Power Pop

The Savior Of Musical Blandness In America

       
November 24, 1995
         

There was a time when you knew what to expect from a couple of guitars, bass, and drums. It was called pop music, arid it was songs with hummable melodies and choruses you wanted to sing out loud.

And there was a time when pop music virtually covered the entire spectrum of music made by the young for a young mass audience.  However, around 1967 it began fragmenting, as pieces slipped off the whole, taking their fans with them. Prog-rock, folkrock, just plain rock...  even pop itself began disintegrating, as soul, glam, and other styles started to disassociate themselves.

Somewhere in there, starting in America, came power pop. By the second half of the '70s it was a readily identifiable genre, scoring plenty of hits and creating its own stars. And it already had its share of early heroes who'd fallen by the wayside, names like Big Star and the Raspberries.

It really only shone for a brief while, before being eclipsed by New Wave, but power pop has never gone away - it simply disappeared underground, where it's remained ever since.

The original inspiration for power pop, as for virtually 'anything to do with pop music after 1962, Was the Beatles. Their music, of course, was a revolution, even if it wasn't a deliberate upheaval of the rock'n'roll that had gone before.

Of the pop bands that came 'in their wake, three had a huge influence on power pop, two American and one British. The tale of Badfinger is well-known to most pop fans, and Dan Matovina's excellent Without You tells it in all its tragic detail. But they took one facet of the Fab Four - the smart, accessible pop songwriting - and amplified it, utilizing complex vocal harmonies as part of their arsenal, and effectively upping the ante. Although their first hit "Come And Get It" was a McCartney throwaway, written for the movie The Magic Christian, they built on that base, and established themselves as a major pop act, more in America than their native Britain. Both "No Matter What" and "Day After Day" established them as a major force, while their albums for the Apple label showed them to have more up their sleeves than hit singles. From there they moved to Warner Bros., and their 1974 album Wish You Were Here had just entered the U.S. charts when life fell apart. A problem in the band's escrow account forced the label to pull the album off the market, and investigation showed that they'd been heavily ripped off by their management which led to their 1975 suicide of Pete Ham. In different fashions, the band limped on, but the heart had largely been ripped out of them.

Big Star never managed the hits; indeed, they’ve never risen above cult status.  But they did make an impact as one of the best American pop bands of the early ‘70s.  They really started life in Memphis as Ice Water, led by singer/songwriter Chris Bel1.  When the band's guitarist left, he was replaced by Alex Chilton, who'd come to fame as a 16 year-old with the Box Tops. Renaming themselves Big Star, after a local supermarket, signing with the new Ardent label (named for the famous Memphis studio where they recorded), in 1971 they made #1 Record.  The disc received glowing reviews, but parent label Stax was having major distribution problems, which meant that all too often the record was unavailable in stores.

While they’d worked together superbly on the album, creative differences arose between Bell alld Chilton.  Chilton wanted the band out and touring; Bell wanted to stay in the studio.  There were a few other factors such as the minimizing of Bell's contribution to the group - that led to Bell leaving the group in 19'72 (he'd release one other single in his short lifetime, the sublime "I Am The Cosmos").  The band struggled on, before breaking up - although within a few months they were back together.

They made it back into the studio for 1974's Radio City, probably the best of their three albums, with "September Gurls" and “Back Of A Car" (although "Thirteen" and "Ballad Of EI Goodo" from their debut also rank as classics).  Once more distribution problems sabotaged any chance of success.  There was touring, a change in bass players... and then the fabled sessions for the third album.     

The legendary Jim Dickinson was behind the board, helping Chilton's twisted vision become reality.  Other players, including Stax's Steve Cropper, played on some songs. But once sessions were complete, the record wasn't released, and Big Star split up.

The album was finally released in 1978 - but not in the U.S. Depending on where in the world it appeared, it was called SisterLovers or Third.  One of the - darkest pop albums ever released - and, for all its shadows, it was a pop record - it stands as a brooding legacy to the band and indeed to Chilton's peripatetic solo career.

