Sunday, June 29, 2025

54. This Mortal Coil - Kangaroo (4AD)


Six weeks at number one from w/e 6th October 1984


I’m attending a small party in Christmas 1991, close to where the suburban sprawl of Southend necks the border of Basildon. It’s the kind of place you can easily get lost – and later that evening I do – because the estate was mass built in the late sixties and there are few distinguishing features to identify one block from the next. Premoulded houses with wooden slats and red brick exteriors face each other dryly, failing to celebrate their similarities. If they could talk, they’d wearily say “Oh, you again” to each other (They would say nothing to the humans who lived in them, of course, for that would be silly).

It’s the third or fourth such gathering I’ve been to that season. Things are changing as we become much older teenagers. The parents have all communicated to each other that we’re actually quite dull, dependable kids who aren’t in the habit of accidentally setting fire to homes, so more front doors start to open up while Mums and Dads enjoy their first taste of total freedom in years. The first thing I hear as I walk through the door on this occasion is Teenage Fanclub’s “Bandwagonesque” playing on the stereo, an album I also got as a gift that Christmas. I announce my approval of the choice of record, and murmurs of agreement fill the room, but then one kid – the slightly bitchy, oh-so-cool one with enough money to buy loads of records – corrected us all.

“Teenage Fanclub are nothing”, he sneered. “If you want to hear music like this done properly, you need to listen to Big Star, that's who they’ve spent most of their lives ripping off”.

So it went probably up and down the land in 1991, with pedestrian indie kids being corrected by the oh-so-cool ones like small children getting reprimanded by their babysitting older brothers. And if Big Star were widely seen in the eighties and nineties as one of the “great lost bands” to impress your friends with, then their final album “Third/Sister Lovers” – belatedly released in 1978, four years after it was completed – was the real work to test their mettle with. If their first two albums were (broadly speaking, though I'm fearful of another comment from a grown up oh-so-cool kid) power pop, that one was less assured and often more broken sounding; the work of a group with an increasingly fragile member (Alex Chilton) who had given up caring about petty concerns such as “commercial potential”.

“Kangaroo” is one of the more uncomfortable tracks on the album, being a slow junkyard busk about one man’s pervy squeeze against a woman at a party. There are moments where it sounds woozy in a distinctly druggy way, but it’s hard to escape the air of menace too – the sense that a scruffy, dazed Chilton rubbing his crotch on you in 1974 wouldn’t be something you’d choose to document yourself except in horror or fury. “I came against/ Didn't say excuse/ Knew what I was doing,” the song croaks. You can almost see his sloppy grin. It’s not an easy listen and only the fact the song sounds tranquillized saves it from being disturbingly unrelatable – somehow, imagining it as a dream or a half-asleep mishap makes it seem less sordid.

While recording This Mortal Coil’s debut album “It’ll End In Tears”, Ivo Watts had his heart set on including a version of “Kangaroo”, but his approach to the assembled musicians that day in the studio – Scottish experimenter and Cindytalk member Cinder Sharp, Simon Raymonde of the Cocteaus, and Martin McCarrick of Marc Almond’s Mambas – was unorthodox. None had heard the track before, and he played it only a few times to get them to understand its essence.

According to an article on Louder Sound, Cinder Sharp’s response was direct and emphatic: “I immediately went: ‘This is shit! This is a shit song!’. I mean, I've completely changed my mind. I love the original version much more than my own. But I didn't get it.”

Nonetheless, the collective were successfully coaxed to record an approximation of it, and in doing so leaned into its chloroformed qualities rather than its seedy mess. The cello makes the song sound like a lullaby, and Sharp seems to both undersell and misinterpret the song’s original lyrics, not quite sanitising it but letting the worst elements sound angelic and consented.

What they created was something of a brother or sister to the previous cult favourite “Song For The Siren”. It’s not as impressive an end result, but had an unusual, almost pious and pure sound for 1984. While the style and production of their first two singles have hugely influenced others since, this kind of vast, expansive feel – like a church hall musical recital happening without the vicar’s knowledge – was unusual for such a time of noise, paranoia and clutter, and stood out. Most other producers that year would have spotted the clattering scrappiness of the original song and zoomed in on those aspects, probably with a Fairlight’s dramatic samples if they could afford one. Watts avoids that temptation and produces something clean and angelic, even if it has absolutely no right to be.

“Kangaroo” loses none of its oddness in the process, sounding like a nightmare you end up half-believing you might have lived through yourself - something that felt OK in the dream, but only because you were too anaesthetised to notice everyone’s piercing stares around you. Not having heard of Big Star is, after all, not the biggest faux pas you can make at a party.

New Entries Elsewhere In The Chart


14. Omega Tribe - It's a hard life (Corpus Christi)

Peak position: 12

A blink-and-its-over raid on the Powerpop store, “It’s A Hard Life” has become a strangely neglected 45 despite (or because of?) its cold war partytime thrills. It sounds like the kind of single Creation Records wanted to put out in 1984, but couldn’t get the necessary ink on the contract for (or barmat, or back of the envelope, or whatever McGee was using for legal procedures at this time).

