- Robin Beck: First Time
- Bros: Cat Among the Pigeons / Silent Night
- Chris de Burgh: Missing You
- Pet Shop Boys: Left to My Own Devices
- INXS: Need You Tonight
- Phil Collins: Two Hearts
- Cliff Richard: Mistletoe and Wine
- Michael Jackson: Smooth Criminal
- Salt 'n' Pepa: Twist and Shout
- Bomb the Bass featuring Maureen: Say a Little Prayer
- Deacon Blue: Real Gone Kid
- Rick Astley: Take Me to Your Heart
- Tiffany: Radio Romance
- Hithouse: Jack to the Sound of the Underground
- Brother Beyond: He Ain't No Competition
- Angry Anderson: Suddenly
- Yazz: Stand Up for Your Love Rights
- Humanoid: Stakker Humanoid
- Bananarama: Nathan Jones
- Iron Maiden: The Clairvoyant
- Kylie Minogue: Je ne sais pas pourquoi
- Milli Vanilli: Girl You Know It's True
- Robert Palmer: She Makes My Day
- George Michael: Kissing a Fool
- Gloria Estefan & Miami Sound Machine: 1-2-3
- Mica Paris: Breathe Life Into Me
- Enya: Orinoco Flow
- Barbara Streisand & Don Johnson: Till I Loved You
- Marillion: Freaks [live]
- Traveling Wilburys: Handle with Care
- The Pasadenas: Enchanted Lady
- Samantha Fox: Love House
- The Beach Boys: Kokomo
- Status Quo: Burning Bridges (On and Off and On Again)
- Womack & Womack: Life's Just a Ballgame
- The Bangles: In Your Room
- Petula Clark: Downtown '88
- Bryan Ferry: Let's Stick Together '88
- Tanita Tikaram: Twist in My Sobriety
- D Mob featuring Gary Haisman: We Call It Acieed
~~~~~
It's remarkable what a duff number one will do to a guy. Robin Beck was still at the top and boy did it ever make the pretenders look great, no matter how mediocre they otherwise were. Bros' Double-A Cat Among the Pigeons / Silent Night, one of the odds on favourites for the Christmas no.1, was a welcome change from the bile-spewing angst of some of their earlier hits and Matt Goss is one of those twenty-year-olds who think they have life experience and wisdom and strive for a profundity that is way out of their reach. This may not sound like much of a recommendation for CATP but it manages to work well enough that I might not have complained had it displaced First Time from the top spot - assuming its tenure was as brief as possible. (Though the less said about Silent Night the better, though in fairness no one other than Sinead O'Connor ever managed to pull off a decent version of that grim holiday classic)
Similarly, Chris de Burgh brought up the rear of the Top 3 with a typically smooth and slick piece of MOR that I should have disliked a lot more than I did. Like similar middle class pleasing sorts Billy Joel, Phil Collins and Simply Red, de Burgh is one of those characters in pop music who garners hatred more for what he stands for than the quality of his music - though that having been said, I'm far less likely to defend him against hipster bashing than Joel or Collins. Missing You's only real problem is it's blandness but de Burgh just about manages to pull it off by sounding so unconvincing: the insincerity of his lothario-in-disguise vocal gives it an uneasiness that otherwise isn't there. Either that or I'm reading way too much into it. Yeah, it's probably that.
But it wasn't as if the entire chart was loaded with mediocre tracks that sought to hoodwink me. Finishing just outside the medals is a track that is so outstanding as to render the Cat Among the Pigeons and Missing Yous laughable. We last encountered Pet Shop Boys as their previous single was underperforming - at least by their standards - and beginning to chart a new course towards more mature, reflective pop. Left to My Own Devices is where PSB Phase 2 kicks off and they couldn't have picked a better track with which to make such a statement. While earlier hits hinted at what critic Ian MacDonald called "elegance and alienation" (he was describing the extraordinary disco-funk act Chic but it applies just as easily to the Pet Shops), this is the first time they truly explored the world of the aloof, lonely outsider who aspires to a world of creativity and passion. It is, in effect, the first real Pet Shop Boys song. Padded with an orchestra, their usual synth-pop grooves and a cool video and it simply has everything going for it. That Thursday they would mime it on Top of the Pops to a rapturous ovation and it seemed like everyone was similarly taken in by it. For that week anyway.
I spent the first Saturday of December Christmas shopping with my mum and dad in London. Having experienced the capital in a deserted state only a few days earlier, it was quite the contrast to be suddenly caught up in the hectic rush of shoppers and sightseers. We took the train from Laindon to Fenchurch St Station then walked the block or two to Tower Hill tube. Hawkers slinging chestnuts lined the way and London suddenly felt festive.
