10cc – “I’m Not In Love”
“I’m Not In Love” is 10cc’s most famous song, and surely deservedly – it’s the one where their smarts crash and fragment on some vicious emotional reefs, which is also what the song’s about. So it’s a neat (conceptual) package even before you factor in the extraordinary production.
But isn’t it all a bit heavy handed? He’s not in love (but really he is) – cast your mind back a couple of number ones and wouldn’t Tammy or her husband have wrapped that old theme up in two minutes? The greatness of 10cc’s song, though, isn’t in the theme, its in the exploration of the implicate consequences of repression, of turning your back on love: the saddest moment in a sad song is the satisfaction in the singer’s voice when he lays down his stupid law: “Oh, you’ll wait a long time for me.” This isn’t a song about irony, it’s a song about crippling emotional phobia. (And the “big boys don’t cry” bit, hinting where that phobia comes from, is kind of unsubtle, but no less moving for that.)
The band wrap this song in suffocating gauze: a cold, cossetting synthesised vocal fog with the bare semblance of a beat padding underneath, often puttering out or being smothered completely. No other No.1 sounds quite like it: a brave, thoroughly apt production for a chilling record.
8
Good call on Fox upthread – Kenny Young, the American expat responsible for “Under The Boardwalk” and “Captain Of Your Ship” who came over to Britain at the end of the sixties and wrote most of Clodagh Rodgers’, um, deepest hits, who then proceeded to invent the eighties early with the luxuriously luscious Australian folkie Susan Traynor, a.k.a. Noosha Fox. There’s some amazing stuff on both (Noosha) Fox albums which clearly anticipates both Clare Grogan and Kate Bush in terms of both vocal delivery and attitude and experimental production techniques. Highly underrated, still (though Fox – Noosha = Yellow Dog; not so good a combination, could-ah-stay could-ah-ap stay ad infinitum).
ELO in ’75 – that would have been Eldorado, which also has substantial claims in the sonic invention department and certainly broke them big time in the States but did next to nothing in Britain; it wasn’t until their next album that we finally caught up (and indeed ELO will sadly not trouble Popular with the exception of one not very representative “team-up” in 1980).
Much of the American success of Eldorado was ascribed to the evocative Wizard Of Oz-inspired album cover. When then ELO manager Sharon Arden (later Osbourne) presented the album artwork to ELO for their perusal, top Tory drummer Bev “Bev” Bevan recalls that he nearly fell off his seat (don’t know whether he was drumming at the time) spluttering with bewilderment, saying the cover was rubbish and when Sharon countered with: “But don’t you get it? It’s the Wizard Of Oz!,” “Bev” replied “What the fook is Wizardofoz – gimme a Heineken!”
I wrote a post about the Eldorado sleeve on my blog a while ago. Lovely, lovely image.
Plug over.
I don’t have any evocative personal memories of “I’m Not In Love” at all which is a bummer as it seems perfect for that sort of wistful nostalgia. Something I think Sofia Coppola captured beautifully when she used it for the school dance scene in “The Virgin Suicides”
Did someone mention Miss Clodagh? I had (and continue to have) a fixation about her. Have I not mentioned this?
Noosha Fox? Yes, please. She did a little ditty called “Georgina Bailey”, which told the tale of an English girl being sent to school in France under the stewardship of an uncle, a dance teacher. Nubile Georgina promptly develops a crush on him. Alas the uncle’s talent as a exponant of tripping the light fantastic is exemplified by a pronounced lightness of foot, which Georgina in her innocence is unable to detect and thus her dreams of love (incestuous in any case) come to nought. I thought that this record was wonderfully funny but was equally astonished that it wasn’t banned. It certainly would be now, of course. Indeed the police would almost certainly step in.
Yellow Dog also came out with an excellently amusing single “Just One More Night”, again a narration, this time about a guy desperately trying get rid of an unwanted woman from his home. There was also a track called “For Whatever It’s Worth”, which I thought was a belter but sunk without trace.
A fascinating thread, and particularly for me as – OK, deep breath, here goes – I was never all that struck by “I’m Not In Love” at the time, and I’ve never given it much thought since. I suppose that I’d always made the same interpretation as Rosie (#10), which I also think is the most widespread interpetation… but now, listening more closely to the lyrics and picking up on the creepier undertones for the first time, I’m not so sure.
As to why I was never all that struck by the song at the time: I suppose it just sounded too smooth for my proggy 13-year old tastes. Yes, the sonic innovation is remarkable and prescient – I hear that now – but in my self-discovered squddly-widdly world of Yes and Gong and Kevin Ayers and early Soft Machine and The White Album, it failed to make any impact.
