Category Archives: Trevor Horn

Trevor Horn: Echoes – Ancient & Modern

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Over the next few weeks movingtheriver will look at new albums by two giants of 1980s music – Trevor Horn and Peter Gabriel (despite the fact that both arguably stopped being crucial pop forces around 1993 or 1994 – but then pop also probably stopped being crucial around then too, sometime between the first Suede album and the first ‘farewell’ Faith No More LP…)

First up, Uncle Trevor. The superstar producer and one of the architects of 1980s music revisits some of that decade’s key songs with guest vocalists on Echoes. But alarm bells have been ringing in recent interviews where he has mentioned that it’s these songs’ lyrical content that most interests him.

And, sure enough, coming from a man who was responsible for some of the best grooves of the 80s and most provocative musical pranks, Echoes is desperate not to offend and a big disappointment. Fair enough, the guy is 74 years old, and who knows that sort of record company pressure has come from his new paymasters Deutsche Grammophon who aren’t exactly known for their ‘challenging’ pop albums.

Seal is a brilliant interpreter of the modern pop song and initially his version of Joe Jackson’s ‘Steppin’ Out’ works a treat. But the reformatted chords and bossa-nova feel are seriously skew-whiff, despite a nice (uncredited) trumpet solo. Horn’s collaboration with Michael Buble surely can’t be far off.

‘Slave To The Rhythm’ is reinvented as a piano ballad (again, after Horn/Rumer’s weird 2019 effort), with a few strange new chords and an almost comically stiff groove, and the song just can’t stand the strain despite a committed vocal from Lady Blackbird.

Marc Almond is in good voice but his ‘Love Is A Battlefield’ foregrounds a horrid little Euro-disco groove. Meanwhile Iggy makes ‘Personal Jesus’ halfway passable despite an incredibly polite blues setting. It could have worked with the right band.

Steve Hogarth’s ‘Drive’ could have worked (and if only Horn had produced Marillion circa 1993) but it misses the whole point of The Cars’ original – the dichotomy between the dark lyrics and bittersweet harmony/melody, with liberal use of major-7th chords. Why not a classic soaring Horn swoon-fest along the lines of Seal’s ‘Crazy’?

The key of ‘Owner Of A Lonely Heart’ has been changed to accommodate Rick Astley’s smooth mid-range vocals and he does a passable job but, again, the groove and arrangement are simplistic and not a little irritating.

Toyah is let loose on ‘Relax’ – again, it could and should have worked. But Horn inexplicably reimagines the song as a slow, painstakingly robotic groove with a toe-curlingly reverent recitation of the lyrics. Is it supposed to be funny?

Elsewhere there are versions of ‘White Wedding’, ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ and Kendrick Lamar’s ‘Swimming Pools’ which barely register. Horn’s own vocal on ‘Avalon’ is absolutely fine though, despite the on-the-nose arrangement.

So it’s sad to report that Echoes is rather joyless pop. Most of it might suffice as the soundtrack for ‘Broadchurch’ or a Christmas TV ad but generally it just made me yearn for the originals. One is also desperate for a vocalist with a bit more edge – a shame Holly Johnson, Claudia Brucken or even Glenn Gregory couldn’t be persuaded to do a twirl.

Book Review: Adventures In Modern Recording by Trevor Horn

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It was surely only a matter of time before arguably the most important producer of the last 50 years put pen to paper, but Trevor Horn’s memoir ‘Adventures In Modern Recording’ was still one of the nicest surprises of 2022.

The opening section outlines his upbringing in the tough, industrial North East of England, and then each chapter is centred around one key track that made his name as a producer, from The Buggles’ ‘Video Killed The Radio Star’ to Seal’s ‘Crazy’.

We trace Horn’s early days as a Beatles and Dylan fanatic, self-taught guitarist (his musician father buys him a knackered old four-string which gets broken and is never replaced) and upright bass player in the school orchestra.

There’s the constant fear of going down the mines, a fate that had befallen most of his relatives. Young Trevor eventually has to move in with his grandparents (sharing a bed with Uncle John), though they are supportive of his musical talent.

Horn moves to Leicester and starts playing double bass with big bands whose repertoire includes pop covers and light jazz. By this time, he has become an ace sight-reader, something that he values throughout his career.

He relocates to Blackpool to take up a residency with the band, his dad dropping him off with the words: ‘Well, you’re on your own now, son. You just watch it.’ Horn then hits London to play with a band called Canterbury Tales and pick up various function gigs.

As disco takes hold, Horn finds himself on the studio scene, getting a regular gig with Tina Charles and ‘fixing’ a lot of duff songs, including Leicester City’s ‘This Is The Season For Us’. The penny drops – he suddenly realises he’s a record producer.

This becomes his driving force as he moves away from the bass and meets Jill Sinclair, studio manager of SARM West (formerly Island’s Basing Street studio) and soon to be both his manager and wife. We get the fascinating story of Buggles’ ‘Video Killed The Radio Star’, Horn literally having to construct a hit out of various disparate elements.

We learn that Horn sacks ABC’s bass player Mark Lickley just before the recording of Lexicon Of Love (Horn reports that U2 later got wind of this and refused to work with him!) – he is fairly ruthless as a young producer, always with Jill in his corner, but is now repentant.

There’s a very funny chapter on working with Malcolm McLaren and The Supreme Team on Duck Rock and a toe-curling account of cooking up Yes’s US #1 single ‘Owner Of A Lonely Heart’.

We get the inside story on making Frankie’s ‘Relax’ and Holly Johnson’s court case plus Horn’s involvement with the 12” version of ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’. Horn reports that when he first meets Bob Geldof, the Boomtown Rats frontman immediately tells him he preferred Bruce Woolley’s version of ‘Video Killed The Radio Star’ to the Buggles’. Horn reacts thus: ‘What a twat. After filing him under “Rude Fucker”, I moved on…’ (They later made up.)

There are tales of painstakingly piecing together ‘Slave To The Rhythm’, Seal turning up for his 2004 Wembley charity gig (see below) at the last minute, and a trained Special Branch dog making an immediate bee-line for his bag in the dressing room. You can read the book for the funny punchline.

‘Adventures In Modern Recording’ is the very definition of the muso page-turner. Full of interesting titbits and amusing gossip, you need it if you have even the slightest interest in 1980s and 1990s pop.