“1, 2, 3, 4!”
“Chris used to love, and still likes, the Lodger album. Which was quite interesting, because in those days it was regarded as not necessarily that great. For instance, it was badly reviewed at the time, but in fact it had these great songs on it. Fantastic Voyage is just great, and Boys Keep Swinging is on it. And is DJ on that? Actually, I just really like it, but I was amazed that it was actually Chris Lowe’s favourite album. He really really liked it.” — Neil Tennant talking to Steve Pafford in 1996
Well, yes, DJ is certainly on it, but to mark the 45th anniversary of David Bowie’s 13th studio set, a wee side serving. We’re focusing on the other two songs the Pet Shop Boys frontman gave a shout out to, when I interviewed him for a magazine dedicated to the Dame that I published in the mid nineties called Crankin’ Out.
The year after the conversation — ostensibly my first properly recorded celebrity interview — PSB’s Parlophone labelmates Blur issued their eponymous fifth LP, which shot to No. 1 in Blighty the week Bowie’s Earthling crashed like a rocket from Mars out of the top ten on its second week.
Mockney meets Pavement, M.O.R. was the album‘s fourth, final and least successful single (guitarist Graham Coxon refers to it as a “failed soldier”), reaching the fifteenth spot in September of 1997. But more newsworthy was its origins. A pop pastiche par excellence, there are Bowie references ricocheting all over the place — from Fashion, Under Pressure namechecks and on to considerably more than the chord progression purloined from Lodger’s lead 45, and, by extension, its unsettling opening track Fantastic Voyage.
Both songs which originally came out of Bowie and Brian Eno’s brief musical experiment to write different songs using the same chords. M.O.R is both a continuation of, and tribute to that experiment. Not only is there some very angular and angsty Belew-esque guitar but its loose garage-rock melody, reckless chorus, and call-and-response vocals are a cheeky, thinly-veiled rewrite of the Dame‘s Village People riposte, the brilliant Boys Keep Swinging.
Hands held high, Albarn laughed when, in an April 1997 interview, Request magazine couldn‘t help but notice the similarity: “That is what it is, actually. It’s embarrassing when people notice things like that, but I’ve always loved that song – I love those [Brian] Eno answer vocals!”
Q: Did you deconstruct Bowie songs?
A: Deconstruct constantly. I’ve been deconstructing Dufay and Perrichon and Janequin, Renaissance composers. You do that all the time.
– Damon Albarn | Book: The Art of Noise by Daniel Rachel, 2013
Bowie, of course, was famous for his deconstructionist collage approach to making music, and Albarn gleefully built on that magpie legacy, in many becoming the Brixtonian’s most obvious heir in the Britpop area,
For Albarn, the magpie tendency was the key to the Thin White Duke’s genius. Indeed, the Britpop boy once said that he aimed to “do that thing Bowie does – ripping off someone until it sounds like himself” in his own work.
Perhaps this is where the real similarity between the two “D”s lies. They both achieved that same ambition: Bowie curated multiple personas, but at his core, he was a rough-shod combination of Anthony Newley, Lou Reed and Iggy Pop.
Likewise, throughout his career, Damon Albarn has combined ’60s trendsetters like The Beatles, Ray Davies, and Syd Barrett with a range of Afrobeat, ambient, and Hip-Hop purveyors.
In doing so, both Englishmen developed something new, something that hadn’t existed before. At the end of the day, is that not the essential function of all art-making? Mind you, whether Blur’s deliriously insidious recycle should be considered a blatant rip-off or loving homage, Albarn went on record to express his shock that the hugely litigious Team Bowie took legal action anyway. “It was supposed to be an affectionate tribute”, the singer wailed. “And he fucking sued me!”). Before you could say Low? I’d Rather Be High, the single and all subsequent pressings of the album saw Bowie/Eno added to the credits.
Still, they made it up enough that by the early noughties, Bowie was singing the praises of Blur on his BowieNet website, informing the faithful that he much referred them to Madonna when both played New York City, and then, in 2003, raving about the band’s Think Tank album, telling Ricky Gervais
“Blur astonished, didn’t they? What a first class piece of work Think Tank was. Excellent writing and beautifully played. I saw them in New York a month or so ago and thought the show wonderful. Damon is a superb front man. Nice suit. Looked like Agnes B. but maybe not. The suit I mean, not Damon.”
Such was the rapprochement between the two that Albarn even guested on a rendition of Fashion for French TV (plus interview, where they‘re joined by French legend Françoise Hardy), though, sadly, despite many attempts, ole Damo could never quite get it together to persuade Davo to appear on a Gorillaz album.
Boys don’t always work it out then.
Steve Pafford
David Bowie’s Boys Keep Swinging at 40 + the first time Tony Visconti heard I Pray, Olé & those Rykodisc bonus tracks is here