Omega Tribe hadn’t been given to such jauntiness in the past, producing anarcho-punk singles which were chaotically ambitious and unforgivingly harsh. “Hard Life” leans more towards the Buzzcocks, Undertones and Ramones end of the punk spectrum, though, and while it’s not as surprising as some of their other work, it’s still damn good.

While the group remained a presence on the live circuit, this was to be their last single of the decade.




26. The X-Men - Do The Ghost (Creation)

Peak position: 26

And if Omega Tribe sound like a group who might have been on Creation, The X-Men sound closer to a gabble of Cramps fans who might have found a home on Crass Records or even No Future. Make it all make sense please.

The group’s dalliance with Creation was admittedly brief – a couple of singles then out – but The X-Men nonetheless forged a bit of an impression at the time. “Do The Ghost” is all thrashy, underproduced camp horror, like a trip to the seaside funfair with Jello Biafra. It manages to find the spirit of rock and roll somewhere among the hard beach pebbles, but is ultimately a little bit too daft for its own good.




28. Red Guitars - Marimba Jive (Red Rhino)

Peak position: 2

1984’s great IPC hopes The Red Guitars returned with a slice of African influenced pop. Not only was this released significantly before such ideas began to gain commercial currency, its exotic post-punk jive predated all kinds of early 21st Century alt-pop goings on.

All of this would count for nought if the song was crap, of course, but its superb; forward thinking and insistent, and invigorating in the way the best indie-dance records are. The fact The Red Guitars never became at least a minor pop force in the mid-eighties is a shocking aberration. As consolation prize, though, “Marimba Jive” did manage two weeks at the top of the MRIB indie chart in November.




29. The Prisoners – Electric Fit EP (Big Beat)

Peak position: 29


30. Zos Kia - Rape (All the Madmen)


Peak position: 30

(It almost feels unnecessary to give a trigger warning for this one – the title says it all – but consider yourself told)


Week Two


23. Chakk - Out of the Flesh (Double Vision)

Peak position: 4

Chakk counted Mark Brydon among their members and while they may have made less historically significant noise than other Sheffield groups, their fortunes altered the city; as soon as MCA signed them for an impressive £100k, they poured the cash into building Fon Studios, thereby creating an affordable and accessible recording space for bands like Hula, Cabaret Voltaire, Krush and even Pulp.

“Out Of The Flesh” is another piece of busy post-punk funk in an era which was awash with such recordings, but clearly has commerciality on its side. It may stutter and pinball off at lots of different angles, but that steady, throbbing bass and driving rhythm was likely to appeal to the suburban disco kids as well as Peel listeners. It’s no wonder MCA were keen.




Week Three


23. Hard Corps - Dirty (Survival)

Peak position: 16

Hard Corps were a Brixton based synthpop group who were surprisingly unsuccessful given the career arc others of a similar bent experienced. The fact their style leaned towards harder and more industrial rhythms and shied away from melodic pop choruses almost certainly created issues; “Dirty” is closer to Fad Gadget than Depeche Mode.

They did eventually go on to support Depeche on their 1988 UK tour, though, but by then it was too late in the day to push them above ground.




Week Four


15. M.D.C. - Chicken Squawk (Crass)

Peak position: 15

MDC – otherwise known as Millions of Dead Children or Millions of Dead Cops depending on their mood – are an American hardcore punk band who remain active to this day, pushing radical politics into clubs and barrooms everywhere.

That “Chicken Squawk” was released by Crass’s label in the UK should be no big surprise, as it’s a punkified hoedown promoting vegetarianism. “I don't take orders from Colonel Sanders/ Do you?” the group ask while bouncing almost joyously. I wonder if this track influenced the Quorn adverts that emerged on television during the product’s launch?




19. Marc Riley & The Creepers - ​Peel Session (In Tape)

Peak position: 14


23. The Vibes - Can You Feel EP (Big Beat)

Peak position: 23


27. Yeah Yeah Noh – Beware The Weakling Lines (In Tape)

Peak position: 10


The intriguing nature of both the band’s name and the song’s title sparked my curiosity as a kid – odd band names and song titles were a dime a dozen in 1984, but this lot seemed as if they might be either excruciatingly silly or unexpectedly profound.

As it happens, it’s really the former, lo-fi daffiness and pre-C86 budget price guitar jangles dominate a confusing array of observational lyrics about fruit machines, space invaders and football scores. Like Half Man Half Biscuit in draft form, the track sounds tailor-made for John Peel and indeed enjoyed a number of enthusiastic plays on his radio show.




30. Judie Tzuke - You (Legacy)

Peak position: 28

One of the peculiarities of the independent sector is the way it acted as a safety net for the music press heroes who found themselves out of contract (be they Robert Wyatt or Tom Robinson) as much as new acts who were stumbling their way towards something approaching success. There are moments where it feels like a bunch of naive fumblers were on their way up while slick, seasoned performers slid downwards.

