I have noted on this blog over the past couple of years how we have seen a tendency by many pop artists to go back to 1960s influences for their current releases. We have seen the enduring career of Amy Winehouse with a very soul/mowtown approach and then Duffy with her kind of Sandie Shaw/Dusty Springfield British 1960s flavour. Duffy seems to be releasing almost everything off her album and it all has that sound, very nostalgic to those who know the originals, but clearly appealing to younger people too. It was also interesting to note that Sharleen Spiteri's solo album, 'Melody' which was released in July also has very much a 1960s feel which is apparent if you look at the cover with her dressed in that smart, almost cute, black dress with the white piping. Her singles, 'All the Times I Cried' and 'Stop I Don't Love You Any More' mix together 1960s influences from both the USA and UK with the quite highly orchestrated, complex instrumentation with a force behind it that underlies lyrics which are belted out and are highly emotional. This pattern can be seen in Duffy's work too. Winehouse has overlaps with this style but also tinged with a bluesy flavour coming through the mowtown approach. Even performers who you would anticipate as being deep in a 2000s approach, notably the group, Girls Aloud (formed in 2002 for the TV show 'Pop Stars: The Rivals') who have just become the most successful female group in British history (19 consecutive Top 10 hits) and yet have joined the bandwagon of retro pop. This is most apparent in their current single 'The Promise'.
Not only does the video show them at a drive-in watching themselves dressed in outfits The Supremes would have worn, but the lyrics betray some of the submissive female lines that I had detected before especially in Duffy's early releases (though I am glad to say things like 'Warwick Avenue' are more ballsy). The opening lines from Girls Aloud's song that go: 'Everything he does, is better than anything ordinary/ Everything he wants he gets, cause everything he does is kinda necessary' really hammer home that the 'heroine' of the song judges her needs as being subservient to those of the man, not just because they are 'better' but because even though she cannot rationalise it, his self-importance asserts itself over anything she needs. This could almost be a Doris Day song and I think The Supremes themselves would have jarred a little at its sentiments. Despite the success of this song, I hope that young women do not think they have to subvert their goals to those of a man because he says it is necessary. Interestingly this submissive approach of the white female performers is in direct counterpoint to the songs that seemed to condemn men as unfeeling and selfish, notably, Beyonce's 'If I Was a Boy', Alesha Dixon's 'The Boy Does Nothing' ('boy' seems to becoming the derogatory term for men, though of course for American blacks it is a very loaded term for applying to men), Jennifer Hudson's 'Spotlight', Rihanna's 'Take a Bow' (which itself seems to be inspired by Beyonce's earlier single 'Irreplaceable' (2006)) and of course the ever-reliable white exception, Pink with 'So What' (though given the split from her husband there were clear motives for that one). This trend is going to the extent of Leona Lewis's 'Forgive Me' in which the woman she sings about feels that even though the man she is with had 'love that always passed the test', she feels 'I had to go and look somewhere else'. I suppose this is turning gender dynamics on its head with the woman setting very high standards for me, criticising them for failing to meet them, and thus feeling free to conduct affairs.
To some extent these singles are taking extremes on both sides. As a man I feel terribly uneasy that all men seemed to be being condemned as unfaithful and useless by influential female singers. I am sure it is doubly offensive to black American men at whom these songs seem aimed, surely there are positive examples out there who treat their wives/girlfriends decently, though this is certainly not the image received from Beyonce who portrays anyone who is 'just a boy' as incapable of any emotional attachment to their partners. Such songs do shape attitudes, as Blue's disgraceful 'All Rise' (2001) encouraged boyfriends to throw away all their girlfriend's possessions if she was not sufficiently forthcoming in information about her activities when away from him. The influx of 1960s sentiments through using 1960s stylings further complicates the battle of gender politics of the 2000s that seems to have been going on in the charts.
