Tag Archives: paulmccartney

Conspiracy Theories Of 1980s Music

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Bob Carolgees and friend

‘Conspiracy theories’: you can’t move for ’em these days, and things aren’t much different here at movingtheriver.com.

The 1980s: a decade when uncredited ‘guest’ performances were many, producers demanded rip-offs of other musicians (a popular drummer joke* of the 1980s, with many variations: how many drummers does it take to change a lightbulb? Ten. One to change the bulb, nine to talk about how Steve Gadd would have done it…), hits came with writs and things were never quite what they seemed.

So it’s not surprising that conspiracy theories flourished during the 1980s. Here are some good ones (swearing alert). Bullsh*t or not? YOU decide. (Maybe none are as famous as the ‘Paul Is Dead’ saga, but wtf…):

8. Kirsty MacColl sings backup vocals on Dire Straits’ ‘Walk Of Life’
Uncredited of course, but these pre-chorus stacks, first heard at 1:19, sound very much like the much-missed vocalist.

7. Donna Summer performed all of Irene Cara’s vocals
Come on, they are interchangeable. Apologies to anyone in Cara’s family or Cara herself but she sounds freakily like Summer on ‘Fame’ and ‘Flashdance (What A Feeling)’.

6. George Michael wrote ‘Round And Round’ for Jaki Graham
In exchange for what? The classic single is just so in George’s ballpark, of course helped by Derek Bramble’s sparkly state-of-1985 production (he gets the songwriting credit too).

5. Adrian Edmondson of ‘The Young Ones’/The Comic Strip/’Bottom’ fame made the spoof 1984 jazz/funk classic ‘F*cking C*unt/Awkward Bastard’
Rumours abound that it’s Ade, or a few members of The Damned. No one is quite sure and no one has ever owned up, but it’s still brilliant.

4. The Dukes Of Stratosphear’s ‘Brainiac’s Daughter’ is actually a Paul McCartney joint
No one has done ‘Happy Macca’ circa 1968 as well as the Dukes, AKA XTC. But was this ACTUALLY a lost Beatles track?

3. John Bonham stuck around long enough to drum on Survivor’s 1982 hit ‘Eye Of The Tiger’
It’s just sounds so much like the Led Zep sticksman, who died in 1980. It’s the feel, and the sound of his kick and snare drums.

2. Level 42’s Mark King played bass on David Bowie’s ‘Tumble And Twirl’
Actually this one is probably ‘true’. He doesn’t get a credit on the album liners but King himself mentioned (in this podcast) doing a few sessions at the Townhouse Studios in Shepherds Bush around spring 1984 with producer/engineer Hugh Padgham so it’s quite probable. In any case it’s certainly right in his ‘Lopsy Lu’/’Heathrow’ comfort zone, and brilliant slap playing.

1. Bob Carolgees played the famous sax melody on George Michael’s ‘Careless Whisper’(That’s enough ‘conspiracy theories’, Ed…)

*Here’s a bonus drummer joke, because I’ve just read and loved it: What does a drummer use for contraception? His/her personality.

1980s Pop: The Worst Bits

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We’ve looked at some of the great bits before, but what about the worst bits of ’80s pop, those moments that have you screaming at the radio?

Those randomly-generated solos, irritating choruses, ill-advised technological experiments or disastrous vocal sojourns?

Sometimes crap bits can ruin a perfectly decent song. But whose fault are they? You can often feel the band ‘spokesperson’ putting his oar in, going against the journeyman producer who probably wanted to get some session players in anyway.

And are there recurring themes? The dodgy sax solo is an ’80s staple. There are definitely repeat offenders (hello Midge). And maybe there are types of music that lend themselves to crap bits too (soft rock, mid-’80s techno-pop).

So roll up, roll up! Join us for the worst bits of 1980s pop…

15. Herb Alpert’s trumpet solo on Janet Jackson’s ‘Someday Is Tonight’
Searching for some Miles-style, brooding sexiness, label boss Herb luxuriates in Jam and Lewis’s delicious soundworld for a few seconds, picks up his trumpet and…

14. The chorus of Level 42’s ‘Running In The Family’
The most anodyne single of their glittering career, not helped by some creepy lyrics and a yukky, somewhat out-of-tune chorus.

