FEATURE:
In One in Seven British Households…
The Beautiful South’s Carry on Up the Charts at Thirty
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IT is claimed that…
The Beautiful South’s Carry on Up the Charts is in one in seven British households. So popular is their greatest hits collection, you can find it in so many homes around the country! Released on 7th November, 1994, I wanted to mark thirty years of one of the all-time best greatest hits collections. The band - Paul Heaton – vocals, Dave Hemingway – vocals, Jacqui Abbott – vocals, Dave Rotheray – guitar, Sean Welch – bass and Dave Stead – drums – released their fourth studio album, Miaow, earlier in 1994. Whilst not their best-received, it did contain great songs like Good as Gold (Stupid as Mud). It was no surprise that Carry on Up the Charts did so well. Think about the songs on it. From their debut single, Song for Whoever to A Little Time, there are recognisable and instantly warming songs. The songwriting brilliance of Paul Heaton and Dave Rotherray. It is amazing that this album really exploded. It was a major commercial success, reaching number one in the U.K. Albums Chart and going on to become the second-biggest-selling album of 1994. In a year where so many genius albums were released, The Beautiful South were up there with the very best. I think that many assumed a greatest hits collection would not be a success. Their 1989 debut album, Welcome to the Beautiful South, was a success. By the time Miaow arrived, the band’s stock was slightly waning. The chart positions were lower by then. It took many by surprise that a greatest hits album did so well. Listen to it now and it is not such a shock. So many classics and instantly recognisable tracks. Such exceptional songwriting. I must admit I don’t love every song on Carry on Up the Charts. I have always felt uncomfortable with 36D. It is a song that you could not get away with now. Judging Page 3 models and those that were perceived to be all about their bodies and looks and were shallow women, it does come off as really sexist and misogynistic. I guess Paul Heaton would not write a song like that now and has moved on, though The Beautiful South were reacting to the tabloidisation of the media and the sort of glamour models that appeared in newspapers like The Sun.
It is an uncomfortable song and one that contributed to former vocalist Briana Corrigan leaving the band – objecting to the way women were perceived in some of the band’s songs. Regardless, it is the only black mark on otherwise stunning album. This is what Sputnikmusic said in their review of Carry on Up the Charts:
“Released 1994.
Go! Discs Records.
Paul Heaton - Vocals
David Hemmingway - Vocals, Drums
David Rotheray - Guitars
Sean Welch - Bass
David Stead - Drums
Jacqueline Abbott - Vocals
Briana Corrigan - Vocals
Damon Butcher - Keys
If you live in the US, you will likely have no idea who The Beautiful South are. If you live in the UK, there is a 1 in 4 chance that this album is in your house somewhere. Such is life.
The Beautiful South were formed from the ashes of The Housemartins in 1989. Paul Heaton and David Hemmingway decided, in the wake of the break-up of their previous group, to form a new group almost immediately, choosing their new name as a sarcastic riposte to the reputation of the housemartins as boring, downbeat Northerners (the same reputation that had blighted their most clear influence, The Smiths). The assembled a line-up and released their first single within a year.
This compilation was released in 1994, following four full-lengths. Although they'd always been a successful group (A Little Time was a #1 single), the success of this album was a total shock. It became the 3rd fastest selling album ever in this country, and stayed at #1 in the charts for months, eventually going 7 times platinum. Approximate estimates place it as the 50th biggest selling album ever in the UK.
Song For Whoever
Originally on Welcome To The Beautiful South. 5/5
Their first ever hit, and easily one of their best songs. You know how every other rock star has written a song about being a rock star? Well, this is the best song ever written about being a rock star, ever. It's essentially a power ballad, but it perverts the form and exposes its cynical, hollow underbelly. 'Oh Shirley, oh Deborah, oh Julie, oh Jane....I wrote so many songs about you, I forgot your name.' And the wake of that lyric, every cynical attempt to dedicate a song to a vague 'lost love' falls flat. Heaton then goes one step further, painting himself as an abusive womanizer always in search of the subject for his next hit. 'Deep, so deep, the number 1 I hope to reap, depends on the tears you weep, so cry, lover cry.....'
You Keep It All In
Originally on Welcome To The Beautiful South. 5/5
This time, a duet between Heaton and Corrigan, with a few vocals from Hemmingway, too. This is the first clear showcase of Heaton's not-so-secret weapon - welding dark, cynical lyrics to upbeat, melodic, easygoing pop (here, replete with fingersnaps). After Corrigan accuses Heaton of keeping it all in, he responds 'That's right. The conversation we had last night? All I wanted was to knife you in the heart....' The lyrics later hint at a teenage girl forced to keep quiet as her father abuses her mother - revealing the song as treatize on the British stiff upper lip. Which, of course, amkes the irony of the upbeat melody cut even deeper. Americans may not understand the power of this song. I think it's a fucking masterpiece.
