Slow (Extended Mix)

"You know what I'm saying

And I haven't said a thing

Keep the record playing..."

Bursting out of my speakers on this mercifully sunny afternoon, Kylie Minogue's 'Slow' sounds every bit as seductive and extreme as it did on its release date eight years ago this November. A peerless pop production then and now, 'Slow' was masterminded by engineer Dan Carey (The Kills, Hot Chip), Icelandic singer Emiliana Torrini and, of course, the former Ms Charlene Mitchell herself.

As with lots of the landmark pop tracks I blog about, I can remember the first time I heard it - after hours in the basement of the record shop where I worked, the extended mix played off a white label. It wound its way around me, gave me no choice. It's one of those records that draws the listener in with what it leaves out. A real statement.

Tricky to pull off live (in my view), 'Slow' is all about the studio. It's a lesson in stealth and minimalism: the dryest of dry rhythm tracks, the merest hint of a synth riff, that four-note bassline - simplicity itself. Then there's Kylie, of course, all close-miked and conspiratorial, murmuring something rather promising about her 'body language'.

It's testament to the quality of the production that Michael Mayer, co-owner of Cologne's famed techno label Kompakt, was moved to cover 'Slow' in 2005. But even he could not compete with the purity of the original. His version didn't really work. Why?

Because Kylie wasn't on it.

'Slow', for me, belongs at the centre of an imagined 'Venn Diagram of Ace Pop': the place where the experiments and extremities of the underground collide with the lavish sex appeal, star quality and accessibility of the mainstream. It's one of my favourite places to spend time. Click here, here or here for more details.

Baillie Walsh, director of the 'Slow' video, contributed further to the atmosphere of the track with his highly stylised aerially shot film of poolside bathers shifting on their towels in mellifluous synchrony. Kylie's right where she should be, working it at the centre, 'best dress on' (just).

Saturday 27th August - The Deaf Institute

POP! IN THE NAME OF LOVE

August Bank Holiday's Pop 'Til You Drop sees Danielle Moore (Crazy P) and Abigail Ward (Fist of Pop) return to the Music Hall for another night of classy pop decadence under the mirror ball, whilst downstairs Pasta Paul serves up a fresh pan of al dente indie and future pop, washed down with cheap Absolut cocktails.

Firm, but not hard.

28 August 2011

10pm-3am

The Deaf Institute

135 Grosvenor Street

Manchester, United Kingdom

£5.00 in::: 10pm - 3am ::: all three floors

Slow Pop for Sultry Nights - A Mix

I really enjoyed playing the bar at Pop 'Til You Drop last Saturday. It was great to dig through all my slow jams and extended mixes. Here's a little blend of some of the stuff I chose.

For Steven, forever in his dressing gown...

Listen above or download here.

01. The Korgis - Everbody's Got To Learn Sometimes (Instrumental)

02. Yello - Of Course I'm Lying

03. Dusty Springfield - Nothing Has Been Proved (Dance Mix)

04. Sade - No Ordinary Love (Full Length Version)

05. The Eagles - I Can't Tell You Why

06. The Mythical Beasts - Communicate

07. Maxwell - Everwanting: To Want You To Want

08. Rossoulano - Friends In Lo PLaces

09. Lalomie Washburn - Try My Love

10. Kylie Minogue - Confide In Me

11. Feist - One Evening

12. Bryan Ferry - Which Way To Turn

13. The Flaming Lips - Sleeping On The Roof

14. Marvin Gaye - Sexual Healing (Alternate 12" Instrumental)

No Ordinary Love

"I gave you all the love I got

I gave you more than I could give..."

Pop 'Til You Drop, sultry summer warm-up vibes.

This is dedicated to anyone who'd forgotten that once, many years ago, there lived a beautiful mermaid called Helen Folasade Adu.

She wrote lots of great songs about cool guys and sold over fifty million records.

In the late nineties, following a career hiatus, rumours abounded that the notoriously private songstress had a heroin habit.

I doubt any hit, however pure, could ever be as good as 'No Ordinary Love'.

Amy Winehouse 1983 - 2011

"We only said goodbye with words...."

I used to love watching Popworld on a Sunday morning - the Simon and Mikita years - early on when Amstell was still playing by the rules, but only just. I remember seeing an interview with newcomer Amy Winehouse. She was charming (that accent!), still quite curvaceous and tattoo-free. I took to her immediately and bought the debut album, but as she admitted herself, it was 'only 80% there'.

