Posted on by chasinvictoria

The Stiff Records Box Set — Disc 3

The Stiff Records Box Set — Disc 3
Stiff Records, 1992
4CD box set + booklet

THE PROLOGUE

We’ve already sampled 50 songs from the Stiff catalog, and my suggestion is you don’t do this in one sitting! It’s all (well, very high percentage) good-to-great stuff, and a snapshot of an era as well as a label. But will Punk-New Wave-Powerpop-Pub—Rock-Uncategorized fatigue set in? Let’s find out!

In response to some readers – yes, we’ll cover the booklet when we get to Disc 4, and yes, I probably should have done that with the Disc 1 review. Insert traditional UK two-finger wag … here.

THE MUSIC

If you were feeling a little fatigued from listening to (or just reading about) the first 50 songs, Disc 3 is here with a shot of Vitamin Groove to revive you. Stiff could hardly have picked two more energetic, get-up-and-dance-you-fool numbers than Madness’ mid-tempo-domestic-squabble-set-to-ska song “My Girl” to kick things off, and then followed it with Jamaica’s musical master Desmond Dekker’s insanely catchy 1968 reggae classic “Israelites.”

Joe “King” Carrasco (and The Crowns) has the uneviable duty to follow that, but does a decent job with his equally-partying and Wurlitzer-led Tex-Mex hit “Buena,” which of course incorporates some Spanish into the mix.

We shift gears with Graham Parker’s faux-punk rockin’ diatribe “Stupefaction,” complete with a snarling indictment of life in Los Angeles. It was the first single from his final album with the (uncredited) Rumour, The Up Escalator, and while the single didn’t chart, the album was his best-selling record to that point (1980). If you like the song and his attitude, you’ll enjoy the album.

Next up is a masterpiece of the New Wave era — a “love” song that probably could never have been written, performed, or been a success in any other era. Jona Lewie’s biggest hit, “You’ll Always Find Me in the Kitchen at Parties,” was a song I identified with in my very early teen years, until I become the social butterfly I am today (heh).

It’s minimalist, it’s low-key, it’s monotone, and I love it (and it’s not like everything else he’s done). I’m sure it was intended as a “novelty” single, but it bypassed Doctor Demento and became a surprise Top 20 hit in the UK, reaching the #3 spot in New Zealand and parking there (on both charts) for weeks on end.

To the best of my knowledge, there’s only been one “cover” of this song … in 2010, a duo called Man Like Me took the backing track, replaced Lewie’s vocals with their own, and made a video. It’s not horrible, it’s not great, and it’s on YouTube if you want to see it.

If you’ve never heard the original, good lord people — listen to it RIGHT NOW. It’s an Awkward Teenager Redemption Anthem! Plus, this particular video features bonus Kirsty MacColl!

This is followed by the joyous power-pop of Any Trouble, with the song “Trouble With Love.” The group as a whole had its ups and downs, but I have always been a fan of anything lead singer and songwriter Clive Gregson cared to put down on tape — he does a great job of marrying upbeat pop with “unlucky in love” lyrics.

Dave (L.) Stewart — not the guy from the later Eurythmics — spent his time at Stiff mostly covering old songs, as far as I can tell. He had played with bands like Hatfield and the North in the 70s, but by 1981 he was putting out singles with guest vocalists.

The first of two such collaborations we’ll hear on this disc is “What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted,” with vocals by Colin Blunstone (formerly the singer for The Zombies) with some female backing vocals. The song, from 1966, was first recorded by the great soul singer Jimmy Ruffin, who really poured a sense of genuine heartache into it.

Almost every singer who has covered the song since has hewed very close to the original arrangement, but often don’t bring the anguish Ruffin did. It’s the same problem here: Stewart’s instrumentation, while nicely departing from the Ruffin arrangement, replaces it with a cold, synthy-piano-led, clinical style. Blunstone’s singing, while pleasant, is likewise perfunctory for the most part. We’re not looking forward to more of the same later.

Since the last song was so soulless, it follows that Graham Parker would have to follow with his sarcastic takedown of his (former by this point) record label, “Mercury Poisoning,” which is a rollicking complaint letter set to music. His new record company (Arista at the time) had no issues with it, but Parker didn’t last too long there either. This live version got licensed to Stiff and they ran with it, and emerged seemingly unscathed (at least, I’m unaware of any song by Parker with a play on the name Stiff …).

Dirty Looks was one of those bands that always seemed interesting, seemed promising, but at least for me they never managed to push it over the line into being a fan. “Let Go” is a nicely energetic and tuneful number with a great pre-chorus praising the rock n roll spirit embodied in the advice of the title. It’s a good single that probably should have done better than it did — see what you think:

Madness returns with their clown car of fun ska and “nutty boys” story-songs with “Baggy Trousers,” showing that their style had legs to cover more than just their first (brilliant) album. Madness by this point is a reliable and predictable brand, beloved by skinheads and grandmas alike. Nice trick if you can pull it off!

Dave Stewart returns, this time with regular partner Barbara Gaskin in tow, for another off-beat take on a standard: this time, “It’s My Party.” This version works better than Dave’s cover of “Broken Hearted,” because the song was a torch song in the first place, and so performing it like a morose ballad technically makes it a better version that Lesley Gore’s original, but I still prefer Gore’s version. The girl-group backing vocals just put the cherry on this synth-minimalist but perceptive cake.

Speaking of covers, John Otway’s take on the old country standard “The Green Green Grass of Home” is … well hang on, who is this person anyway? I confess I’m not that familiar with him, but he appears to be simply an eccentric musician who tries to do thing in his own unique way.

So, knowing that, it’s possible to appreciate this sometimes atonal, weirdly performed, nearly acapella first minute of the cover, followed by the full band kicking in and Otway singing a raucus version in the second half. It’s certainly a “chaser” between the first half and the second half of the disc, I’ll say that.

Following that, Tenpole Tudor swing around playfully with “Three Bells in a Row,” a tuneful song about “fruit machines,” (coin-operated UK roulette machines where you try to line up three items in a row, with the big winner being three bells). Frontman Ed Tudor-Pole is just out for a good time, and pretty much all the music I’ve heard from the band is the audio equivalent of a good-time pub crawl.

It was good choice to sequence Jona Lewie’s cheery (or as cheery as his deadpan voice allows) “Stop the Calvary” as the next track, as it keeps up the good mood and suddenly turns into a Christmas single unexpectedly (and it’s still played around Christmas time on UK radio to this day).

What’s next? The two songs by Department S you’re ever likely to have heard before, “Going Left Right” and “Is Vic There?” Oh but plot twist — the version of “Is Vic There?” is the French version! Qu’elle surprise!