We emerged at Embankment and then trudged up to Piccadilly Circus and on to Regent St and Carnaby St. (While for many a Babyboomer Carnaby St evokes Swinging London and Michael Caine and Kinks records and Austin Mini Coopers and groovy hippie chic, for me it will always be about those peculiar Reject China Shops that seemed to take up row after row of precious Westminster real estate) It was here that my parents began their Christmas shopping. I helped them pick out tapes and other bits and pieces for my sister and told them what I would like at the same time, it never once occuring to me that they were purchasing those very same items I wanted. At a football shop they bought a Tottenham Hotspur scarf for my uncle (the words "But Dave supports Ipswich!" proved unable to escape my mouth) and I told them how much I always wanted a calculator wrist watch while looking at timepieces. Did they pull a bait and switch on me? Did Mum distract me while Dad was covertly buying stocking stuffers? Did they contemplate writing something like "To our beloved, naive son, Merry Christmas!" on my card? (Still, I probably never did as well in terms of getting what I asked for so there is that)
Oxford Circus provided a scary experience amid the Christmas hubbub. Having had enough of the area, we crossed at the lights along with a massive throng of people. Approximately halfway across the street we stopped and so too did everyone else around us. We'd already experience insanely crowded London Underground train cars but this was something completely different. My heart began to race and Mum was in panic mode. She grabbed my hand, tears streaming down her face. Some in the crush were yelling and a bobby began directing us ("No one move!" I seem to remember him saying, as if such a thing were possible). Eventually it eased up and we were moving again. Mum continued to hold my hand for the next several blocks. The shock slowly began to wear off and it soon became one of those stories. A few months later, however, an infinitely more terrifying and deadly human crush took place, leaving me feeling lucky that our experience took place in the openness of a city street and lasted just a few seconds. Meanwhile, ninety-six unfortunate souls in Liverpool were about to have their last Christmas.
~~~~~
young Paul's favourite: Take Me to Your Heart
older Paul's retro pick: Left to My Own Devices
Similarly, Chris de Burgh brought up the rear of the Top 3 with a typically smooth and slick piece of MOR that I should have disliked a lot more than I did. Like similar middle class pleasing sorts Billy Joel, Phil Collins and Simply Red, de Burgh is one of those characters in pop music who garners hatred more for what he stands for than the quality of his music - though that having been said, I'm far less likely to defend him against hipster bashing than Joel or Collins. Missing You's only real problem is it's blandness but de Burgh just about manages to pull it off by sounding so unconvincing: the insincerity of his lothario-in-disguise vocal gives it an uneasiness that otherwise isn't there. Either that or I'm reading way too much into it. Yeah, it's probably that.
But it wasn't as if the entire chart was loaded with mediocre tracks that sought to hoodwink me. Finishing just outside the medals is a track that is so outstanding as to render the Cat Among the Pigeons and Missing Yous laughable. We last encountered Pet Shop Boys as their previous single was underperforming - at least by their standards - and beginning to chart a new course towards more mature, reflective pop. Left to My Own Devices is where PSB Phase 2 kicks off and they couldn't have picked a better track with which to make such a statement. While earlier hits hinted at what critic Ian MacDonald called "elegance and alienation" (he was describing the extraordinary disco-funk act Chic but it applies just as easily to the Pet Shops), this is the first time they truly explored the world of the aloof, lonely outsider who aspires to a world of creativity and passion. It is, in effect, the first real Pet Shop Boys song. Padded with an orchestra, their usual synth-pop grooves and a cool video and it simply has everything going for it. That Thursday they would mime it on Top of the Pops to a rapturous ovation and it seemed like everyone was similarly taken in by it. For that week anyway.
I spent the first Saturday of December Christmas shopping with my mum and dad in London. Having experienced the capital in a deserted state only a few days earlier, it was quite the contrast to be suddenly caught up in the hectic rush of shoppers and sightseers. We took the train from Laindon to Fenchurch St Station then walked the block or two to Tower Hill tube. Hawkers slinging chestnuts lined the way and London suddenly felt festive.
We emerged at Embankment and then trudged up to Piccadilly Circus and on to Regent St and Carnaby St. (While for many a Babyboomer Carnaby St evokes Swinging London and Michael Caine and Kinks records and Austin Mini Coopers and groovy hippie chic, for me it will always be about those peculiar Reject China Shops that seemed to take up row after row of precious Westminster real estate) It was here that my parents began their Christmas shopping. I helped them pick out tapes and other bits and pieces for my sister and told them what I would like at the same time, it never once occuring to me that they were purchasing those very same items I wanted. At a football shop they bought a Tottenham Hotspur scarf for my uncle (the words "But Dave supports Ipswich!" proved unable to escape my mouth) and I told them how much I always wanted a calculator wrist watch while looking at timepieces. Did they pull a bait and switch on me? Did Mum distract me while Dad was covertly buying stocking stuffers? Did they contemplate writing something like "To our beloved, naive son, Merry Christmas!" on my card? (Still, I probably never did as well in terms of getting what I asked for so there is that)
Oxford Circus provided a scary experience amid the Christmas hubbub. Having had enough of the area, we crossed at the lights along with a massive throng of people. Approximately halfway across the street we stopped and so too did everyone else around us. We'd already experience insanely crowded London Underground train cars but this was something completely different. My heart began to race and Mum was in panic mode. She grabbed my hand, tears streaming down her face. Some in the crush were yelling and a bobby began directing us ("No one move!" I seem to remember him saying, as if such a thing were possible). Eventually it eased up and we were moving again. Mum continued to hold my hand for the next several blocks. The shock slowly began to wear off and it soon became one of those stories. A few months later, however, an infinitely more terrifying and deadly human crush took place, leaving me feeling lucky that our experience took place in the openness of a city street and lasted just a few seconds. Meanwhile, ninety-six unfortunate souls in Liverpool were about to have their last Christmas.
~~~~~
young Paul's favourite: Take Me to Your Heart
older Paul's retro pick: Left to My Own Devices
