- U2: Desire
- The Hollies: He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother
- Whitney Houston: One Moment in Time
- Womack & Womack: Teardrops
- Phil Collins: Groovy Kind of Love
- Jason Donovan: Nothing Can Divide Us
- Rick Astley: She Wants to Dance with Me
- Bill Withers: Lovely Day [sunshine mix]
- Pet Shop Boys: Domino Dancing
- Inner City: Big Fun
- Bobby McFerrin: Don't Worry Be Happy
- Erasure: A Little Respect
- The Pasadenas: Riding on a Train
- Duran Duran: I Don't Want Your Love
- The Proclaimers: I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)
- Alexander O'Neal: Fake '88
- Wee Papa Girl Rappers: Wee Rule
- Yello: The Race
- Bon Jovi: Bad Medicine
- Gloria Estefan & Miami Sound Machine: Anything for You
- Hazell Dean: Turn It Into Love
- T'Pau: Secret Garden
- Yazz & The Plastic Population: The Only Way Is Up
- Bros: I Quit
- Bananarama: Love, Truth and Honesty
- The Commodores: Easy
- Sinitta: I Don't Believe in Miracles
- Salt 'n' Pepa: Shake Your Thang (It's Your Thing)
- Bomb the Bass: Megablast / Don't Make Me Wait
- Brother Beyond: The Harder I Try
- Jane Wiedlin: Rush Hour
- Kim Wilde: Never Trust a Stranger
- Transvision Vamp: Revolution Baby
- Coldcut featuring Junior Reid: Stop This Crazy Thing
- The Beatmasters featuring P.P. Arnold: Burn It Up
- Spear of Destiny: So in Love with You
- Julian Cope: Charlotte Anne
- Sabrina: All of Me (Boy Oh Boy)
- Marc Almond: Tears Run Rings
- Michael Jackson: Another Part of Me
~~~~~
One of the nice side effects of this blog is that it gives me an excuse to take a look at the charts' nether regions. Obviously the less than coveted spots in the 31 to 40 range are typically a mix of once big hits desperately trying to cling on to a last gasp of relevance, new arrivals destined for an anywhere from massive - Top 5 or Top 10 - to sizable - somewhere around no.27 - hit and those misfit strays that are probably lucky just to crack the Top 40. This week there are two singles of that sort, both from the British indie scene. In at the fourth to last spot is Julian Cope's Charlotte Anne. Erstwhiler of Scouse neo-psychedelic post-punks The Teardrop Explodes, I've always considered Cope to be a spiritual love-child of Arthur Lee and Iggy Pop. Possessing a deep baritone mixed with overly enunciated vocal mannerisms that were big in the indie world of the time (much like Ian McCulloch and Peter Murphy), Cope's unique persona fails to lend much to Charlotte Anne. It's a pleasant enough song but one that feels as if he's treading water.
And then coming in one spot higher is Spear of Destiny. If a great big "Who?" is your response then you're not alone, I was similarly stumped. Beyond simple ignorance, you may also feel baffled by their utterly horrible name. Evoking Arthurian England, the Bible, and Dungeons & Dragons, their quasi-mystical moniker is all-too appropriate in a song like So in Love with You with its goth rock atmospherics, stadium rock leanings and a vocalist who seems to think he's in a heavy metal band. Upon my first listen last week I had it dismissed as just metal nonsense but in fact it seems to borrow the genre's most lamentable tendencies (vocal histrionics, hackneyed imagery) while spurning what can occasionally make it enjoyable (excitement, menace). I'd like to think that So in Love with You just hasn't aged well but something tells me it sounded much the same back in '88.
(The charts' almost brazen randomness is also something to behold: coming up right behing Spear of Destiny and Julian Cope is the buxom Italian pop star Sabrina. Could there be anything more stark than the contrast of a pair of indie darlings next to a silly pop songstress? Notably she didn't qualify for the above discussion as her number All of Me was destined for a longer chart life)
Making the best of things, Chimney Pot was leading us through yet another run out the clock discussion. Our I.P. teacher (who we also happened to have for Geography on Mondays, at least for the time being), Chimney Pot must have been far more frustrated by our classroom's lack of computers than we were. My first term at Mayflower was already a month old and the information was as yet unprocessed: there was still no sign of computers. Another Thursday, another idle fourth period. (Of course it never occured to me that every class was having the same experience; I guess I figured we were special)
And then coming in one spot higher is Spear of Destiny. If a great big "Who?" is your response then you're not alone, I was similarly stumped. Beyond simple ignorance, you may also feel baffled by their utterly horrible name. Evoking Arthurian England, the Bible, and Dungeons & Dragons, their quasi-mystical moniker is all-too appropriate in a song like So in Love with You with its goth rock atmospherics, stadium rock leanings and a vocalist who seems to think he's in a heavy metal band. Upon my first listen last week I had it dismissed as just metal nonsense but in fact it seems to borrow the genre's most lamentable tendencies (vocal histrionics, hackneyed imagery) while spurning what can occasionally make it enjoyable (excitement, menace). I'd like to think that So in Love with You just hasn't aged well but something tells me it sounded much the same back in '88.