And then there was also the almost instant “Classic Track” reverence – the song was voted Best! Single! Ever! in a Capital Radio poll the following year, and my study-mates had the wall chart to prove it – which also put me off, as did any overt displays of pedestal-placing.
But perhaps the truth of the matter was more simple than that: the song deals with complex adult emotions, and I was still too young to grasp them.
By the way, while we’re on the covers: search YouTube, and you’ll find a version from last year by Queen Latifah, whose Soul Passion and Honesty (pace MC) misses all possible points.
Oh, and a PS: One of my classmates used to play a version of this on his guitar – to some acclaim – which he had re-titled “W@nking Phase”. (“I’m not in love, it’s just a w@nking phase I’m going through…”) Boys will be boys!
As a six year old at the time, I do remember the song very vividly from TOTP and shows like that, because I’d not heard anything similar before. I liked it at the time for its difference to anything else. I remember my father borrowing “The original soundtrack” from a works music club and returning it the next day saying it was unlistenable, except for this song which landed on a compilation tape for the car. Even at six I knew what I liked and there were songs which reached number one from this year which I absolutely hated, and for which I shall reserve my vitriol (you’ll find out in time).
So, at six I liked it but I didn’t understand it lyrically or emotionally, and nothing else really sounded like it then or now – I must add that “Souvenir” by OMD may be indebted to this song as well, seeing as the basis for that song was some choral singers tuning up and singing constant scales and the wash of voices they created. From a distance of another 32 years I can appreciate the lyric, and – um – I can see the stalker mentality behind it. I suppose I’ve been in both positions actually – the narrator and the object of (non)-affection – and it’s not much fun on either side. But that’s grown up talk. At six, it just was something special I didn’t understand – and that’s probably something I still look for in music.
Hmm. I just seem to have repeated myself about three times there. Sorry. And I’ve just noticed the EDIT key. Oh well.
More on the “stalker” question, though on a tangent: it’s interesting that one of the writers said later that the song is — I can’t remember the exact quote from above, but — more or less about a stalker, in that, as I rememeber it, the term “stalker” as we use it these days — for someone obsessed with following or surveilling or hounding a particular love- or hate- object, usually to the point of violence or the threat of it — hadn’t been coined, or at least wasn’t widely used, in the mid-70s. I have a feeling that it came into being either around the time of “Fatal Attraction” or perhaps 7-8 years earlier when John Hinkley shot Ronald Reagan as part of his stalking of Jodie Foster (or Chapman/Lennon). And not only wasn’t the term in general use (unless I’m mistaken), I’m not sure the concept of the stalker persona had really been established in popular culture before then. At least I can’t think of any examples from movies. Serial killers abounded, but they were more fixated on the act than the victim; there was “Cape Fear” and “Strangers on a Train,” but the first was based on revenge, and the latter — well, that’s pretty close actually, but the twist of trading murders somewhat outweighs the Robert Walker’s fixation on Farley Granger himself… This is all off the top of my head: am I way off the mark and missing some obvious, pre-Hinckley examples of stalkers in reality or popular-culture? (oh and of course Hinckley’s obsession grew out of Taxi Driver, which is a good proto-stalker movie example). I guess my point would be that the “I’m Not in Love” writer may have been reading backwards and exaggerating an aspect of the song’s storyline based on later cultural ideas.
Another possible reason why INIL failed to grab me: I’d enjoyed 10cc’s singles up until then, but had them pegged as wry, satirical, whimsical and fun. (Especially the vividly condensed, almost filmic mini-saga of “The Dean And I”, which I can still spool note-for-note through my mental jukebox.) Now all of a sudden they had gone soppy and sincere on me, pouting moodily to camera through a soft-focus lens, and I felt vaguely betrayed.
(By the time of “I’m Mandy Fly Me”, we were back in synch with each other, but only fleetingly, and I know which side of the fence I’ll be standing in the forthcoming Epic Showdown!)
