044. Now! That's What I Call Music 14

Now! compilations carry a bit of a reputation. If you want the stickiest, sweetest, lowest common denominator chart nonsense, then Now! is a good place to start. While they do contain some ear-wrenching pop howlers, there’s much more to this long running compilation series.

Everyone can remember their first (and last) Now! album. From a socio-cultural point of view, you can even make a good stab at guessing someone’s age from this information alone. My first was 20; a double cassette opening up with the thunderous Dizzy from Vic Reeves & The Wonderstuff. I also remember my parents possessing a copy of 17, featuring Depeche Mode’s Enjoy The Silence. That’s probably where my Mode obsession started to develop!

Now!’s are also fantastically useful DJ tools. When I took my first tentative steps into the world of playing records to other people, a recent Now! was an essential purchase, guaranteeing that you had on hand all the latest pop tunes people may be likely to request.

Since I picked up the very first edition at a carboot sale many years ago I have sought to collect the entire series that was committed to vinyl. Shockingly they stopped pressing vinyl releases with Now! 35 in 1996! With my collection sitting at 14, I have some way to go.

Now! 14 isn’t the strongest in the collection, containing a few too many fillers. Record 1.2 is by far the best side on offer, featuring the simply stunning She Drives Me Crazy by the Fine Young Cannibals. However, as our token audible, I opted for Inner City’s Good Life, since I don’t already own this awesome house tune in any other medium.

Inner City - Good Life by dcp84

Now! That’s What I Call Music 14: Inner City – Good Life
[EMI, Virgin, Polygram : NOW 14]
(1989)

Aylesbury Market: £3.00

041. Lady Gaga – The Fame Monster

Well, that was an adventure. Normality has returned after my pretentions at becoming a camouflaged civil servant have come to an abrupt halt. The whys and wherefores are best left for another medium, but it does mean that I can now concentrate on vastly more important things; collecting records again.

I’d love to open things up with an uber-cool, rare as you like, underground techno 12” on a limited pressing white label that you’d never recognise, let alone have heard before. However, DMM is about much more than tune spotter elitism. It’s simply about good music.

So what is it about Lady Gaga then? DMM reckons she’s properly awesome. Detractors may write her off as another Madonna, but they’re failing to pick up the delightful veins of irony sparkling through her work. Her persona flirts with the borderline between the serious and ironic so as to leave her audience guessing. Is this genuine or is this all an elaborate ruse?

A more apt parallel would be made by pointing to Marilyn Manson. He sculpted a stage character, an associated vibe and contextualising backdrop, all of which combining to create a product which is more than just the music. Not only this, but both of them seem to be able to push the right buttons in public consciousness at the right time in order to get a raise, though admittedly in very different spheres of influence.

Others claim she’s unoriginal. Certainly, if you listen to a Gaga record, you’ll have heard the elements before. However, much like the KLF, or say Xenomania, she picks and chooses with intelligence, shuffling elements together to create her own work.

As always on DMM, we might be over thinking things a bit. Stripping the analysis away, all we have here are solid synth laden pop tunes with infectious lyrics. Plus, how powerful is that gothic cover photo? In and of its self, this is enough to warrant adding The Fame Monster to the collection.

Lady Gaga - Bad Romance by dcp84

Lady Gaga – The Fame Monster: Bad Romance
[Interscope : B 001382101]
(2009)

Juno: £18.79

037. The Timelords - Doctorin' The Tardis

This year’s carboot season well and truly slipped my mind. Driving to work on Firday I suddenly noticed the sign for the last bootsale of the year. Aye carumba! As I rocked up late in the closing hour, just as everyone was packing away I though how this was an apt metaphor for my carboot attitude this year.

Idiot record collectors may scoff at the idea of hunting at these events, but really they can be gold mines. When speaking face to face you can strike deals and haggle to increase the value for money factor. Not to mention the joys of wandering around with a nice cold can of DC in the summer sun, trying to figure out how on earth anyone in their right mind hopes to sell an old TV remote for a set that’s probably older than you are.

If you’re after a mint condition first pressing Beatles LP for under a fiver, you’re probably going to be out of luck at a carboot sale, but if you fancy bulking out your collection with good quality mainstream staples at a reasonable cost, it really is the place to go. Charity shops generally have a good selection, but with vastly inflated prices. This is of course fair; I’d never begrudge the starving children of Africa or little Johnny getting a nice bed in a hospice. Online, prices have become staggeringly expensive and artificially inflated way beyond the actual value of items.

Today’s purchase is a good example. I paid 50p for what would be classed as a sleeve G to VG, media VG to VG+. On discogs you’d be looking to pay around £2.50 for a similarly classed item, ignoring of course postage and packing. If I was a capitalist, I’d surely sell this one on and make a tidy profit. Thankfully I’m not.

I’m slightly reticent to blog about the KLF, the masterminds behind this track. With such a rich and interesting history behind them, and the countless essays already written about them, a few words scratched in haste in the afternoon sun can hardly penetrate the depth of such an infamous and influential act. So, let’s just keep things brief. While many of my generation, and especially those of the current generation, may dismiss the KLF as flagrant commercial pirates, pillaging the charts for all they are worth, you really cannot deny they played the system with aplomb and always kept one step ahead of the game.

For my money, they turned a mirror at the burgeoning celebrity pop chart world of the 1980s, analysing what they were presented with and extracting any utility laden elements and using it to their own ends. Yet, at the same time they weren’t swallowed by pop culture maschine. They managed to retained an esoteric element of charm and distinction, and struck at the heart of the culture while remaining somewhat on the fringes. They had a post-modern irony to them, that what they were doing was blatantly uncool, but because they recognised that fact and had constructed another layer of identity around this fact they suddenly became incredibly cool. Of course, this was in a way that if you actually acknowledged this cool, it would instantly become uncool. Whoops, I guess they’re uncool again now. Then again, it’s been years, I’m sure they won’t mind me rumbling them this late in the game.

The Timelords – Doctorin’ The Tardis (Minimal)
[KLF Communications : KLF 003T]
(1988)

Tetsworth Carboot Sale: £0.50