The Raspberries enjoyed more commercial luck than Big Star.  But their career had just as many ups and downs.  Formed in 1970 from the wreckage of several Cleveland bands (virtually all of whom had played together before, at different times), they were led by Eric Carmen, a classically-trained pianist with a penchant for British pop music.  Signing to Capitol, they issued the ballad "Don't Wanna Say Goodbye," which didn't do the business.  Its follow-up, however, did.  "Go All The Way" peaked at #5, their best-seller, where the Beach Boys met the Who, a prelude to Raspberries.  They did better with Fresh, which appeared just a few months later, generating two more hits in "I Wanna Be With You" and "Let's Pretend."

August 1973 brought "Tonight," another excellent single, but there was conflict in the band, which was evident on Side 3, where Carmen's songs sat apart from those by bandmates Bonfanti and Smalley. Changes were inevitable, and they happened, with Carmen as the only real continuing presence in the newer, three-piece Raspberries.

There was no new material for a year, but when "Overnight Sensation (Hit Record)" arrived in October. 1974, it was apparent that Carmen hadn't been wasting his time. It was ambitious, vocally almost as complex as "Good Vibrations," with a rock'n'roll growl pushing it along. It was pulled from the album Fresh, and it was the obvious standout.

Carmen disbanded the Raspberries in 1975, going on to a moderately successful solo career.

Those three bands were the progenitors of power pop. While London and New York were pounding to punk, America's heartland was looking to a different way of using three chords and some voices...

Why the Midwest in particular?  Perhaps because, with the exception of rock'n'roll cities like Detroit, Cleveland, and Chicago, the area was less susceptible to trends in everything.  Add to that the fact that it was almost impossible to find import records, or even releases on small, independent labels and you have a recipe for the continuation and development of a classic pop sound by teenage boys (and, almost invariably, they were boys).

Power pop -a term bestowed by the critics - was never a movement as such in its early years (although today a real, tight-knit pop underground does exist).  There was no core to it, as there was with, say, punk. These bands grew in isolation, almost literally, because the music they were making was different from much of the material dominating the Top 40 or the album charts.  A few of the acts did break through, and for a brief while, before it was submerged in the New Wave, it looked as if power pop might be the savior of musical blandness in America.

And how did New Wave differ from power pop?  In a number of ways, the two did blend into each other.  Both relied on fairly classic pop structures and melody.  But New Wave was far more a slave to fashion, happy to jump on the latest sonic bandwagon, and to bring in synthesizers.  Power pop had its gods, who were sacrosanct.  The sound might develop, but it had its firm anchors.  In Britain, though, several of the New Wave acts, such as the Records or the Motors, were essentially power pop; in fact, the term power pop never fully caught on there, and New Wave became a catch-all net.

There was no real back-and-forth across the Atlantic. None of the American acts managed to make an impact in the U.K., or vice versa. Power pop, as such, remained mostly an American phenomenon.

One who made a splash early on was Dwight Twilley. Along with musical partner Phil Seymour (who died in 1993), he melded Beatie-ish melodies and harmonies with rockabilly beats for an intriguing, and very American hybrid. The Tulsa, OK.-born pair had met in the '60s, and developed their songwriting and playing chops, together in a studio they'd built at home. To record professionally, however, they decided to go to Nashville, stopping in Memphis, where they visited the great Sun Studios, and learned more about slapback echoes and rockabilly, bringing it into their particular mix.

They signed to Shelter Records in 1974, and scored right off the bat with their first single, "I'm On Fire," in 1975, But a follow-up, "Sharks," never arrived, as the label decided it didn't want the band to seem like a novelty act, in the wake of the mega-success of Jaws. That was merely the beginning of the bad luck. It took over a year for their completely album, Sincerely, to be released, due to problems at the label, while a second LP, recorded in England, never found its way to the shelves.

But Sincerely garnered great reviews.  Credited to the Dwight Twilley Band (which was just Twilley and Seymour), it found a perfect, naive balance of English and American influences, along with some fabulous songwriting.  The only problem was, that it didn't sell in great quantities.  There was a slight roughness to it, but that merely added to its charm.  In fact, it would become one of the Ur-texts of power pop, a blueprint and, a way forward for many of those bands in the garage. And the power of the Twilley band was confirmed when Twilley Don't Mind was released (on a different label, Arista) in 1977.