When I first saw the video for 'Rehab' featuring the Dap-Kings gamely jamming along in their pyjamas I knew she'd cracked it. I played the 'Back To Black' album to death that year (2006), and it's not left my DJ bag for long since. It's interesting to look at the writing credits for both records. 'Frank' is co-written for the most part, with multiple contributors, in what looks like a 'write a word/take a third' vibe, but by 'Back To Black' Amy had seized control as principal songwriter. It annoys me that so few people seem to comment on how striking and vivid her lyricism was. That line, he left no time to regret/kept his dick wet/with his same old safe bet, gets me every time. Whilst I'm fond of Sharon Jones's work with the Dap-Kings, there isn't a song in her entire back catalogue that contains a couplet like that.

Another thing about 'Back To Black' is Amy's phrasing. I love the way she leans on the timing on we only *said* goodbye with words. She must have been, what? twenty-two, three when she was recording that. I can think of plenty of jazz legends that didn't reach that level of weary couldn't-give-a-fuck-ness 'til their forties.

The Winehouse sense of humour was as underrated as her lyricism. There was the moment in a later Popworld broadcast when footage of Lesley Joseph in 'Birds of A Feather' was interspersed with Amy shouting 'MUUUUUUUUM!' . Or her description of the work of Dido as 'the background music to a death' springs to mind.

I saw Amy play at the Academy in '07. It was fantastic. I also saw her at Glastonbury the same year. I can remember getting myself a good spot, all zipped up in my waterproofs with just my trusty hip flask for company, rain drops dripping off the end of my nose. As soon as she hit the stage her unique presence and warmth enveloped me as persuasively as the whisky. A real Glasto moment.

'So now the final frame'.

R.I.P.

Jam

"We must live each day like it's the last..."

On July 30th - the date of our next Pop 'Til You Drop party - it will be exactly nineteen years since I saw Michael Jackson perform at Wembley Stadium as part of his 'Dangerous' tour.

The memories are indelible. It was an incredibly hot day. My friend fainted and I was sick before MJ even came on, due in no small part, I'm sure, to the double-whammy assault of support acts Kriss Kross and Rozalla.

Michael's characteristically muted entrance involved him being catapulted upwards out of a trapdoor centre-stage, following a blast of 'Carmina Burana'. He stood motionless for some minutes (too many, I remember thinking) while we all screamed our throats raw. And then 'Jam' kicked in. Teddy Riley's granite-hard beats were like blows to my vital organs.

The rap in 'Jam' is performed by Heavy D, who, Wikipedia informs me, is now a 'reggae-fusion' artist. Rap middle eights, especially very poor ones, are a source of fascination to me - my Mastermind subject, if you like. So those attending on the 30th would be advised to brace themselves if I am spotted picking up the mike. To complete the tribute I will also be leaving the stage at Deaf by jet pack, via a skylight, dressed as an astronaut. Go with it! Go with it! Jam!

TVC15

"I brought my baby home,
She sat around forlorn..."

Watch TOTP dance troupe Ruby Flipper wrapping their legs round Bowie's 'TVC15'.

Incredible shenanigans.

Taken from the amazing One For The Dads blog.

Thanks, as always, to the eagle-eyed JSZ.

Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep

Whilst I will always be a pop kid at heart, I have a strong dislike for excessively chirpy records. As an insomniac, I frequently find myself tormented by certain tunes that seem to squat in my brain and thumb their noses at me all night, relenting only when that ultimate of chirpy taunts – the dawn chorus – begins.

In an attempt to exorcise some of these smug ditties (that’s what they are: ditties), I hauled myself up at 4am yesterday morning and wrote a list. Here are ten tracks that have an unacceptable chirp-to-tune ratio. They will never be played at Pop ‘Til You Drop. They are the musical equivalent of someone tapping you urgently on the shoulder for twelve hours, and then shouting ‘NOTHING!’ when you finally turn around.

1. Maria Muldaur – Midnight At The Oasis

2. Jim Noir – Eany Meany

3. Jon Cutler featuring E-Man – It’s Yours

4. The Velvet Underground – I’m Sticking With You

5. Peter, Bjorn and John – Young Folks

6. Luther Vandross & Janet Jackson –

The Best Things In Life Are Free

7. OutKast – Hey Ya!

8. Len - Steal My Sunshine

9. Joni Mitchell – Big Yellow Taxi

10. Presidents of the United States of America – Peaches

SEND YOUR FUCKING CAMEL TO BED.