I'll Sail This Ship Alone
Originally on Welcome To The Beautiful South. 4.5/5
A beautiful piano intro leads into another finger-snapping rhythm with a stunning melody. Tenacious D fans may recognize the story here - 'Well they said if I wrote the perfect love song, you would take me back. Well I wrote it, but I lost it....' Later in the song, Heaton soars into an unabashed falsetoo over pizicatto strings, and the ghost of Morrissey bleeds through the track. Brilliant stuff.
A Little Time
Originally on Choke. 5/5
Man, this was MASSIVE when I was just getting into music. It's one of my earliest - and fondest - musical memories. Generally piano-led, but with a full brass section and pan pipes too (!!), it features one of the many Beautiful South bitter duets. Here, Heaton asks for a little time, space, and freedom, only to be shot down by Corrigan. 'The freedom that you wanted back? it's yours for good....I hope your glad.' Her sections use the anti-chorus technique, famously used by Radiohead on Fake Plastic Trees - instead of everything building up, it all backs off leaving the vocal to dominate the listener's attention completely. To close the song, she reprises Heaton. 'I've had a little time to think it over....I found a little courage, to call it off.' It's her best vocal performance, and it's heartbreaking.
My Book
Originally on Choke. 5/5
The most upbeat song yet. I've seen this song thrown down at weddings, and amazingly, it got EVERYONE up. Another measure of just how ingrained into the British consciousness this album is. The lyrics switch from diary entries in the verses (these lyrics are the most Morrissey-esque on the whole album, and accordingly, the funniest) to male-female vocal trade-offs in the chorus, before referencing Soul II Soul by closing with a chant of 'Back to bed, back to reality'.
Let Love Speak Up Itself
Originally on Choke. 5/5
A total change of tact from My Book, this is a slow ballad featuring only piano for the most part (a rarity for these guys). While there is the trademark cynicism here (references to funerals, meat cleavers, and 'pathetic little vodkas' are included), it's pushed onto a far grander scale here - the AMG track review quite rightly describes this as 'cinematic'. The pay-off line - 'To the world's greatest mum, from the oldest swinger in town' - is absolutely sublime, and is delivered perfectly by Heaton.
Old Red Eyes Is Back
Originally on 0898. 5/5
Their best song ever, and Heaton's best lyric. A tale of a old drunken waster looking back on his life, battling to overcome his alcohol dependancy. Every time he falls off the wagon and succumbs to drink again....well, old red eyes is back. Our protagonist palms people off weakly - 'When you look into these eyes, I hope you realize, they could never be blue.' The song builds and builds, before crashing again, and picking up for one final chorus. 'Old Red he died, and every single landlord in the district cried/An empty bottle of whiskey lying by his side...
We Are Each Other
Originally on 0898. 4/5
More guitar-led than most of their output, this deals with a couple so close that their relationship can no longer function properly. The structure of the song is brilliant (this sort of attention to detail is just one of the many things that elevate The Beautiful South far beyond the vast majority of pop bands) - observe how the chorus is split into 2 halves, effectively making 2 brilliant hooks for the price of one.
Bell Bottomed Tear
Originally on 0898. 4.5/5
Vocal duties here are handled mainly by Briana Corrigan, though Heaton does appear at points. The strengths of her voice is exploited very well here - sugary, with a slight hiccup, but always fragile and vaguely damaged. Her character here is never made explicitly clear - she's adressing a man who has got her pregnant, though whether she and the man are still together isn't made clear. Either way, he's ruined her life. Quietly devastating.
36D
Originally on 0898. 4.5/5
A distant relative of Little Baby Nothing by the Manic Street Preachers, though far more upbeat than that song. This features Heaton addressing a woman who's got by on looks and sex alone, telling her to 'Close your legs, open your mind' (and that's just the opening line!). The chorus packs a sonic punch you wouldn't expect from the band, as Heaton and Hemmingway ask '36D, so what? Is that all that you got?'
Good As Gold (Stupid As Mud)
Originally on Miaow. 4.5/5
Also known as 'Carry On Regardless', this is the track that gave its name to the album (it's also, in both instances, a reference to the Carry On movies). It also contains the lyric 'Bronze is for the sick and old' - another ironic, witty twist from Heaton when you consider that their later cash-in compilation was called Solid Bronze. Practically a showtune musically, it could quite easily have shown up in a musical. It's also possibly their most relentlessly catchy moment.