The most interesting entry in the current retro pop wave is Sir Tom Jones (1940-). What makes this so interesting is that Jones was an original 1960s recording artist anyway. He released his first single in 1965 and has sold 100 millon records since. He has always been hard to define as he has had one foot in the pop area and one in the more 'crooner', lounge singer area. Jones has constantly re-invented himself, first notably by covering 'Kiss' with the Art of Noise in 1988 and then performing with other pop acts, EMF and particularly 1999-2000 with The Cardigans, Cerys Matthews, The Pretenders, Mousse T, The Stereophonics and Robbie Williams. With the success of Tony Christie's 'Is This The Way to Amarillo?' re-released in 2005, maybe he has been tempted more back to the crooner side. The first single off his new album, '24 Hours', 'If He Sould Ever Leave You' is very much a song Jones could have released successfully in 1967 with lines such as 'He should be inclined to keep you close' and references to 'your captivating eyes' would not be out of place sitting alongside his 1960s hits such as 'It's Not Unusual' (1965), 'Help Yourself' (1968), '(It Looks Like) I'll Never Fall In Love Again' (1969) and 'She's A Lady' (1971). I suppose that given his success with this style he must be delighted he can continue to produce records in this style and have them still selling forty years on. I suppose it is what you say with all fashions if you stay still long enough with a style it will all come round again. Jones has had the best of both worlds, success with adapting his style and success with remaining with his original approach too. I wonder who will be next to benefit from the retro pop wave of the moment.
P.P. 11/01/2009 The Christmas period seemed no cease in the retro style pop songs coming from younger performers. Notable were Boyzone with 'Better' (2008) which could easily have been a Roy Orbison (1936-88) track, especially with the guitar and drums marking time, it was very remiscent of so much Orbison material. The group even tried his spread across the octaves though even using two lead vocals they cannot attain his two-and-a-half octave baritone stretch. The other was Gabriella Chilme being the Ronettes, the Crystals, Darlene Love or some similar mowtown style performers with her 'Warm This Winter' (2008) with the wall of sound and brass, it could have been write off the Phil Spector's 'A Christmas Gift To You' (1963; re-released in 1972). Perhaps she is seeking longevity as tracks from that album are still played on the radio today.
Showing posts with label Amy Duffy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amy Duffy. Show all posts
Thursday, 13 November 2008
Sunday, 12 October 2008
Memories of Warwick Avenue
There are a number of songs which not only remind me of my past because when I hear them they fire off reminiscences of that time, but because they specifically refer to somewhere that I have had a connection with. Having lived in Woking a great deal it is not surprising that work by 'The Jam' and particularly by Paul Weller himself falls into this category. 'A Town Called Malice' (1982) is supposedly about Woking where 'The Jam' grew up. 'Stanley Road' (1995), Paul Weller's third album is named after a road in Woking which I walked down many times and a video for one of the singles from the album featured the railway station. Ironically Weller as a member of The Style Council also recorded 'Come to Milton Keynes' (1985) which I did in the 2000s. However, the most recent song which has covered a location I knew is 'Warwick Avenue' by Duffy released this year, from her highly successful album 'Rockferry'. As I have commented before Duffy's music owes a lot to 1960s female singers such as Dusty Springfield, Sandie Shaw, even Petula Clark, though with a bit more blues, soul, US influence at times. Her songs are clearly rooted in UK culture and 'Warwick Avenue' refers to 'the Tube' which is the colloquial name for the underground railway in London.
The Warwick Avenue in the song is not the one in West London that I knew because it did not have an underground station and it was a residential road which led to shops and cafes but had nowhere in it that you could meet someone unless going into a private house. The one Duffy is referring to is between Marylebone, Kilburn and Notting Hill in western Central London, which does have an underground station. The Warwick Avenue my grandparents lived in is in Harrow, a large residential area of West London; it has its own postcodes rather than using standard London ones. It is still old fashioned in style, with remains of factories now retail parks, lots of semi-detached houses, small shopping districts, municipal parks, etc. It still sums up the post-war enthusiasm for a decent life with a community of people living in clean, reasonable sized houses and working in manufacturing or the service sector. You can almost feel that in the streets of the area even to this day when things are old and worn and manufacturing has gone. My grandparents seem to fit into that element perfectly. They lived in a semi-detached house in Warwick Avenue (all the streets in that area are named after British castles). It had three bedrooms. That fact in itself is fascinating as my grandfather was from skilled working class, working in car manufacture and my grandmother was a seamstress, yet they could afford to buy a three-bedroomed semi-detached house. My income is much higher than what someone in those jobs would be today. I earn £34,000 whereas an experienced car manufacturer worker earns £20,000. I am finding myself unable to pay for an almost identical house (his gardens were far larger) to my grandfather's even outside London. The purchasing power of ordinary people in terms of property has slipped a long way since the 1950s when he bought the house in Warwick Avenue.
That economic issue aside, this posting is about the memories of my Warwick Avenue, which are stimulated when I hear the song. I think I retain such affection for it because it was always a nice time when we went to visit my grandparents. Everyone would be happy and we would get treats. So, in contrast, to my parents' home it has only good memories. That is even though the last time I went there was following my grandfather's funeral (my grandmother had died a few years earlier) and yet it was a positive experience as he had died peacefully and as people say, you felt he had gone to a better place. In my mind his Heaven, was probably pretty similar to the house where we had the funeral tea.
To a great extent my memory of the house is as if it was an expansion of the rooms that you might see at the Geffrye Museum in Hackney, London (see http://www.geffrye-museum.org.uk/) which has reproductions of rooms through the ages from 1600 onwards with authentic furniture and fittings. My grandparents' house was like that, a collection of furniture and household items from say 1955-85 and each with their own charm, though many would seem rather 'naff' to many people seeing them, they sum up the culture of millions of ordinary British people in those years.
Moving round the house, I remember the metal gate with the rising sun logo so beloved of suburbia from the 1930s onwards, the steel dustbin with the house number painted on it, by the front door; the little indicator for the milkman that could be turned to show how many pints of milk you wanted in the porch by the door; the big shiny front door itself with the spyhole to see who was there as its glass with stained elements, was frosted. The bay window with the pure white net curtains looking out on to the small front lawn and its carefully tended flowers. Inside by the front door on a dark wooden stand was the telephone and the little box with the ditty on about putting in money to save to pay for the telephone bill.
Then there was the living room or sitting room. This was the first place I ever saw a colour television, with the red turned up so that everything was a bright pink colour. There was the glass-fronted cabinet of ornaments and books. I remember the collection of the popular 1970s series about Edward VII there and books about house plants; a shelf of glass and metal ornaments such as the see/hear/speak no evil monkeys. Above the fireplace with a 1970s gas fire was one of those clocks set on the large star metal backing, with long reaching out rays, below a painting of sailing ships by a hard. Below the gas fire a patterned rug, which for many years had tapestry of 'The Mayflower'. There was a sofa, a magazine rack, a small row of library books on the window sill. Then the large television. There was also the drawers, one of which held the toys for the visiting grandchildren, like a plastic Spitfire, the letter cubes, the plastic monkeys which hooked together, a fascinating 'things to do' magazine that I read again and again, with articles on follies and how to make a paper tiger and a puzzle about which of the children had to stand on which one's shoulders to reach the jam on the cupboard.
This was the main room of the family activities, lunch and tea at the folded out dining table. Plain food for my grandfather, and 1970s version of Chinese food produced by my aunt, lots of pork balls with bright red sauce. This was where we ate my grandmother's scones, both plain and cheese with tiny chives. This was where my grandfather would bring the ice cream, bought as a brick-sized vanilla block from the ice cream van as it stopped on the corner having played its tune. This was where we ate perfectly cut sandwiches, delightfully light sausage rolls and brightly-coloured trifle; meat with gravy and stuffing and brussel sprouts. We also had heavy fruit cake with heavy white icing of the kind deemed in the UK to be perfect for weddings and Christmas, and the yellow and pink chequer patterned Battenburg cake. This is all in jumbled order and straddling across seasons, but you get the ideas. Before the main mean were snacks and I was put off nuts-and-raisins for years because a stale packet was brought out my first time and I assumed that that was what they tasted like all the time.
It was in this room that the new technology was tested. I mention the first colour television, but it was also where I first saw a remote control television in use. Being a semi-detached house, there was concern that if it was pointed at the adjoining wall it would change next door's television channel. Here was kept the cassette recorder, that wonderful piece of 1970s technology, the size of a large brick, that allowed us all easy access to music or audio books and for children to record the sound of birds, little plays and quite often 'sound effects' of the toilet being flushed. It was here that I saw an instamatic camera used, with the piece of plastic you had to pull off to show the image. Here too, my aunt's soda stream that was supposed to be the cheap way to produce fizzy drinks by forcing bubbles into a cordial, but came out tasting of chemicals you would never experience in any other place. There was a door out from the living room to the rear garden, but we never went that way, it was always through the kitchen.
The kitchen was a busy place because food played such a big part. It too held gems of mid-20th century culture. The folding step stool, the various kitchen ornaments, especially the coveted Homepride flour plastic man in the black suit with the bowler hat. From the door frame into the kitchen hung coloured plastic strips making a curtain you could walk through, like many shops had in those days. The sinks had long rubber nipples on the taps to stop drips. There was a walk-in larder going under the stairs which was a treasure trove especially of baking ingredients, notably hundreds-and-thousands.
The back garden had the typical plain lawn running down to a high privet hedge which concealed the house behind. There was a small shed in the corner made of sheets of grey concrete. It contained the tools and odd items, but was never as magical as you hoped from sheds as a child and when older we tried to make it more so, designating it as the place to go for non-parent meetings. However, it lacked the smell of wood and gardens that other people's sheds had. This role was filled more by the large garage. This was jammed with old 'biscuits for cheese' and sweet biscuit selection tins full of nuts and bolts, screws, washers, nails and so on. Here my grandfather produced his bird boxes and wooden stalls. He would practice with his very darts to the sound of 'The Organist Entertains' on the radio. By the garage was the vegetable plot which ran beside the house. Not much of interest to children bar the polystyrene ladies wig head and the round mirrors of cord to scare off the birds. In the corner nearest the front was the coal scuttle where I found a German plate from 1941 with Nazi markings. The garden with its high wooden fences was an oasis in the grey urban setting of Harrow. It was functional too, but as children it could have its attractions.
As to the upstairs, well of course, in those days you were never allowed into your parents' bedroom let alone that of your grandparents'. From what I saw I simply remember dark green. I did go in the spare backroom occasionally, to listen to series on the radio that I was following that came on Sunday lunchtimes when I was at the house. I liked the view across the neighbouring gardens, for some reason it made me feel in connection with all the people around. I have always been fascinated by knowing at anyone moment even in a single street hundreds of different actvities are going on. As a child I always wanted to go home at least once with every child in the school just to see their daily routine. I loved the credit sequence of the BBC drama 'Sweet Revenge' (2001) which starts with an aerial shot running over various London streets for much the same reason. I suppose it is an element of nosiness, maybe an aspect of being a writer. I suppose I also like the cool stillness which was in contrast to the often overly warm living room.
The bathroom was another shrine to items of popular culture. The floor was yellow linoneum flecked with red and black. There was one of those long single bar electric heaters high on the wall that were switched on and off by a cord. There was Radox, in those days a box of crystals. We never had that at home, but I dreamed of the supposedly luxurious baths it was advertised as supplying, 'Relax in a Radox bath', I remember the slogan. These days the name sounds more like a radioactive chemical. Then there was the crocheted cover for the toilet roll with the little dolls head on top. This was the archetypal item of British culture of the third quarter of the 20th century. It fitted in with the leather covers for copies of 'Radio Times', wooden cabinets to hold the television and video cassette boxes that looked like leather-bound classic books.
So, whenever I hear a reference to Warwick Avenue, I am returned to this bubble of culture and of activity, good times stretched out over many years, but all bundled up together. Though the house's decor is so far removed from the places I live now, I guess that in my Heaven my house would probably look very similar or at least I could go and visit for a scone, a cup of tea and some Battenburg cake (which these days I like).
