Three weeks at number one from 19th March 1988
Sometimes – often, in fact – I find myself wondering what “pop music” is, and what the word really means. If you want to be blandly factual about it, it just means “popular”; so one week pop music could mean Laurie Anderson’s “O Superman”, the next “I Should Be So Lucky” (XTC’s single “This Is Pop” seems to favour that notion). On the other hand, if you want to get scientific and separate the concept away from freak breakout Death Metal hits, there’s probably something to be said about the fluency of the melodic formation, about how strictly the song keeps to agreed time signatures or templates, rather than pulling them to pieces like the excesses of prog or jazz.
Our last entry on Bomb The Bass’s “Beat Dis” did find me asking a few questions, I must admit. While Tim Simenon is hardly Miles Davis, that single does sound like the audio equivalent of a hyperactive but purposeful man throwing paint at a canvas, using repetition to an extent, understanding symmetry, knowing what he wants to get at the end of it, but eschewing ideas like verses, choruses and middle eights for a free-form splurge over a hooky groove. Is THAT pop? Well, it earned a silver disc and was inescapable for the whole year, which is more than “O Superman” managed, and yes, I instinctively understood it as a teen – but it doesn’t adhere to “the rules”.
The indie charts are supposed to be the place where rules go out of the window and innovators can experiment in their labs before the better ones are poached by a major label. The problem here is, things are unpopular or marginal for all kinds of reasons, and that can be because they’re difficult to immediately understand, far too ahead of their time or, actually, rooted so far behind in the past that they may feel antiquated. Until 1988, when the tide began to turn, I would argue that the indie listings have often been surprisingly anachronistic in nature; the retirement home for fading sub-genres, owing obvious debts to punk, psychedelia, sixties pop, and even folk.
The Wedding Present are an interesting case in point. When they first emerged, the music press did not describe them as forward thinkers, but a glorious return to pre-eighties values – of “buzzsaw” guitars, pop-punk melodies, realistic, earthy home-spun truths of love affairs gone awry set to a melodic thrash. The only way the group were ever aligned with any projected future was by being feted as “the next Smiths”, with David Gedge cast as some kind of Agony Uncle for heartbroken youths everywhere.
This needn’t necessarily be a problem. From skiffle onwards, pop music history has been littered with traditionalists leaning on the stylings found in old songbooks. It can be a serious disadvantage when there’s an absence of commerciality, though - when they started, The Wedding Present created a fierce racket, but didn’t really seem like keen respecters of the big chorus, instead favouring the brooding, repetitive refrain.
By the time “Nobody’s Twisting Your Arm” was released, that situation was corrected. From start to finish, this single absolutely fizzes with memorable melodies as well as unforgettably barbed lyrics – the opening lines “And when I called your house/ I’m sure your sister thought that I was somebody else” feels like something from a daytime soap; almost comedic from one angle, but harshly relatable if you’ve ever experienced similar indignities. The lyrics intertwine with a tune which is fast and furious, but beneath the stroppiness lies a melody Pete Waterman wouldn’t have cocked a snook at.
That sense only gets stronger when the chorus lands, which continues the lyrical homeliness, but punches far beyond that with something which could have been from a mid-80s pop hit, if only the group had dispensed with those guitars and invested in a Roland synth and a drum machine. It’s not a million miles from a prime Motown era track in its pure rush of heartbreak and dismissal, Gedge donning a Diana Ross wig and marching off away from his tormentor like a man who knows his true worth (and it doesn’t depend on settling for being second best). Or perhaps it’s something else – maybe “Nobody’s Twisting Your Arm” is, in a sense, “I Will Survive” for indie karaoke blokes everywhere. Nobody, to the best of my knowledge, has released an electropop cover of this record, but I’ve always wanted them to.
In case anyone felt it was in danger of being too blokey, however, Amelia Fletcher of Talulah Gosh features prominently on vocals throughout, adding an effective harmony and perspective to remind us that many a woman has also phoned up a boyfriend’s house only to be given unsubtle hints by their sibling.
While it was never going to be a proper hit in 1988 due to its sheer radio-unfriendly guitar dependency, it nonetheless broke new ground for the band, reaching number 46 in the National Charts on their own label. A professional promo video was swiftly arranged, featuring them larking about with balloons and Gedge walking backwards across a busy London bridge, and the whole thing almost seemed cheerful. Yet why not? While there’s the lingering sense that Gedge might be protesting too much, it’s probably the first single of theirs to feel strangely victorious; here, he is cast not as the put-upon dope, but the one putting an end to the nonsense in his life. If it weren’t for the overwhelming and ever-dour Gedgeness about the thing, you could almost imagine him meeting another woman that evening in a nightclub.