Once again, it offered great songs and performances, and reviews were almost uniformly glowing, but still it failed to sell in an era where disco and Peter Frampton ruled the charts. Seymour left, and Twilley continued as a solo artist (although The Great Lost Twilley album from 1993 contains Twilley Band material from 74-78, including the unreleased "Shark" which should have been put out as a single), finding some small success in 1984 with" Girls," although his albums in between had done little. Twilley still releases records.

Tulsa was also the home of guitar player Steve Allen and bassist, Ron Flynt, although they moved to the glitter of L.A. in 1977.  Finding a drummer, they began playing clubs as 20/20, impressing Bomp! head Greg Shaw enough that he issued a single, "Under The Freeway."  That in turn brought a deal, with Portrait Records, and an eponymous debut LP in 1979.  It was quintessential power pop - three minute songs, bouncy rhythms, and. strong songs (one of which, "Yellow Pills," would give its name to the fanzine and compilations of the pop revival in the '90s).

Look Out! arrived to little fanfare in 1981, and Portrait dropped the band. They tried the independent route the following year with Sex Trap, but to no avail, and called it a day, although they would regroup in the '90s.

If Oklahoma had its share of power pop bands, it was eclipsed by Illinois, which seemed to produce them by the bucketload. One of the first to emerge was the Shoes, from Zion, who took the do-it-yourself approach quite literally. Jeff and John Murphy, Gary Klebe, and Skip Meyer carrie together in 1975 and recorded Un Dan Versalles on a four~track tape recorder in a living room. Only 300 copies were pressed, and the album they recorded a year later went unreleased. Their real debut was 1977's Black Vinyl Shoes on their own Black Vinyl label. The positive reviews soon had the PVC label reprinting it for national distribution.

In many ways it was an anomaly for a home produced disc, with smooth harmonies, excellent guitar work, and songs that had grown from years of listening to the Beatles. It overrode any lo-fi ideas, aiming for the stars, and often achieving them. Bomp! put out a single on them (the excellent "Tomorrow Night," which would also appear on their sophomore effort, Present Tense), and they signed to Elektra, heading off to England to record at the Manor. Having an additional 20 tracks to play with in the studio didn't seem to make a huge difference, although the production was fancier, and they could try more things, especially vocally.

They remained with Elektra for two more albums (Tongue Twister; Boomerang) before being dropped, at which time Meyer left, and the others retreated to the home studio to make Silhouette, which only found a European release. They returned to real recording life in 1989, starting up Black Vinyl Records again; since then they've released three albums.

In the Chicago suburb of Schaumberg, the Pezband had obviously listened to the Raspberries and decided to take it one stage further, bringing in a harder rock guitar sound (it was no coincidence that at points they'd cover Jeff Beck and the Yardbirds). Tommy Gawenda handled the axe with aplomb, but the band tempered that end of the spectrum with some powerful pop songs on their 1977 Passport debut, Pezband, following a year later with their best disc, Laughing in the Dark, possibly one of the high points of power pop, with a perfect balance of melody and crunch.  A pair of live EPs were fine, but didn't give the full range of the band, and in 1981 the good, if not great, Cover to Cover proved to be their swansong.

The pezband might have made it to another level, however, had it not been for one factor: Cheap Trick.  They garnered the press and the success for all of Illinois - indeed, they were probably the most successful of all the power pop bands.  But the band's core - guitarist Rick Nielsen and bassist Tom Petersson had been around since the late '60s, first in a band called Fuse"(one album on Epic), then moving to Philadelphia and changing the name to Sick Man of Europe.  That didn't last long, and by '73 they were back in Illinois, and calling the group Cheap Trick.  Bun E. Carlos joined on drums, and after a flirtation with another singer Robin Zander hooked up with the others.

From 1975 on, they played anywhere and every, where, opening-for many major artists, and working up songs, signing with Epic, in 1976, and releasing Cheap Trick the following year.  While it didn’t flop completely, it hardly set the musical world on fire. The mix of harmonies and big guitar riffs with smart songwriting wasn't something America was ready for.   Japan, however, was ready for it, and it went gold although at that point the band was focusing on the U.S.  For In Color, issued later in '77, they toned down their approach, adding a thick sheen to the sound, and trimming off the excesses that had colored their debut. The material was still good, but perhaps more obvious, and certainly less quirky, while still acknowledging their Anglophile roots, and Midwestern grit.