(The charts' almost brazen randomness is also something to behold: coming up right behing Spear of Destiny and Julian Cope is the buxom Italian pop star Sabrina. Could there be anything more stark than the contrast of a pair of indie darlings next to a silly pop songstress? Notably she didn't qualify for the above discussion as her number All of Me was destined for a longer chart life)
Making the best of things, Chimney Pot was leading us through yet another run out the clock discussion. Our I.P. teacher (who we also happened to have for Geography on Mondays, at least for the time being), Chimney Pot must have been far more frustrated by our classroom's lack of computers than we were. My first term at Mayflower was already a month old and the information was as yet unprocessed: there was still no sign of computers. Another Thursday, another idle fourth period. (Of course it never occured to me that every class was having the same experience; I guess I figured we were special)
Old Chimney Pot was telling us about the special school-wide walk we'd be doing the next day. Ostensibly to raise money to repair the school bus, we were to walk (or run, if we so desired) around our school grounds as much as possible with each lap helping to raise the necessary funds. There would be no classes and we had permission to spurn our school uniforms for the day. Chimney Pot then mentioned something that happened at the previous year's walk.
"What," I chimed in, "they have to fix the bus every year?" My classmates laughed. For a split second I thought they were chuckling at my stupidity but then one girl complimented me on my wit. What they didn't know was that I wasn't joking - and I still haven't the faintest idea what was so funny about my remark in the first place.
But this anecdote now makes me think that something was amiss. The bus - in reality a mini bus that couldn't have sat more than ten - was something I noticed on a regular basis in its place near the staff parking lot. And I noticed it a lot: it was never not in its customary spot. Still, it failed to dawn on me as to why this neglected, seemingly useless vehicle was reason for classes to be cancelled for a day in order to have a fundraising walk. Meanwhile the the naked, computerless cubicles in our I.P. classroom might have given away that there were real priorities to be dealt with. So, was the walk just a cover for funding educational necessities? Was the Mayflower establishment so embarrassed about budget shortfalls that they conjured up a story about repairing the bus in order to save some face? Or was everyone in on this to begin with and I, a dope to end all dopes, am only just waking up to the reality? Is that what made my remark in I.P. class so funny?
(Sorry if this all sounds like a massive conspiracy theory. Perhaps I've had Ben Johnson on the brain ever since last week's entry; as a matter of fact I just reread Richard Moore's The Dirtiest Race in History, an excellent account of the affair which goes into lots of detail about Johnson's claims that he as sabotaged, including the infamous Mystery Man who allegedly slipped something in his post-race beer. In any event, I quite like the idea of one blog entry influencing the next: perhaps I can keep this going)
But with all due respect to Julian Cope and the Mayflower bus, this week's most significant moment occured at a pub in Oxford. Our day trip to the great university town - though not to everyone - was for my parents' sixteenth anniversary and, while my memories of the Ashmolean Museum have been resigned to, well, the ashes of history, it was marked with our first Sunday roast. While we never did find even halfway decent fish & chips in our travels that year, I have always had a fondness for English food and this is its likely beginning. Bash British cuisine all you want but Sunday roasts, full English breakfasts, iced buns and Yorkie bars were my jam. And they still are.
~~~~~
young Paul's favourite: Domino Dancing
older Paul's retro pick: Burn It Up
But this anecdote now makes me think that something was amiss. The bus - in reality a mini bus that couldn't have sat more than ten - was something I noticed on a regular basis in its place near the staff parking lot. And I noticed it a lot: it was never not in its customary spot. Still, it failed to dawn on me as to why this neglected, seemingly useless vehicle was reason for classes to be cancelled for a day in order to have a fundraising walk. Meanwhile the the naked, computerless cubicles in our I.P. classroom might have given away that there were real priorities to be dealt with. So, was the walk just a cover for funding educational necessities? Was the Mayflower establishment so embarrassed about budget shortfalls that they conjured up a story about repairing the bus in order to save some face? Or was everyone in on this to begin with and I, a dope to end all dopes, am only just waking up to the reality? Is that what made my remark in I.P. class so funny?
(Sorry if this all sounds like a massive conspiracy theory. Perhaps I've had Ben Johnson on the brain ever since last week's entry; as a matter of fact I just reread Richard Moore's The Dirtiest Race in History, an excellent account of the affair which goes into lots of detail about Johnson's claims that he as sabotaged, including the infamous Mystery Man who allegedly slipped something in his post-race beer. In any event, I quite like the idea of one blog entry influencing the next: perhaps I can keep this going)
But with all due respect to Julian Cope and the Mayflower bus, this week's most significant moment occured at a pub in Oxford. Our day trip to the great university town - though not to everyone - was for my parents' sixteenth anniversary and, while my memories of the Ashmolean Museum have been resigned to, well, the ashes of history, it was marked with our first Sunday roast. While we never did find even halfway decent fish & chips in our travels that year, I have always had a fondness for English food and this is its likely beginning. Bash British cuisine all you want but Sunday roasts, full English breakfasts, iced buns and Yorkie bars were my jam. And they still are.
~~~~~
young Paul's favourite: Domino Dancing
older Paul's retro pick: Burn It Up
But Paul, you omitted the most British (other than hotel rooms, does anyone else in the world offer this up as a beverage?) of all "cuisine", you got your first taste of instant coffee(?) (along with copious amounts of sugar and cream it is possible to swallow). Well, I guess maybe their cuisine deserves some bashing.
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