The former song has a driving style with a lovely swirling synth dressing and snarky lyrics about disco dancing. I still like this song very much, and wish they’d done more in this vein, even though it’s the longest song on this disc (at four and a half minutes).

“Is Vic There?” is a fragment of a phone conversation turned into another catchy, intense yet danceable single, with both French and English lyrics. I should really look into the rest of their output, but I can only think of a handful of Department S songs I’ve ever heard, and they’ve all been good.

Here’s the English-language version of the track.

Now we come to a band called the Equators that I know nothing of other than this one song. “If You Need Me,” has a ska influence to it, and there’s nothing really wrong with the song other than it being a bland love tune, lyrically. It didn’t inspire me to investigate them further.

As if in reaction to the mediocrity of the Equators, Tenpole Tudor return to overturn the table, spike the punch, and swing from the chandelier in an attempt to bring the party back to life with “Wunderbar.” It’s not as energetic as punk in the verses, but it chugs along nicely and the chorus is a big drunk gang singing the word “wunderbar” and whistling as only a big drunk gang can. As good as it is, they get one-upped in due course.

“Allamana” is a quite forgettable number by Desmond Dekker, and was likely a b-side. Nuff said.

We shift gears pretty hard from this string of ska-jacent music with the arrival of Alvin Stardust and his urgent mission to put a new spin on the traditional 50s love ballad. Blessed with the smoothest voice this side of Buddy Holly, he ups the tempo, drips with echo, and has perfectly harmonious backup singers. It’s fabulous.

Billy Bremner of Rockpile (and Nick Lowe and Dave Edmunds’ various other records) drops by with a serviceable but relaxed performance of a song called “Loud Music in Cars,” where the title is not only the subject, but the first words sung (and he has a pleasant-enough voice, though the influence of Lowe and Edmunds is keenly felt). It’s a simple Scottish pop song about a simple subject — loud music in cars is something Bremner enjoys, apparently. It somehow sticks in your head, though.

Oh, but then … Tenpole Tudor return to take us away from all that amiable-pop-rock crap with another stomper likely to be sung by football hooligans, “Throwing My Baby Out With the Bathwater,” a good-time breakup song.

This is stunningly well one-upped by a band called Pookiesnackenburger, who I am astonished to report managed not only to produce more than this one madcap song, but indeed produced two complete albums I really must investigate. “Just One Cornetto,” flatly, my favourite song on this disc by a long way.

Following some incomprehensible chatter, the song begins with a Madness-like call to action, becoming a party set to music and a delightfully mad lyric — a love song to an ice cream novelty, the beloved Cornetto. The whole thing is as delightfully mad as the band’s name, and all over in 2’26”. Love it.

Next is Via Vagabond with a driving, swinging jazz number called, brilliantly, “Who Likes Jazz.” It’s wonderfully performed with blazing piano, a touch of synth, but really driven by the drum-and-stand-up-bass 50s style tempo.

The disc concludes with Tracey Ullman with another slab of 60’s style girl-pop, with a beautifully clever title lyric — “you broke my heart in 17 places … Shepard’s Bush was only one.” The secret sauce behind Ullman was always Kirsty MacColl, and this is one of her cleverest songs.

This was part of Tracey’s debut album of the same name, mostly consisting of an eclectic array of remakes of well-known love songs, including Blondie’s “(I’m Always Touched By Your) Presence, Dear,” and a lovely cover of Jackie DeShannon’s brilliant “Breakaway.” MacColl also contributed one of her songs she’d had a hit with herself, “They Don’t Know,” and Ullman’s version was a bigger hit than MacColl’s version — reaching the top 10 in the US and peaking at number two in the UK singles chart.

THE WRAP UP

The tracks on these discs are not arranged in strictly chronological order, but they do roughly follow the progression and diversification of the label, and we’re definitely seeing that here. Thankfully, Robinson’s ear and eye for talent remained true, but the number of Stiff acts that went on to bigger labels and greater success is a remarkable testament to that.

“Punk acts” on this compilation mostly consist of The Damned and Alberto Y Lost Trios Paranoias, and they’re not heard from after the first CD here. That said, my personal rating of “great” songs goes up to a new high mark here . Here’s the score for CD number three:

GREAT SONGS: 14
GOOD SONGS: 6
MEH SONGS: 5

Next time: Disc 4 … and oh yeah, the booklet!

Posted on by chasinvictoria

The Stiff Records Box Set – Disc 2

The Stiff Records Box Set — Disc 2
Stiff Records, 1992
4CD box set + booklet

THE PROLOGUE

Settle in, dear readers, it’s another disc and another 25 songs spread out another hour and 17 minutes, or an average runtime per song of 3’08”. As before, there’s a mix of Stiff’s artists that went on to become famous and/or influential, and a smattering of songs and artists that … didn’t.

THE MUSIC

Disc Two kicks off with another pair of songs by Nick Lowe, just as Disc One did. This time, we get the non-album track “I Love My Label,” which is probably why he got more songs on this compilation than anyone other than his protege Elvis Costello (at four songs each).

Nick’s original of it has only ever appeared on a handful of Stiff Records compilations, of which this is of course one of them, but Wilco very faithfully covered the song as a bonus track on their 2011 album The Whole Love.

This is followed by “Marie Prevost” from his first album, Jesus of Cool, released in March of 1978. It tells the tale (inaccurately) of the silent film star’s life and death. A story had gone around that part of Prevost’s dead body was consumed by her two dogs, and this was used by Lowe in the song.

It isn’t true — she died, destitute, at age 40 from alcoholism and malnutrition due to anorexia nervosa, with her body intact. One of her dogs, in fact, caused neighbours to discover that she had died via the animal’s incessant barking.

Next up is Ian Dury & The Blockheads with “What a Waste,” a song about all his squandered opportunities in other occupations, but for that he chose “to play the fool in a six-piece band.” It’s another mildly entertaining and amusing song, as is his forte.

Elvis Costello pops up next with a live track, which he announces is written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David: “I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself,” one of the duo’s many pop standards. Elvis is perhaps surprisingly sincere in his performance of the 1962 number, first made famous by Dusty Springfield’s version.

You could be forgiven for thinking that the fifth track, “Whoops-A-Daisy” by Humphrey Ocean and the Hardy Annuals, was just a more twee version of Ian Dury on a lark. In fact, however, Mr. Ocean is a real person, and a noted UK painter.

The uncanny resemblance in this track stems from Ocean’s affiliation with Dury (who was his art teacher, friend, and apparently vocal coach). Ocean had played bass in Dury’s previous band, Kilburn and the High Roads. Following this music-hall type single, Ocean gave up music and returned to painting.