It paid off; the record went up to #73.  Not a massive hit, but a big improvement. And once again it went gold in Japan.  The boys were massive there and they realized just how popular they were when they toured the country.  They sold out Budokan Arena in Tokyo, the kind of venue normally reserved for superstars like Bob Dylan, and recorded their appearance there.

That seemed like a sidestep, however, as they focused on their third album, Heaven Tonight, where the elements they'd showcased separately on their first two LPs came together perfectly. There was plenty of punch, but lots of melody as well, all mixed in with FM-friendly production, typified by the single "Surrender," which climbed to #62. There was even a Move cover, "California Man," a tribute to their most obvious heroes.

They were definitely on their way, a band who put hard rock and pop together, but no one could have, expected the next turn.  Live at Budokan had been issued in Japan.  A few copies found their way to the U.S. and disc jockeys started playing it.  Before long, it was one of the biggest import sellers ever, with "I Want You To Want Me" getting plenty of airplay.  And so, naturally, the American label issued the disc, with the appropriate single, and suddenly Cheap Trick were massive.

 

It might not have displayed the invention of their studio work, but it did capture the fun and energy of the band, and stripped down their excellent pop mannerisms. Both album and single cracked the top ten; in fact, the album remained on the charts for more than a year, selling over three million copies - a staggering figure for the period.

It also bought them time to work on their next studio record.  Now they'd made the big time, the stakes were high, and 1979's Dream Police didn't disappoint.  It built on the structure they'd created, refining it, but upped the production gloss a couple of layers. Still, the title track was a hit single, as was "Voices," and the album went platinum.

But it would be their last great record; All Shook Up, a year later, was a disappointment, even with George Martin at the helm; the ideas were few and far between, and Petersson left when it was done.  Still, the dearth of good material didn't stop it or its successor, One on One, from enjoying chart success.  But Cheap Trick's glory days were gone.  They carried on, of course, and even released a new album in 2003, their first for six years.

They weren't the sum total of the Illinois story, however.  Chicago also gave the world Off Broadway, who mined similar territory to the Trick, but never reached the same giddy heights.  Still, their 1979 debut, On, sold a more than respectable 200,000 copies, something they couldn't match when Quick Turns appeared the following year, breaking up in 1993.  They did, however, reform in 1996, after On was reissued.

Michigan was home to distinctly harder types of music, like the Stooges, MC5, and Ted Nugent.  But it also nurtured one of the giants of power pop the Romantics.  Inevitably, being from Detroit, they had an edge to their sound, along with spot-on harmonies. Formed in 1977, they started off with the single "Little White Lies" on their own Spider Records, before releasing "Tell It To Carrie" on Bomp!  That led to a contract with Nemperor Records, and a grand total of three weeks recording their debut, The Romantics, which included "That's What I Like About You."  Given its enduring fame, the single only peaked at #49, but has gone on to become one of the power pop classics.

National Breakout came later in 1980, but didn't manage to live up to its name; neither did Strictly Personal, issued the following year.  The proper breakthrough came in 1983, long after power pop had really ceased to exist.  In Heat yielded two hit singles ("Talking In Your Sleep" and "One In A Million") and went gold.  But it was, perhaps, so successful because the band had jettisoned their power pop roots for something more mainstream and obvious. They could still write a good song, but now there was calculation behind the material rather than outright pop pleasure. It was their commercial high point, and one they couldn't sustain.  In fact, there'd only be one more album of original material, in 1985, although they continue to tour.

While power pop was definitely a heartland phenomenon, it had its disciples on the coasts, too.  Not everyone blindly followed the trends; some preferred the classic pop route.  Fotomaker was one of them, and it was hardly surprising, given their pedigree: two members started life in the Rascals, while a third, Wally Bryson, had been involved in the Raspberries.  Based on Long Island, the names attracted record labels, and after signing with Atlantic in 1978, they issued their eponymous debut, with "Where Have You Been All My Life" clawing into the lower end of the charts.  Another LP.  Vis-a-vis, quickly followed, with another single making the charts, but without much impact - indeed, as the band tried to break out of power pop, they seemed to lose focus, as was evident from their final disc, 1979's Transfer Station.

