Your Inner Fish
Jan. 20th, 2008 12:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
peterbirksThe Sunday Times had a review today of "Your Inner Fish". by Neil Shubin. Aha, I thought, another psychobabble book on poker. But, apparently not. It's about evolution. A pity, because it's a better title for a poker book.
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The strengths and weaknesses of the format of "Pop On Trial" came to the fore with the latest edition -- "The 1970s". The plusses were: Stuart Maconie, who is a lot better than you might think from the evidence of his rent-a-comment contributions to Channel Four's "The 100 best non-networked US programmes ever", or whatever it is that the channel is using to fill up its schedules this week; and Pete Shelley, ex of The Buzzcocks. The minuses were that the series is glued to decades. With music, decades just aren't the right system of categorization. And nowhere is this more in evidence than in the 1970s, which could just about be split neatly in two -- pre-Sex Pistols and post Sex Pistols.
The entire programme managed to ignore Tubular Bells (although Pink Floyd did get a passing mention). When you realize that Tubular Bells was fucking EVERYWHERE in 1974, you can see how much of the coverage uses the benefit of hindsight (or licence to broadcast -- perhaps Mike Oldfield simply said "no").
Notwithstanding that, it threw up some interesting snippets. First, play David Cassidy's "Daydreamer" (I'm sure that you have it in your collection). Remind you of anyone? Yep, this is Wham!, nine years ahead of its time.
Secondly, I was pleased to be reminded of Baccara, whose existence had been wiped from my memory. Who can forget "Yes Sir, I Can Boogie"? The wonder of the web informs me that this pair were Spanish ex-flamenco dancers. Marvellous.
This was the era of the manufactured disco song (perhaps evidence of the simplicity of the disco sound -- any half-arsed studio engineer could have a go) and indeed of the "Summer Hit". This was the time when the great unwashed went not to Orlando but to Majorca or Torremolinos (although the real plebs headed for the Costa Brava in those days -- Ibiza was "upmarket"). All the hotels had three things as a rule -- a jukebox on which one song would be played 15 times more often than all the others combined (I recall in 1973 that it was "Sylvia's Mother"), a disco that featured some manufactured disco-pop number, and a live band who played excrutiatingly blandisized versions of pop classics such as, well, Yes Sir, I Can Boogie.
Now, what do you reckon were the best selling singles of that decade in the UK? Abba perhaps? Bohemian Rhapsody? Imagine? Bridge Over Troubled Water? Perhaps a one-hit wonder like Freda Payne's immaculate Band of Gold? Or The Jackson Five? The Osmonds? The Bay City Rollers, even?
Nope. All wrong. Two of the top five were from the film Grease, one was the execrable Mull Of Kintyre (beaten only into irredeemable badness by "Sailing") and two were by Boney M.
Yup, a class decade indeed; and evidence, if evidence be needed, that the popular vote should never, ever, be heeded.
++++++
The strengths and weaknesses of the format of "Pop On Trial" came to the fore with the latest edition -- "The 1970s". The plusses were: Stuart Maconie, who is a lot better than you might think from the evidence of his rent-a-comment contributions to Channel Four's "The 100 best non-networked US programmes ever", or whatever it is that the channel is using to fill up its schedules this week; and Pete Shelley, ex of The Buzzcocks. The minuses were that the series is glued to decades. With music, decades just aren't the right system of categorization. And nowhere is this more in evidence than in the 1970s, which could just about be split neatly in two -- pre-Sex Pistols and post Sex Pistols.
The entire programme managed to ignore Tubular Bells (although Pink Floyd did get a passing mention). When you realize that Tubular Bells was fucking EVERYWHERE in 1974, you can see how much of the coverage uses the benefit of hindsight (or licence to broadcast -- perhaps Mike Oldfield simply said "no").
Notwithstanding that, it threw up some interesting snippets. First, play David Cassidy's "Daydreamer" (I'm sure that you have it in your collection). Remind you of anyone? Yep, this is Wham!, nine years ahead of its time.