All was not necessarily running smoothly among the group, however. “Nobody’s Twisting Your Arm” was the final single to feature Shaun Charman on drums, who pounds away particularly forcefully on this track. He was apparently dismissed due to personal rather than musical differences – the aftermath of this event caused lots of outraged spluttering in the fanzines of the period, with Charman apparently feeling very suddenly abandoned by not just his band, but his friends and social circle. So began the first of many line-up changes within the group, and the sense that The Wedding Present were not so much a solid unit, as Gedge plus his employees. This is a charge which is thrown at them less frequently than The Fall, but nonetheless a total of 25 musicians have worked their way through the group at the time of writing, suggesting that Gedge does subscribe to a similar employment method to Smith.
During 1988, though, things seemed rosy for the rest of the band. From marginal concerns to next big things, the band’s growth defied any predictions anyone might have made for them at the start. No wonder Gedge was leaving his lovers with his head held high. He may as well have left them a note in the post too – “I hope you realise you’ve cheated on the man the NME are calling the next Morrissey?”
New Entries Elsewhere In The Charts
Week One
5. The Soup Dragons - The Majestic Head (Raw TV)
Peak position: 2
The Soups may well have been looking on at The Wedding Present with envy – they too had been penning Buzzcocks inspired love songs and had been deemed frontrunners for an eventual Top 40 placing, but had found themselves being outpaced.
Unlike their 1987 singles, “The Majestic Head” failed to enter the National Top 75 and a fresh listen suggests why: This is the first release of theirs to sound confused and unsteady, aiming for the solstice moon but landing by the bins in a back alley next to the local bong shop instead. It inexplicably opens with a string section before landing on threatening, walloping guitar sounds for no reason, before its West Coast inspired chorus topples into punkish, grinding verses, like Parma Violets tossed into the middle of a bacon sandwich.
Overwhelmingly, it sounds as if the group had lost all sense of who they wanted to be and “Majestic Head” sees us meeting them at a crossroads. The song contains double-entendres about penises and that might actually be the most enduring memory you’ll have of it come tomorrow. A shame.
10. The Brilliant Corners - Teenage (MacQueen)
Peak position: 7
But it was business as usual for The Brilliant Corners, who return to the lyrical atmosphere of "Brian Rix" by singing about teenage lust going horribly, horribly wrong. "I'd like to make your bed and bring you cups of tea/ To wash your clothes and scrub your back/ But you won't let me!" wails Davey. What was wrong with the lad?
Complete with an almost sarcastic, mocking muted trumpet solo, "Teenage" occupies an awkward halfway house between the jangle of The Smiths and the mocking acidity of Half Man Half Biscuit, and if some people considered the group to be having a laugh at their expense, that's possibly not too surprising. Despite that, their gift with pop melodies was often above and beyond many of their peers, and they possessed a longevity that many of their Indiepop chums didn't. This would allow them to continue releasing singles until as late as 1990, though by that point the fire had largely been snuffed out.
The Brilliant Corners feature irritatingly infrequently on retrospective indie compilations these days, which ignores the pulling power they had at the tail end of the eighties.
Peak position: 7
But it was business as usual for The Brilliant Corners, who return to the lyrical atmosphere of "Brian Rix" by singing about teenage lust going horribly, horribly wrong. "I'd like to make your bed and bring you cups of tea/ To wash your clothes and scrub your back/ But you won't let me!" wails Davey. What was wrong with the lad?
Complete with an almost sarcastic, mocking muted trumpet solo, "Teenage" occupies an awkward halfway house between the jangle of The Smiths and the mocking acidity of Half Man Half Biscuit, and if some people considered the group to be having a laugh at their expense, that's possibly not too surprising. Despite that, their gift with pop melodies was often above and beyond many of their peers, and they possessed a longevity that many of their Indiepop chums didn't. This would allow them to continue releasing singles until as late as 1990, though by that point the fire had largely been snuffed out.
The Brilliant Corners feature irritatingly infrequently on retrospective indie compilations these days, which ignores the pulling power they had at the tail end of the eighties.
11. The Flatmates – Shimmer (Subway)
Peak position: 2
‘Shimmer” is probably The Flatmates finest single, opening with whinnying, unsteady feedback before charging headlong into butchered guitar riffs and stroppy, defiant female vocals laying down the law to an unwanted boyfriend.