This is followed by a trio of well-known songs from the New Wave era, the first of which is Lene Lovich’s outstanding cover of Tommy James and the Shondell’s 1967 hit “I Think We’re Alone Now,” originally written by Ritchie Cordell and Bo Gentry. The pop hit about two young people desperately trying to find a place to “be alone” (cough) never sounded fresher, and Lovich was rewarded with helping it chart once again.

“Jocko Homo” was DEVO’s first b-side (the a-side was “Mongoloid,”) as well as Mark Mothersbaugh’s first solo writing contribution. The name comes from a 1924 anti-evolution tract called Jocko-Homo Heavenbound, and the memorable time signatures and call-and-response chant is a play on a similar one in the movie Island of Lost Souls. It’s a compelling song because of its two time tempos (from 7/8 to 4/4 for the call-and-response part), and handily established DEVO as a completely unique band and the vanguard of the post-punk landscape called New Wave.

Ian Dury returns with one of his better-known songs, “Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick,” centered on a brilliant Chas Jankel melody and the spoken (and occasionally multi-language) poetry of Dury, not to mention an insane sax solo. One of the things that so attracts me to the New Wave movement was the incredibly size of that tent — wildly different music fit and blossomed in that tent.

“Semaphore Signals” by Wreckless Eric (one of the acts that had very limited success), is a nondescript number about lovers trying to secretly communicate. He’s a “working class” singer one might charitably say, and this is a song with a cute idea behind it but stretched too thin to support its “drunk karaoke”-style vocal performance.

Speaking of drunk performers, Jona Lewie (who did at least get one big hit out of his time with Stiff), seems like a Depression-era pianist somehow transported to the 1980s, and not sure quite what to do with himself. Thankfully, he’s pretty entertaining even when he sounds … er, relaxed, and “I’ll Get By in Pittsburgh” sounds like a closing-time tune by a pianist who’s quite relaxed about his performance. Generally I quite like Lewie’s first album, but this “Pittsburgh” was the b-side to his novelty hit “In the Kitchen at Parties” for a reason.

From there, we go to “B-A-B-Y” by Rachel Sweet. She has a powerhouse voice that you either find thrilling or its like fingers on a blackboard for you. I’m more in the former camp, though Sweet certainly missed her calling as the leader of a 60s girl group by simply having been born too late (1962).

Today, she’s a successful TV writer and producer, but back then she was Stiff’s jailbait ingenue, a veteran child star who was 16 in 1978, switching from singing country to rock music and releasing her first album, Fool Around, that same year. It’s a well-regarded album that has aged well (the musicians on it would later form the band The Records), but only the single showcased here did terribly well.

By 1982 her career as a solo artist was over, with only four original albums and a live record. That said, she later wrote and sang several songs for John Waters’ films Hairspray and Cry-Baby.

For the halfway mark on this disc, we return to the ever-reliable Lene Lovich and her first and arguably biggest hit, 1978/9’s “Lucky Number,” which managed to get substantial video play on the nascent MTV. It went Top 10 in most countries in Europe and the UK where it was released.

The Members were a group that I personally judged never quite good enough to actively collect, but that said I like what I hear from them. “Solitary Confinement” is a very witty song about how “great” it is to get out of your parents’ house and live on your own for the first time.

Or, as they put it: “You are living in the suburbs/And you have problems with your parents/So you move on up to London town/Where you think everything’s happening, going down/Living in a bedsit/Travelling on a tube train/Working all day long/And you know no one/So you don’t go out/And you eat out of tins/And you watch television/Solitary confinement.” Missle hits its target, dunnit?

This live version really captures how meaningful this song was to so many at the time.

Next up is “Frozen Years” by The Rumour (minus Graham Parker). Not everyone remembers that The Rumour put out three albums on their own. This song is a lightweight and pleasant synth-driven number with clever lyrics, sung by Brinsley Schwartz himself (though you’d be forgiven if you thought it was a very low-key Nick Lowe).

Then we’re back to Wreckless Eric with “Take the Cash.” Sound, practical advice regarding the handling of money and job protocols from our Mr. Eric. He embodies the “three chords and enthusiasm” ethic that embodied a number of Stiff acts, but as with “Semaphone Signals” it’s a very amusing but incredibly basic idea, and again he stretches it to within an inch of its life at 3’44”. If he’d get in and out much more quickly, I’d think him a comedic genius.

Following this is one of the absolute gems of the Stiff lineup with an absolute jewel of a song: Kirsty MacColl, the daughter of the revered folk singer and composer Ewan, absolutely nails her debut with the exquisitely gorgeous “They Don’t Know,” the story of a teenager who has found their true love on a level that their parents and others would just never understand.

The 50s styling, multi-tracked choral backup (learned from intently listening to Beach Boys albums), and the puncturing “BAY-bee” that climaxes the instrumental break are spot-on perfect, and the blend of pre-rock ballad style and nascent 80s instrumentation effortlessly show off both her talent and her musical lineage in three perfect minutes flat.

She and Stiff head Dave Robinson didn’t get on very well at the time, however, so he buried the 1979 single, and she wasn’t able to release her own album until 1985 (!). I’ve been a fan of hers since I first heard this in ’79, and was delighted when Tracey Ullman brought it to a wider audience in 1983, making it the hit it always should have been (Tracey herself became a Stiff artist, and appears later in this comp).

Robinson may have had some regrets about how he treated MacColl later on, or maybe he just finally understood how brilliant she actually was, so thankfully she gets two songs on this box set: we’ll get to the other one when we come to Disc Four.

Mickey Jupp was pushing 40 by the time he recorded for Stiff, having done the music scene in the 60s before leaving it. When “pub rock” became a thing in the UK, he happily signed back up for another hitch, and “You’ll Never Get Me Up in One of Those” is a good example of the good-time but rough-n-ready pub sound that dominates the first side of his album Juppanese (the second half is quite different — a trick more artists should employ).

The A-side was produced by Nick Lowe and features an uncredited Rockpile as the backing band, and sounds like it. The B-side of the album was produced by Procol Harum’s Gary Brooker, and is considerably more polished. After seven more solo albums, he took another break from music — but returned to recording in 2009 and most recently released new music in 2022 at age 78.

Rachel Sweet returns for “Who Does Lisa Like?” a nicely angular single that reinforces her under-age image with a song about high-school gossip. The album, titled Fool Around, gave her two popular singles: “B-A-B-Y” and “Stranger in the House,” the latter of which led her to masterfully cover a number of other classic pop and country songs.