Love Will Save The Day

"When you're feeling full of doubt

And fear has got you in a bind

Love will save the day..."

I have done my best throughout my life to avoid the work of Whitney Houston. That never-ending winter of 1992 still casts a shadow. There was I, fifteen years old, miserable, watching ‘I Will Always Love You’ on The Chart Show for the umpteenth week, just yearning for something (anything) else to hit the number one spot. And there was Whitney, splay-legged, hands in that saintly clasp, wobbling her jaw to achieve maximum vibrato… God, she made me want to slash my armpits with boredom. No wonder records like this sounded so good.

But recent events have forced me to re-evaluate one tiny section of the Twitney back catalogue. At the second Pop ‘Til You Drop back in April, my partner in crime DJ Danielle Moore dropped ‘Love Will Save The Day’. I had just wedged myself into the toilet and was happily adding to the graffiti (I <3 Shep Pettibone) when the disquieting realisation that I was enjoying a Whitney Houston record hit me. Then, seconds later, lettuce barely shaken, I found myself careering around the dancefloor like an inebriated farmhand whilst paying customers looked on aghast.

By coincidence, last Monday evening, during an extravagantly lubricated Spotify session here at Pop Heights, ‘Love Will Save The Day’ surfaced again, confirming my suspicion that the tune is a wig-lifting, wab-wobbling, gusset-splitting anthem of titanic proportions, in spite of its cloying ‘message’.

The next day, after a couple of light ales, I was persuaded by my Whitney-loving friend to investigate the White Vest album further. One fraught listen off cassette on a car stereo, during which I left bite marks on my own fist, revealed there is little else on there for the taking. Whitney’s version of ‘I Know Him So Well’, performed with her mother (somewhat inappropriately), sounds like two car alarms arguing in an empty turbine hall. ‘Didn’t We Almost Have It All’ is another wallpaper-stripping ballad that Ms. Houston approaches with all the subtlety and restraint of a newly promoted Drill Sergeant. The whole album is plastered in the kind of electric piano that makes you feel like you’re having the contents of a Cadbury’s Creme Egg squeezed into your earhole as you listen. It really does make a girl want to smoke crack.

Which I almost did, back in 1993, when eventually Whitney was knocked off her perch by this:

A punishing year for pop music ensued.

Let There Be Music

The 'Let's Change The World With Music' album was composed and recorded in demo form back in 1992, but rejected by Prefab Sprout's record label. This release is actually Paddy McAloon's original demo, performed entirely by him back in '92, but slightly remastered by Calum Malcolm in 2009.

'Let There Be Music' is a Pop 'Til You Drop early doors statement of intent.

See you on the dancefloor!

When I'm With You

When I get drunk, I have a tendency to hold interminable pub conferences about what makes a good love song. My list of favourites is several miles long, but I often come back to 'When I'm With You' by Sparks for its strange accuracy and lightness of touch.

The track was produced by Giorgio Moroder and Harold Faltermeyer and is taken from the superbly titled 'Terminal Jive' album from 1980.

And if the video doesn't give you the raging horn, you're dead from the waist down.

"When I'm with you

I never have a problem when I'm with you

I'm really well-adjusted

When I'm with you

When I'm with you

I lose a lot of sleep when I'm with you

I meet a lot of people

When I'm with you

It's the break in the song

When I should say something special

But the pressure is on and I can't make up nothing special

Not when I'm with you

When I'm with you

I never feel like garbage when I'm with you

I almost feel normal

When I'm with you

When I'm with you

I'm always hot and bothered when I'm with you

I always need a shower

When I'm with you

It's the break in the song

When I should say something special

But the pressure is on and I can't make up nothing special

Not when I'm with you

When I'm with you

I never need a mirror when I'm with you

I don't care what I look like

When I'm with you"

Reach For Love

"I freeze, baby,

At the thought of leaving you behind..."

The question I least like being asked when I am DJing is:

“Are you the DJ?”

Closely followed by:

“Whenyer gunner play some Manchester stuff?”

But over the years I have developed coping mechanisms for both. For the first I have an affronted and unyielding Ron Mael-esque stare that says, ‘If you come near me again I will pin your scrotum to this turntable and then press start.’

For the second I have Marcel King.

What a record.

