People like to joke that if the Rolling Stones were to debut today, they would never be popular because they’re not attractive enough. This is not entirely accurate. I can’t imagine that a single member of Fall Out Boy or Panic at the Disco had much luck with women until they sold millions of records, so there would have been hope for the Stones in today’s go-fabulous-or-go-home musical climate once they brought the rock.
Romeo Void, on the other hand, would not have a prayer.
At the risk of sounding insensitive, it all comes down to one simple thing: Romeo Void’s lead singer Debora Iyall was a girl. A big, big girl. And that is simply not allowed these days. It doesn’t really matter that Iyall had attitude to spare and one of the most unique voices of her time, a smoky alto that could handle snotty new wave and torch songs with equal aplomb. (I’ve never actually heard Iyall sing torch songs, but if she did, I just know they’d sound awesome.) Nope, today’s record execs would toss the band’s press kit in the trash the second they saw that full frame. Say this for the ’80s: a lot of bands may have gotten a contract because of their flashy looks, but the labels were still willing to let a band’s music do the talking in the event that they didn’t have pinup looks. Who knows, maybe nostalgia is clouding my judgment on this. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Without any historical context, it makes sense that song like “A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing)” would crawl into the back door of the Top 40 when it did (it peaked at #35 in October 1984). Its blend of minor keys and super-catchy sax line (saxophones were practically required by law back then, you know), propelled by a danceable drum beat, was of its time while slightly outside of it as well. What doesn’t make sense is that this is the same band that, just two years earlier, made their name with a stomping slice of post-punk called “Never Say Never,” which sported the unforgettable line “I might like you better if we slept together.” Was the decision to adopt a more, ahem, mature sound (musicians hate that word) the band’s call, or the label’s? Honestly, I have no idea. Those two songs I listed above are still the only two songs I’ve ever heard by the band, that I remember, anyway.
In either case, it was 1984, which means that if the label thinks it has a shot at a hit, they’re commissioning a remix. Since Romeo Void was on Columbia (technically, they were on San Francisco-friendly imprint 415, which was distributed by Columbia), they had house producer David Kahne behind the desk and our good friend Francois Kevorkian, who’s rivaling Arthur Baker for WLW face time, handling remix duties. Truth be told, Mr. Kevorkian doesn’t do much here but stretch out the instrumental breaks and add a few big claps behind the snare drum, but in his defense, “A Girl in Trouble” is not the kind of song that would stand up to a bunch of stutter edits and overblown sampling. So while it’s not an outstanding example of remix work, I like the fact that songs like this merited a remix back in the day.
A quick word to audiophiles: I downloaded this mp3 about ten years ago. It’s clearly a vinyl rip, with those snake-like s’s hissing throughout. Sorry about that.
Romeo Void – A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing) (Extended Version)
But Fishbone knew how to play the game. For starters, they used their playful nature to their advantage; the lyric may be more focused on the “Ground Zero” part, but the music is “Party,” “Party,” “Party,” which made their tune about dancing when the bombs drop an easy sell. Most importantly, they made great videos – in fact, the video for “Party at Ground Zero” was directed by a young Henry Selick, of The Nightmare Before Christmas and Coraline fame – causing MTV to play the daylights out of them at a time when the channel played few black artists outside of Michael Jackson and Prince. Perhaps it was this blend of originality and fearlessness that convinced our friend Francois Kevorkian to try his hand at a remix of “Ground Zero.” Or maybe it was a fat paycheck from Columbia, one of the two. Either way, the end result is a remix to a song that sported a BPM count in the 190s, which is about 70 beats per minute above the norm at the time. Awesome.
In fairness to those insane voters, I think I can see why they were so offended by “Blue Light.” It’s bouncy, chock full o’ horns, and has a beat you can dance to, all of which are anathema to anything Roger Waters ever stood for. But that’s sort of the point of solo albums, right? To make the kinds of records that you can’t make with your day job? And never mind the whole day job nonsense – is this song really that far removed rhythmically from “Run Like Hell”? Nope, it really isn’t, and in fact serves as a perfect bridge between “Run Like Hell” and “Dogs of War,” which would appear on the next (Waters-free, augh!) Pink Floyd album A Momentary Lapse of Reason. Ha fucking ha.