Is there a more singable chorus in the Pet Shop Boys catalogue than that of “Suburbia”? My vote is a firm “No.” It’s the sort of melody that gets stuck in your head so that you’re stuck in the self-check registers at the grocery, murmuring “Let’s take a ride and run with the dogs tonight…”
It’s probably the earliest Pet Shop Boys I remember being stunned by - it’s pop and singable to be sure, but it’s an incredibly busy song as well. In addition to the drums (of which there’s two distinct percussion lines), bass line, piano line, synthesizers, and vocal, there’s a plethora of samples layered on top - barking dogs, machine guns, crashing cars, klaxons blaring. It’s a big-sounding record, the sort of thing that says “There may be only two of us, but we’re quite good at making a racket on our own.”
The single, released in September 1986, is a completely re-recorded version of the more-sedate track that appears on Please. “It’s a hard lyric, soft tune. That was our idea - to write disco music with un-disco lyrics,” states Tennant in the liner notes for the re-released version of the album. Inspired by Penelope Spheeris’s film of the same name, the lyrics to “Suburbia” cover a common English fictional trope: the idea that society in the burbs is actually more perverse than the city people are trying to escape. The riot taking place in the song starts from sheer boredom more than anything else, and the combination of dark lyrics and a happy melody underscores the simultaneous euphoria and despair that defined Thatcher’s England.
This idea of “disco music with un-disco lyrics” is one of those things that continues attracts me to the music of Pet Shop Boys. In America, I’m sure they’ll be forever regarded as “camp1,” but that’s not surprising - as I discussed in my overview of “Opportunities,” the Stateside pop audience doesn’t quite get it when an artist does something that requires any thought, and the collision of nihilism and dancebeats was probably more confusing than interesting to them. Evidence of this is probably in the numbers: while the song hit #8 on the UK pop charts, it only reached 70th on the Billboard Top 100th and 46 on the Dance chart.
Favorite Versions:
“Suburbia (The Full Horror)” is available on Disco and I love all nine minutes of it. It sounds more like a Frankie-era Trevor Horn production than Julian Mendelsohn, with a spoken word bit, a ton of extra dog sounds, a few extra car crashes, and about a dozen builds. The 7″ version featured here is basically that version cut down for radio play. Ahh, pop excess.
1Dan Hopper from the ordinarily-quite-entertaining BestWeekEver.tv blog recently described Discography as a bad album he liked. This ignores two facts: the first being that it’s not at all bad, especially compared to his other selections, and that it’s not an album, but a compilation. For some reason, the latter bothers me more than the former.
Rachel’s luck no better… but she at least got to meet Neil Tennant before the start of this odd open-air gig. I’ve never seen the Pet Shop Boys before but have always liked their music - the show was mind-blowing, the sound clean and as we were centre stage about twelve rows of people back positioned right slap bang in the middle of the PSB experience.
The Bruce Weber videos always follow the same pattern, but I enjoy them anyway. There’s nothing at all wrong with watching attractive people be attractive, and the way it combines one of the better Release-era songs with just enough of the too-cloying-in-full “E-mail” is very nice indeed.
To be forthright, I should note that I’ve actually had an audio rip of Cubism since the UK version of the DVD came out a few months ago. Yes, I’m that sort of fan. However, the Pet Shop Boys have consistently (with the exclusion of the dreary Release tour) provided fans with a stage show that is at the very least impressive and at its peak, simply stunning. The duo’s tour for Fundamental follows this methodology with a minimal opening that unfolds (much like the titular cube) into a full-bore pop extravaganza as the show progresses.
As I’d seen the show relatively recently, I was expecting to be a bit disappointed by the presentation. With Tennant, Lowe, three backup singers (including Sylvia Mason-James, who I adore,) and two dancers, it seems like it’d be more than difficult to manage to shrink it down to a home-theater-friendly format. However, director David Barnard does a exemplary job capturing this highly stylized show, with multiple cameras managing to record all the action in a bright, sharp picture. I was especially pleased to see that the high-key colors like Lowe’s lime-green hoodie were captured vibrantly, as those can be a bit of a bear for any photographer to nail down. The editing on this DVD is of particular note: Barnard and crew know just when to jump to the next element of the show and they manage to give Lowe his due1, unlike previous concert recordings. The sound is also remarkable, showing off the quieter parts nicely while making sure the big moments have the impact they deserve.