“Drive Friendly” is the next song by a band called Motor Boys Motor. It’s a pretty terrible song about a killer car, and thankfully they do not appear again on this compilation — but hey, it might possibly have inspired Stephen King to write “Christine,” so maybe it has some value after all.

After their one 1982 album, the band reformulated itself and became the Screaming Blue Messiahs, another band I don’t care for.

We then get introduced to Lew Lewis Reformer, another pub-rocker but with a certain … something that makes me like him better than Mickey Jupp or Wreckless Eric. I think he manages to communicate his enthusiasm for the genre better than the others, and has a clearer, somewhat higher tone that stands out better from the instruments.

We move along to Theatre of Hate and their fifth single, “The Hop.” The band members had all been in punk bands earlier, but ToH carved out a sort of “art-punk” that didn’t fit easily into other labels, and indeed exemplified the genre by not fitting into any other existing label at the time, going away from the direction of New Wave right from their first single (“Original Sin” b/w “Legion”) in 1980.

I got and liked their first couple of albums (the live He Who Dares Wins and their first studio album, Westworld), but they didn’t appear to do anything else original beyond that for quite a while so I stopped paying attention. I’ll have to catch up on their 90s output, but after that spurt of activity they went kind of quiet again until 2016, so I have some homework to do on their later evolutions.

And the award for the band with the very best introductory single ever (at least in my view) may well go to … Madness’ “One Step Beyond,” the next track here. The heavy reverb’d voice and Camden Town accent (a place I know well), the playful video, and — for a lot of white boys — the introduction to a form of the Jamacian ska sound just hits us white kids like a tonne of very danceable bricks.

It’s one of those occasional songs that pretty much picks you up by your lapels and makes you move. Even better, it’s utterly timeless and joyful with every play. One of the best tracks on this disc, maybe even this whole compilation (which manages quite a few classics within its 96 offerings).

While we are catching our breath in recovery from the heavy heavy monster sound, The Rumour are here with what I think is their best single, “Emotional Traffic.” On paper, it’s a catchy song about avoiding extreme emotions. On record, it borrows from both traditional pop and nascent New Wave to give us something that’s not quite either one, but very pleasant indeed.

We’re on to the third Ian Dury number on this disc, and by this point you know it’s more of the similar. He’s wonderful at varying up the subject matter of his songs, but not very good at varying up his delivery, or the music. This is quite acceptable when you’re delivering singles, but has always been a point of annoyance for me with his albums.

Lew Lewis Reformer comes back to close out the disc with another slab of his well-produced, well-sung and perfectly-performed good-time rockers, “Lucky Seven.” It’s nothing innovative at all, but so well-done you don’t mind, and might even sing along with the rest of the pub regulars.

THE WRAP-UP

As always, these scores are simply my opinion. Your mileage may vary!

Great songs: 10
Good songs: 8
Meh songs: 7

Overall score: 7 out of 10

25 songs in an hour and 17 minutes continues to be value for money, and carries on representing the great, good, and “save it for the b-side” personality of this eclectic record label. Let’s hope the next two discs, moving into the later days of the label, can keep up their strong average.

Next time … Disc 3!

Posted on by chasinvictoria

The Stiff Records Box Set (Disc 1)

Stiff Records, 1992
4CD box set + booklet

THE PROLOGUE

For fans of the various artists and general aesthetic of Dave Robinson’s rebel record label Stiff, this is a holy grail relic. A grab-bag of often-great and mostly-good songs, known and obscure artists, a Whitman’s Sampler of the heart and soul of what the label put out in its heyday, and a sonic manifesto of what it was trying to accomplish.

All these years later, it can be definitively said that Dave Robinson and Jake Riveria, the co-founders of Stiff, had a good ear for talent, style, and strong songwriting. The original plan was to call the label Demon Records (a name Jake later “stole” and became very successful with, now known as DMG), but the label’s motto of “It’s a Stiff!” and catalog of BUY (number) was too funny to let go of, so the label was christened as Stiff Records.

What’s even more impressive (and proof of Robinson’s musical sensibilities) is that so many of the artists found here at the beginning of their careers went on to bigger and better. Even the also-rans generally left us with decent and sometimes quite memorable tracks. This box set has a higher ratio of classics-to-crap than nearly any compilation I own.

Happily, this artifact of a time and place in UK music history is still easily obtainable, occasionally even in mint condition for far less than its original selling price. I’ve owned two copies of it so far; the first is probably still stored in a Florida storage unit, but it might have been stolen as part of a break-in to my car that occurred in the mid-90s (I was a radio DJ back then, and trasported a huge and heavy sack of my CDs back and forth to the station for my show in those days).

I bought my second copy of the box set shortly after moving to Canada in 2007. The weak point of this box set is its well-built but cardboard-based outer shell, which has deteriorated over time. Even though the CDs inside are as pristine in their plastic cases as they ever were, I may buy a third copy while I still have this one that I will never open, such a holy relic it is to me (and cheap these days on the resale market).

Rarely has their been a label that could put out such a luxurious and properly-varied sample of its output (most just box up their biggest hits yet again), but Stiff was always very different to most labels, and this box proves it.

THE MUSIC

There are simply too many songs spread across these four discs to do much more than comment briefly on standouts or misfires without turning this into a book on its own (saaayyy …), but I encourage anyone reading this who doesn’t have a copy to get one while it’s easy and cheap to do so. You’ll never find a more varied and eclectic collection of mostly-quality rock music that captured an important time and place – the UK in the late 70s and early 80s – in music history.

The first track of the box set is, appropriately, the first single Stiff issued, catalog BUY 1: former Brinsley Schwartz’s frontman Nick Lowe with “So It Goes,” his first solo effort which kicks off with bold guitar, bass, and drums to remind the listener that nothing beats basic four-piece rock n roll. It’s a quick (2’32”) midtempo rocker with some of Nick’s best storytelling lyrics.

The first verse tells the story of “a kid who cut off his right arm/In a bid to save a bit of power/He got 50 thousand watts/In a big acoustic tower,” while the second verse muses about diplomacy: “Now up jumped the U.S. representative/He’s the one with the tired eyes/747 put him in that condition/Flyin’ back from a peace keepin’ mission.” Despite each verse having nothing to do with the previous, this series of observations rocks along in Nick’s friendly, country-tinged pop-rock style that he’s made a good career out of.

As befits Stiff’s first signee, the B-side for that single is the next track on the CD, the equally appealing but even more rockin’ “Heart of the City.” Not his most substantial song, but a good little story-song of a young runaway looking for a new life in the … well you can guess where. It’s even shorter, at two minutes six seconds.