Secondly, I was pleased to be reminded of Baccara, whose existence had been wiped from my memory. Who can forget "Yes Sir, I Can Boogie"? The wonder of the web informs me that this pair were Spanish ex-flamenco dancers. Marvellous.
This was the era of the manufactured disco song (perhaps evidence of the simplicity of the disco sound -- any half-arsed studio engineer could have a go) and indeed of the "Summer Hit". This was the time when the great unwashed went not to Orlando but to Majorca or Torremolinos (although the real plebs headed for the Costa Brava in those days -- Ibiza was "upmarket"). All the hotels had three things as a rule -- a jukebox on which one song would be played 15 times more often than all the others combined (I recall in 1973 that it was "Sylvia's Mother"), a disco that featured some manufactured disco-pop number, and a live band who played excrutiatingly blandisized versions of pop classics such as, well, Yes Sir, I Can Boogie.
Now, what do you reckon were the best selling singles of that decade in the UK? Abba perhaps? Bohemian Rhapsody? Imagine? Bridge Over Troubled Water? Perhaps a one-hit wonder like Freda Payne's immaculate Band of Gold? Or The Jackson Five? The Osmonds? The Bay City Rollers, even?
Nope. All wrong. Two of the top five were from the film Grease, one was the execrable Mull Of Kintyre (beaten only into irredeemable badness by "Sailing") and two were by Boney M.
Yup, a class decade indeed; and evidence, if evidence be needed, that the popular vote should never, ever, be heeded.
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 01:27 pm (UTC)I agree that pop music eras do not follow the decades. I would say 75 to 85 covers the inter-related punk, new wave and synth-pop era.
Not for nothing did TOGWT finish in '86. Mostly dross after '86. Whispering Bob, a fellow Northamptonian, is a sensible man. I shan't watch the 90s programme. I see no point.
To this day, and before BBC4's series, Boney M fragments continuously enter my mind.
Rah Rah Rasputin, Russia's greatest love machine...
I truly loathed the Rollers. I found Slade to be slightly sinister. How was I to know what was in store for Gary Glitter?
Wanna be in my gang?
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 01:43 pm (UTC)Not sure what you are saying re "Pop On Trial". There was a 1960s episode. It had Tony Blackburn. One of the top-ten selling singles of that decade was "Tears", by Ken Dodd. Thankfully, the top five were dominated by The Beatles. That, perhaps, indicates one big difference between the 1960s and the 1970s -- the shift from singles to albums.
PJ
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 01:48 pm (UTC)Ah...
Just looked at my DigiGuide. It's Wednesdays for even decades and Thursdays for odd decades. This Wednesday is synth-pop et al. Then 90s nonsense on Thursday.
Whatever happened to logical programming schedules?
Late reply to last thread
Date: 2008-01-20 04:42 pm (UTC)But, to be honest, he still looked like a guy who wanted to be able to find a way that life could cope with his drinking, rather than one who wanted to cope with life without drinking.
very eloquently put.I have a horrible feeling I fall into the first category.
I suppose ultimately it is like bankroll management!
Ben
Liverpool
wow
Date: 2008-01-21 02:15 am (UTC)Holy shit.
And here I was going to read a book about the 'intelligent power of crowds'.
Not now, I'm not.
Iggy
Maconie is innocent
Date: 2008-01-22 10:57 am (UTC)That's the way his mate sees it anyhow.
Lurker.
Re: Maconie is innocent
Date: 2008-01-27 02:36 pm (UTC)PJ
no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 02:34 pm (UTC)Well, of course, I remember the 1970s. And anyone who tells you that the 1970s were good in any way, shape, or form (with the exception of music from 1976 on), is talking bollocks. Indeed, the one thing that pop music gave me in the 1970s was a love for classical music. So for that, at least, I am grateful.
Everything else was unremittingly horrible. Not a good decade to grow up in.
PJ