- Gerry Marsden, Paul McCartney, Holly Johnson & The Christians: Ferry Cross the Mersey
- Kylie Minogue: Hand on Your Heart
- Natalie Cole: Miss You Like Crazy
- London Boys: Requiem
- Edelweiss: Bring Me Edelweiss
- Bobby Brown: Every Little Step
- Roxette: The Look
- Neneh Cherry: Manchild
- Queen: I Want It All
- Chaka Khan: I'm Every Woman '89
- The Bangles: Eternal Flame
- Cappella: Helyom Halib (Acid Acid Acid)
- Lynne Hamilton: On the Inside
- Deacon Blue: Fergus Sings the Blues
- Debbie Gibson: Electric Youth
- Stefan Dennis: Don't It Make You Feel Good
- Midnight Oil: Beds Are Burning
- Paul McCartney: My Brave Face
- Donna Summer: I Don't Wanna Get Hurt
- Transvision Vamp: Baby I Don't Care
- Sam Brown: Can I Get a Witness?
- Stevie Nicks: Rooms on Fire
- Hue & Cry: Violently
- Holly Johnson: Americanos
- The Beatmasters with Merlin: Who's in the House?
- Tone Loc: Funky Cold Medina / On Fire
- W.A.S.P.: The Real Me
- Simply Red: If You Don't Know Me by Now
- Shakin' Stevens: Love Attack
- Poison: Your Mama Don't Dance
- Robert Palmer: Change His Ways
- Yazz: Where Has All the Love Gone
- Fuzzbox: Pink Sunshine
- Bon Jovi: I'll Be There for You
- Fields of the Nephilim: Psychonaut
- Cyndi Lauper: I Drove All Night
- The Jacksons: Nothin' (That Compares 2 U)
- Double Trouble & The Rebel MC: Just Keep Rockin'
- Public Image Limited: Disappointed
- ABC: One Better World
~~~~~
I've been down on the charts recently - and with good reason - but I feel distinctly more well-disposed to the listings this week. It feels like a turnover is slowly taking place as the Top 40 begins to right itself. There are still more than enough duff tracks filling space - Lynne Hamilton's On the Inside is an especially rotten culprit - but some of the new entries and climbers have given me sufficient hope. In any event, having just turned forty, I'm just doing whatever I can to stay positive.
Leading the charge is Neneh Cherry's Manchild. The follow-up to her smash Buffalo Stance, it was a mild let down at the time when a lot of people wanted more of the same; a track I quite liked but failed to be bowled over by. It's also a jarring number, its blissed out, proto-trip hop vibes clashing with a burst of furious mid-song rapping. In retrospect, however, Cherry's toasting actually pushes it from good to great and it's a healthy reminder of what an excellent all-round vocalist she was (and probably still is). Far from being a decent follow-up to a classic, Manchild is a huge step forward from Buffalo Stance but one she couldn't manage to better; even the powerful 7 Seconds with Youssou N'Dour wasn't in its league.
Speaking of follow-ups that I was initially a bit disappointed by, Fuzzbox's Pink Sunshine made its chart debut this week. The Birmingham foursome - previously known as We've Got a Fuzzbox and We're Gonna Use It from their punk/indie period - caught my attention with International Rescue, a hook-heavy absurdist romp replete with a terrific video paying homage to Barbarella and The Thunderbirds. Its follow-up doesn't capture the imagination but Pink Sunshine was equally catchy (both have those addictive, ear-wormy choruses that deftly manage to sound great while failing to grate), spirited and packed to the brim with nonsense lyrics. At a time when many stars were going to increasing lengths to revive the sixities, Fuzzbox pulled off their own pseudo-psychedelic hit without sacrificing the demands of current pop. Strange, then, that this was almost the end of their chart ride: I didn't hear from them again until a couple years later when Simon Evans played one of their earlier punk videos on Much Music's City Limits, bitterly dismissing their subsequent work as a commercial sellout. Typical indie purists.
Leading the charge is Neneh Cherry's Manchild. The follow-up to her smash Buffalo Stance, it was a mild let down at the time when a lot of people wanted more of the same; a track I quite liked but failed to be bowled over by. It's also a jarring number, its blissed out, proto-trip hop vibes clashing with a burst of furious mid-song rapping. In retrospect, however, Cherry's toasting actually pushes it from good to great and it's a healthy reminder of what an excellent all-round vocalist she was (and probably still is). Far from being a decent follow-up to a classic, Manchild is a huge step forward from Buffalo Stance but one she couldn't manage to better; even the powerful 7 Seconds with Youssou N'Dour wasn't in its league.
Speaking of follow-ups that I was initially a bit disappointed by, Fuzzbox's Pink Sunshine made its chart debut this week. The Birmingham foursome - previously known as We've Got a Fuzzbox and We're Gonna Use It from their punk/indie period - caught my attention with International Rescue, a hook-heavy absurdist romp replete with a terrific video paying homage to Barbarella and The Thunderbirds. Its follow-up doesn't capture the imagination but Pink Sunshine was equally catchy (both have those addictive, ear-wormy choruses that deftly manage to sound great while failing to grate), spirited and packed to the brim with nonsense lyrics. At a time when many stars were going to increasing lengths to revive the sixities, Fuzzbox pulled off their own pseudo-psychedelic hit without sacrificing the demands of current pop. Strange, then, that this was almost the end of their chart ride: I didn't hear from them again until a couple years later when Simon Evans played one of their earlier punk videos on Much Music's City Limits, bitterly dismissing their subsequent work as a commercial sellout. Typical indie purists.