13. The sax solo on Aztec Camera’s ‘Somewhere In My Heart’

12. The ‘false ending’ to T’Pau’s ‘China In Your Hand’

11. Lisa Stansfield’s spoken-word intro to ‘All Around The World’
Pass the sick bag. Yes, the song is an unashamed ‘tribute’ to Bazza White’s eroto-soul, but Lisa probably should have parked the sexy-as-a-dentist-chair, American-accented spoken-word opening of this UK number one (she should have done it in her Rochdale accent… – Ed.).

10. The guitar solo on Philip Bailey/Phil Collins’ ‘Easy Lover’
It’s crying out for some widdly Van Halen-inspired techno flash, but unfortunately Daryl Steurmer can only manage a tepid, weirdly unmemorable pass…

9. The sax solo on Spandau Ballet’s ‘True’
A classic ’80s single, almost ruined by Steve Norman’s dire feature. He sounds like a kid who’s just been given an alto sax for Christmas.

8. Steve Hogarth’s piano solo on The The’s ‘Heartland’
Much beloved in some circles but always sounds a bit tentative and formless to these ears.

7. The chorus of Duran Duran’s ‘Wild Boys’

6. The sampled vocal bits in Kylie Minogue’s ‘I Should Be So Lucky’
A horrible song from top to tail, but the keyboard ‘solo’ puts the tin lid on it. See also Rick Astley’s ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ and Mel & Kim’s ‘Respectable’.

5. Gazza’s rapping on ‘Fog On The Tyne (Revisited)’

4. Billy Joel’s ‘We Didn’t Start The Fire’
Just the whole song. Period.

3. The chorus of Ultravox’s ‘Dancing With Tears In My Eyes’
If you look up ‘bombastic’ in the dictionary, you’ll see a little thumbnail of Midge.

2. The chorus of Midge Ure’s ‘If I Was’
See above.

1. The spoken bits on Michael Jackson’s ‘The Girl Is Mine’
This one divides opinion. Macca and Jacko’s little tete-a-tete has been the cause of much merriment, but it somehow fits the song. Still rubbish though…

Gig Review: Kevin Armstrong @ Pizza Express Holborn, 12th September 2018

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DB and Kevin A, 1986 photo by Paul McAlpine

It would be tempting to call Kevin Armstrong the ultimate ‘nearly man’ of 1980s pop – he nearly joined a post-Johnny-Marr Smiths, was nearly a founder member of David Bowie’s Tin Machine, nearly joined Level 42 Mark II, and nearly became Paul McCartney’s right-hand man during the ex-Beatle’s late-decade renaissance.

But that would be unfair on the guitarist; as well as stellar work with Bowie (Live Aid, ‘Absolute Beginners’, ‘Dancing In The Streets’) and Iggy Pop (Blah-Blah-Blah, countless world tours), he has also contributed to classic albums by Prefab Sprout, Thomas Dolby and Morrissey and performed live with Roy Orbison, Sinead O’Connor, Grace Jones, Propaganda and PiL.

This entertaining Pizza Express show was half wonderfully-indiscreet spoken-word memoir and half gig. Decked out in all-black rock-star garb, Armstrong described his initiation into the music world via an obsession with Zappa’s ‘Black Napkins’ and postal-order guitar handbooks, and lamented the current pop scene as ‘just another part of consumer culture’.

He spoke of one life-changing morning in early 1985 when he received the call from legendary EMI A&R man Hugh Stanley-Clarke: an invitation to Abbey Road to record with ‘Mr X’.

Arriving at the famous address, Armstrong was shown upstairs to a tiny demo studio (not the big Beatles-frequenting Studio 1 downstairs) to find a bunch of session players and a smiling, suited Bowie holding an omnichord and uttering the totally superfluous ‘Hi, I’m David!’.

Bowie then proceeded to teach the band a song called ‘That’s Motivation’ (from the ‘Absolute Beginners’ soundtrack) two bars at a time – and they then recorded it that way too.

A few days later, Bowie summoned Armstrong to Westside Studios near Ladbroke Grove for the ‘Absolute Beginners’ and ‘Dancing In The Street’ recordings (the former with vocals by Armstrong’s sister, then working behind the till at Dorothy Perkins, responding to Bowie’s request for a ‘shopgirl’ to sing duet with him!).