Unsurprisingly, the set list for this show is near-perfect, doing exactly what it was intended to do: combine the requisite hits from the band’s back catalog and newer material in a pleasing synthesis that flows well over the course of two hours or so (including intermission.) Sure, I could declare my personal tastes the rule, nitpick and say that an additional track or two from Fundamental would not have been unwelcome; “Indefinite leave to remain” or “Luna Park” could have replaced “Dreaming of the queen” quite handily. I’m still not a fan of “Numb” despite the beautiful staging for the song. Its Diane Warren-penned “wannas” make Tennant sound remarkably less intelligent than the norm.
Cubism is easily the equal of the Performance recording as far as the representation of what was on stage, and it handily bests the other recent-ish concert DVD, Montage, a visually messy, flawed mess that’s much more listenable than watchable. I’d recommended a viewing of Cubism to even the most casual fans, as it’s a well-curated hits package that looks and sounds excellent while doing a fine job of making a twenty-five year-old songwriting partnership seem more relevant than ever.
1 To be fair, it doesn’t hurt that Lowe actually appears to be playing major portions of the music instead of half-heartedly slapping chords.
It’s always interesting when my two main interests collide like this. Rich was the editor in chief of Oni Press for a few very critical years and is still writing comics and novels. Here’s a link to the full review, but my favorite bit is below.
Cubism in Concert was shot last November in Mexico City as part of the tour to promote Fundamental, and though there is a good amount of attention paid to that album, the band has over twenty years of material to draw from for their set. Really, the “Cubism” title seems an appropriate description of this kind of musical construct: a band’s career represented in one sitting, all the facets of two decades of music represented in under two hours, viewing all angles at once and making each song equal on the timeline. I may just be pulling that out of my butt, but the Pet Shop is the workplace of rather smart Boys, and I wouldn’t put it past them.
Cubism, the Pet Shop Boys concert recorded in Mexico last year, will get an American release tomorrow. If your local record store doesn’t carry records by semi-obscure British synthpop duos, Amazon is offering the DVD at a substantial discount.
Released a month before Pet Shop Boys’ first album Please, “Love Comes Quickly” is a perfectly straightforward pop song with slick production and a few nice couplets, more notable for the excellent sleeve design (the first by the duo’s longtime collaborator Mark Farrow, with input from Chris Lowe) than the track itself, an ethereal paean to the power of love featuring a heavy bassline and a very repetitive Fairlight chord. Recorded the same night as a track that would eventually become “I’m not scared,” “Love comes quickly” was created while the duo was in what Tennant has described as “our beautiful Italian disco mood.”
It’s amusing (at least to me) that my favorite bit, the lyric at 2:37, “I know it sounds ridiculous, but speaking from experience,” was actually written by producer Stephen Hague, who felt there needed to be “a middle bit” holding the song together. That fact, along with the expensive sax solo that can barely be heard in the track (that’s Andy Mackay from Roxy Music, which is quite possibly the most big-budget, 80s thing the duo could have done at this point in their careers) are far more interesting to me than song itself, especially when there’s a sleeve like this to consider:
M: Speaking of gay… have you ever publicly come out? Did you ever feel like you needed to?
NT: I was always gay in my private life, and also the imagery in our songs, and our image, there was something pretty gay about it all. But in the 1980s, we didn’t say we were gay. We had a big teen following and I’ve always thought it more exciting when the sexuality thing is all mysterious. I mean, do you remember the record “Love Comes Quickly” [”Love Comes Quickly”: Released March, 1986. #11 on U.K. charts.]? The cover image was Chris wearing that Boy cap, and I just thought, “That’s incredibly gay! We’re OUT!”
M: But people just took it as a teen pop record?