One New York band that found more success overseas was Dirty Looks.  The Staten Island trio signed to Stiff in the U.K., putting out the wonderful "Let Go," which was also on their 1980 eponymous debut. However, over more tracks it was apparent that they didn't have a full focus to their sound, with the bar band ethos still heavy in their blood. Turn It Up, the following year, aimed more for the mainstream, but never really found its mark.

New York's best contribution to power pop, though, arrived a little later.  Marshall Crenshaw was born in Detroit, but ended up in New York after spending a year on the road in Beatlemania!  He'd spent a lot of his free time writing; and once settled in NYC, recorded demos, one of which landed him a deal with Betrock Records, for the single "Something's Gonna Happen." The buzz about that brought a Warner's contract, and the eponymous 1982 debut.

Unlike so many others in the power pop area, Crenshaw wasn't just comfortable with the sounds of the British Invasion; he was equally at home with '50s American rock'n'roll and '60s R&B, all of which went into the blender.  Marshall Crenshaw brought critical acclaim for his writing, but didn't manage to make him into a big-selling pop artist.

Neither did Field Day the next year. The songs and performance were still as finely crafted and ingenious (and "Whenever You're On My Mind" popped up with frequency on the fledgling MTV), but Steve Lillywhite's contemporary production worked against

the timelessness of the material. It would be two more years before more Crenshaw work hit the shelves, with Downtown, which might be considered the last part of his pop trilogy, and equally satisfying, if more subdued.  From there Crenshaw's followed strange path, moving away from pop, though still writing potent songs. 

Up in Boston, Ray Paul was holding the flag high with RPM, but it was a town that was also home to the more rock sounds of Willie Alexander, while the quirky New Wave pop of the Cars eclipsed everyone else, most certainly in the charts, and Jonathon Richman was his unique self.

The West Coast gave more of a home to power pop, although it took hold first around the Bay Area, rather than in Los Angeles. Perhaps the first standard bearers were the Rubinoos, who came together in 1973 when Jon Rubin and Tommy Dunbar first got together.  Heavily inspired by the Raspberries, they began concocting little pop delicacies, although it took four years to get a record out - and then in the independent Beserkley label, rather than any major.  But The Rubinoos offered plenty of joys, with strong writing and performances, as well as that cover of Tommy James's "I Think we're Alone Now" that put pure teenage angst and lust back into the song, even if its chart success was limited (although it proved to be more commercially successful than the album).  Back to the Drawing Board, from 1979, fared little better in sales, and faced with apathy, the band broke up (although Rubin and Dunbar did make the Party of Two EP in 1983) in 1980, returning just 20 years later with a disc that seemed as if they'd never been away - although the covers album that followed was a grave disappointment.

Beserkley was a real home to power pop, releasing records by Greg Kihn, a transplanted Marylander who'd ended 'up in San Francisco in the mid-70s.  From 1976-1986 he

released an album a year, all full of good (if not outstanding) songs that showed him to be a solid craftsman with a good ear for a hook and a winning arrangement.  He also toured frequently, which helped build his audience, record by record.  That culminated in a

1981 Top 20 single, "The Breakup Song," from Rockihnroll, arguably the strongest of his many albums.  He'd go even better two years later, when, "Jeopardy" rose to #2, taken from Kihnspiracy, another excellent offering, and "Lucky" in 1985 brought another chart single - albeit not to the same heights. By 1986 music had changed, and the hits had dried up, although Kihn has kept a fairly steady flow of albums ever since.

The foundation for much Southern California power pop actually lay in a trio that only managed to record a single EP in its three-year lifespan.  The Nerves formed in 1975, bringing together Paul Collins, Jack Lee, and Peter Case.  A year later came those four songs, self-released on the Nreves label. But each was glorious, including "Hanging On The Telephone," which would be covered, with great success, by Blondie.          