Everybody's Talkin'
Originally on Miaow. 4.5/5
Cover version time! To be totally honest, this is a pretty average version of this song. The band play it straight, although there's some strange slap bass in the second verse. But you know what? I've never heard a bad version of this tune. It's just a plain great song all the same.
Prettiest Eyes
Previously unreleased. 4.5/5
Opens with a fingerpicked acoustic guitar passage that almost threatens to take attention away from the vocal. The fact that this is a fairly simple love song is almost a disappointment after what precedes it, but it's saved by Heaton's lovely observation of love surviving throughout old age. 'Take a look at those crow's feet, sitting on the prettiest eyes.' The couple even offer up some advice to the younger generation - 'You can't have too many good times, children'.
One Last Love Song
Stand-alone single. 4/5
A continuation of Song For Whoever. This is more subtle in its cynicism towards popular music, but it shows in the second verse. 'Those bloody great ballads we hated at first? Well I bought them all, now I'm writing worse.' But this is different, because it is - hark! - a fairly straight love song. Which makes you wonder whether the quoted lyric is self-hatred, or just a backhander aimed at either his reputation or the rest of the charts. In any case, there's subversion of the pop song structure here, just as there is in Song For Whoever, even if it's not quite as effective.
Dream A Little Dream
Originally on French Kiss OST. 4/5
Only included on some reissues. Another cover, again of a simple, great pop song that surely everybody in the Western world is familiar with. Again, the band play it straight. A good song, but nobody will call this out as a highlight.
I'll be honest here - my original intention was to review the later Beautiful South hits collection, Solid Bronze. However, halfway through the track-by-track, I realised the only reason I was even listening to it was for the songs that featured on here. Thing is, when these guys are off form, they're boring and too intelligent for their own good, which comes through all too clear in the second half of Solid Bronze. Here, though, EVERY track is brilliant. I was wary of giving another compilation such a high rating so soon after reviewing Legend, but screw it. Anybody who appreciates intelligent, melodic music NEEDS the Beautiful South in their collection, and this is THE starting point.
Within The Genre - 5/5
Outside The Genre - 4.5/5”.
I am going to end with another review for this magnificent greatest hits collection. This blog dug deep with a greatest hits collection whose full title is Carry on Up the Charts: The Best of The Beautiful South. I am surprised they did not release a second volume of it. Regardless, the 1994 album still sounds so amazing and full of treats thirty years later. Songs that instantly come back to mind and make you sing along:
“The People’s Music, as Cornelius Cardew would have recognised and condemned it. Six times platinum, and I read somewhere that one in four households owns a copy of the Beautiful South’s greatest hits, although Wikipedia indicates that it is one in seven. Given the band’s hitherto largely indifferent commercial appeal, the early big hits notwithstanding, this triumph was unexpected – the compilation was put together to combat shrinking album sales, and nobody involved in its making expected it to do much business.
Perhaps, as with Queen’s Greatest Hits, the public proved surprisingly receptive of a string of medium-sized hits which sounded really good and instantly familiar when run together. But one might prefer to think of Carry On Up The Charts as the ultimate triumph of that petrified eighties doxa, New Pop.
If the mission of New Pop was to smuggle radical ideas into the musical mainstream, then it must be argued that nobody in pop smuggled them better or more sneakily than Paul Heaton and Dave Rotheray, the band’s writers. They had three voices with which to work – Heaton, Dave Hemingway and Briana Corrigan (succeeded in 1994 by Jacqueline Abbott) – but this was no Fleetwood Mac; rather, it allowed Heaton and Rotheray to construct little dramas, schematic dialogues (Alan Bennett might be a pertinent reference point here, but Alan Ayckbourn would be more so) or doleful soliloquies.
The music is immaculate in construction and proved instantly attractive, possibly so much so that mothers named their daughters after the women referred to in “Song For Whoever,” and solvent types deployed their music as genteel background to dinner parties, both parties generally missing the point altogether.
The affable smoothness of the music is as much a red herring as the band’s name – sardonic, anti-Thatcherite, unavoidably Northern. For this is generally very savage stuff. They did not play at all in North America, since there is rarely the revealed subtext with which American audiences could identify when listening to, say, Randy Newman or Stephen Merritt. Sure, “Good As Gold” sounds, musically, like Ben Folds, but who in the States knew about the Carry On films or could empathise with Heaton’s hilarious growl of “re-GARD-less”?
