[7] Public Image Limited, ‘Rise’

“He could be yellow!” Junior said. “Or purple or red or pink! Or blue!”

Not much to add about John Lydon’s strange foray into drivetime rock, except that it somehow works.

Or cerise: