Four weeks at number one from w/e 19th February 1983
Winter 1983 for me was a period of upheaval. The health of my grandfather had worsened, and a family decision was made to move out of suburban East London and deeper into Essex, to a house large enough to take everyone in. Moving to a new town meant I had to go to a new school, (struggle to) make new friends, and have a new guitar teacher, two traffic jam ridden miles from where we now lived. In my memories of those trips, it’s dark and raining and the orange streetlights created neon streaks through the grime on the windows of my Dad’s Datsun.
“Now remember,” he said on the way to the teacher’s house, “this is just a try-out. If you don’t get on with him or don’t like him, we can find you another”.
On the second or maybe third occasion, I saw he had a copy of XTC’s “English Settlement” propped up against his stereo and was quietly, shyly flabbergasted, but felt too nervous to mention it. None of my friends or family liked XTC. They were my own little obsession everyone was trying to coax me away from, for reasons of my own. My friends deemed them to be ugly old bastards. My parents felt they were “untalented New Wave rubbish, he can’t even sing”, whereas they were “punk rock” according to my brothers. My new guitar teacher had obviously found his way to them, though - and I decided that if he taught me badly (though he never did) or talked crap (which he sometimes did) he would always be forgiven as one of the enlightened ones, and I would stick with him.
A couple of weeks later he gently asked me what I was listening to at home and who my favourite bands were. I named XTC and he looked taken aback. “Well, they’re brilliant, but I wasn’t expecting that answer!” he replied. “Tell you what, if you want to listen to things which will help you think about your own work on the guitar, there’s someone else you might also be interested in...”
(I feared the worst at this point. Guitar teachers were always recommending Gordon Giltrap and Sky to me, usually with the justification “They’re in the pop charts and they’ll teach you a thing or two”. As if a ten-year old was going to use their limited pocket money to buy a bloody Gordon Giltrap album.)
“Roddy Frame,” my teacher continued. “He’s got a band called Aztec Camera. He’s very young but he’s really good on the guitar. Great songwriter too”.
Aztec Camera were already familiar to me through occasional brief mentions in the music magazines, but I hadn’t heard any of their work. I made a mental note to turn up the radio when they next came on. I would have a long wait ahead, but “Oblivious” burst on to the airwaves on its re-release that autumn, and I taped it on to my cheap little silver radio-cassette player so I could listen to it again.
I liked it a lot, but given my age, I had very limited financial means and even going out to buy a single from the local Woolworths required planning and forethought. For whatever reason, “Oblivious” didn’t make the cut, and nor did the album it came from, “High Land Hard Rain”. I could hear enough of what I wanted from it – tricksiness which was neither showy nor pretentious, a gorgeous hook in the chorus, haunting backing vocals, lots of ideas and movement – without loving it enough to commit any money from the piggy bank.
Listening to “Oblivious” again, trying to approach it with fresh ears, I’m struck for the first time by the fact that my teacher’s suggestion was probably an attempt to be helpful, to try to find something similar that might be in roughly the same wheelhouse as “English Settlement”. The samba rhythm topped off with a busy acoustic guitar, zinging and zipping around, isn’t a million miles off an arrangement Partridge and Moulding might have tried for that album – unlike XTC, though, this song has sprung from the bones of a very young, optimistic man on the brink of better things, rather than a tired and weary songwriter with growing personal issues.
“Oblivious” is an unashamed bash at a pop hit on the songwriter’s own terms. It’s not simple, it’s not necessarily straightforward, and at its heart is arguably a bit too pleased with itself, but the restlessness, the hooks, the drive are so powerful and bright that they dazzle the listener enough to trojan horse the smart alec elements in. Even the acoustic guitar solo in the middle is almost too sunny, too happy with itself to sound accomplished, in the way that upbeat music often causes us to overlook any complexity. Frame finger picks one note for ages before flying off anywhere ambitious on the fretboard, almost taunting the listener not to expect any more effort.
I had always assumed that “Oblivious” was about meeting a new lover or falling into a new relationship, imagining that person arriving into your life (“I see your footsteps on the street/ it won’t be long before we meet”) but the other lyrics are riddles wrapped in jokes and obscure poetry cut-ups, with each two-liner offering nothing which seems to contribute to the whole. Frame later confessed that he just wanted to put the catchiest, cleverest lines from his notebook into one pop song, meaning its often a mire of contradictions – “Got different badges but they wear them just the same” could be a line from an angry Paul Weller song, whereas “I hope it haunts me til I’m hopeless/ I hope it hurts you when you go” sounds as if it’s been parachuted in from a song with a different mood altogether.
In summary, Frame is smart-arsing his way around creating a pop hit and getting away with it. Few other teenagers could have attempted these kinds of cut-ups in 1983 and not been called out for it, but he never once loses sight of the end goal; a career-breaking hit so overloaded with melodic and lyrical phrases that at least one of them would stick with every listener. This is commercial cynicism with intelligence and craft behind it, allowing you to understand you’re being hypnotised but not care about the fact.
Increasingly, Frame’s name would get bandied alongside Paddy McAloon’s as a man who “crafted” pop knowingly but lovingly – bringing to mind melody makers beavering away in their rustic woodland sheds, offering a different kind of pop, a complex kind of Radio One playlist fare. Compared to the indie number ones we've seen so far, “Oblivious” is a total outlier, being neither forward focused like Yazoo, New Order or Depeche Mode, nor messy, aggrieved and DIY like Crass, Discharge, or Anti-Pasti. Its closest relative is probably “Shipbuilding”, and there’s no doubt that Costello set a ball rolling for this kind of thing in general, but it lacks the earnestness or the coherent message.
“Oblivious” could, in fact, have been released at any time between 1974 and the end of the eighties with only a few production tweaks and changes. It harks both backwards and forwards to notions of proper singer-songwriters writing tunes with both hooky ideas and meat on their bones – an idea which would slowly gain currency and, for better or worse, Frame would find himself boxed in by.
So far, the indie chart has been unkind to men and women with sensible haircuts writing considered melodies, but as Top of the Pops and the Sunday chart rundowns became filled with big productions and ladies and gentlemen in designer outfits, so the indie chart and evening radio began to become a place for a different kind of intelligent pop, one that offered a modest and considered counterpoint. It wasn’t experimental and it wasn’t ashamed of its background – Microdisney were unapologetic Steely Dan fans, for example – but it ended up, for a short time at least, finding a safe home in the inky music press, approved of by music journalists as a reaction of sorts and by guitar teachers for having good musicianship undercutting it. “Oblivious” isn’t the last we’ll see of this by any means.
Week One
6. Birthday Party – Bad Seed (EP) (Mute)
Peak Position: 2
“Sonny’s Burning” is The Birthday Party performing their usual nasty trick – the song sounds continually close to imploding on itself as Nick Cave froths himself into another rage, only for the backbeat to settle everything into an orderly shape once more. “Flame on, FLAME ON!” he screeches, “evil heat baby it consumes me!”
The early eighties had no shortage of demented and angry vocalists, but Cave was one of the few you could genuinely believe might be a danger to both himself and others.
12. Marine Girls – You Must Be Mad (Cherry Red)
Peak position: 11
Tracey Thorn’s group prior to Everything But The Girl offered everything they did but were spartan in comparison. “You Must Be Mad” is simple, cheap and effective, sounding like The Raincoats on a campfire trip. John Peel’s ears pricked up, as indeed did a young Kurt Cobain’s many years later.
23. Pigbag – Hit The O Deck (Y Records)
Peak position: 9
By 1983 Pigbag had lost most of their angularity and were producing considerably more straightforward records. This should have led to greater success, but as “Hit the O Deck” proves, without the interjection of oddball jazz riffs and strange discords, they were really just another pleasantly funky band among thousands. At no point do the group sound invested enough in this one to make you feel as if either your brain or feet should care.
26. Various – Wessex ‘82 EP (Bluurg)
Peak position: 8
More multi-band budget punk (retailing at a guaranteed 90p) – a tune apiece from Subhumans, Pagans, Organised Chaos and A Heads, all resulting in yet another relatively collectible release.
For the full charts, please go the UKMix Forums
Listening to “Oblivious” again, trying to approach it with fresh ears, I’m struck for the first time by the fact that my teacher’s suggestion was probably an attempt to be helpful, to try to find something similar that might be in roughly the same wheelhouse as “English Settlement”. The samba rhythm topped off with a busy acoustic guitar, zinging and zipping around, isn’t a million miles off an arrangement Partridge and Moulding might have tried for that album – unlike XTC, though, this song has sprung from the bones of a very young, optimistic man on the brink of better things, rather than a tired and weary songwriter with growing personal issues.
“Oblivious” is an unashamed bash at a pop hit on the songwriter’s own terms. It’s not simple, it’s not necessarily straightforward, and at its heart is arguably a bit too pleased with itself, but the restlessness, the hooks, the drive are so powerful and bright that they dazzle the listener enough to trojan horse the smart alec elements in. Even the acoustic guitar solo in the middle is almost too sunny, too happy with itself to sound accomplished, in the way that upbeat music often causes us to overlook any complexity. Frame finger picks one note for ages before flying off anywhere ambitious on the fretboard, almost taunting the listener not to expect any more effort.
I had always assumed that “Oblivious” was about meeting a new lover or falling into a new relationship, imagining that person arriving into your life (“I see your footsteps on the street/ it won’t be long before we meet”) but the other lyrics are riddles wrapped in jokes and obscure poetry cut-ups, with each two-liner offering nothing which seems to contribute to the whole. Frame later confessed that he just wanted to put the catchiest, cleverest lines from his notebook into one pop song, meaning its often a mire of contradictions – “Got different badges but they wear them just the same” could be a line from an angry Paul Weller song, whereas “I hope it haunts me til I’m hopeless/ I hope it hurts you when you go” sounds as if it’s been parachuted in from a song with a different mood altogether.
In summary, Frame is smart-arsing his way around creating a pop hit and getting away with it. Few other teenagers could have attempted these kinds of cut-ups in 1983 and not been called out for it, but he never once loses sight of the end goal; a career-breaking hit so overloaded with melodic and lyrical phrases that at least one of them would stick with every listener. This is commercial cynicism with intelligence and craft behind it, allowing you to understand you’re being hypnotised but not care about the fact.
Increasingly, Frame’s name would get bandied alongside Paddy McAloon’s as a man who “crafted” pop knowingly but lovingly – bringing to mind melody makers beavering away in their rustic woodland sheds, offering a different kind of pop, a complex kind of Radio One playlist fare. Compared to the indie number ones we've seen so far, “Oblivious” is a total outlier, being neither forward focused like Yazoo, New Order or Depeche Mode, nor messy, aggrieved and DIY like Crass, Discharge, or Anti-Pasti. Its closest relative is probably “Shipbuilding”, and there’s no doubt that Costello set a ball rolling for this kind of thing in general, but it lacks the earnestness or the coherent message.
“Oblivious” could, in fact, have been released at any time between 1974 and the end of the eighties with only a few production tweaks and changes. It harks both backwards and forwards to notions of proper singer-songwriters writing tunes with both hooky ideas and meat on their bones – an idea which would slowly gain currency and, for better or worse, Frame would find himself boxed in by.
So far, the indie chart has been unkind to men and women with sensible haircuts writing considered melodies, but as Top of the Pops and the Sunday chart rundowns became filled with big productions and ladies and gentlemen in designer outfits, so the indie chart and evening radio began to become a place for a different kind of intelligent pop, one that offered a modest and considered counterpoint. It wasn’t experimental and it wasn’t ashamed of its background – Microdisney were unapologetic Steely Dan fans, for example – but it ended up, for a short time at least, finding a safe home in the inky music press, approved of by music journalists as a reaction of sorts and by guitar teachers for having good musicianship undercutting it. “Oblivious” isn’t the last we’ll see of this by any means.
New Entries On the Chart
6. Birthday Party – Bad Seed (EP) (Mute)
Peak Position: 2
“Sonny’s Burning” is The Birthday Party performing their usual nasty trick – the song sounds continually close to imploding on itself as Nick Cave froths himself into another rage, only for the backbeat to settle everything into an orderly shape once more. “Flame on, FLAME ON!” he screeches, “evil heat baby it consumes me!”
The early eighties had no shortage of demented and angry vocalists, but Cave was one of the few you could genuinely believe might be a danger to both himself and others.
12. Marine Girls – You Must Be Mad (Cherry Red)
Peak position: 11
Tracey Thorn’s group prior to Everything But The Girl offered everything they did but were spartan in comparison. “You Must Be Mad” is simple, cheap and effective, sounding like The Raincoats on a campfire trip. John Peel’s ears pricked up, as indeed did a young Kurt Cobain’s many years later.
23. Pigbag – Hit The O Deck (Y Records)
Peak position: 9
By 1983 Pigbag had lost most of their angularity and were producing considerably more straightforward records. This should have led to greater success, but as “Hit the O Deck” proves, without the interjection of oddball jazz riffs and strange discords, they were really just another pleasantly funky band among thousands. At no point do the group sound invested enough in this one to make you feel as if either your brain or feet should care.
26. Various – Wessex ‘82 EP (Bluurg)
Peak position: 8
More multi-band budget punk (retailing at a guaranteed 90p) – a tune apiece from Subhumans, Pagans, Organised Chaos and A Heads, all resulting in yet another relatively collectible release.
Week Two
16. Anthrax – They’ve Got It All Wrong (EP) (Small Wonder)
Peak position: 14
No, not that Anthrax, but an earlier Kentish punk band sharing the Thrash Metallers name. This issue on the Walthamstow based Small Wonder label has enough proto-thrash energy to keep the confusion afloat, though – the title track is breathless, messy and thundering, and could probably be enjoyed by proper punks and metallers alike.
17. The Gist – Fool For A Valentine (Rough Trade)
Peak position: 17
The final single under the Gist moniker for Young Marble Giants members Philip and Stuart Moxham. “Fool For A Valentine” is a strange New Wave/ reggae hybrid which lilts so politely that it almost apologises for itself. A sweet and very slightly strange effort.
18. Cabaret Voltaire - Fool's Game (Les Disques Du Crépuscule)
Peak position: 10
21. Soul On Ice – Widescreen (Red Rhino)
Peak position: 21
Short-lived group formed by ex-Penetration member Gary Chaplin. “Widescreen” was their second and last single, whose subject matter and jerky, nodding style could barely have been more New Wave if it tried. The chorus lifts the whole thing up by the scruff of the neck and into another realm entirely, sounding as if it could have been chiming out of a million American radios if only it had been attached to a completely different song.
22. Red Alert – City Invasion (No Future)
Peak position: 19
26. APB – Shoot You Down (Oily)
Peak position: 15
28. Ex Post Facto – Oceanic Explorers (Probe Plus)
Peak position: 28
Liverpudlian four piece who managed three singles and one album before disappearing. “Oceanic Explorers” is a fine disc which exposes cool, fresh synths to dramatic filmic instrumentations and post-punk vocalisations. Despite being firm Peel favourites, they never quite crossed over in the manner their music suggested they may do.
16. Anthrax – They’ve Got It All Wrong (EP) (Small Wonder)
Peak position: 14
No, not that Anthrax, but an earlier Kentish punk band sharing the Thrash Metallers name. This issue on the Walthamstow based Small Wonder label has enough proto-thrash energy to keep the confusion afloat, though – the title track is breathless, messy and thundering, and could probably be enjoyed by proper punks and metallers alike.
17. The Gist – Fool For A Valentine (Rough Trade)
Peak position: 17
The final single under the Gist moniker for Young Marble Giants members Philip and Stuart Moxham. “Fool For A Valentine” is a strange New Wave/ reggae hybrid which lilts so politely that it almost apologises for itself. A sweet and very slightly strange effort.
18. Cabaret Voltaire - Fool's Game (Les Disques Du Crépuscule)
Peak position: 10
21. Soul On Ice – Widescreen (Red Rhino)
Peak position: 21
Short-lived group formed by ex-Penetration member Gary Chaplin. “Widescreen” was their second and last single, whose subject matter and jerky, nodding style could barely have been more New Wave if it tried. The chorus lifts the whole thing up by the scruff of the neck and into another realm entirely, sounding as if it could have been chiming out of a million American radios if only it had been attached to a completely different song.