Lee would go on to make just one record (Jack Lee's Greatest Hits, Vol. 1), but the others made a greater contribution to power pop in L.A.  Collins formed the Beat in 1978, and put out a self-titled debut in 1979, after signing with Columbia.  It remains one of the classic power pop albums, especially "Don't Wait Up For Me Tonight," which should have been a hit single.  It's a shame that it took three years for a follow up to appear - credited to Paul Collins' Beat, presumably to avoid confusion with the English Beat - but when The Kids are the Same arrived, it made no more impact than the first record. There was one last EP with a different lineup before calling it a day in 1983, but Collins did return to recording in the '90s.

Peter Case, however, did manage to go on to bigger and better things.  After the Nerves broke up he formed the Plimsouls, who managed to mingle their British power pop influences with a strong punk esthetic, creating something that verged on New Wave, but never succumbed to the trendiness of that genre.

The Zero Hour EP in 1980 showed they were onto something, and they'd fully developed it by the time of The Plimsouls in 1981 (which included much of Zero Hour).  Songs like "How Long Will It Take" had Velcro hooks and plenty of rambunctious energy, proving that Peter Case was possibly the best writer to emerge from the second wave of power pop bands.  But the best was yet to come.  Their song" A Million Miles Away" appeared on the soundtrack of 1982's movie Valley Girl, standing out from everything else on the record (or in the film - even the performance by a young Nicholas Cage).

That brought a contract from Geffen, and a new album in 1983, Everywhere at Once. With a slicker production, the rough edges were smoothed away - not always a good thing - but Case's songs were remarkable, and the band tore into them, especially "A Million Miles Away" (arguably one of the best songs of the 1980s).  They could also cut it live, as One Night in America, released in 1988, long after they'd broken up, clearly proves.  The problem was, no one was buying their records - the old story, that's been the downfall of so many bands. Case went on to a career as a lauded roots singer-songwriter.

While they had the critics salivating, the Plimsouls weren't the L.A. band that made the record label accountants rub their hands. That honor belonged to the Knack. Formed by Doug Fieger in 1978, they went huge, of course, with the annoying (but memorable) "My Sharona," working on an update of the Beatles '64 sound. Get the Knack in 1979 was huge, selling a total of five million copies.  And, it has to be admitted, it was a good album.  There were plenty of catchy songs on it, played and arranged well, with a

good deal of pop smarts and reverence in the mix.  Even their second album,  ...But the Little Girls Understand had its moments, although they were fewer and farther between. Rushed out less than a year after the debut, it lacked, the creative force and nonchalant intelligence. By the time of 1981's Round Trip, the band had suffered the fate of so many pop phenomena and lasted past their sell-by date - although it was possibly their most satisfying release musically.  However, they split up - only to return 10 years later with the appalling Serious Fun.

Power Pop in the U.K.

Put simply, there wasn't really a power pop scene as such in Britain, in large part because the term wasn't used.  Artists who would have fallen under its umbrella were either New Wave, or slotted in the general "pop" pigeonhole.

The Retards and the Motors (or Motors alum Bram Tchaikovsky), for example, are generally considered New Wave, although their music perhaps falls more easily within power pop. And the Records certainly recorded one of Britain's power pop classics in "Starry Eyes," that owed a great deal to the Searchers and Byrds.

Formed in 1977, following the demise of pub rockers Kursaal Flyers, the band was a showcase for the pop writing talents of drummer Will Birch and guitarist John Wicks. The first thing out of the gate was the fabulous "Starry Eyes," on the tiny Record Company label in 1978.  That brought a contract with Virgin, and Shades in Bed (called simply The Records in the U.S.) appeared in 1979, a seminal piece of pop (although, in retrospect, the excellent material is spoiled by a thin, trebly production).  Crashes, a year later, didn't have quite the joie de vivre of its predecessor, although it possessed one near-perfect song, "Hearts In Her Eyes," that had been written for the Searchers.  With their emphasis on the 12-string sound in the music, the Records picked up on what the Searchers had begun (and helped blaze a trail for some of the jangle-pop of the '80s).

