July 19, 2009
acid on the radio (chapter two excerpt)
sugarhigh! will be posting excerpts from this book over the next several months
The few acid tracks that grazed the charts were half-measures, mainstream conciliations — until December, when Humanoid charted with something altogether different. “Stakker Humanoid,” a spooky, minimal sprint with no hook beyond a momentary splice from the video game Berzerk, gave little ground to pop conventions or the spirit of one-off amusement. Gone were the full vocal lines of Electribe; gone the kitschy bricolage of S’Express, The Timelords, or for that matter Bomb the Bass and M/A/R/R/S. But moments from each of these found a unity in “Stakker Humanoid,” not a magnificent song but formally near perfect: a darkly reflective surface which held beneath it a sinuous energy that would flash forth momentarily — throw your hands in the air — returning straightaway to the depths, leaving the surface mutated. This was the new, without the novelty.
Nonetheless, contra Mark Moore, 1989 began with little more than signs and portents. In retrospect, it’s apparent that the nation was opening to dance music as a broader phenomenon — a sort of enabling condition for acid house’s growth beyond subcultural boundaries. Soul II Soul’s first hit, “Keep On Movin’,” peaked at Number Five; “Back To Life (However Do You Want Me),” began the summer at Number One. At the opposite end of the chart, “Voodoo Ray” snuck in at Number 40. The clearest harbinger of acid house’s breakthrough, however, wasn’t a dance track at all. The week after Voodoo Ray’s debut, the aforementioned northern folk combo Danny Wilson charted with “The Second Summer of Love.” After invoking The Dream Academy’s winter’s tale, “Life in A Northern Town,” the song turns sunny: “Ah the first Summer of Love was here when I was much too young; the first Summer of Love was clearly just a summer long.” The song is punctuated by the cheery chorus, culminating “there was love love all over the country, love all over the world.” Its lone minor-chord passage follows, marking to market as pop bands must: “Acid on the radio, acid on the brain; acid in the calico, acid in the rain.”
The song’s half-repressed anxiety of industrial competition wasn’t misplaced: the Second Summer of Love had finally arrived to the radio. As “Voodoo Ray” reached Number Twelve without major label support, Norman Cook (later known as Fatboy Slim) demonstrated his early grasp of lowest common denominator acid with “Won’t Talk About It/Blame It on the Bassline.” By the end of August, pop’s upper reaches were as consolidated as industry allows, under the smiley face flag. Lil Louis’ panting “French Kiss” was at Number Four; Betty Boo and the Beatmasters’ manic cartoon house, “Hey DJ/I Can’t Dance (To That Music You’re Playing)” was Eleven; deep house diva Adeva stood at 18 with “Warning!”; Detroit pioneers Inner City returned to the charts once again with “Do You Love What You Feel.” And “Ride On Time,” in only its third week, had climbed precipitously to Number Three. Studiously recreating the Rose Royce bass line of “Theme From S’Express” under an Italo-house piano sprint, Black Box built their diva hook from a Loleatta Holloway vocal sample — a shriek beyond ecstasy or agony, designed to blow through your head like a bullet train. This was unity as sheer domination, irrefutability with a disco beat. It occupied the top spot just as Technotronic’s “Pump Up the Jam” entered; by October they would be One and Two, and hold the high ground for another fortnight before starting to fade.
But the spell could not be broken. 808 State charted with “Pacific State,” co-written by already-departed member A Guy Called Gerald: a slightly jazzy return to the more minimalist manners of “Stakker Humanoid” from a year earlier, as was Orbital’s majestic “Chime,” recorded in December (“winter acid,” one might say). At the same time, Manchester’s rave bands arrived in the public consciousness. Stone Roses peaked at Eight with “Fool’s Gold”; Happy Mondays’ Madchester Rave On quite suddenly landed at Number One. Christmas 1989, and rave had finally unified the pop charts.