22. Red Alert – City Invasion (No Future)
Peak position: 19
26. APB – Shoot You Down (Oily)
Peak position: 15
28. Ex Post Facto – Oceanic Explorers (Probe Plus)
Peak position: 28
Liverpudlian four piece who managed three singles and one album before disappearing. “Oceanic Explorers” is a fine disc which exposes cool, fresh synths to dramatic filmic instrumentations and post-punk vocalisations. Despite being firm Peel favourites, they never quite crossed over in the manner their music suggested they may do.
Week Three
8. Danse Society – Somewhere/ Hide (Society)
Peak position: 2
Whether Danse Society were post-punk or goth (or even both) is entirely down to your own interpretation of their work. “Somewhere” sees them close to the end of their relationship with the indie sector before sodding off to Arista records, though, where they landed in the hope of making a serious breakthrough.
Strain your ears hard enough and you can hear the future, though only just. A number of future shoegazing acts, not least Lush, would regularly queue at their local record shops to buy Danse Society records, and the atmosphere here shows the debt they’re afforded.
12. Wall Of Voodoo – Mexican Radio (Illegal)
Peak position: 4
Now here’s a thing – a few months ago I was walking my dog on the local common when I came across a bunch of picnicking teens listening to this track on a mobile phone. I nearly asked them how they knew about it, but thought better of it for fear of child protection being called and went on my own baffled way.
To be fair, “Mexican Radio” was the closest the Californian group Wall of Voodoo ever came to a hit in this country, with this track peaking at number 64 in the national charts. In it, Stan Ridgway and his cohorts sing about the mystic experience of listening to Mexican radio stations close to the border through language divides and a concealing riddle of static. Somewhere in his bedroom, Michael Stipe probably nodded appreciatively at the idea. Then again, I’ve no doubt John Flansburgh and John Linnell did too.
26. Shriekback – All Lined Up (Y Records)
Peak position: 7
Barry Andrews and friends return with another bit of smooth post-punk funk, this one perhaps being a little too subtle and undemonstrative for its own good. While his ex-bandmates in XTC ventured towards wounded reflection and renewal in “Mummer”, his current pals in Shriekback were still wedded to the idea of gentle grooves, deep basslines and an even deeper Nosferatu vocal delivery. Neither party would sell an impressive amount of records as a result, and both would attract the insult “smart-arses” on a frequent basis.
29. Major Accident – Mr. Nobody (Step Forward)
Peak position: 27
Week Four
14. The Chameleons – As High As You Can Go (Statik)
Peak Position: 14
From the day they split up onwards, The Chameleons have continually threatened to become one of those bands who become belatedly legendary. A number of magazine retrospectives have threatened to help in this aim, only to ultimately result in only modest numbers of new fans.
The fact remains that this group sound closer to any 21st Century Indie artist than anyone else we’ve heard so far, though. “As High As You Can Go” has endless proto-Slowdive riffs and licks, atmospheric synth washes and antiseptic moods, sounding tailor made for the 2025 shoegaze teens.
The group have most notably influenced Smashing Pumpkins, The Verve and Interpol who have done their best to bandy their name around, but they seem destined to remain a cult concern whose appeal never grew beyond its initial promising beginnings here.
16. Slaughter & The Dogs – Twist & Turn (Thrush)
Peak position: 16
Morrissey gets very upset by the suggestion that he was ever actually a member of Slaughter & The Dogs. He merely rehearsed some new songs with them and recorded a few tracks as demos while passing through.
Now we’ve got that straightened out, on to “Twist & Turn”, which is just over two minutes of mostly instrumental garage punk-a-rama and would prove to be their last single release for some years. It’s short, sharp and noisy but inessential for all that.
17. Alternative - In Nomine Patri EP (Crass)
Peak position: 11
29. The Three Johns – Pink Headed Bug (CNT)
Peak position: 29
Debut appearance for the Johns, founded by ex-Mekon member Jon Langford. The group had the distinction of managing to maintain and develop an audience right through the eighties despite their punk roots.