The Warwick Avenue in the song is not the one in West London that I knew because it did not have an underground station and it was a residential road which led to shops and cafes but had nowhere in it that you could meet someone unless going into a private house. The one Duffy is referring to is between Marylebone, Kilburn and Notting Hill in western Central London, which does have an underground station. The Warwick Avenue my grandparents lived in is in Harrow, a large residential area of West London; it has its own postcodes rather than using standard London ones. It is still old fashioned in style, with remains of factories now retail parks, lots of semi-detached houses, small shopping districts, municipal parks, etc. It still sums up the post-war enthusiasm for a decent life with a community of people living in clean, reasonable sized houses and working in manufacturing or the service sector. You can almost feel that in the streets of the area even to this day when things are old and worn and manufacturing has gone. My grandparents seem to fit into that element perfectly. They lived in a semi-detached house in Warwick Avenue (all the streets in that area are named after British castles). It had three bedrooms. That fact in itself is fascinating as my grandfather was from skilled working class, working in car manufacture and my grandmother was a seamstress, yet they could afford to buy a three-bedroomed semi-detached house. My income is much higher than what someone in those jobs would be today. I earn £34,000 whereas an experienced car manufacturer worker earns £20,000. I am finding myself unable to pay for an almost identical house (his gardens were far larger) to my grandfather's even outside London. The purchasing power of ordinary people in terms of property has slipped a long way since the 1950s when he bought the house in Warwick Avenue.
That economic issue aside, this posting is about the memories of my Warwick Avenue, which are stimulated when I hear the song. I think I retain such affection for it because it was always a nice time when we went to visit my grandparents. Everyone would be happy and we would get treats. So, in contrast, to my parents' home it has only good memories. That is even though the last time I went there was following my grandfather's funeral (my grandmother had died a few years earlier) and yet it was a positive experience as he had died peacefully and as people say, you felt he had gone to a better place. In my mind his Heaven, was probably pretty similar to the house where we had the funeral tea.
To a great extent my memory of the house is as if it was an expansion of the rooms that you might see at the Geffrye Museum in Hackney, London (see http://www.geffrye-museum.org.uk/) which has reproductions of rooms through the ages from 1600 onwards with authentic furniture and fittings. My grandparents' house was like that, a collection of furniture and household items from say 1955-85 and each with their own charm, though many would seem rather 'naff' to many people seeing them, they sum up the culture of millions of ordinary British people in those years.
Moving round the house, I remember the metal gate with the rising sun logo so beloved of suburbia from the 1930s onwards, the steel dustbin with the house number painted on it, by the front door; the little indicator for the milkman that could be turned to show how many pints of milk you wanted in the porch by the door; the big shiny front door itself with the spyhole to see who was there as its glass with stained elements, was frosted. The bay window with the pure white net curtains looking out on to the small front lawn and its carefully tended flowers. Inside by the front door on a dark wooden stand was the telephone and the little box with the ditty on about putting in money to save to pay for the telephone bill.
Then there was the living room or sitting room. This was the first place I ever saw a colour television, with the red turned up so that everything was a bright pink colour. There was the glass-fronted cabinet of ornaments and books. I remember the collection of the popular 1970s series about Edward VII there and books about house plants; a shelf of glass and metal ornaments such as the see/hear/speak no evil monkeys. Above the fireplace with a 1970s gas fire was one of those clocks set on the large star metal backing, with long reaching out rays, below a painting of sailing ships by a hard. Below the gas fire a patterned rug, which for many years had tapestry of 'The Mayflower'. There was a sofa, a magazine rack, a small row of library books on the window sill. Then the large television. There was also the drawers, one of which held the toys for the visiting grandchildren, like a plastic Spitfire, the letter cubes, the plastic monkeys which hooked together, a fascinating 'things to do' magazine that I read again and again, with articles on follies and how to make a paper tiger and a puzzle about which of the children had to stand on which one's shoulders to reach the jam on the cupboard.
This was the main room of the family activities, lunch and tea at the folded out dining table. Plain food for my grandfather, and 1970s version of Chinese food produced by my aunt, lots of pork balls with bright red sauce. This was where we ate my grandmother's scones, both plain and cheese with tiny chives. This was where my grandfather would bring the ice cream, bought as a brick-sized vanilla block from the ice cream van as it stopped on the corner having played its tune. This was where we ate perfectly cut sandwiches, delightfully light sausage rolls and brightly-coloured trifle; meat with gravy and stuffing and brussel sprouts. We also had heavy fruit cake with heavy white icing of the kind deemed in the UK to be perfect for weddings and Christmas, and the yellow and pink chequer patterned Battenburg cake. This is all in jumbled order and straddling across seasons, but you get the ideas. Before the main mean were snacks and I was put off nuts-and-raisins for years because a stale packet was brought out my first time and I assumed that that was what they tasted like all the time.
