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Tunes

Best tunes of 1991: #30 The Real People “Open up your mind (Let me in)”

#29 >>

We start off this best tunes of 1991 list with a bit of an obscure number: “Open up your mind (Let me in)” by The Real People.

I first heard this song while VCR recording music videos off City Limits, the old late night alternative music show on MuchMusic. This was a regular past time for me and my friend/foster brother Elliott. Every Friday night and into the early hours of Saturday morning, we would be in the basement at the TV, each of us with a video tape at the ready, vying to see who would record the next video for later viewing and reviewing. I can’t remember which of us got this particular video, probably Elliott, but we both loved the song, it fitting in with a lot of the music we were getting into at the time. I never really explored much of their other material until years later, when I found a copy of their self-titled debut in a used CD shop on Queen street in Toronto, but Elliott would get a copy much sooner. I distinctly remember seeing it on his racks within a year or two at most, on a fateful day, later named Tremolo day in infamy (definitely a story for another post), when I stopped by his apartment with Andrew Rodriguez, who had left some stuff there the night before.

The Real People were formed in Liverpool in 1988 by brothers, Chris and Tony Griffiths, and were signed to Columbia a year later. Unfortunately, that aforementioned debut album was their only released long player for the label. They had recorded a sophomore album, from which a couple of singles were released, but the actual album, “Marshmallow lane”, didn’t see the light for over two decades. The brothers continued to be active, however, releasing music independently in the latter 90s and early 00s, and cultivating a healthy cult following in the process. They were also quite instrumental in Oasis’s early years (yes, THAT oasis), helping record and performing on a number of their demos, songs that eventually found their way on a certain “Definitely maybe”.

“Open up your mind (Let me in)” was The Real People’s fourth ever single and second released off their debut. It’s a bit dated now, definitely being of its place and time, but being the nostalgic sort that I am, I still love it to pieces. The drums are baggy acid house and the reverb guitar effects hint at shoegaze. The vocals range from sounding like Bono to The Beatles to Peter Gabriel. It’s a fun and bouncy track and there isn’t anything wrong with that at all. Cheers!

For the rest of the Best tunes of 1991 list, click here.

Categories
Vinyl

Vinyl love: James “Gold mother”

(Vinyl Love is a series of posts that quite simply lists, describes, and displays the pieces in my growing vinyl collection. You can bet that each record was given a spin during the drafting of each corresponding post.)

Artist: James
Album Title: Gold mother
Year released: 1990, 1991
Year reissued: 2017
Details: Double LP, Black vinyl, 180 gram

The skinny: Manchester’s James finally made a name for themselves with this, their third album. Originally released in 1990, it was reissued the following year with a slightly different track listing (and renamed as a self-titled album for the US). This new pressing is a combination of the two versions, featuring all the great and now iconic tunes, such as the one below, “How was it for you?”, “Top of the world”, and both versions of “Come home”.

Standout track: “Sit down”

Categories
Tunes

Best tunes of 1990: #1 Depeche Mode “Personal Jesus”

<< #2

Happy new year all!

I figured the first post of the year was a good time to finish off the first series I started this blog with and this song certainly ends it with a bang. Back at number eleven, I proclaimed “Enjoy the silence” as one of Depeche Mode’s biggest hits. Well, at number one, we have what is surely their biggest: “Personal Jesus”.

And I’m well aware that it was technically released as a single in 1989 but I feel it belongs more in 1990 for two reasons. Number one, it was the cornerstone for their 1990 smash hit, “Violator”, a near perfect album, and touched off a string of great singles and pure magic the band hasn’t been able to replicate. Number two, the use of guitar as primary instrument and the driving force behind the song signalled a turning point, a seismic shift for the group from their new wave/synthpop roots into alternative rock, a path they would tread throughout the 1990s.

By all accounts, the song was inspired by Martin Gore’s reading of Priscilla Presley’s memoirs, “Elvis & me”, and the idea of that when you love someone, that person can be your everything. Another twisted love song then. Gore certainly has strange ideas about love but he’s honest, and this alone, this ‘honesty’, is how classics are written. That iconic opening line, “Reach out and touch faith”, for instance, evokes so many ideas about how scary it can be to open up and totally trust someone. Is it as religious as he infers by invoking the idea of your partner being your personal Jesus? I suppose it could be.

Or maybe I’m reading too deeply into what is really at its heart a great pop song for your liking? I sense that could possibly be true as well.

When this song was released, I was in high school. My musical tastes had yet to mature and so I hadn’t yet become the music geek whose words you read today. And I definitely wasn’t reading too deeply into the words sung by the ever enigmatic David Gahan. The title smacked of religion, something I was starting to rebel against at this time, my parents’ enforcement of church attendance each Sunday, and so something that sounded even vaguely sacrilegious was appealing. The heavy beat of the song also didn’t hurt. It made my step fall in line with it whenever it came on over my Sony Sports Walkman ear phones and got me up to dance whenever the DJ inevitably played it at our high school dances.

Yeah, I don’t mind saying that “People are people” was my first introduction to Depeche Mode but that “Personal Jesus” was my real gateway drug. It’s the reason why “Violator” was among the first compact discs I ever purchased, even before I had my own CD player. And it’s likely one of the main reasons why “Violator” was among the first of my vinyl purchases when I started collecting records again, even before I got my new turntable. It’s all rhythm and twangy guitar. It’s rage without the anger. It’s sadness without the tears. It’s passion without the physical touch. “Lift up the receiver, I’ll make you a believer.” It’s like new age blues. But these are all just words. It’s a great song that should be danced to, rather than be written about.

So press play and dance away your first day of 2018.

For the rest of the Best tunes of 1990 list, click here.