A lot of memories of this year seem to centre around things I heard about but didn't witness. This could apply as much to where we were as it did to where we weren't. I mentioned several months ago about how my favourite hockey team, the Calgary Flames, were having a fantastically good season and it was about to culminate during this week in May. In this pre-internet/skype world, it could be difficult to follow a sport that that no one else gave a damn about and the news we received about the Flames' progress was scattered. The Independent did carry ice hockey scores on occasion but the many victories that Calgary racked up meant little without league standings to provide perspective.
But we knew they were now in the Stanley Cup Final against Montreal. My friends could only put up with a smattering of hockey talk but, luckily, there just so happened to be another Canadian first year student attending Mayflower with me and he, Owen, got my daily feed of updates/thoughts. As the best four-games-out-of-seven series progressed, long distance phone calls began to increase. The Flames were up three games to two with game six - for us - in the early hours of the 26th and some family friends had promised to call if they were triumphant. Apparently they were and they did, although I wouldn't know myself having slept through the numerous calls from home that we received. I had to settle for finding out the next morning. I was elated and Owen and my non-hockey watching, non-Canadian friends could see it on my face before I'd even said a word.
Mocking sports fandom, Jerry Seinfeld once observed that people will say "We won! We won!" when it should be "no, they won, you watched". In this instance, however, I didn't even watch. I did watch, however, a year later when they got bounced out of the playoffs promptly by a vastly inferior team - and, then, a year later when the same damn thing happened. (And so into Flames fan oblivion) Fast forward to 2004 and I was trying my hand at English teaching in Indonesia just as Calgary was at last making a return trip to the Finals. Just my bloody luck. (Then again, it's only sports. I had always wanted to see Canada win gold in hockey in the Winter Olympics. Then, in 2002, they finally did it and it was the ultimate anticlimax; maybe I was better off when I just dreamed of my team winning)
But we knew they were now in the Stanley Cup Final against Montreal. My friends could only put up with a smattering of hockey talk but, luckily, there just so happened to be another Canadian first year student attending Mayflower with me and he, Owen, got my daily feed of updates/thoughts. As the best four-games-out-of-seven series progressed, long distance phone calls began to increase. The Flames were up three games to two with game six - for us - in the early hours of the 26th and some family friends had promised to call if they were triumphant. Apparently they were and they did, although I wouldn't know myself having slept through the numerous calls from home that we received. I had to settle for finding out the next morning. I was elated and Owen and my non-hockey watching, non-Canadian friends could see it on my face before I'd even said a word.
Mocking sports fandom, Jerry Seinfeld once observed that people will say "We won! We won!" when it should be "no, they won, you watched". In this instance, however, I didn't even watch. I did watch, however, a year later when they got bounced out of the playoffs promptly by a vastly inferior team - and, then, a year later when the same damn thing happened. (And so into Flames fan oblivion) Fast forward to 2004 and I was trying my hand at English teaching in Indonesia just as Calgary was at last making a return trip to the Finals. Just my bloody luck. (Then again, it's only sports. I had always wanted to see Canada win gold in hockey in the Winter Olympics. Then, in 2002, they finally did it and it was the ultimate anticlimax; maybe I was better off when I just dreamed of my team winning)
The day after the Flames snagged their first - and still only - Cup was a Friday which also happened to be the final games of the old English First Division season - and the key match between Arsenal and Liverpool was going to decide who would be champions. This, too, was something I knew about but didn't bother tuning in for. (It didn't even occur to me that it could've acted as a surrogate match to make up for missing the Stanley Cup Finals) Liverpool seemed destined for victory, the Hillsborough tragedy still very much on the minds of the nation, for once rendering the usually despised Reds into a sentimental favourite among many. But the football gods weren't having any of it as Arsenal won in the dying seconds of the game. It's the sort of thing I wish I could recount in vivid detail but I was too busy listening to music to concern myself with football.
It was now time for the third and final half-term break. We took in Scotland back in October and then followed it up with a short jaunt to Dublin in February and now we were off to Paris and Amsterdam for our first trip to the Continent. Saturday was all about getting there. We made our way by train and tube to Victoria Station where it seemed like we waited an awfully long time for our train to Dover. Actually, everything seemed to take a long time: the train from London was slow, the ferry to Calais was slow and our train to Paris for the final leg of the journey was so slow that we were stopped completely for an hour or two. When we finally pulled into Guerre du nord it was late and little of Paris could yet make an impression. We trudged with our suitcases for several blocks and picked up omlettes on baguettes for a late-night bite to eat before bed. Paris would have to wait until morning.
~~~~~
young Paul's favourite: Fergus Sings the Blues
older Paul's retro pick: Manchild
~~~~~
young Paul's favourite: Fergus Sings the Blues
older Paul's retro pick: Manchild
The Arsenal victory was key to the plot of the original film version of "Fever Pitch".
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