Tzuke had shown incredible promise in the seventies and had a sizeable hit on Elton John’s Rocket label with “Stay With Me Til Dawn” in 1979 (a central track on the ultimate “late evening taxi ride” K-tel compilation “Night Moves”).

Despite managing to score numerous top twenty albums in the following decade, major labels began to get antsy about her modest contributions to their balance sheet, and cottage industry Legacy – not to be confused with the Sony sub-label of the same name – picked her (and other contemporary adult artists such as Sad Cafe and Roy Wood) up.

“You” didn’t revive her fortunes, but seems like something of a concerted effort to modernise her sound. It has the same busy, itchy activity typical of a lot of synth-driven eighties pop, and is unmistakeably influenced by Eurythmics. Sadly, it sounds like that group at their most spiky and awkward rather than blissful and chartbound, and Tzuke would remain ensconced in the mid-range of the album chart and nowhere to be seen in the Woolworths 45s racks.




Week Five


13. The Orson Family – The Sweetest Embrace (Orson ​Enterprises)

Peak position: 13

A rare example of a fairly major indie single from a cultishly successful act which has completely disappeared from all streaming services and YouTube. If anybody wants to do the honours, I’d be enormously grateful.


15. The Men They Couldn't Hang - Green Fields of France (No Man's Land) (Demon)

Peak position: 6

The Men were positioned by critics as being something akin to an English Pogues, combining folk songs with a punk sensibility. While there are similarities between the two groups, “Green Fields” displays a much more sombre and reflective mood. Indeed, the group’s most successful songs recalled historical events, like a bunch of herberts raised on Al Stewart albums.

This cover of Eric Bogle’s 1976 song “No Man’s Land” is a touching but sandpaper rough protest against the futility of World War I, and it managed to find a far bigger audience than most folk artists in 1984, setting the band up for an eventual major label deal.




16. Foetus Art Terrorism - A Calamity Crush (Some Bizzare)

Peak position: 7


20. Pauline Murray and the Storm - Holocaust (Polestar)

Peak position: 6

Pauline Murray always felt like one of the more luckless punks – despite her Virgin contract and a prominent presence as the movement took hold, none of her singles (even the forceful “Don’t Dictate”) charted and she ended up a cult artist rather than a significant figure.

As such, she finds herself alongside Judie Tzuke in the indie charts, both doing very different things but having hit similar chapters in their careers. In a fitting bit of synchronicity, “Holocaust” was originally written by Alex Chilton and also found a place on Big Star’s third album, which begs the question of what the fuck was in the air (and everyone’s record collections) in 1984.

The original version is a spindly, shaky piano ballad, whereas Murray’s cover is spring wound and synthesised, pepping up the misery with washed-out plastic jauntiness. It’s a brave attempt, but really not as effective as the single sitting at number one.




25. Hurrah! - Who'd Have Thought (Kitchenware)

Peak position: 17

Magic early indiepop enters the fray. “Who’d Have Thought” has the kind of celebratory edge which would later catapult independent groups towards soundtracking the goals of the weekend on the football highlights coverage, but in 1984 they had to make do with evening radio plays instead.




29. New York Dolls - Pills (Fan Club)

Peak position: 28


30. Furyo – Furioso (Anagram)

Peak position: 30


Week Six


5. The Meteors - I'm Just a Dog (Mad Pig)


Peak position: 3


It’s hard to know what more to say about The Meteors. Looking back at their career in 2025 feels like viewing trad rock and roll through two lenses at once, both the revival and the original fifties explosion, and whenever I try to get my head stuck into the idea I begin to feel dizzy.

Suffice to say that “I’m Just A Dog” jumps, jives and screams, and does a perfectly fine job of all three things. What’s fascinating about the psychobilly scene during this period is how much of its essence is/was shared by skiffle – Joe Meek would have loved The Meteors as much as eighties cowpunks did, though even he would have pepped their raw recordings up with a few flourishes. “Dog” ends up being so threadbare and retro that even late fifties producers would have deemed it significantly behind the curve.




14. Play Dead - Propaganda (Jungle)

Peak position: 13


24. Alien Sex Fiend - E.S.T. (Trip To The Moon) (Anagram)

Peak position: 3


29. New Model Army - The Price/1984 (Abstract)


Peak position: 2

I swear I haven’t listened to this one in at least 30 years, but as soon as I began to play it again the whole lot flooded back to me again – the pulsing drama, the creeping intrigue. “The Price” isn’t as strident as much of New Model Army’s work, instead painting a riddle of regret about love and betrayal. What really went on? We only have this excerpt, and its a much more haunting effort than you’d expect from a group who usually tended to favour directness.




For the full charts, go over to the UKMix forums

Number Ones In The Official Charts


Stevie Wonder - "I Just Called To Say I Love You" (Motown)
Wham! - "Freedom" (Epic)
Chaka Khan - "I Feel For You" (Warner Bros)



No comments:

Post a Comment