I first came across the amazing ‘N.Y. mix’ of ‘Reach For Love’ on an American blog years ago, and after perusing Discogs was surprised to discover the track came out on Factory Benelux in 1984. It was produced by New Order’s Bernard Sumner and Donald Johnson of ACR – Manchester’s all-time *heaviest* drummer. Apparently, this collaboration came about after New Order manager Rob Gretton – a massive soul head, of course – found Marcel sleeping rough in the back of a car. I’m not sure how much truth there is in this rumour.

Rob would have known Marcel from his tenure as front man for Sweet Sensation – the eight-piece Philly-style Manchester soul group that won the talent show New Faces in 1973 and had a hit with ‘Sad Sweet Dreamer’.

‘Reach For Love’ is one of those records that never leaves my DJ bag. It’s like an old mate that can be relied upon to boot you smartly up the arse, buy you a pint and haul you onto the dancefloor when you need it most. Marcel’s vocal is something else: euphoric and yet easy-going, with just a tantalising hint of remonstration on those “I’ve been trying to show you a better way” lines. The production still sounds killer – even on shit café soundsystems. You have to be careful at what point you drop ‘Reach For Love’, though, because it can flatten other records with its knock-out punch.

Tragically, Marcel King died of a cerebral haemorrhage in 1995, aged just 38.

R.I.P, sir. You fucking rocked.

Juxtapozed With U

"I'm not in love with you

But I won't hold that against you..."

Whilst here at Pop Heights we do occasionally suffer from a touch of vocoder-fatigue, we never tire of 'Juxtaposed With U'.

According to Wikipedia, the song was inspired by 'Ebony and Ivory'(!) as well as the work of Marvin Gaye and Caetano Veloso. The track was originally conceived as a duet, with the band approaching both Brian Harvey (from East 17) and Bobby Brown to sing alongside Gruff Rhys. Both turned the band down, so Rhys sang the verses through a vocoder to imitate another person, something which he described later as a "very schizophrenic thing to do".

Union City Blue

"Tunnel to the other side

It becomes daylight

I say he's mine..."

How can a track like 'Union City Blue' - essentially a pop song with no discernible chorus - be so stirring, panoramic and unforgettable? Really, it's just several verses strung together in a rather humdrum cycle, and yet it is one of the strongest songs in the Blondie catalogue. It's so free-flowing and airy it sounds as though it took Debbie Harry and bassist Nigel Harrison (a Stockport lad, by the way) mere seconds to jam out. They obviously had the confidence to just let it fly. All power to them for not structuring the life out of it.

I find the track evocative of my teenage years in Preston. I used to blast it out in my ten-foot by ten-foot bedsit, often in an attempt to mask the sounds of the middle-aged man in the room opposite shagging his alsatian. The song personified everything I longed for at that point: escape; enterprise; the sheer glamour and scale of city life. All those words Harry throws at the listener - Skyline! Passion! Power! How they reeled me in.

I went to see Blondie in 2000. It wasn't an amazing experience, but it was one I thought I'd never have. Chris Stein looked so frail and ill he gave the impression of being propped up and operated from behind by a complex pulley system. Debbie was throwing herself around like a pissed grandma on a bouncy castle to compensate. But when Clem Burke started slamming out the tom tom intro of 'Union City Blue', I nearly pissed myself with excitement. He looked and sounded perfect.

'Union City Blue' is as much Clem's song as it is Nigel and Debbie's. The end of the track is as heart-stopping as the opening. For almost the whole of the last minute, Clem is smashing the shit out of every cymbal available. Few other pop producers would countenance such a relentless hammering of splash, ride and crash, but Mike Chapman knew better than to argue. Pure exhilaration.

On a final note, I have always noticed that, live, Debbie Harry tends to sing "powder" rather than "power". I'm not entirely sure what this might be a reference to...

(Starts 3:45 minutes in.)

Freebirds

"Freebirds fly away

They just don't stay..."

Picked this up on a chunky little seven at the weekend. It has everything I need from a pop song at the moment: sleek production, soothingly predictable chord changes that you can sink into like a hot bath, and a desolate vocal about losing a lover to that ol' homebreaker 'freedom'.

Nice video too.

Lover Lover are Eleanor Bodenham and Martin Craft (M. Craft, Jarvis Cocker) with producer Nick Littlemore (Empire of the Sun).

You can hear an acoustic version here:

Lover Lover - Freebirds Acoustic by Cross Keys Records

http://www.piccadillyrecords.com/products/LoverLover-Freebirds-CrossKeysRecords-76286.html