This song only works if you know the crowd you’re playing for or have played at the club previously. When I was in a post-punk band we used to do a Grimsby a cappella version of this that sounded somewhere between a pub landlord and Sam Cooke.
I was working for an MCA Universal subsidiary when this was released. My constant mithering at the A&R department got this signed to MCA. Killer vocal tune.
A very gloopy, weird vocal track that appears to be about a chap coming home after a night on the razz and trying to get it on with his significant other.
I like to chuck on a deeply unfashionable 70s pop act just to sort out the women from the girls. No better feeling than seeing a full dancefloor register the horror that they’re dancing furiously to Cliff Richard or Smokie.
In the imaginary world I inhabit, it’s perfectly feasible for a nine-minute track by an obscure Afrobeat artist to make it on to the Wonderful Radio 1 playlist and get in the charts.
I walked into a record store called Serendeepity in Milan a couple of weeks ago and this mad record was playing. I’ve been obsessed with it ever since. He’s like a Japanese Arthur Russell with a pedal steel guitar.
A great cover version of the War classic by a 70s Swedish group whose attire frankly makes Abba look like Funkadelic.
Bill Brewster Presents Tribal Rites is out now on Eskimo