“Business as usual”, you might think, but “Shimmer” actually has a pop tune which wouldn’t have been out of place on Decca in 1965 – when indie groups claim to be getting back to classic girl group songwriting, this is the kind of sound they intend to reach for but normally land way short of, the melodies here actually shooting far beyond their sandpaper surroundings. It’s always a joy to return to.
12. Wire - Kidney Bingos (Mute)
Peak position: 3
Wire’s "The Ideal Copy" in 1987 was a fine comeback album, but 1988's "A Bell Is A Cup... Until It Is Struck" built on the template further and completed the metamorphosis. Tight, precise percussion met chiming guitars and cryptic lyrics, and another under-rated phase of their career began.
Always art-punks with the emphasis leaning heaviest on "art" (they were acquainted with Brian Eno before a proper punk scene even really broke) Wire were never afraid to be obtuse, and "Kidney Bingos" is probably one of the finest and most developed but potentially confusing singles they ever released. For years I falsely believed that the lyrics were created from cut-ups of tabloid newspaper headlines - the band have since revealed that it was actually about members of the public entering a national Bingo competition to win transplants on a denationalised, privatised health service. The satirical idea here seemingly is that you can dupe the public into voting for any repugnant idea and even have them enjoying it if you’re persuasive enough (Nigel Farage is probably taking notes as we speak). "Kidney Bingos/ Organ Fun!" Colin Newman coos melodically in the chorus, selling it to maximum effect.
The central chiming riff and melody here are so sweet and seductive that the song actually is a beautiful piece of work on its own terms, whatever the underlying meaning. There's a depth here that keeps drawing you back, with each guitar line and atmospheric wash having its own appeal (and the outro in particular taking its own seductive "high high high/ low" path).
That their eighties work is so often ignored is criminal. This single is a finely sculpted jewel, and should be near the top of anyone's Wire listening list.
15. Danielle Dax – The Janice Long Session (Strange Fruit)
Peak position: 15
16. The Seers - Lightning Strikes (Rough Trade)
Peak position: 15
If The Smiths “Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One Before” had to be removed from release due to its passing reference to planning a mass murder, you’ve got to wonder what the BBC made of a record actually about the Hungerford massacre. Not that The Seers approved of Michael Ryan’s behaviour, but “Lightning Strikes” is nonetheless a bit unsubtle in its aims – “Just not a problem here/ not like in the USA” they sing ironically, but you can almost see a finger being wagged in front of your face.
The Seers evoke memories of The Clash at their most obvious while also stringing together pretty but muddy melodies. This would see them feted as being potential front-runners for awhile, but despite prominent press and festival bookings, they remained a cult concern.
25. The Vaselines - Dying For It (53rd & 3rd)
Peak position: 14
The Vaselines couldn't be talked about at a later date without being tagged as "one of Kurt Cobain's favourite bands". He certainly owned a copy of this - on the flipside are two tracks, "Molly's Lips" and "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam", which would later be covered by Nirvana.
"Dying For It" is certainly the most full-on of all the choices available, being distorted and throttling as opposed to twee indie-pop. Once again, it's proof that whatever C86 did or didn't do, it certainly can't be blamed for encouraging a sea of jangly bands to emerge over the hills - the harder, rougher edges of it actually inspired emerging grunge bands too.
Eugene Kelly has gone on record as saying that they've "never made any money except for Nirvana royalties" which have allowed him to obtain a mortgage. Perhaps more successful groups should cover the work of underground artists they admire.
26. Hitmasters - SAWMix 1 (Beat Box)
Peak position: 26
Well, look at that. Not only were Stock Aitken Waterman records getting into the indie charts, but their actual imitators were too. This is a session musician performed approximation of their biggest moments wrapped up into one medley – very much inspired by Mirage’s hits of the time.
The man behind Hitmasters was the strangely named Rod Gammons, who had previously worked with Bronski Beat and Eartha Kitt and would eventually produce Carol Kenyon, Was (Not Was), Mark Morrison, Roachford and Liberty X. It’s safe to say he probably doesn’t highlight this one on his CV.
Week Two
19. The Chesterfields - Goodbye Goodbye (Hold it)
Peak position: 12
As 1988 progressed, indiepop bands generally seemed to be on borrowed time, no longer getting bungs from major labels to join their boutique subsidiary imprints, nor really getting the levels of press they’d previously enjoyed.