The latter session was of course graced by an absurdly perky Mick Jagger. Apparently Bowie and Jagger spent most of the vocal sessions shouting ‘Let’s ring Maureen!’, their nickname for Elton John.

Armstrong then told great tales of Live Aid, mainly highlighting Bowie’s incredible generosity: fluffing the names of backing vocalists Helena Springs and Tessa Niles during his onstage band introductions (no other solo artist introduced his/her band on the day), according to Armstrong he immediately apologised profusely to the singers as soon as they were offstage.

There were further funny tales of Gil Evans, Iggy and McCartney (who apparently once smoked some unbelievably strong grass with Armstrong, said ‘That’s you stoned!’ to the erstwhile guitarist, then promptly disappeared) and an exceptionally eccentric Grace Jones who allegedly took a distinct liking to Armstrong at a party, taking him by the hand and leading him away for some sexual shenanigans.

Who should intervene but Bowie, grabbing Armstrong’s other hand and whispering in the guitarist’s ear: ‘No you don’t. She’ll have you for breakfast, sunshine…’

In the second half, Armstrong was joined by Iggy bandmates Ben Ellis on bass and Matt Hector on drums to perform songs that he’d played live with all the aforementioned stars.

Efficiently sung and superbly played, it was nevertheless a somewhat humourless set of music that only served to emphasise the difference between a perennial sessionman and born headliner.

But this was still a hugely enjoyable evening, foregrounding a time when music really was transformative. We await Armstrong’s forthcoming memoir with great anticipation.

Six More 1980s Christmas Songs Not Just For Christmas

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Here we go again, then. Ducking the bombardment of crappy Christmas musical missives, and two years on from the first collection, we present a few more festive tracks that – hopefully – don’t require the services of a sickbag.

A very Merry Christmas to all.

6. Paul McCartney: Pipes Of Peace (1983)

Paul’s Christmas 1983 chart-topper is, surprisingly, his only UK solo number one single (no doubt helped by the impressive video). The melody maestro puts together a hook-laden mini-symphony that Brian Wilson would surely be proud of. Producer George Martin even conjures a bit of Pepper-style surrealism for the intro.

5. Chris Rea: Joys Of Christmas (1987)

It can’t be easy writing a ‘downer’ Christmas song. ‘Joys Of Christmas’ was a single but wasn’t a hit, reaching just 67 in the UK, but it still sounds like a minor classic, lyrically a harrowing portrait of the North East underclass and musically a kind of ZZ Top/Robert Palmer hybrid (what’s with that weird ‘Addicted To Love’ accordion?) with some scorching Telecaster work. And his voice has never sounded better – he hits some amazing low notes in the verses.

4. Joan Jett: Little Drummer Boy (1981)

I first heard this on the soundtrack of the 1983 guilty-pleasure movie ‘Class’ and have had a soft spot for it ever since. It was never a single but appeared for a while on Jett’s breakthrough album I Love Rock’n’Roll until it was bumped off in favour of something less seasonal.

3. Wham!: Last Christmas (1984)

Recorded at London’s Advision studios in August 1984, George insisted on playing all instruments (including some very dodgy bass). But the bittersweet lyrics, twinkling synths, George’s gossamer vocals and the poignant memory of his death a year ago make it an indispensable seasonal hit. It was kept off the 1984 Christmas number one spot in the UK by Band Aid’s ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’.

2. The Replacements: Beer For Breakfast (1983)

Is it a Christmas song? Dunno, but Paul Westerberg drawls ‘I’m dreaming of a white Christmas’ halfway through, and maybe it’s a portrait of his Christmas Day libations. Good effort (swearing alert).

1. Chris Rea: Driving Home For Christmas (1988)

Rea’s song was only a minor yuletide hit on its original UK release in 1988 (though written in 1984 and recorded in 1986) but it’s still played regularly and has made the top 100 every year it’s been re-released. Rea told Classic Rock magazine recently: ‘I do regret that I never got it to Van Morrison because that’s who I wrote it for. I thought he would have done a marvellous job. But I can’t knock it. I always think, if I don’t hear “Driving Home For Christmas”, it means I can no longer go on holiday…’