NT: Yes, exactly. Anyway, five years ago I did this interview for a magazine in England and it was a new gay magazine. I figured it would seem churlish not to say that I was gay in a new gay magazine. But it wasn’t much of a surprise, was it? I never pretended to be straight. We’ve never done fake girlfriends, or sexy videos with girls [except “Being Boring,” 1990, Bruce Weber director, lots of sexy girls and boys. PSB only cameo in it for 2.5 seconds]1.
“Love comes quickly” isn’t a bad track by any stretch (even if I grow very tired of the “Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah” sample), but it lacks the intelligence and wit that marks most Pet Shop Boys singles. It’s danceable, to be sure, and it sounds fantastic on a large system, but Tennant’s vocal doesn’t seem mixed quite to my tastes and the lyrics are no great shakes, especially compared to the earlier doses of smart pop the duo had released.
It’s telling that my favorite version of the song is the furthest departed from the original template. “Love comes quickly” was remixed by Blank & Jones in 2003 for their mix album Relax, taking a decent pop song from the 80s and turning it into a fantastic “chill out” track, excising the original beat entirely and using Tennant’s vocal as a centerpiece counterpointed with guitar flourishes and all nestled in a warm synth sound with a lively backing:
Favorite Versions: The Blank & Jones mix, rather obviously, and the extended dance mix from Disco. The latter builds wonderfully, hinting at the song’s various elements before hitting at just the right point. There’s also a live version on the “I get along” single that’s very listenable - it’s a bit “rock,” but that’s what they were doing at the time.
“Opportunities (Let’s make lots of money)” was the second single released by Pet Shop Boys and served as the second half of the duo’s short-lived relationship with Epic Records1. The first version, mixed by Bobby Orlando, was never released, replaced with a second mix by J. J. Jeclazik of Art of Noise and producer Nicholas Froome. This remixed version debuted on July 1, 1985 and charted at 116 on the UK charts, signalling an end to the duo’s relationship with Epic1.
It was the second release of “West End girls,” as produced by Stephen Hague, that prompted yet another mix of the song. This Hague-produced version of “Opportunities” was released on the heels of Please and did significantly better, this time reaching 11th place on the UK chart, 10th on the stateside Billboard Hot 100, and #3 on the Hot Dance Music/Club Play chart issued by Billboard. The most notable change between these versions is the removal of a spoken-word coda to the track, deemed too pretentious after some examination by Tennant and Lowe.
The lyrics, written by Tennant after Lowe suggested they write a song around the line “Let’s make lots of money,” satirize consumer culture and Thatcherism as the narrator attempts to get the listener on board for a get-rich-quick scheme. The monologue of the song is roughly based around Dustin Hoffman’s character in Midnight Cowboy, and Tennant has stated that he’s quite sure that whatever the scheme is, it’s going to fail.
Listeners (particularly in the States) being what they are, many misinterpreted the track as a manifesto for the band, a declaration that they were only in it for the money. Wayne Studer, PhD, believes this perception is one of the earliest indications that Pet Shop Boys would never be fully accepted in America, and it could easily be argued that Americans don’t want to think at all when it comes to their pop music. If a song is not about dancing, loving, or fucking, its chance of chart success is roughly equal to that of a rabbit thrown into a dog cage.
Those that didn’t interpret the song as the band’s mission statement seem to have embraced it as an anthem glorifying their own consumerist greed. The song has served as the opening theme for Beauty And The Geek, an American reality show wherein mismatched couples (a media-friendly version of “attractive” woman and the sort of guy who loves Star Trek more than bathing) are pitted against each other for a cash prize. In addition to this, it was also used for another, more short-lived reality program featuring billionaire Mark Cuban: The Benefactor. Aside from these more prominent placements, it’s also frequently used as “bumper” music during financial reporting on networks such as CNN and FOX News, showing either a heightened sense or irony, or complete cluelessness.
