Trevor Horn: Echoes – Ancient & Modern

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, sadly, 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, though – 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 (for the second time, 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 take 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 too (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 – shame Holly Johnson, Claudia Brucken or even Glenn Gregory couldn’t be persuaded to do a twirl.

Julian Cope: Full-On

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What I knew of Julian Cope pre-2016:

1. He was the singer in early-’80s pop band The Teardrop Explodes.
2. He was a solo artist later in the decade and had some decent hits like ‘World Shut Your Mouth’, ‘Trampolene’ and ‘Charlotte Anne’.
3. He is interested in paganism and various esoterica.
4. He has published a few well-regarded memoirs.

Well, that’s a start. But suddenly everything’s going Cope-crazy round my gaff. For starters, I recently read one of said memoirs ‘Head-On/Repossessed’ after coming across it in my local library, a hilarious, unhinged, Withnailesque account of a singer’s journey through the 1980s pop firmament.

Here’s a slightly-edited excerpt, an account of Cope’s first acid-assisted appearance on ‘Top Of The Pops’ alongside the other Explodes including arch nemesis/keyboardist Dave Balfe.

By the time we reached the BBC TV Centre in London, everyone was f***ed up. We seethed out of the car and moved as one gibbering person towards the dressing room. Tony Hadley (of Spandau Ballet) walked elegantly down the corridor.

‘Hey, there’s Spandoo!’, cried Balfe, and I danced around the singer, psychotically friendly and encouraging.

We piled into the dressing room. Waiting around was not a drag. We got to see Toyah lisp her way through some piece of kack and we got to dance on the stage during our rehearsals. The acid made us happy and nice. We gushed around the place like inbreds at a New England dinner party.

Then we were on. Suddenly the song (‘Reward’) sounded like a massive hit. ‘Top Of The Pops’, man. It’s total bullshit. But it’s brilliant. I loved it. Let’s be huge.

Afterwards, we partied at some club, as you do. Women were nice to me. Men complimented me. I just sat there drooling all night…

A few months later, Cope finds himself invited back to the ‘TOTP’ studios to perform ‘Passionate Friend’ for the 1981 Christmas special. He comes across another of his pop contemporaries:

A group called Bucks Fizz were doing their thing on the other side of the studio. I watched, fascinated. I felt sucked into their scene. God, they were brilliant. I wanted to be in Bucks Fizz…

‘Head-On’ continues very much in this vein, and it’s superb. ‘Repossessed’ concerns Cope’s life and solo career later in the ’80s. It begins with him surveying the wreckage of The Teardrop Explodes:

Here was I, struck down with shamanistic depression, while Balfe had immediately gone off and set up a new label called Food Records, with the cynical, f***-you-up-the-ass ’80s motto: LET US PREY!

F***, man, you invented the ’80s. Learn from your mistakes, you gormless, bug-eyed bushbaby! You’ve preyed on everyone these past years – d’ you have to make such a Thatcherite celebration of it, you unmystical f***er?

If there’s a better put-down in music-biography history, I’ve yet to read it. And then I had a vague recollection of Cope making a memorable appearance on a great programme from the late ’80s called ‘Star Test’ (though, perhaps tellingly, it’s not mentioned in ‘Repossessed’).

Finally, one last recent Cope discovery, fascinating and entertaining, creating lots of food for thought and travel tips. You certainly couldn’t call him an unmystical f***er.

(PS: Julian and Spinal Tap’s David St Hubbins: separated at birth?)