The lush romanticism of Pet Shop Boys
Some thoughts on one of the most singular pop groups of all time
Listen to this Pet Shop Boys, Literally playlist I made with songs from the book
“We normally do things that we think the people that we don’t like wouldn’t like” - Neil Tennant of Pet Shop Boys
Two blokes meet at a stereo store in Chelsea in 1981. Chris Lowe grew up in the seaside town of Blackpool, Neil Tennant is from the northern outpost of Newcastle upon Tyne. They start making tunes together right away, bonding over their mutual appreciation of obscure American disco producer Bobby O (who I know best for his blistering track, “I’m So Hot For You”). Two years later, Neil is asked to travel to New York to profile The Police for his day job as a music journalist for Smash Hits. While in NYC, he reaches out to Bobby O, meets up with him and Bobby agrees to produce some music for the group. One of those songs turns out to be “West End Girls.”
A song that observes London’s social strata with the trenchant insight that only two outsiders could possibly muster, “West End Girls” is an instant classic hybrid of plainly spoken raps and burbling electronic beats that captivated me from the first moment I heard them. Tennant’s lyrics had a streetwise, ambiguously perverse edge to them. And the group’s aesthetic was the inverse of any other pop group on the charts in the ‘80s. They dressed sharp but they weren’t showy. They didn’t smile or beg for your attention. Chris completely ignored the camera. They were like characters from a lost art school film. The single was re-released by EMI after they broke away from Bobby O and it turned the group into household names.
For Christmas, I received Chris Heath’s Pet Shop Boys, Literally, a book that follows the group on their very first tour in 1989, which took them to stadiums in Hong Kong, Japan and then back to the UK. As is common with anything related to the group, even the book’s design is tastefully considered. It’s probably the only hardcover book that I own with a full colour matte print on it instead of a dust sleeve.
The completeness and consistency of their creative vision is one of the things that has always drawn me to the Pet Shop Boys. Their videos, covers and press photos all feel like they’re from the same singular artistic universe, something that inspired me while making Parallel World. In the book, Neil says that their photos are meant to look as if “‘something just happened’ or ‘something is about to happen’” and that they should never look “cosmetic.”
That aesthetic consistency also ties into their live show in the ‘80s, which was more akin to a theatrical play than a rock show. Directed by filmmaker, author and stage designer Derek Jarman, they have musicians, back up singers, dancers, pre-programmed beats that are triggered live, costume changes and projections of a short film that was shot explicitly for use on the tour, long before such details were commonplace at live shows.
Author Chris Heath follows them through Asia as they grapple with the minutiae of stardom: rehearsals, photo opportunities, hysterical fans, press obligations, technical difficulties, shopping trips. There’s a nice moment where Heath sits in on one of the group’s interviews with a British tabloid and compares what was actually said with what they decided to publish with hilarious results. The band’s disdain for the typical rock show is palpable, as they grouse about the cliché of fans with lighters and their hands in the air.
Neil has an analytical mind and a knack for pop music history that ties into his former job as a music critic. He talks about how one of the goals of the group is to be “mass market without watering down anything we’ve ever done.” Neil unironically enjoys showtunes. He snatches lyrics and song titles from random conversations he has at the club, searching for what he calls “lush romanticism.” Chris is a bit of a naughty schoolboy who only seems to be happy when he’s raving. He keeps the group firmly grounded in the club.
They gossip and snipe at other groups. They diss the royal family. They rail against the superficial social conscience of U2 (about pop stars who get political: “they don’t know any more about it than anybody else - probably less.”) They leave a bar because the DJ is playing the Beatles. They’re obsessed with a band called Bros that was more popping than them in the UK back in 1989. That was a moment where I was like “damn, the bands back then were just like us today!” Sometimes a group can seem epoch-defining in the moment but might slowly disappear from the public consciousness over time.
Throughout the book, the Boys are concerned with being misunderstood, which makes sense because they are a complicated group. Their occasional use of irony, camp and sarcasm can sometimes make their entire project appear insincere. Neil sees the group as being in the tradition of Noël Coward but they keep getting lumped in with the pop acts of their time. Their music itself is also sonically quite strange, essentially acid hip-house tracks and subversive synth pop jams with the emotional weight of classic showtunes.
This was an unprecedented musical hybrid that only worked because of their unwavering affinity for the source material. They engaged with Black hip-hop and dance music culture with pure, wild curiosity — not with an eye for exploitation. Neil describes the group’s formula as “take the contemporary dance feel of the moment and write a good pop song that goes with it.” This is wonderful advice that feels as fresh today as it did back in 1989.
Buy Pet Shop Boys, Literally here
I performed “SENNA” live on CBC Television for New Year’s Eve at Blue Mountain Resort, likely frightening several family households who had no idea what they were in for. You can catch it here.
On Christmas Day, there was a new episode of Frank Ocean’s Blonded Radio featuring Wim Hof where he quietly released a new piano-based stream of consciousness freestyle called “Come On World, You Can't Go!”
I came across Reconstructions: Architecture and Blackness in America at the MoMA Design Store and it sounds really compelling
After glumly plodding through last Friday’s new releases like a weathered coal miner and finding nothing of interest, I went back a couple weeks and checked out Magic by Nas. Surprised by how much I’m enjoying it but maybe I’m just washed!!! This was a nice sequence from “Speechless”:
“Pick a down on his luck rapper, bet he broke
With the arrogance of a crackhead mad at a weed smoker
Or a pill taker who hate a distilled wine drinker
A killer who use a gun to hate on a knife swinger”
Sharks shirts are on the way for everyone who ordered! Sorry for the delay. Still got a few of these Parallel World long sleeves kicking around, get one while you still can:
You can find me updating my playlist, DJing on Twitch or hanging on Twitter and Instagram. You can listen to Cadence Weapon music on Spotify, Apple Music and Bandcamp
Wonderful piece! Not just reading it from there perspective of a fan talking about a band they love, but also for the insists into PSB! Plus the excellent playlist. Thank you!
Unexpected piece—I love it!