Pink Fairies, on the other hand, offer the unmemorable and muddily-mixed “Between the Lines.” Perfunctory pub rock with indistinct vocals, but you gotta admire a band choosing a name like “Pink Fairies” in the mid 70s — that took balls.

Roogalator’s “Cincinatti Fatback” showed off the band’s angular funk style that had made them unique on the pub-rock circuit. Curiously, the track chosen is actually the b-side of their one-off single with Stiff, the a-side being “All Aboard,” which brings a semi-country swing to their funk style (but isn’t on this compilation).

Speaking of angular, “Stryofoam” by Tyla Gang is a very odd duck of a song — so weird you kinda like it, but definitely not material that would ever make any label any money, which is why you’ve never heard of them. That Stiff would even give them a shot is a testament to how wide-open the early days of the label were.

Then we come to what most experts agree is the actual first “punk rock” single ever, The Damned’s “New Rose,” released on 22-October 1976. The contempt in Dave Vanian’s spoken-word intro “is she really going out with him?” dripped with contempt for how beholden mainstream rock music continued to be to the 1950s, and “New Rose” proceeded to destroy rock music as it had been at that point without resorting to heavy metal — a revolutionary trick that inspired many other bands.

This is followed by what was for a period the “anthem” of punk rock, “Blank Generation” by Richard Hell and the Voivoids (also the title track of his debut album). Not many will know that the song is actually a rewrite of a Bob McFadden & Rod McKuen song, “The Beat Generation,” which came out in 1959.

It is said that Hell’s rewrite later inspired “Pretty Vacant” by the Sex Pistols, and it is unsurprising to learn that Hell’s vocal style gave a young John Lydon the inspiration to become a band frontman. What I’d give for a duet with those two.

The Damned return with more pure punk, the machine-gun chorus and primitive lyrics of the one minute long “Stab Your Back.” There’s a hell of a lot of songs that should be limited to just the time it takes to get the message and melody marriage across, and this is one of them (but not the only under-two-minute song on this disc).

The now-legend that is Elvis Costello enters the fray with the simmering “Less Than Zero.” A very political song that mentions a swastika tattoo in its first line, it was interpreted at the time as a (rightful) condemnation of the Nazi-like National Front party in the UK, but Costello now prefers to interpret the song as generally about the degradation of morals and behaviour in society everywhere. The song sadly continues to be relevant.

Next up is “England’s Glory” by Max Wall, a delightful comedic piano-led sendup of the British establishment in the 1970s (and beyond), from the monarchy on down. It reminds me of Benny Hill’s musical moments, and features lots of sarcastic references to distinctly British personalities and things.

An angelic chorus starts off “Maybe,” a fantastic and authentic 50s-style wailer of a broken heart love ballad sung by Jill Read, first recorded by The Chantels (and later covered rather poorly by the Shangri-Las). It features her impossibly high-note wailing (I mean this in complimentary sense — this is a really tough song to sing in its original key!) that perfectly mirrors and improves on The Chantels’ version, and skates right along the line of tribute — or is it parody? — without changing a note or word of the original.

“One Chord Wonders” is a nice group effort and debut single by The Adverts, and features a whimsical self-deprecating lyric about how poorly they play. They were touring as the Damned’s opening act, and the tagline for the bill was “The Damned now know three chords, The Adverts know one, come and hear all four!”

This is followed by the first honest-to-god ballad, Mr. Costello’s moving and gorgeous “Alison,” a still-great ballad of lost love with a line that became the title of his debut album. Despite his unusual voice and punk-accountant visual image, his brilliance as a songwriter and particularly a versatile lyricist was already evident just on these two singles.

Dave Edmunds was in a band called Rockpile with Nick Lowe starting in 1976, but was already known as a “wall of sound” type producer in the mould of Phil Spector as he was a blazing guitarist. Because of differing label contracts, they couldn’t officially record together under that name until 1980, but each contributed to the other’s 1979 “solo” albums. Here, Edmunds gives an underwhelming vocal performance but (sure enough) a wall of guitar sounds with “Jo Jo Gunne,” a Chuck Berry original. The original version is, frankly, much better.

Up next, the slow strumming and twee English accent (and humour) of Wreckless Eric’s “Whole Wide World,” which is an underappreciated minor masterpiece. The song is about a man whose mother says there’s only one woman for him, and she’s not around here — sparking a worldwide search for her. It’s rough, it’s cheesy, it’s great.

The next track starts off with a spoken word parody of The Damned’s opening line in “New Rose,” Stiff’s most openly comedic signing — Alberto Y Los Trios Paranoias — faithfully deliver a brilliant parody of the Damned and most contemporary punk bands with “Kill,” the vocal performance of which is the entire basis of Ade Edmondson’s later, brilliant “The Young Ones” punk character Vivian.

It also uses the word “fucking” for the first time in a punk song (I think), and also breaks ground by being the first song to finish with guitar feedback (again, as far as I know).

This is followed by a different sort of classic, “Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll,” the debut single of Ian Dury & The Blockheads. Everything about Ian Dury’s career is seemingly impossible, and yet he (with the help of musical genius Chas Jankel) had a brilliant career that was never a novelty act, despite his crippling polio, and despite being a very funny and dark-humoured lyricist.

We then get the B-side of Dury’s single, “Razzle in My Pocket,” a little story-song no doubt based on a true incident from Dury’s youth, where he would shoplift porno mags he was too young or broke to buy.

Coming next to the stylish and Wurlitzer-centric “Suffice to Say” by the Yachts, a genuinely witty and catchy little love song. Maybe the first song to warn listeners in the lyric itself that an instrumental break is coming up (other musical jokes are littered throughout). It took me ages to finally pick up a CD from this band, but their self-deprecating style and charm won me over the first time I ever heard this (which was probably from the original copy of this very box set).

Mick Farren and his single “Let’s Loot the Supermarket Like We Did Last Summer” was a one-shot for Stiff, but Farren was actually in a proto-punk band in the 1960s and thus his amusing single and vocal performance should be interpreted as a parody of punk — taking the piss out of taking the piss, if you will.

He ended up being better known as a novelist than musician, but collaborated with the Pink Fairies as well as Lemmy from Motorhead. His own band, the Deviants, recorded in the 70s and then reformed in the late 90s, and continued until his death on stage with them in 2013.

The next track is a stone-cold New Wave classic, Elvis Costello’s “Watching the Detectives.” The lyrics on this are brilliant from start to finish, a take on detective stories and murder mysteries. It’s a slow-burn, bass-driven potboiler that features a stunning stream-of-consciousness style vocal delivery. Probably Elvis’ best song until he formed The Attractions.