Yet “Song For Whoever” is a coruscating demolition of allegedly sensitive songwriting males who seemingly and actively seek out women to abuse and betray purely to advance their own “art” and make them richer. Its sentiments are worthy of Crass. “I’ll Sail This Ship Alone” relies on Heaton’s warble of a Freddie Garrity voice, slowly and systematically upping the trope of lyrical options available to the deserted lover before arriving at a gruesome conclusion. The fruity flute bounce of “You Keep It All In” masks a brutal scenario of domestic violence – the daughter in her bedroom with the light on, hearing everything that’s going on downstairs, might be the girl to whom the Tracey Thorn of “Protection” sings.
“A Little Time” subverts the “gotta find myself” trope so nicely that it got to number one as a single, even though its gentle balladic sway is regularly intercepted by plutonium-filled fields of low electronic drones, all the better to soundtrack Corrigan’s angrily sardonic response to Hemingway’s platitudes.
All of these four songs get played on Radio 2 to this day, and its audiences largely remain mercifully ignorant of their underlying messages. Does this imply the final failure of any pop to “matter,” or might it be the case that music fans charmed by soppy sentiment also have a parallel taste for the sordid (how else can one possibly explicate the continuing success of EastEnders, that least beautiful of Souths?)?
The remaining songs get far less airplay today, but still mostly remain acidly familiar. “My Book” is probably the nearest that the record gets to “rock” in a 1987 Smiths or, dare I say it, Housemartins sense. “Old Red Eyes Is Back,” concerning the slow suicide of an incurable alcoholic, balanced against the subject’s own Faustian cries against the many alternative futures which had once been available to him, is one of the most final of deconstructions of the “mad for it” Loaded/Oasis leitmotif. “Bell Bottomed Tear,” detailing a one-night stand which doesn’t quite vacate itself from the minds of either protagonist (Corrigan, Hemingway), is a wonderful ballad, slightly reminiscent of mid-eighties Style Council, and rather more reminiscent of the melancholy side of Mike Batt (“Railway Hotel”), which seems to serve as the flipside, or possibly the prequel, to “A Little Time” (except there is, somewhere in this song’s diplomatic wreckage, a child, whereas “A Little Time” makes no mention of children – yet who is to say that this isn’t the same couple spoken about in “You Keep It All In”?
(are you following all of this, by the way?)
Homer Heaton nods at times, however. Corrigan was unhappy with “36D,” which seems more intent on having a go at glamour models than the men who facilitate them, and other lyrically dubious songs, hence left the band. She was replaced by Jacqueline Abbott – and the only cover version to appear here, of an American song, serves to introduce Abbott to the band’s landscape (even though she seems at times to be trolling Tracey Thorn while singing the Fred Neil standard).
Nonetheless, we do sense a distinct maturation of the band’s aesthetic palate. “Good As Gold (Stupid As Mud)” jauntily (in the Gilbert O’Sullivan style, really) chronicles what might be the young Red Eyes, not giving a damn but wanting something more, as though Ingrid Bergman would ever have remotely heard of him.
But the most remarkable song here is “Prettiest Eyes,” one of the most generous of popular songs to celebrate old people (and yes, there is a Kevin Rowland subtext here too; see “Old” on Too-Rye-Ay). Whereas the earlier “Let Love Speak Up Itself” was a typically vinegary analysis of an old couple – though does carry an extraordinary coda wherein Heaton suddenly begins crying and yelling, as though attempting to scrabble his way out of the coffin designed for him – “Prettiest Eyes” is a more grown-up study of growing old yet remaining capable of love and much else. Its coda of “But you'll never hear the crack of a frown when you are here” is quite moving, and “crack” is the key word – it is as though the violence which has bubbled up throughout the rest of the record has been defeated and resolved.
All that remains is “One Last Love Song,” the bookend to “Song For Whoever” which examines over-melismatic emotional yuppie soul types and their videos and mannerisms in the manner of an eighteenth-century sea shanty. At its end, Heaton cries, repeatedly, “Let it die.” Rebuilding the true social(ist) contract.
Oh, and that cover art? Painted by Camberwell School of Art graduate Matthew Radford, it depicts a group of blurred, indistinct citizens crossing London Bridge – and it is the old London Bridge that they are crossing. The art suggests that the South might one day become beautiful once again”.
On 7th November, Carry on Up the Charts: The Best of The Beautiful South turns thirty. I was eleven when it came out. I was a fan of the band already, but I don’t think there is a copy of the album in my family’s home. One in seven homes own it apparently. That is no overstatement. A major success for the band, they experienced mixed fortunes with their studio albums after 1994. However, like Good as Gold (Stupid as Mud), they would…
CARRY on regardless.