Two-Fer-Tuesday: Steve Lillywhite

My apologies for the delay in posting this, but there was a last-minute change in plans – a happy change in plans, as it turns out, because it directly relates to my radio show tomorrow (Wednesday at 10 a.m. Eastern Time) on Orchard Radio.

I've decided to devote a full hour to music produced by Steve Lillywhite – one of the most influential music producers of the last 30 years, but also one of the most controversial in several cases.

The songs showcased in today's post are Lillywhite at his best – and perhaps his worst. And they both came out in the same year: 1983.

We start off with The Crossing (1983), Big Country's first and still most successful LP. To be sure, former Skids guitarist Stuart Adamson had a lot to do with developing the Scottish band's unique bagpipe-style guitar playing. But you have to give a lot of credit to Lillywhite, particularly on the last song of the first side "The Storm."

Play "The Storm" by Big Country

While "In a Big Country" gets most of the attention, this is the song where Big Country should have earned most of its plaudits. Moody and atmospheric like the Scottish moors it is supposed to evoke, the song is an epic composition that receives just the right touch from Lillywhite. He knows when to go all out and when to simply pull back to let the song speak for itself.

Later in that same year, Lillywhite crossed the Atlantic to work with singer/songwriter Marshall Crenshaw, whose debut 1982 album had garnered critical raves and surprising amount of popularity on the burgeoning college radio scene. (He even managed to hit the Billboard Top 40 with "Someday Someway"). Many were anticipating great things from Crenshaw.

Instead of sticking with 60s traditionalist Richard Gottehrer, whose cleaner sound had been featured on Crenshaw debut and had also helped The Go-Go's reach the top, Crenshaw tapped Lillywhite and his denser sound. To many, it was a huge mistake. Crenshaw's hooks and lyrics got lost in the murkiness of the production of Lillywhite, who the following year would almost bury Jim Kerr's vocals in the many layers of Simple Minds' Sparkle in the Rain (1984). The album's lead-off track "Whenever You're On Mind" should and could have been a bigger hit than it was. It is one of the most beautiful pop songs ever, but a crisper sound probably would have made it more palatable on the airwaves

Here's one of the songs from Field Day I'll be featuring on Wednesday's show:

Play "Hold It" by Marshall Crenshaw

Time has been kinder to this record as it has passed. Robert Christgau gives Field Day a rare "A+" based not only Crenshaw's superior songwriting, but his quick maturity as an artist. The fact is, Crenshaw never was interested in letting his first LP turn him into someone whose records would be blaring out of every dorm room. As subsequent releases have shown, Crenshaw is still a pop musician – but he's a serious one interested in setting his own path. And that path doesn't include selling out concert halls and landing all of his CDs on the Billboard charts. I still wish that Lillywhite hadn't produced this record, but I now understand why Crenshaw made the choice that he did.

Soundtrack Sunday: "Local Hero" (1983)

In between releasing Love Over Gold (1982) and the best-selling Brothers in Arms (1985), Dire Straits leader Mark Knopfler found ways to keep himself busy without his band.

Sort of.

Because Knopfler's first soundtrack – and still the most beloved in many circles – is essentially a Dire Straits album. One track, "Freeway Flyer," includes the entire band except for drummer Pick Withers. And keyboardist Alan Clark actually plays on more tracks than Knopfler.

I love the movie (I'll get into that later). And I love the soundtrack. It was an essential study aid during my college years. It's a relaxing mix. But not so relaxing that it makes you stupid, like so much of what was being defined as New Age music back then.

For today's post, I want to focus on two tracks from the soundtrack. Which is, by the way, not billed as a soundtrack. It's called "Local Hero: Music by Mark Knopfler" But that's a misnomer. This is no "Music Inspired by…" (Yes, I'm looking at you, Jay Z) album. All the songs are featured in the movie and are essential in terms of establishing the film's overall mood.

The first track is the only one on the album to feature vocals: "The Way It Always Starts." And it's not Knopfler who sings, but Gerry Rafferty. Yes, the same guy from "Baker Street" and "Stuck in the Middle." It's a beautiful song that benefits from Rafferty's mellifluous voice perfectly blending with Knopfler's crisp guitar playing and Clark's airy keyboards. If this was released in the mellow 70s, this would have been a No. 1 hit. for sure.