“Pink Headed Bug” is a pretty stripped back and basic affair which gives away very few clues to the various rackets ahead.
8. Danse Society – Somewhere/ Hide (Society)
Peak position: 2
Whether Danse Society were post-punk or goth (or even both) is entirely down to your own interpretation of their work. “Somewhere” sees them close to the end of their relationship with the indie sector before sodding off to Arista records, though, where they landed in the hope of making a serious breakthrough.
Strain your ears hard enough and you can hear the future, though only just. A number of future shoegazing acts, not least Lush, would regularly queue at their local record shops to buy Danse Society records, and the atmosphere here shows the debt they’re afforded.
12. Wall Of Voodoo – Mexican Radio (Illegal)
Peak position: 4
Now here’s a thing – a few months ago I was walking my dog on the local common when I came across a bunch of picnicking teens listening to this track on a mobile phone. I nearly asked them how they knew about it, but thought better of it for fear of child protection being called and went on my own baffled way.
To be fair, “Mexican Radio” was the closest the Californian group Wall of Voodoo ever came to a hit in this country, with this track peaking at number 64 in the national charts. In it, Stan Ridgway and his cohorts sing about the mystic experience of listening to Mexican radio stations close to the border through language divides and a concealing riddle of static. Somewhere in his bedroom, Michael Stipe probably nodded appreciatively at the idea. Then again, I’ve no doubt John Flansburgh and John Linnell did too.
26. Shriekback – All Lined Up (Y Records)
Peak position: 7
Barry Andrews and friends return with another bit of smooth post-punk funk, this one perhaps being a little too subtle and undemonstrative for its own good. While his ex-bandmates in XTC ventured towards wounded reflection and renewal in “Mummer”, his current pals in Shriekback were still wedded to the idea of gentle grooves, deep basslines and an even deeper Nosferatu vocal delivery. Neither party would sell an impressive amount of records as a result, and both would attract the insult “smart-arses” on a frequent basis.
29. Major Accident – Mr. Nobody (Step Forward)
Peak position: 27
Week Four
14. The Chameleons – As High As You Can Go (Statik)
Peak Position: 14
From the day they split up onwards, The Chameleons have continually threatened to become one of those bands who become belatedly legendary. A number of magazine retrospectives have threatened to help in this aim, only to ultimately result in only modest numbers of new fans.
The fact remains that this group sound closer to any 21st Century Indie artist than anyone else we’ve heard so far, though. “As High As You Can Go” has endless proto-Slowdive riffs and licks, atmospheric synth washes and antiseptic moods, sounding tailor made for the 2025 shoegaze teens.
The group have most notably influenced Smashing Pumpkins, The Verve and Interpol who have done their best to bandy their name around, but they seem destined to remain a cult concern whose appeal never grew beyond its initial promising beginnings here.
16. Slaughter & The Dogs – Twist & Turn (Thrush)
Peak position: 16
Morrissey gets very upset by the suggestion that he was ever actually a member of Slaughter & The Dogs. He merely rehearsed some new songs with them and recorded a few tracks as demos while passing through.
Now we’ve got that straightened out, on to “Twist & Turn”, which is just over two minutes of mostly instrumental garage punk-a-rama and would prove to be their last single release for some years. It’s short, sharp and noisy but inessential for all that.
17. Alternative - In Nomine Patri EP (Crass)
Peak position: 11
29. The Three Johns – Pink Headed Bug (CNT)
Peak position: 29
Debut appearance for the Johns, founded by ex-Mekon member Jon Langford. The group had the distinction of managing to maintain and develop an audience right through the eighties despite their punk roots.
“Pink Headed Bug” is a pretty stripped back and basic affair which gives away very few clues to the various rackets ahead.
For the full charts, please go the UKMix Forums
Number One In The National Charts
Kajagoogoo: "Too Shy" (EMI)
Michael Jackson: "Billie Jean" (Epic)
Bonnie Tyler: "Total Eclipse Of The Heart" (CBS)
Ah, "Shoot You Down". From memory a spartan yet catchy funk-pop affair from a group from or located near Aberdeen. Follow-up "Palace Filled With Love" was more twee but just as enjoyable.
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