As far as the song itself goes, the production (particularly the Hague version) shows a couple of notable influences: the sharp drums feature a jackhammer beat that’s not a million miles away from the industrial-style percussion used on Depeche Mode’s Some Great Reward, and the cut-and-paste treatment of the sampled background vocals can definitely be linked to Jeclazik’s work with Art of Noise. Working with an already club-friendly track, Shep Pettibone certainly helped elevate second release’s 12″ version to its high placement on the Billboard Dance charts with a smart, propulsive build to the introduction of the constantly-quoted “I’ve got the brains / you’ve got the looks” lyric.
Despite any misunderstanding on the part of listeners, “Opportunities (Let’s make lots of money)” now serves as an early sign that Tennant and Lowe would eventually become the smartest pop songwriting duo of the past three decades.
Favorite Versions: The live one on the Performance tour. Incredible, funny staging. Since YouTube and DailyMotion don’t have that version handy, here’s the live version from Montage, another favorite:
1We’ll ignore the release of “One More Chance” in three markets, for now. If I can ever bring it upon myself to pick up that horribly-designed ZYX box set, I’ll probably get back to it.
2 For completeness’s sake, it should be mentioned that the Jeclazik-produced version was first made available on CD with the out-of-print Essentials compilation from 1998 and can still be had on the remastered 2CD edition of Please.
“West End girls” wasn’t an instant hit, despite what many people believe; in fact, the track was released twice, with two other singles (”Opportunities” and “One more chance”) being released in the interim. The original, Bobby Orlando-produced version of the track was put out through on Epic Records in April of 1984, failing to enter the the UK charts while becoming a minor dancefloor hit in France, The Netherlands, and the States.
It was only after Stephen Hague significantly reworked the song, removing the stripped-down New York City “street” sound that Orlando championed in acts like The Flirts and replacing it with a slightly gloomy atmosphere while slowing down Tennant’s delivery, that a genuine “hit” was created. The redone version of the song was released in October of 1985 and rapidly climbed charts worldwide, ironically giving the duo the American success they’d implicitly been asking for by having Bobby Orlando create the original version of the record.
This combination of roundabout origins and uniquely English nature of the lyrics makes the album and Hague versions of “West End girls” sound surprisingly funky, a stark groove and minimal bassline contrasting nicely with Tennant’s infamously deadpan vocals that alternate rapping and singing from verse to chorus.
I remember being fascinated by the places named when I first heard this track: “Lake Geneva” and “Finland Station” were huge, imaginary spaces to me, imagined London Underground stops instead of ports of call during Lenin’s retreat to Russia just before the Revolution, and I’d only known of the “West End” vaguely, at best knowing that it was a part of London. Especially fascinating to me is the nature of the lyrics, especially when taken holistically with the rest of the track. “West End girls” serves as a quirky pop song and quasi-fictional travelogue, a sexual undercurrent readily apparent not just because of the seductive bassline and beats, but for the verbal content:
Too many shadows, whispering voices faces on posters, too many choices If? When? Why? What? How much have you got? Have you got it? Do you get it? If so, how often? Which do you choose a hard or soft option? (How much do you need?)
And, later:
You got a heart of glass or a heart of stone?
Just you wait ’til I get you home
I distinctly remember these lines standing out, the first time anything overtly sexual had hit my ears as such. You’ll have to bear with me: I was 12. I’d just started to figure out what girls were for besides annoying the crap out of me.
It may not be my favorite Pet Shop Boys song, but it’s certainly the most important Pet Shop Boys song. A worldwide number one that still gets regular airplay today while establishing the group’s aesthetic early on, not just through “West End girls” itself, but in the sleeve’s design as well as the music video directed by photographer Eric Watson and Andy Morahan? Hard to beat that. On a personal note, the dour lyrics (how many other pop songs at the time told you “sometimes, you’re better off dead?”), combined with a danceability probably helped define tastes I still have to this day.
My Favorite Version(s): Sasha’s 1994 remix, the live versions from Concrete or Montage, or the Extended Dance Version featured on Disco.
. The duo’s tour for Fundamental follows this methodology with a minimal opening that unfolds (much like the titular cube) into a full-bore pop extravaganza as the show progresses.