Ian Dury returns with another slice-of-life biography, “My Old Man.” As you can guess, it’s a musical biography of Dury’s father, and saying much more about it would spoil it. It’s a thoughtful and low-tempo portrait of a man Dury didn’t really have in his life growing up, and only met again as an adult.

Next up is Larry Wallis with “Police Car,” showing off his status as the most talented (but short-term) member of the Pink Fairies. He was also an early member of Motorhead, but settled into a role as an in-house producer for Stiff, and this was the first of only two solo singles he ever made.

Jane Aire and the Belvederes, here represented with “Yankee Wheels,” also had very limited success, and “Yankee Wheels” starts off on a minor key and never manages to rise above it. The actual musicians accompanying Jane’s double-tracked vocals were also later to be put to better use as Kirsty MacColl’s band.

Trivia: the drummer on this was Jon Moss, later of Culture Club, and the guitarist was Lu Edwards, who worked with a lot of good bands. This single is, like the rest of Jane Aire’s output I have heard, uneven enough that it never warranted further investigation.

The finale for the disc is an early single by Graham Parker, “Back to Schooldays.” It’s poorly mixed in my view, with Graham not yet front and center the way he would be later, but already capable of a strong vocal performance. This particular song reminds me of the sort of warped-50s style that Richard O’Brien of Rocky Horror fame would have put out if he’d had a solo career.

THE WRAP-UP

Great songs: 10
Good songs: 9
Meh songs: 6

Overall score: 7.5 out of 10

25 songs in an hour and 17 minutes is certainly value for money, and on the whole this first disc is pretty good — after all, not everything can be a hit (and some of these are b-sides by design, of course).

Next time: Disc 2!

Posted on by chasinvictoria

Lene Lovich — Toy Box: The Stiff Years 1978-1983 (Disc 3)

Flex plus bonus tracks, and New Toy mini-LP

THE OVERVIEW

Lene’s second album is, in my view, just about as delightful as her first — more strong songs, even more great singing, and more of the great sound and mainstream-friendly yet angular pop music that charmed the listener with the last album. There’s still nothing quite like the formidable combination of Lene and Les and their original band lineup of Nick Plytas, Jeff Smith, Ron François, and Bobby Irwin.

There’s also little bit of further growth in the songwriting, performance and art direction, continuing to define goth before it was cool. Throw in another batch of similarly great tunes, even more professionally produced, and a smattering of big-time commercial success (more on that shortly), and you basically have the perfect sequel record.

THE ALBUM

Flex opens with a low-end sonic hum you could easily imagine Kraftwerk employing on one of their earlier albums, with just a hint of actual birdsong before Lene brings in her incredible birdsong call before launching into the song (called, of course, “Bird Song”) proper for the first verse. This is followed by the signature male chorus’ sonic wall over the lyrics of a spurned lover, and lovely “organ” to add to the Goth atmosphere. “Bird Song” would have been right at home on the first album, and closes with more of her incredible bird vocal.

One thing you notice immediately is the improved sound and more sophisticated production, which I’ll credit to Roger Bechirian and Alan Winstanley, both of whom were names frequently seen on many great New Wave records of the era, especially on Stiff and Sire. The pair really “get” what makes Lene and the band great, and plays up their strengths for maximum possible radio- and headphone-friendliness.

“What Will I Do Without You” continues the heroine-as-victim motif, this time, worrying what might happen if her love ever left her. The song replaces the organ with some piano and more of Lene doing more of her own bv’s, but that Slavic-style male chorus is still present. This is another contribution by Chris Judge Smith, and it has “single” written all over it. It really focuses on Lene’s performance, and throws in some strangely underrated (synth) horns here and there that probably should have been played up a bit more.

The first hit single for this album was “Angels,” and it keeps that Goth-y Eastern European vibe going but not focused on a specific lost love and yet still fixated on potential death. This of course contrasts with the uptempo, upbeat and generally danceable groove. This is where the band starts to branch out (a little, and I mean just a little). The contrast between Lene’s swooping vocals and softer, more vulnerable verse singing is quite seductive and effective.

“The Night” was a cover from other songwriters and a sleeper hit for Lene, not really coming into its full appreciation until years after release, with some help from a Marc Almond cover of the song, which refocused some attention on the original. There is also “US mix” of “The Night,” but we’ll come back to that later as it is included here as a bonus track. This one features a really great, short chorus that contrasts so well with the dark and eerie mood of the verses and sub-chorus.

In the hands of any other artist, the first four songs being about a love falling apart would have been repetitive. Lene manages to find different viewpoints to cover such similar topics, and with Les carefully giving each song a different feel with the same players really pays off. This one has some bells and sax to throw into the band’s bass-leading, synth-augmented sound.

That said, the fatalistic theme does start to wear a little on the fifth song, “You Can’t Kill Me,” again by Judge Smith, but it is buoyed by some funny lyrics and a more novel arrangement. The vocals and bv’s are really front and center on this one, and it also has a little nod to Japan — a second gesture to that country after the Japanese version of “I Think We’re Alone Now.”

The mortality subtext doesn’t let up on “Egghead,” with its very sing-song style, but the enthusiasm of the vocal style and upbeat music, as with many of the songs we’ve heard thus far, keep the listener entertained and holding despondency at bay.

Finally, on track 7, “Wonderful One” breaks the mold and finds Lene in a happy mood, sort of. This one features a more jaunty riffs, nice organ fills, and more birdsong-like Lene bv’s. It’s a close as Lene gets to a straightforward love song.

“Monkey Talk” follows in its official recorded version, which the live takes elsewhere in the box set follow closely. I’m still not sure what the song is actually about, except that she seems to be comparing mankind and monkeykind as closer cousins than even the Leakeys would have it. There’s plenty of “monkey chittering” from Lene, and a great Soviet-style “worker’s playtime” chorus.

This takes us to “Joan,” which keeps up the relentlessly catchy dance-tempo music even as Lene sings of the obsession and sacrifice of the historical subject of the song. “Like Joan of Arc, you must be brave/and listen to your heart/Imagination is essential to creative art” is a great twist on persuing your vision at all costs, though of course it didn’t pan out so well for Ms. d’Arc …

The album closes with “The Freeze,” which uses a sonic moonscape, and rather different two-tracked vocals from Lene in what is the spookiest and slowest song on the album. My joke about this when the album originally came out was that this could easily be the Soviet Union’s national anthem.

That said, if you’re old enough to remember the Soviet Union — and the threat of nuclear war that hung over the world in the closing decades of the last century (and now trying to stage a comeback …), you’ll get the vibe the band was going for on this one.

