Screen Idols - Something's Gotten Hold Of My Heart/ Runaway

Ex-Spiders From Mars and Rats From Hull types get a hold of Pitney

Label: Parlophone

Year of Release: 1980

After David Bowie "broke up the band" in 1973, The Spiders From Mars didn't all just drift away to new projects. It's often forgotten that a Mick Ronson-less version of the outfit emerged on Pye Records in 1975, with Trevor Bolder and Mick Woodmansey recruiting Mike Garson, Dave Black and Pete McDonald to their ranks. It's tempting to regard this version of the group as a cash-in on the famous name rather than a bona-fide continuation, and it has to be said that the debut 45 "White Man Black Man" bears about as much relation to the Ziggy Stardust sound as Gilbert O'Sullivan does to Roxy Music. It's seventies pop, not glam rock, and not even a very credible brand name could push it over the commercial line. 

One flop LP later and the group drifted off in their different directions. Drummer Woodmansey got together with his his ex-Rats bandmates Ched Cheeseman and Geoff Appleby and ex-Lone Star member Tony Smith to form this outfit with singer Michelle Nieddu. Screen Idols were occasionally badged as New Wave, but this was probably wishful thinking on the part of their PR officer whether he meant punk-tinged pop or the New Wave of British Heavy Metal - the reality is that they played powerful pop rock tracks with a slightly modern edge, Nieddu's vocals rasping forcefully over the top of the group's hard, confident sound. 

For whatever reason, they couldn't seem to settle with one label. Their debut single "Blind Man" came out on Cobra in 1979 (along with their LP "Premiere"), followed by "Routine" on Superstition in 1980 and then finally this effort on Parlophone, which had a cover of the Cook and Greenaway classic "Something's Gotten Hold Of My Heart" as its A-side. Much has been written about the track in the past, acknowledging the fact that while the dependable and family-friendly performer Gene Pitney popularised it, the lyrics appeared to be acknowledging psychedelia. Could "Something has invaded my life/ painting my sleep with a colour so bright" have been a nod to the folks who had turned on and tuned in from one of the songwriters who would eventually write the British Gas jingle? It's unlikely, but the fact that it could be just as easily interpreted as a ballad to mind expansion is an interesting coincidence.

The Screen Idols, of course, resist the temptation to convince 1980 audiences that this was far out and leave the mellotron and the theremin well and truly locked in the recording studio cupboard. Their take on the track is instead a thumping anthem which takes it in a new and unexpected direction. It's doubtful you'll prefer it to Pitney's take or indeed the version Pitney and Marc Almond would end up taking to number one (also on Parlophone, interestingly) in 1989, but it points towards fresh possibilities for the track.

Slade Brothers - What A Crazy Life/ For A Rainy Day

The Canuck duo with their final stab at UK chart success

Label: Pye

Year of Release: 1966

We've already talked about The Slade Brothers' unusual beginnings in British showbiz the last time we met them in November 2018. While I've occasionally wondered about the veracity of the claim that their career was kickstarted after a chance meeting with Joan Collins' father on a Liverpool-bound ship, I suppose stranger things have happened; the unexpected chart success of the "One Pound Fish" market crier for one thing.

While Pye must surely have been tempted to give up on the pair before the point of this final release, "What A Crazy Life" actually seems to evidence one enthusiastic last try at pushing them over the line. It's actually a strong composition from the bankable Cook and Greenaway songwriting team, and earned them airplay on Radio Luxembourg and releases around the world. Its production is also considerably less threadbare than some of their earlier singles, with a flowery and stomping Johnny Harris orchestral arrangement beneath the boys. 

For me, though, the beauty is on the flipside which has been even more ignored over the years. "For A Rainy Day" is penned by the duo and it shows they were able to write complex, intriguing songs which were head and shoulders above a lot of the pop pack. With swelling organs, pinging harpsichords, and subtle, shifting moods throughout, it actually resembles the likes of The Mamas and Papas at their finest, transporting a West Coast mood to a drizzly British shore. It's astonishing this one seemingly hasn't been compiled somewhere yet - it's a prime candidate for a "Tea, Battenburgs and Baroque" styled LP (Don't go looking for that compilation, by the way - it doesn't exist). It's also one of the most appropriately Autumnal songs I could find for a current blog entry.

Young and Renshaw - High Flyin' Bird/ Driftwood

Future Sad Cafe star in early southern rock styled duo

Label: Bell

Year of Release: 1971

The sheer number of early seventies UK flops with a distinct southern USA twang to their sound suggests a lot of musicians and record labels backed the wrong horse. While it may have seemed as if that harmonica honking, swampy bluesy southern rock sound would be irresistible to the British and would sweep the charts quicker than you could say "Lynyrd Skynyrd", it wasn't such big news here. 

"High Flyin' Bird" is yet another piece of confident, stomping rock from a pair of British musicians who had already received quite a bit of airplay (but no sales) from their previous 45 "Way Up There". It has a shedload of attitude and lyrics which clearly ponder vast open plains and mountainous ranges, which is rather deceptive - neither (Paul) Young or (Frank) Renshaw would have had much experience of these things; coming from Manchester, it didn't really apply. That doesn't stop them from selling the idea with gusto, though, with the help of Mr Cook and Mr Greenaway in the producer's hot seat(s).

The pair released a further single ("Gonna See Delaney Again") and an album ("This Is Young and Renshaw") but packed it in shortly afterwards when neither sold well. For Chris Morris lookalike Paul Young, it ended up becoming a bit of a career footnote, as he shaved off his moustache and ended up fronting Sad Cafe, scoring a brace of hits in the UK in the process. Sadly, he passed away in 2000, leaving perhaps one of the biggest rock ballads of the seventies to remember him by - someone, somewhere is probably listening to "Every Day Hurts" on a commercial oldies station or on a late night taxi journey as we speak. His service in the supergroup Mike and The Mechanics has also left its own indelible ink stain on rock history.