It was in this room that the new technology was tested. I mention the first colour television, but it was also where I first saw a remote control television in use. Being a semi-detached house, there was concern that if it was pointed at the adjoining wall it would change next door's television channel. Here was kept the cassette recorder, that wonderful piece of 1970s technology, the size of a large brick, that allowed us all easy access to music or audio books and for children to record the sound of birds, little plays and quite often 'sound effects' of the toilet being flushed. It was here that I saw an instamatic camera used, with the piece of plastic you had to pull off to show the image. Here too, my aunt's soda stream that was supposed to be the cheap way to produce fizzy drinks by forcing bubbles into a cordial, but came out tasting of chemicals you would never experience in any other place. There was a door out from the living room to the rear garden, but we never went that way, it was always through the kitchen.
The kitchen was a busy place because food played such a big part. It too held gems of mid-20th century culture. The folding step stool, the various kitchen ornaments, especially the coveted Homepride flour plastic man in the black suit with the bowler hat. From the door frame into the kitchen hung coloured plastic strips making a curtain you could walk through, like many shops had in those days. The sinks had long rubber nipples on the taps to stop drips. There was a walk-in larder going under the stairs which was a treasure trove especially of baking ingredients, notably hundreds-and-thousands.
The back garden had the typical plain lawn running down to a high privet hedge which concealed the house behind. There was a small shed in the corner made of sheets of grey concrete. It contained the tools and odd items, but was never as magical as you hoped from sheds as a child and when older we tried to make it more so, designating it as the place to go for non-parent meetings. However, it lacked the smell of wood and gardens that other people's sheds had. This role was filled more by the large garage. This was jammed with old 'biscuits for cheese' and sweet biscuit selection tins full of nuts and bolts, screws, washers, nails and so on. Here my grandfather produced his bird boxes and wooden stalls. He would practice with his very darts to the sound of 'The Organist Entertains' on the radio. By the garage was the vegetable plot which ran beside the house. Not much of interest to children bar the polystyrene ladies wig head and the round mirrors of cord to scare off the birds. In the corner nearest the front was the coal scuttle where I found a German plate from 1941 with Nazi markings. The garden with its high wooden fences was an oasis in the grey urban setting of Harrow. It was functional too, but as children it could have its attractions.
As to the upstairs, well of course, in those days you were never allowed into your parents' bedroom let alone that of your grandparents'. From what I saw I simply remember dark green. I did go in the spare backroom occasionally, to listen to series on the radio that I was following that came on Sunday lunchtimes when I was at the house. I liked the view across the neighbouring gardens, for some reason it made me feel in connection with all the people around. I have always been fascinated by knowing at anyone moment even in a single street hundreds of different actvities are going on. As a child I always wanted to go home at least once with every child in the school just to see their daily routine. I loved the credit sequence of the BBC drama 'Sweet Revenge' (2001) which starts with an aerial shot running over various London streets for much the same reason. I suppose it is an element of nosiness, maybe an aspect of being a writer. I suppose I also like the cool stillness which was in contrast to the often overly warm living room.
The bathroom was another shrine to items of popular culture. The floor was yellow linoneum flecked with red and black. There was one of those long single bar electric heaters high on the wall that were switched on and off by a cord. There was Radox, in those days a box of crystals. We never had that at home, but I dreamed of the supposedly luxurious baths it was advertised as supplying, 'Relax in a Radox bath', I remember the slogan. These days the name sounds more like a radioactive chemical. Then there was the crocheted cover for the toilet roll with the little dolls head on top. This was the archetypal item of British culture of the third quarter of the 20th century. It fitted in with the leather covers for copies of 'Radio Times', wooden cabinets to hold the television and video cassette boxes that looked like leather-bound classic books.
So, whenever I hear a reference to Warwick Avenue, I am returned to this bubble of culture and of activity, good times stretched out over many years, but all bundled up together. Though the house's decor is so far removed from the places I live now, I guess that in my Heaven my house would probably look very similar or at least I could go and visit for a scone, a cup of tea and some Battenburg cake (which these days I like).