The groups on Sarah, 53rd and 3rd and Subway had a devoted underground audience of fanzine readers to delight. The more polished groups, on the other hand, like Mighty Mighty, The Soup Dragons, and The Chesterfields were left with a stark choice – either lean into the “pop” side of your sound more, change tack completely, or go home.
“Goodbye Goodbye” is probably The Chesterfields most polished single yet, filled with brassy flourishes, Carpenters influences, and that steady, trebly jangle combined with a surprising array of hooks. It kept their heads above water for a bit, and they were ultimately one of the more enduring groups of the set, having indie chart entries until the tail end of the decade. Never would they truly be serious contenders beyond that, though.
25. The Darling Buds - Shame On You (Native)
Peak position: 2
Ah memories, misty water coloured memories, of the way we were... while their debut single “If I Said” went almost unnoticed on release in 1987, “Shame On You” lit the fuse and almost immediately, The Darling Buds became a huge press deal. Bursting out of Newport way before Cool Cymru was dreamt up, and fronted by the very blonde and pretty Andrea Lewis with the moody, smouldering Harley Farr on guitar, they looked the part, sounded spiky and could clearly pen a catchy ditty. Surely they would become massive?
We’ll have more chances to answer that question, obviously, but for the time being “Shame On You” is sharp and spiky, even if it offers very little to set the group apart from the The Flatmates and Primitives of this world aside from presentation. It zips along in one almighty rush and Andrea’s vocals are both charming and scolding – “Of all the things you could have said/ you had to say ‘let’s go to bed’” she snaps – though unlike Gedge, she doesn’t delve into specificities beyond that, keeping the lyrical brush broad and sloppy.
It’s impossible not to admire the track's sheer driving force and sassiness, and it wasn’t even their best shot - they had better tracks up their sleeves, albeit none which would ever push them into the frontline of pop.
27. Gene & Jim - Shake! (How About A Sampling Gene?) (Rough Trade)
Peak position: 12
Here we go again with possibly one of the most egregious examples of samplemania, even boasting about its overload in the title. This was a big Ibiza spin at the time, but its tomfoolery feels strangely dated now - the initial vinyl samples are charming and wouldn't be out of place on an Avalanches record, but the "Batcave" elements are yet another daft nod to Saturday children's television and make little sense in 2026.
The guitar noises and cries of "Shake!" also feel jarring and out of place, as if a local rock band have wandered in from next door to interrupt rather than contribute, and end up competing with an onslaught of anything and everything else. If it felt new and exciting at the time, it's arguably because it was (though only just) and there are moments where the track truly starts to feel propulsive rather than confusing and "random", but they happen fleetingly.
The video, meanwhile, has shades of Shoreditch hipsterism about it, which gives me pause for thought about how many of those elements were actually birthed in the late eighties. Sartorially at least, and with their vinyl buying habits, the pair were clearly ahead of the pack.
Gene (Noakes) and Jim (Cunningham) would later pen the track “Nothing Comes For Nothing” for the poster-boy duo Yell! in 1992 which is a far cry from this sort of carry-on.
Week Three
18. Into A Circle - Evergreen (Abstract)
Peak position: 7
The final single for mildly gothy duo Into A Circle who had been hanging around the upper edges of the indie charts for years by this point, but never quite finding their breakthrough moment.
“Evergreen” perhaps came the closest, its dourness and regret combining with some particularly lilting, intricate guitar lines, making them sound like one of the few artists who might have actually learned something from Felt. Lawrence’s pal Rose McDowall of Strawberry Switchblade also features, adding high breathy lines which add to the sense of intrigue.
It’s a lingering mood rather than a hard-hitting single, though, and in a similar fashion to Felt, the group were ignored by John Peel.
25. Red Lorry Yellow Lorry - Nothing Wrong (Situation Two)
Peak position: 9
29. Bam Bam - Give It To Me (Serious)
Peak position: 23
Pioneering Acid House track from Chris Westbrook aka Bam Bam, created using a TB-303 purchased from Marshall Jefferson. “Give It To Me” contains the orgasmic groans, ecstatic demands and twittering vigour of a great many of the singles that followed it, and was a huge, groundbreaking single despite its lack of presence outside of clubland at the time.
Number Ones In The National Charts
Kylie Minogue: "I Should Be So Lucky" (PWL)
Aswad: "Don't Turn Around" (Mango/ Island)
What a single! The 12" had two fantastic b-sides (Don't Laugh and I'm Not Always So Stupid) and the just-ok Nothing Comes Easy. This one proved tricky to source and was constantly sold out in Dublin's indie shops and HMV / Virgin. I didn't get a copy until July 1988.
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