Play "The Way It Always Starts"

But that was not Warner Brothers choice as the album's (only) single. The peculiar selection instead was the movie's theme song, "Going Home: Theme of the Local Hero", which is also a very solid tune and one that Knopfler still plays at concerts. But the song lasts nearly five minutes – and the first half of it consists of Knopfler and Clark aimlessly trading riffs. I mean, did Warner Brothers think this was when the DJ was supposed to give the weather and traffic reports? When the song finally kicks in, it's the late Michael Brecker who puts the song into high gear with a killer sax solo. Oh, and by the way the great Tony Levin (ex of King Crimson) plays bass.

Play "Going Home: Theme of the Local Hero"

Back to the movie: If you haven't ever seen it, I highly recommend it. It still remains one of my top five favorite movies. I mean, what other movie has guys from Animal House and Star Wars cavorting with Burt Lancaster on the Scottish moors? The story is about the owner of a Texas oil company (Lancaster) who sends one of his executives (Peter Riegert, Boon from Animal House) to Scotland to buy up a town where he wants to build an oil platform. The tiny town's defacto leader, a local innkeeper named Gordon Urquhart (Denis Lawson, Wedge Antilles from Star Wars) is only too eager to comply. Then the movie really takes off in unpredictable ways until the unforgettable ending.

Back to the 80's: Elbow Bones and the Racketeers "A Night in New York"

Kid Creole and the Coconuts. Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band.

And Elbow Bones and the Racketeers.

Whatever his moniker, there was no doubt that August Darnell was one of the most colorful characters of the 70s and 80s.

Trying to meld the stylishness of zoot suits and the swing era with the glamorousness and outlandishness of the disco era (and later the garish new wave era), Darnell succeeded in creating a sound that remained unique – at least until David Johansen left his punk roots behind and became Buster Poindexter.

Elbow Bones and the Racketeers were an invention – a side project, if you will, that allowed Darnell to get deeper into the swing era than the goofy tropicalia of Kid Creole allowed. Among others, the group consisted of Darnell, his half-brother Stony Browder Jr. (the original Dr. Savannah), frequent cohort Gichy Dan and singer Stephanie Fuller.

They put out one album in 1983 on EMI and it yielded a sizable dance club hit that lots of people still remember fondly today, "A Night in New York."

Here's the retro-style video, which obviously tries to evoke the old Cotton Club:


And here's the mp3

Play "A Night in New York" by Elbow Bones and the Racketeers.

As a native of the Big Apple, I must admit that this song always gets onto my New York mix tapes more often than the done-to-death "New York New York." Give me this song, "New York State of Mind,""Rockin' Around in N.Y.C." and "New York City (You're a Woman)"and I'm happy. Every time I hear its brass section lift off, I just want to sweep up my wife and dance around the living room.

One complaint: It may be too much to ask for, given Darnell's disco past and the music of the time, but I sure wish the drum machine could have been dumped in the Hudson and the entire rhythm section could have been more organic. Otherwise, it's a little 80s slice of heaven I'll always treasure.

Back to the 80's: Jimmy The Hoover

Where else but in the 80s could Sex Pistols Svengali Malcolm McLaren and Culture Club producer Steve Levine hook up with a group that featured a Zambian bassist?



That's the story of Jimmy The Hoover, a group that had its one and only hit in June 1983 with the infectious "Tantalise (Wo Wo Ee Yeh Yeh)," which hit No. 18 on the charts. Released on the small Innervision label (Wham was once the label's other act), the single was produced by Levine and the band was managed by McLaren, who also thought up the band's name.

Download "Tantalise (Wo Wo Ee Yeh Yeh)" by Jimmy the Hoover

Among the band's members was Flinto Chandia, a Zambian studying in London who met vocalist Derek Dunbar. Dunbar had briefly lived in Zambia while his father worked there. And while he was passionate about punk rock, he apparently didn't bat an eye when Chandia introduced the African sounds such as the box guitar into their jam sessions. Their first record was "Tantalise" and as it was shooting up the charts, Chandia was contacted by British authorities. Because he was a college student from a foreign country, he was not permitted to work in England. So they told him he had to go back to Zambia and apply for a work visa. It was initially refused – and that apparently was the last straw for the band, already rife with internal tensions.

Back in his native land, Chandia turned to sculpture. And apparently he's quite successful.



So there you go. Another story of rock 'n' roll heartache. But this time, it resulted in one of the most unique singles of the 80s. As always, enjoy.