THE PRETENDERS – “Brass In Pocket”
I had a pub conversation once about Radiohead’s “Creep”, where we decided the ideal cover would be one grounded in full-on swagger, simply inverting every “I” and “You” in the song: “I’m so fucking special – you wish you were special…you’re a creep!”. “Brass In Pocket” isn’t quite what we were getting at – there’s no sense that Chrissie Hynde’s target is any weaker than her, even if his capitulation is inevitable – but as an exercise in total confidence it takes some beating. The danger in the song is that its determination could shade into desperation, but when you listen to it you never once doubt that Hynde’s got the moves to back up her words: if anything, the song’s a challenge to her lover-to-be to step up and match her.
The band keep things steady in the background, cresting and rolling back unobtrusively to give their singer the space and stage she needs – and her vocal is a box-of-tricks performance, snapping from purr to pounce in the space of a line. Without it, actually, the song is nothing at all – there’s no particuarly good hooks in “Brass In Pocket”, no chorus, just build and force: if you don’t like Hynde’s voice there’s not a lot of room for you to enjoy it. And the honest truth is, I don’t like it – she’s borrowing a lot from Patti Smith but there’s a spontaneity in Smith’s singing, a sense that her squeals and shouts are unbidden responses to musical and emotional momentum. I don’t hear that in Hynde, and it means I can’t buy into her technique here. Of course, it’s a song about going after what you want with laser focus, so no surprise that the delivery’s kind of calculating – but this is one of those singles where I can understand exactly why it’s loved, but can’t join in myself.
5
Before the main body of comments, a message from a one-time regular, printed w/o alteration or comment as a last request:
NOW IS THE TIME TO SAY GOODBYE…
Well, Popular Pals, that’s it for me. We’ve reached 1980 and true to my word, ahm a-checkin’ out. I joined the blog early in 2006 when the group was already discussing spring 1972. How I wish I had found you all earlier, although this itself was a case of serendipity. I had initially googled The Overlanders one lazy day, remembering that I had been at school as far back as 1966 with the son of one of the band members. One of the links led me to some bugger called Tom Ewing and suddenly I found myself trapped in his dream.
Popular has provided me with a lot a pleasure from then until now and for this I thank our founder, Mr Ewing, who is a magnificent Master of Ceremonies. The quality of his writing has been simply breathtaking and this is aside from his obvious knowledge of his brief, most of which must have been learned as a history, an obstacle not presented to those who were there at the time. He has in addition proved to be an admirably objective arbitrator, being faced as he is, with a group of alarmingly passionate and erudite commentators, who take great delight in in revealing disagreements with each other, sometimes with hilarious but other times unfortunate results. Tatty bye too to my fellow bloggers, many of whom were here when I arrived. I shall single none of you out, even though I have cultivated a contact with one of you in another place and shall soon come face to face with another stalwart when I head for the northern wastes to watch Eastbourne Borough continue their struggle in the top flight of non-league football. Basically, I value you all. It’s been good exchanging views with everyone on all kinds of everything (sic). I’m sure the bandwagon will roll on sans Waldo. And I may well threaten you with an appearance at a future drinkie.
I just need to mention that after a titanic struggle I have, it seems, coerced a young friend of mine, “Waldo’s protégé”, to pick up the mantle. His name is Peter and he is a site manager down in Eastbourne. Peter was born in 1975 when I was already a teenager. That makes him 33 now. I can’t promise jokes but he’ll be a far more interesting overseer of the eighties and beyond than I could ever hope (or want) to be. I just hope he sticks with it. Up to him, of course.
So then, as Uncle Mac was apt to say, “Goodnight children, everywhere!” This has been a most pleasurable interlude for me but we are now entering territory which held other memories for me, as a man not as a boy. It’s 1980, I am now approaching nineteen (a final kiss goodbye to the Bun!), my childhood is over and life goes on.
Happy Days!
May your god go with you,
Love and happiness,
Waldo and out.
I can’t agree there are no hooks in “Brass In Pocket”. There are guitar hooks a-plenty from the much underrated and sadly prematurely deceased, James-Honeyman Scott, a player with a Keith Richardesque fondness for the rock’n'roll lifestyle, but unfortunately for him, not Mr Richard’s constitution.
His guitar playing though was not remotely Richard-like, but rather puts me in mind (in this song and the beautiful follow-up “Talk of the Town”) of classic Smiths. It’s probably no coincidence that Johnny Marr ended up joing the Pretenders – I’m sure the attraction was mutual.
Of course, the accusation could be levelled at The Smiths that they never had any hooks or choruses in the conventional sense, but many of their singles were like “Brass In Pocket” – 3 minutes (or less) of pop bliss built on fluid guitar patterns weaving around an idiosyncratic and charismatic vocal performer. Come to think of it, Hynde and Morrissey had plenty in common too – both had a connection with the NME (Hynde as writer, Morrissey as contributor – at least to the letters page), and both of course were/are staunch publicly declared anti-meat eating campaigners.
Ringing in the 1980s, this felt fresh and new, although in retrospect I think that’s more to do with the fact that it displaced Pink Floyd at the top. Ms Hynde had been around trying to break it as a musician for a while, and The Pretenders had already had two minor hits in 79. While the track itself – as with the band – was obviously very grounded in the Sixties.
Still, an 8 from me – it’s a memorable song, with lots of great lines and I love Chrissie Hynde’s vocals, although I never understood what “Detroit-leaning” meant (if indeed, that’s what she was singing).
Re 1 – Goodbye Waldo! I greatly enjoyed reading your contributions, and I’m sorry you are not sticking around for the best bit – the next two and a half years!!
Come on, you’ll only be 21 at that point!