And yes, the Searchers had returned in the wake of New Wave. They'd been inactive since 1972, but Seymour Stein' signed them to his Sire label for a pair of albums, which proved to be among the best they'd ever done.  Not only did The Searchers and Love's Melodies give a depth to the sound that had often been missing in the '60s, they had class-A material, whether covering Big Star or John Fogerty.  And their appearance among the younger bands gave power pop a firm connection to its '60s roots and inspiration.

But in Britain many of the musicians had a connection with what had gone before: the Motors, for example, came out of the wreckage of pub rock, which had harked back to simpler rock'n'roll.  Former Ducks Deluxe members Nick Garvey and Andy McMaster started the band in 1977, roping in Tchaikovsky.  Their first single "Dancing The Night

Away" was a glorious pop song, although the album from which it came, The Motors, was a transition between basic pub rock and pop.  By 1978's Approved by the Motors they'd found their sound, and both" Airporf': and "ForgetAboutYou" became hit'singles. Following that, the band broke up, with Garvey and McMaster releasing Tenement Steps under the Motors moniker in 1980.

Tchaikovsky (whose real name was the more prosaic Peter Bramall) had begun recording his own material while the Motors were making their second album, putting out the well-received single "Sara Smiles."  After the band split, he signed with the new Radar label, with Strange Man Changed Man coming in 1979.  Produced by Garvey, it included

"Girl Of My Dreams," which became a hit on both sides of the Atlantic.  The Russians are Coming (called Pressure in America) didn't continue the. quality/and by 1981's Funland Tchaikovsky's fun was actually over:

Ducks Deluxe wasn't the only pub rock outfit to donate talent to power pop.  Brinsley Schwarz, one of the first pub rockers, proved that the parts were actually more than the whole after they split up.

Ian Gomm forsook London's bright lights once the group ended, building a studio in Wales. In addition to recording other bands, he was writing new songs (he'd composed very little for Brinsley Schwarz).  They appeared as Summer Holiday in 1978, including the glorious "Hold On," which became as U.S. top twenty hit when released as a single from Gomm with the Wind (the title of the shorter American version).  The .album itself was overlooked, even though Gomm toured - a fate that awaited What A Blow, The Village Voice, and Images, at which point he stopped recording for more than a decade.

The dean of British power pop also emerged from Brinsley Schwarz, although he made his name as solo artist by releasing what was deemed the first "punk" single (which it wasn't).  Nick Lowe had proved his writing smarts many times over (his "What's So Funny 'Bout Peace, Love And Understanding" would eventually make him a millionaire).

 

After a pair of novelty records. under the names the Tartan Horde and the Disco Brothers, he signed to the brand-new Stiff label, and released "So It Goes"/"Heart Of The City" in 1976, which helped prime the pump for punk.  He was also earning a reputation as a producer, working with the Damned and Graham Parker, among others.  But it was 1978's Jesus of Cool (Pure Pop for Now People in the God-fearing States) that made him into a real cult hero.  Witty, catchy, irreverent, and full of hooks, it really was pure, smart pop, each track able to stand on its own.

Labour of Lust, a year later, was more cohesive, thanks to the presence of Rockpile backing him (the album was made simultaneously with Repeat When

Necessary from fellow Piler Dave Edmunds).  And it had "Cruel To Be Kind" (co-written with Gomm), a single that played perfectly on both sides of the pond.  While Rockpile's sole album veered between power pop and more roots rock, Lowe revisited pop terrain on 1982's Nick the Knife, which included the endearing "Heart" - although it would be the last time his melodies would shine with chart possibilities before he, too, headed for a career in rootsier territory.

By the mid '80s, power pop was really another note in the history books.  But in music all things come around again.  And the love of pure pop never vanishes completely.  By the end of the '80s there was already a power pop revival in place, as bands like Material Issue, Velvet Crush, the Posies, Bill Lloyd, and Matthew Sweet began releasing records. .

It remained more of an underground movement, although a few items, such as Sweet's Girlfriend achieved brief moments of fame.  And underground it's remained ever .since, never going away, but never destined to return to the big time, either: Maybe that's a good thing.  It offers the bands a chance to write and play the music they want, without the commercial pressure.  You might have to search a little these days to find power pop, but it's still there.  And from the look of things, it always will be.

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