BONUS TRACKS — FLEX

“The Night (US mix)” — in addition to a slightly different mix, the record company (or someone) added ska horns to the sub-chorus, which works well.

“What Will I Do Without You (single version)” — the name implies that this is just a different mix of the album version. It’s not — it’s the demo (generally referred by this box set as the “original version,” but not in this case). Among the many differences is Lene’s singing (a half-octave lower!), very restrained bv’s, more reliance on synth, bass and drums, and generally a far more basic version.

“Bird Song (edit)” — by contrast, this single version of “Bird Song” is identical to the album track except it’s 30 seconds shorter. They cut the vocal birdsong intro and went straight into the song proper. It also fades out quicker then the album version, but keeps some of Lene’s haunting angry birdsong at the end.

“Details (Original Version)” — Having these demos scattered around the set is interesting, since they are usually located close to the finished versions, but two things come across very well in these cruder, less polished version: that Lene is an incredible vocal talent even without much in the way of polished production, and that Les and her bandmates can put together extremely good demos that communicate the design of the song very well. I love their use of occasional bits of stopping cold as a musical punctuation mark.

As for the song itself, its a jaunty number that misses out (in this version) on the trademark Slavic male supporting vocals. It features a dreamy lyric where Lene laments her fate and demands the “details” of the plan for her life.

“New Toy” — this was another song, this time from new (but sadly temporary) band member Thomas Dolby that was a popular (irresistible more like) single on original release, and the extended version we’ll get to in a minute was a solid club hit, and once again found a second life later when US retailer Target licensed it for a massive ad campaign and millions of people said “What is that song and how can I get a copy?!”.

This one is solid gold from the first note, focusing on a mostly-straightforward but perfectly-put vocal from Lene and incredibly solid bv’s from the boys (though less Slavic in style) and music from the band, including more excellent piano and synth work brought more to the fore by Dolby, who had joined up with the band for a brief time.

Flawlessly mimed version for UK TV (with Dolby on keyboards)

“Cats Away” — another energetic instrumental, but this time with some snazzy (synth) horn sounds to jazz it up.

“New Toy (Extended Version)” — The intro, first verse and chorus (sans vocal) serve as the “extension” before the vocals get underway. Thankfully they kept the saucy sound effects of the first lines (Les’ purr, and the whip sounds). The middle-eight gets and “breakdown” type selection of isolated instruments and bv’s are added before Dolby’s keys come back into play. An even longer version of the first and best song about conspicuous consumption and consumer capitalism run amok

NEW TOY (US MINI LP)

It’s quite peculiar that for this box set, the New Toy “Mini-LP” as they call it took the title track and put it among the Flex bonus tracks, leaving us without the title track to this EP here, where it belongs. Instead, we only get the second side of the original record, and slightly out of order to boot.

“Cats Away” — a gentler intro that ramps up to speed real quick and a punchier sound with real horns (played by Lene!), it’s still a heckuva swinging number, but an instrumental is a strange choice for the first track on this altered version of the US “mini-LP,” which Stiff/Epic issued to play for time while Les and Lene took a rest (losing the band in the process, regrettably). Lene writes in the booklet that they felt under pressure from Stiff, like some of the other artists, to come up with more “hit singles.” Lene says that they then did a lot of short sessions with different producers.

The lack of a regular band did result in Lene’s work getting some fresh new sounds, but sadly a lot of eclectism that characterized her previous work was reduced, though of course you can’t eliminate it entirely.

“Details” — The polished version of “Details” gets a glow-up from the demo, and makes for a nice change of subject matter. This is a far more polished production as you might expect, but still sticks pretty close to the original.

Boring video, but you get the song as it appeared on the EP

“Never Never Land” — a song from Jimmie O’Neill, but certainly Lene makes it her own (as she generally does with all her covers). It’s a lovely song, not single material but a well-chosen addition that also features stronger vocal contributions from Les.

Because the final two tracks of the five-track “New Toy (US mini-LP)” were just demos that got revamped later on, only the three songs from Side Two of the record were included on this disc, with the two “Side One” tracks saved for accompanying Disc 4, the No Man’s Land album, as bonus tracks.

Next time: The Wrap Up, and the breakdown of the Stiff relationship

Posted on by chasinvictoria

Lene Lovich – Toy Box: The Stiff Years 1978-1983 (Discs 1 & 2, part 1)

Stateless, US & UK versions compared

THE OVERVIEW

Toy Box: The Stiff Years is a four-CD box set covering everything (or nearly so) Lene and her band recorded for Stiff Records, which amounts to three albums, two “mini-LPs,” and some odds and sods, all of which have been gathered up together. For me, who has collected Lene faithfully for decades (and once did a lovely interview with her and Les in Atlanta), there’s not a lot here I hadn’t already heard or own, except for one pretty significant thing (which we’ll get to shortly).

From her 70s and 80s peak years, most everything is here apart from the brilliant 1989 album March, but of course it wouldn’t be — it didn’t come out on Stiff. Each of the albums are supplanted with bonus tracks, including a lot of “early versions” (home studio demos), instrumental versions, variations, remixes, live versions, and promo or b-side type stuff.

As with these sorts of “everything boxes,” as I like to call them, it’s really great having this all in one place (super handy when storage is tight, eh, fellow collectors?), and while I’m sure there’s a few oddities missing — for example I have the full Lene “Interview Disc” on vinyl where the DJ would ask questions and “Lene” (on the included record) would respond — but this is as complete a catalog of the Stiff music from her as we’re likely to get. Plus, it’s Cherry Red — there’s a fabulous booklet that includes Lene’s own memories and comments, plus some supplemental information from Scott Davies (of Rubellan Remasters, who handled the audio remastering for this project) and Michael Robson (who sheparded the project and designed the booklet and box).

One last thing before we dive in: It wasn’t originally my intention to do another artist who rose to full prominance in 1979 this soon, I had actually picked out another quite different artist boxset to do; but I was joking to some friends one day last month that it would be ironic if I covered three of Lene’s four 70s/80s albums in … wait for it … March, and so here we are.

STATELESS — BACKGROUND

A two-CD version of Lene’s debut album, you ask? How can this be, even with bonus tracks? The original album was barely longer than 30 minutes! This is the “pretty significant thing” I alluded to earlier — both the US and UK versions of Stateless are present here, and as I’m embarrassed to admit (having owned a vinyl UK copy of the album for decades but never actually listened to it because I also had the US version) — I was unaware of just how different the two versions were/are until now. So, for me at least, there’s a brand-new record in here.

Consequently, this calls for a side-by-side comparison of each album track. We’ll also review the non-album bonus tracks — all 21 of them! — and pick out the gems.