Friday, 4 April 2008
Retro Pop Continues to Thrive
Last year I noted how many current pop songs seem to be using 1960s style arrangements even though the artists performing the songs had not been alive during that decade. This trend continues now and seems to show no sign of abating. Despite (or may because of) all her personal problems Amy Winehouse continues to be a best seller with her soul-motown style (and on the album she also has music in dub/early reggae styles too) in both the UK and the USA. Here her profile was mantained by her collaboration with Mark Ronson on the cover of 'Valerie' by The Zutons (2006) and inadvertently creating a lesbian anthem.
Of course in the wake of Winehouse and the other singers like Christine Aguillera and Faith Hill who did one-off retro songs, others are coming to the fore, notably (Amy) Duffy who was born in 1985 but sings as if she was a member of a girl group of the mid to late 1960s. Her style is shriller, less earthy than Winehouse and she even cites Millie Small singing 'My Boy Lollipop' (1964) as an influence, along with Sandie Shaw (with a bit more credibility as Small has a terribly girly voice), but I suppose that fits in with the uber-girly style that so many young women are engaging with at the moment. In her song 'Mercy' which has reached number 1 in the UK the lyrics are incredibly submissive about a woman begging for mercy 'on my knees' to be released from her attraction to a man who wants her simply as 'something on the side' which is hardly an empowered young woman's behaviour. Winehouse's lyrics may speak of losing control to alcohol or love but references in 'Rehab', 'Back to Black' and 'Tears Dry On Their Own' are about women taking back the control with greater experience. Maybe it is time for Aretha Franklin to start re-releasing her back catalogue from 'R,E,S,P,E,C,T' to 'Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves', she was there in the 1960s and it seems, still has a great deal to say to women in the late 2000s as society seems to be pushing hard to return to the gender balance of 40 years ago.
The retro style is not confined to women and a number of established groups are making forays into the retro scene. I have heard a number influenced by the MerseyBeat style sounding rather like The Kinks and other male bands of the time. Unfortunately many of these slip from radio consciousness faster than I can keep track of them. There was one by a former member of Pulp (though half the music population of the UK seems to have been in Pulp at one time or another) and the one that sticks out currently is by Badly Drawn Boy who formed in 2003 and have had moderate success. Their single 'Time of Times' has a kind of cross-over British music scene sound with hippy inputs. You could easily have listened to it in 1967 and not been surprised by it. It is musical, though the concept of the lyrics is limited, I personally would prefer it over any rap track around at the moment. Maybe all of this is about Britain, though clearly US artists are joining in too, it seems more sustained here. The British always took on board all kinds of American influences of all kinds, for much of their career The Rolling Stones were a rhythm and blues band before morphing into more of a rock band in the early 1970s and you can hear the blues in their early songs applied to concerns of the time like abuse of prescription drugs. However, the sounds and style were mixed in with British sentiments as they seem to be doing now. The 1960s were a period in modern British history when the country seem to be successful and the general standard of living was pretty good and opportunities for people to advance in society were greater than before. No wonder there might be a nostalgia for such times or among people not born then an interest in music influenced by that era. The issue is, however, is what messages are being brought forward in time is it the line of Winehouse about becoming stronger after challenges or of Duffy about submitting in a male-dominated society or Badly Drawn Boy about a time of change. Maybe it is only people like me who worry about what songs are saying and the bulk of the population consume pop music because it engages emotionally with them. Of course music of the 1960s was often well crafted and you can note often the complexity of the instrumental usage. Some of it was simplistic, naturally, but maybe after so long of pumped electronic background and grunted lyrics people are seeking something more satisfying.
I had anticipated that the retro pop era would fade, but we are now into its second year and if the sales continue to be this high and the range of artists coming to this style of music in its wide range of forms then we can only speculate how long it will go on. It would be interesting if The Rolling Stones on their next tour started performing 'Not Fade Away' (1964), 'It's All Over Now' (1964 - a counterpoint male dominance song) or 'Time Is On My Side' (1965) or even 'Let's Spend the Night Together' (1967 - too controversial for 1960s USA 'the night' had to be substituted with 'some time' and I could imagine it would still be frowned upon in the sexual abstinence culture of a lot of the USA of the 2000s) or 'You Can't Always Get What You Want' (1973) as a counteraction to our current consumerist obsessions (though saying that Mick Jagger is a terribly Thatcherite Conservative and tax avoider, his solo single 'Let's Work' (1987) was an appalling New Right anthem against 'benefit scroungers'). Personally I am intrigued to see what happens next, which other vein of 1960s music is re-excavated, how well it is accepted and what it can tell us about life in this decade.
