I think the right phrase for this one is: “all my Christmases came at once”. Never before had I thought I’d be able to bring up someone from my very, very early blog past, in this latest version of it, in a way that made perfect sense. Dave Stewart & Barbara Gaskin’s Up From the Dark is a wistful, collection of forgotten bits of English Pop smarts, one that should realistically never existed. Released in the ‘80s, it was a wonderful slice of the highly intelligent pop this duo had in the vaults somewhere, away from their vastly, more known “hit” covers. Balearic Sophisti-Pop, with tons of boogie edges, is the last thing one would expect from such a duo altogether. In the ‘80s, when a lot of things went to the woodshed, I feel we’re ripe to lose sight of hidden gems if we don’t take the time to provide some context.
More lived-in music scavengers would be right to confuse the duo with the largely popular Eurhythmics. Both were English, both toyed with electronics and Pop, and both had a member with the name of Dave Stewart. Here’s where these two differed: the Dave Stewart of Up From the Dark, was a different person altogether. The Dave Stewart who joined Barbara Gaskin, was once a pivotal member of next generation Canterbury Prog group Hatfield and the North. This Dave Stewart created Pop music, that fully accepted its “Englishness” far more than the Teutonic-indebted sounds of Annie Lennox. While Annie Lennox is rightfully regarded as a vocalist and pioneer, Barbara Gaskin (for those who have ventured into some further Albion) rightfully merits as much consideration.
As a younger woman, Barbara was a powerful voice in England’s new folk-rock scene. A brilliant multi-instrumentalist and singer, together with Martin Cockerham, Barbara fronted the deeply ambitions neo-folk group Spirogyra (a very early F/S fave). On albums like Bells, Boots And Shambles, Barbara would play a powerful foil to the wicked nasally-voiced stylings of Martin, creating epic folk songs that toyed with post-rock and all sorts of elongated, deeply English, folk music. When that group broke up, she took up side gigs backing up groups like Dave Stewart’s own Hatfield and the North, adding that special mid-tempo tone only she could nail…even in songs that would threaten to go into the dreaded “Zolo” territory.
Fast forward a few years later, in 1981, on a lark, Dave convinced Barbara to help him cover a tune by Leslie Gore, to release as a single: “It’s My Party”. Just a year or so earlier, Dave had struck chart gold by enlisting the help of ex-Zombies singer Colin Blunstone to reimagine the old soul classic “What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted” as haunting New Wave Pop song. Wishing to do the same with a female singer, the duo fancied a go at it, and Barbara would take the limelight to do so. Surprisingly, that single became an even greater hit worldwide, practically begin them to have a full album go at it. At the peak of their popularity, Dave and Barbara would go into hiding and do just that, fulfilling a remarkable turnaround from their decidedly progressive beginnings.
For six months they held up in their studio recording an album they’d dub “Disappear”. By then, unsure of how or where to release it, they shelved it. It had a few covers but mostly originals that sounded far from the more dark, techie side the rest of the electro-pop and post-punk world had gravitated too. Disappear was far too sounding of their own musical nature: sweet, smart, sophisticated, and completely unpretentious. Piecemeal, though, through their own record label (Broken Dreams) they’d forge ahead releasing singles that could cover both territories in a way seemingly more sensible for the music market to prepare for.
On covers of early Brill building songs like “Busy Doing Nothing”, they’d release on the flip-side, b-side originals like “The World Spins So Slow” where they’d hope audiences could appreciate a contemporary version, of experimental “light” Pop. They were never able to repeat the popularity of the single “It’s My Party” but each progressive cover single showed them growing as songwriters themselves.
Take notice of their cover to Thomas Dolby’s “Leipzig”. The original was a decidedly cold, dire affair, more in tune with Berlin-era Bowie and Kraftwerk. Under the duo’s work it became this joyful bit of post-ABBA, twisty Pop craft where all the edges were softened, and impressions instead left you in some gorgeous, nostalgic welcome in something new, special. It was vaporwave, before such a thing existed. That bit of something special, in an era when tongue-in-cheek covers were the norm, further appeared in their cover of Goffin/King’s “Locomotion”. Imagine the pathos of the original scootched up into some weird gothic dance… “Siamese Cat Song”, another wicked reimagining of some old Disney cartoon song, deserves it’s own high praise for tapping into techno-pop far from their own shores.
Sadly, though, what people would never get a chance to hear until much later would be their own music. In 1984, Rykodisc promised to release their first album on CD, a groundbreaking format they’d hope would launch them to a newer market. It wouldn’t be until two years later that they’d honor the promise made to Dave and Barbara and collect all of Disappear and their brilliant singles, from the same period, into one collection. Now, audiences had a chance to hear gems like “I’m In A Different World” and “(Do I Figure) In Your Life” which sound much more of our time than theirs.
6 originals and 9 covers, doesn’t sound like a ringing endorsement for the originality of Up From the Dark, but the proof is in the music. My favorite, not an original, “I’m In A Different World” takes a Four Tops original, and sends it through the borrowed lens of Lindsey Buckingham, reimagining it as peak Balearic mood music — as “soft” synths harmonize and quantize to Barbara’s gorgeous multi-tracked vocal arrangements. “(I Know) I’m Losing You” — eat your heart out, Faces — receives a deep, tropical heart-tug reimagining it as a Tears For Fear epic sent off to some beach, in a forgotten coastline. Similarly, XTC’s “Roads Girdle The Globe” never sounded as grounded in its soul influence as it would on Dave and Barb’s cover of it.
The triptych of originals that close the album, from “Do We See The Light of Day” through “As Far As Dreams Can Go” go even further. They imagine a minimal Pop, where Barb’s vocals freely move the music in intelligent ways, that speak of more adult motifs, of Pop music as lived-in things for enlightenment. George Michael, Isabelle Antena, and The Blue Nile once before tapped into these same ideas. Dave and Barbara had it hidden in their vaults for far too long, though. Long out of print, and still a great album album to feel some joy out of picking at, Up From The Dark needs more champions for it than myself alone.
One response
nice one.
Thank you.