February 16, 2009 Earworm

Wow...
I learned that I'm surrounded by quite a few bah humbuggers this Valentine's Day. I'm not sure which is worse: those in a relationship who shrug the whole thing off or those who are single. While I'm not big on the grand statements suggested by advertisements, I've never been one to shy away from the chance to give/receive inexpensive sentiment sheathed in vivid red with a side of chocolate. Call me easy.



While running out to pick a card for my own personal heart holder, I planned to listen to Ultra Vivid Scene during the drive but accidentally pulled Tracey Ullman's "You Broke My Heart In Seventeen Places". Thinking, "Why not?", I went with it. As with most pastiche, the album hasn't aged well but it does have it's moments and one of them is "They Don't Know". Tracey's singing career was more of a lark - hilariously documented in her "Live And Exposed" show from 2005 - but the choice of Kirsty MacColl's "They Don't Know" as her second single - following the surprise success of her debut, an almost serious cover of "Breakway" with a high camp video that was still being played at The Hippo two years ago - showed a sense of savvy on someone's part. MacColl's own version was released by Stiff four years earlier and gained substantial UK airplay but, due to a distributors strike that hindered the record making it into stores, failed to chart. Not the type to hold a grudge, Kirsty can be heard on background vocals on Tracey's version.

The difference between the two records is striking: Kirsty's version sounds as though she will ignore the words of her friends but knows the whole thing will end in tears while Tracey - taking tongue out of cheek - actually sounds as though she believes that her fantasies will come true. Although Tracey's record is obviously routed in nostalgia - synthetic bells recall "Chapel Of Love" and castanets conjure Spector - it's second hand nostalgia as though channeled through a revival of "Grease" and somehow comes across as thoroughly modern for its time. Its time, of course, was steeped in retro deconstruction.

"They Don't Know" holds a special place in my heart as the closing song for nights spent dancing ourselves silly, closing the bar and packing too many teenage boys and girls into a car for a race to Baltimore's Block for hot dogs and then stopping into the seedy magazine stores to pack ourselves into booths to laugh at the peepshow porn offered for twenty-five cents a pop until the owners threw us out. An ever present mix tape would be fast forwarded to the song as we approached Mt. Vernon and we would fall out at the driver's apartment door to dance our last dance before drifting off to our respective beds and our own romantic dreams.