Of course in the wake of Winehouse and the other singers like Christine Aguillera and Faith Hill who did one-off retro songs, others are coming to the fore, notably (Amy) Duffy who was born in 1985 but sings as if she was a member of a girl group of the mid to late 1960s. Her style is shriller, less earthy than Winehouse and she even cites Millie Small singing 'My Boy Lollipop' (1964) as an influence, along with Sandie Shaw (with a bit more credibility as Small has a terribly girly voice), but I suppose that fits in with the uber-girly style that so many young women are engaging with at the moment. In her song 'Mercy' which has reached number 1 in the UK the lyrics are incredibly submissive about a woman begging for mercy 'on my knees' to be released from her attraction to a man who wants her simply as 'something on the side' which is hardly an empowered young woman's behaviour. Winehouse's lyrics may speak of losing control to alcohol or love but references in 'Rehab', 'Back to Black' and 'Tears Dry On Their Own' are about women taking back the control with greater experience. Maybe it is time for Aretha Franklin to start re-releasing her back catalogue from 'R,E,S,P,E,C,T' to 'Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves', she was there in the 1960s and it seems, still has a great deal to say to women in the late 2000s as society seems to be pushing hard to return to the gender balance of 40 years ago.
The retro style is not confined to women and a number of established groups are making forays into the retro scene. I have heard a number influenced by the MerseyBeat style sounding rather like The Kinks and other male bands of the time. Unfortunately many of these slip from radio consciousness faster than I can keep track of them. There was one by a former member of Pulp (though half the music population of the UK seems to have been in Pulp at one time or another) and the one that sticks out currently is by Badly Drawn Boy who formed in 2003 and have had moderate success. Their single 'Time of Times' has a kind of cross-over British music scene sound with hippy inputs. You could easily have listened to it in 1967 and not been surprised by it. It is musical, though the concept of the lyrics is limited, I personally would prefer it over any rap track around at the moment. Maybe all of this is about Britain, though clearly US artists are joining in too, it seems more sustained here. The British always took on board all kinds of American influences of all kinds, for much of their career The Rolling Stones were a rhythm and blues band before morphing into more of a rock band in the early 1970s and you can hear the blues in their early songs applied to concerns of the time like abuse of prescription drugs. However, the sounds and style were mixed in with British sentiments as they seem to be doing now. The 1960s were a period in modern British history when the country seem to be successful and the general standard of living was pretty good and opportunities for people to advance in society were greater than before. No wonder there might be a nostalgia for such times or among people not born then an interest in music influenced by that era. The issue is, however, is what messages are being brought forward in time is it the line of Winehouse about becoming stronger after challenges or of Duffy about submitting in a male-dominated society or Badly Drawn Boy about a time of change. Maybe it is only people like me who worry about what songs are saying and the bulk of the population consume pop music because it engages emotionally with them. Of course music of the 1960s was often well crafted and you can note often the complexity of the instrumental usage. Some of it was simplistic, naturally, but maybe after so long of pumped electronic background and grunted lyrics people are seeking something more satisfying.
I had anticipated that the retro pop era would fade, but we are now into its second year and if the sales continue to be this high and the range of artists coming to this style of music in its wide range of forms then we can only speculate how long it will go on. It would be interesting if The Rolling Stones on their next tour started performing 'Not Fade Away' (1964), 'It's All Over Now' (1964 - a counterpoint male dominance song) or 'Time Is On My Side' (1965) or even 'Let's Spend the Night Together' (1967 - too controversial for 1960s USA 'the night' had to be substituted with 'some time' and I could imagine it would still be frowned upon in the sexual abstinence culture of a lot of the USA of the 2000s) or 'You Can't Always Get What You Want' (1973) as a counteraction to our current consumerist obsessions (though saying that Mick Jagger is a terribly Thatcherite Conservative and tax avoider, his solo single 'Let's Work' (1987) was an appalling New Right anthem against 'benefit scroungers'). Personally I am intrigued to see what happens next, which other vein of 1960s music is re-excavated, how well it is accepted and what it can tell us about life in this decade.
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