The short story on the two versions is that after the record originally came out in the UK (with the pre-release hit single of “I Think We’re Alone Now”) in October of ’78, the US label felt it needed some further cooking, and had Roger Bechirian (well known among New Wave et al album collectors) remix and re-record some parts for the US release, which made “Lucky Number” a minor hit in the States as well.

The US version used a different — and frankly better — cover shot as well, though I like the way Lene (in the booklet) refers to the UK cover as “like ‘The Scream’ by Edvard Munch.” When the album was re-issued in the UK in ’79, some (but not all) of the Bechirian versions were included, so getting to hear the original mix is a treat.

The Bechirian version of most of the songs was then used for the subsequent rest of world versions, which along with the US version came out in April of ’79. The full story on this is a bit more complicated (variations on how many Bechirian remixes were used on different countries’ album version, plus a couple of mis-stamped pressings), but to consolidate matters Cherry Red has Disc 1 as the original LP mix (only a little Bechirian) and Disc 2 as the “US/UK remix” version (tracks 1-8 and 11 were “Bechirian’d”). For the bonus tracks it is not spelled out, but our Roger is also credited with production as well as backing vocals (for “Trixi,” meaning that song was likely created during the re-record sessions).

The album did pretty well: while it didn’t chart in the US, it went Silver in the UK (250,000 sold) and did well all over Europe, Australia, and New Zealand. The first single, a remake of Tommy James and the Shondells’ “I Think We’re Alone Now,” reached #3 in the UK. It had the “early version” of “Lucky Number” as the b-side.

The subsequent single, the revamped “Lucky Number,” went to #2 in Australia and #3 in New Zealand, and also charted elsewhere. In the US, the song was a sleeper success, never hitting the Top 40 but it was an early video and club hit.

Before we get to the UK vs US compare, I do want to mention my general feelings for this album: obviously I liked it at the time, but this revisit has reminded me of how much I adore this record. It’s a rare album where 100 percent of the songs are strong, polished, and timelessly enjoyable, and of course Les and Lene’s talents mesh so beautifully here that the whole thing — UK or US version — is just a joy. It’s one of the very best albums Stiff ever put out, and was by no means a one-shot wonder.

STATELESS — SONGS SIDE-BY-SIDE

These will be comparisons of the “UK original” and “US/remixed” versions of each song, acknowledging that having an experienced engineer remix/redo some stuff is bound to sound better a lot of the time. We’ll use the original UK running order for the album.

Lucky Number
Winner: US/remixed
Bechirian knows what he’s doing when it comes to mixing: this has a brighter tone and a more swinging tempo; beefier drum fills; more manly background vocals; a slightly more “quirky” lead vocal, and the brilliant addition of the monk-like “number” chant for the outro.

A slightly different, live (?) version from Top O’ the Pops

Sleeping Beauty
Winner: US/remixed
The US version has a new vocal (this will be a theme in many of the US/remix wins), but the UK original is clearer and more natural — Lene doesn’t fight the instruments to be heard as much. That said, the US version is better mixed throughout, and adds more bv’s and stronger bell sounds. It also has a new guitar solo, and the song cuts to the ending much quicker, losing 30 seconds of repetitive vamping from the original version, which gives it the win.

Home
Winner: UK original
Some may disagree, but I think the UK original mix retains more of that surfer/psychedelic feel. This seems like the first song were Lene’s vocal wasn’t re-recorded in the US version, but then again, the US mix adds some new guitar twang and louder FX during the middle eight.

Lip synced version from Dutch TV

Too Tender (to Touch)
Winner: UK original
The US version features the bells much more prominently, which is an improvement on the UK version, but oddly tries to bury Lene’s vocal under a significantly louder piano (excellent work by Don Snow) and some organ bits. Again, it’s the same vocal on both versions, but Lene never really comes to the fore in the US version until the bridge, and even then a new and different piano solo gets thrown in for no clear reason.

Say When
Winner: US/remixed
Conversely, on this one it’s not even close: Bechirian’s significantly re-mixed and re-recorded version is just vastly superior. It’s a fun song either way, but Lene’s terrific new vocal contrasted with more male bv humming, and a far more prominent organ, some nicely-placed reverb and other touches just make this one the definitive version (plus an extra count-up!).

Lip synced for Dutch TV

Tonight
Winner: tie
Nick Lowe’s “Tonight” gets a really nice 1950s treatment in both versions, but each one drops the ball in one way or another. The UK version puts Lene front and center vocally throughout, as it should, but it criminally dwells on the sax (which is very good, don’t get me wrong) at the expense of not bringing in the crucial supporting background “echo” bv’s until the song is more than half over. While the US version corrects that mistake, Bechirian piles on all the instruments too much, frequently drowning out Lene’s climatic vocals in the choruses.

Writing on the Wall
Winner: US/remixed
Another 50’s influenced number, this time the tragic story-song that skirts doo-wop territory at times. The US version brings in sax, better mixing for the organ, and adds more male bv’s to give the song more atmosphere.

Telepathy
Winner: US/remixed
A very funny song, which backs off the 50s influence somewhat but still has an echo of it. Once again, the US version brings in the background vocals right away and keeps them around throughout, and Lene’s re-recorded vocal actually improves on the UK original. The better mixing and more vocal power wins the day.

Momentary Breakdown
Winner: UK original
We’ve now moved firmly (with “Telepathy” and now this one) into early 60’s (fake) girl group sound. This time it’s the UK version that gives the “girls” plenty of spotlight, and Lene’s incredible, four-octave finale is just … (chef’s kiss). The US version mostly buries the bv’s until the middle eight, but does offer better separation for the instruments, and the end of Lene’s octave stunt isn’t the end of the song this time, she just descends and starts over (briefly).

One in a 1.000.000
Winner: UK original
This song always reminds me of “Say When” in its franticness, strong vocal, and playful arrangement — you could image a chorus line of western burlesque dancers high-stepping this number at an old west saloon. The US version again puts Lene back a little in the mix (with bv’s more prominent, but to be fair they’re very good), but the two versions are by far the most similar between the two releases, with only a slight change to the sonic staging on this one.

I Think We’re Alone Now
Winner: tie
Bewilderingly, the US version on this song flips the typical script on the way it’s mixed, with the instruments nicely separated from Lene’s vocal, with the bv’s a little less prominent and her own background sounds getting some of that spotlight also. The difference between the US version and UK version is still a little subtle and for me, either one is the best version of this song I’ve ever heard.

Lip-synced performance on Spanish TV

Next time: Discs 1 & 2 bonus tracks!