“play misty for me” (1971): clint eastwood is a DJ pestered by an obsessed fan <— so the idea was around (acc.wiki california was the first place to enact anti-stalker laws, after a series of cases in the 90s, all involving minor celebrities; and my guess is that the idea — and indeed the behaviour — went back some way before this within and around the hollywood community…)
I also remember a British TV play circa 1974 which dealt with stalker-type issues – it creeped the hell out of me at the time.
also just in terms of popfan behaviour — off the map of fictional retelling but ON the map of stories pop-industry workers would be well aware of — i find it hard to believe that the 60s rock explosion didn’t bring a TON of obsessive and deluded fans out of the woodwork to dog their idols: certainly i remember reading about the beatlemaniacs who hung around abbey road the whole time in the late 60s; the beatles had to run this gauntlet, and it was often truculent and semi-hostile (esp.when new beatle GFs had just hit the news)
10cc wd be perfectly well aware of such tales
true though that the word “stalker” in its current sense probably didn’t emerge till the 80s or so
Yes, yes, “play misty for me,” I wish I’d remembered that one! Definitely the model for Fatal Attraction and the sub-genre it spawned!
It always amazes me how all the contributors, who were only “bairns” at the time, can come up with so many interesting insights into these songs !
Just for the record – I can’t see the stalker thing all. I hear a guy shuting down all the emotions because he has been overwhelmed by what ? Her Beauty ? His Committment ? A previuos Rejection ? A lost Mommy ?
But it is classic stuff and I am so glad it’s appreciated , to some degree by everyone….
Re: #37. I seem to remember seeing some film around the time of “Imagine” where John Lennon is being accosted by a fan who demands to know what “You can syndicate every boat you row” means, and the guy’s really well meaning but persistent, but in the end John says “It’s just words, you know, it doesn’t MEAN anything”. So said stalkerish pop fans did exist even then. AJ Weberman as well, come to think of it.
I’m with Brian. I didn’t see the stalker back in the day (I was 14) and I don’t really see him now, despite this most excellent blog. Good debate, though.
If you lot want a REAL stalker song, try Lil’ George Macrae with the most unsubtle “I Can’t Leave You Alone”. You don’t need Michael Mansfield to prove that one. Durty wee bugger! (That’s George, not Michael)
And, sorry to mention Sting again, ,but there was my wife’s official courting song ” Every Breath You Take”.
Oh, and on the new ” Eagles ” LP – a very weird, obssesive number is ” Waiting in The Weeds “. Scary, in fact. Perfectly rendered.
For a chilling stalker-song, try ‘Let Me Be There’ recorded by Elvis, Olivia Newton-John, and many others. It sounds vaguely romantic at first listening, but then imagine it being sung softly by a stranger onto your answer machine.
Re: Rob M’s comment about OMD’s Souvenir(#31)- spot on!Exactly what i was on about when i was talking about INILs influence on early 80s pop in my initial post- cant believe i didnt think of it meself..
Re: stalker songs in general- although lyrically not especially relevant surely the video for J Timberlake’s Cry Me A River is the ultimate in pop stalkerdom? I remember how frankly disturbing it was when i first saw it. Shame we won’t be covering the track in (approx) 6 years time- abirrovaclassic IMO.
As you know, I’m not really au fait with more recent developments in the singles chart as I’ve been too busy regressing into stuff that was before even my, but would that be Cry Me A River as in Julie London’s Cry Me A River? Because I adore that song in that version and if it had been a number one it would have been a ten right down the middle, and Mr Timberlake surely had a cheek thinking he could come close.
But then again, maybe it was a different song…
It’s a different song, though the reference is intentional – like the London track, it’s a kiss-off to an ex (in this case Ms.Spears, who the video none-too-subtly references).
This was part of a quiz question I used a couple of years back – along with tATu’s “All The Things She Said” and Oasis’s “Songbird” it was the first UK top three to comprise entirely recycled titles (Simple Minds and Kenny G having used the other titles).
I’m with Mike and Brian above on the stalker angle and preference for 10cc’s other, sparkier, singles (particularly I’m Mandy), and for me the subtle bass line under the “Big boys don’t cry” section is the best thing about this one. But that’s the joy of Popular, in that people who care deeply about a song can express just why it moves them so, and the analysis and discussion open up entire new vistas on the songs and the music. More power to its elbow.
A little research on Wikipedia tells me that Julie London got to number 22 with CMAR in 1957. That feels like an injustice to me, or maybe 1957 audiences in Britain weren’t ready for something which, to me at least, seems so timeless.
I also noted a most impressive list of others who have recorded it. Some of the names boggle the mind, but having thought that Billie Holiday would have sent the song into orbit, she’s not on the list. All the same, Julie London gives it a silky menace that would be hard to match.
Swerving, I had an idea for a collection of short stories based on songs (yes, yes, I’ve no doubt it’s been done before.) CMAR would make a good basis for one, and so, returning to topic, and taking the current debate into account, would INIL.