Good point on “no hooks” Conrad – given how the song sticks in the head that was an exaggeration on my part.
I like “Talk Of The Town” a lot more – and yes that fluid jangly sound was surely an inspiration for the Smiths.
My favourite thing about this song: a great bit of early-80s literalism in the video with the pointing to the cafe menu when “special!” is sung.
Also:
EMERGENCY ASSISTANCE NEEDED – I only have one of the tracks for the next #1 (the lead track I believe). Can anyone brave the bunny and get me the others over the weekend?
Waldo, you know what I thought of your departure – that it was somewhat premature. You’re a couple of years older than me and I know that the capacity to commentate on these entries won’t desert me in a couple of Popular-years’ time, even if there’s a notable dip in my affection for many of them. You’re always welcome back, and don’t forget there’s nothing to stop you rummaging systematically through those pre-’72 entries and regaling us with more quality verdicts. Meantime, welcome along Peter and we look forward to your contributions.
There’s another Popular regular whose presence we’re missing as we embark upon the 80s, one whose brilliant writing, expertise and insights I’m going to miss greatly and I’m sure we all will. Sadly the Mr Hyde came out from behind the Dr Jekyll once too often and the boats seem to have been burned. It would be nice if it were possible to have an equally dignified valedictory post from DJP, but we can’t have everything can we John?
On to the Pretenders, and this one reminds me a little of what we were saying about “Make Me Smile” five Popular-years ago: it’s good, better than 80% of the records we’ll come across on here, but not THAT good. I reckon many of us could compile a list of better Pretenders songs – Kid, Stop Your Sobbing, 2000 Miles, Hymn to Her, I’ll stop there but I’d probably put it in the bottom half of the band’s league table. Compared to them it plods just a little, but That Voice is present and correct and always sexy as hell.
Oh, and apparently (according to the Songfacts website) “Detroit leaning” refers to a driving technique popular in Detroit – one hand on the wheel, head back on the headrest. Or alternatively she’s singing “Ditalini” which is Italian for a pleasurable activity women engage in on their own. True or bluff, Frank…?
Re 5, Tom – I can try and email you mp3s tonight.
having utterly adored “stop yr sobbin” i recall being puzzled and disappointed by this — at the time it seemed unfocused to me, all business and no THING — i liked cleaner, futurist lines really, especially at the time, and this seemed somehow messy without being dirty, and old-fashioned in a way i was (then) highly suspicious of
#7 – excellent! Thanks!
#2 watch: A couple of weeks for Billy Preston & Syreeta Wright’s ‘With You I’m Born Again’. Watching/hearing this now for the first time on YouTube…I can see why this might’ve appealed during the long winter nights although it feels a few years too late.
This was an odd #1. For it’s first five weeks on the chart it looked like it would be about as successful as their two earlier (excellent) singles, “Stop Your Sobbing”, and “Kid”, then it suddenly jumped from #30 to #10 the week before Christmas before finally hitting the top on its 10th week on the chart.
The post-Christmas lull obviously helped it, as the competition wasn’t great – Billy Preston & Syreeta, a good KC and the Sunshine Band Song, Madness’s “My Girl” (a sure fire #1 if it had come out a year or so later) – indeed the record which would knock it off the charts wasn’t even out when this hit the top for the first of its two weeks.
So what about the song? Probably the third best Pretenders hit to date, and there were definitely better things to come – “Talk Of The Town”, “Day After Day” and my own favourite “Message of Love”.
I think there are hooks; and there are unintelligible lyrics – is that “sidestep” she says? It’s pleasant enough, but a real surprise #1, and it probably didn’t really deserve to be there. I’m sure Chrissie Hynde was thankful for that lack of competition.
I can’t think of Chrissy Hynde as a bratty young NME upstart (was this ever actually the case?) – I associate her and the Pretenders with drivetime easy-listening. Not Capital Fm but Capital GOLD! It’s not a dreadful song and it’s definitely catchy, but I couldn’t say it’s exciting or inspiring or even fun. I’d chuck this in the ’100 Greatest Songs To Bore Your Children With’ pile.
I’m de-lurking as the blog hits the Eighties and as the teenage me hit sufficient purchasing power to follow the charts and buy the music. Which is a tad ironic given that this is a record which I recall little contemporaneous affection for, but which earns respect in retrospect.
Like others, I don’t think its the best Pretenders record. But from a 2008 perspective I do think it sounds oddly, compellingly, modern and far less dated than many of the more overtly ‘modern’ songs which will follow in the next couple of years. It’s a memorable record, more than a song, and I still can’t hear it without seeing Hynde’s performance.
The more de-lurkers the better pjb – you don’t have to have been a teenager to have valid opinions, why not revisit the earlier stuff as well?
Have to agree that, much as I like it, it isn’t a patch on the gorgeous Kid which stalled at 33 the year before, or several of the singles that followed. The lift onto the chorus, though (“Oh-ho, cos I…”), is quite heart in mouth and absolutely sells the song. As for the Smiths influence, the first time I heard Sandie Shaw’s I Don’t Owe You Anything (flip of Hand In Glove) on the radio I assumed it was The Pretenders.
Re 11: I remember the lyrics in Smash Hits including the line “Detroit leaning” but it still sounds to me like Dieter Liening, a former Rot-Weiss Essen left back.
The latest ‘replacement’ for James Honeyman-Scott btw is Muswell Hill’s James Walbourn, habituee of the Boogaloo and late of Saint Etienne.
Well, I was only -2.5 when this song hit #1 but that doesn’t stop me.
I really like the swagger of this song. True, the hooks aren’t anything special (The main guitar hook is really catchy though), but it’s the tone to this song that drags me in. As a sheer force I think this is underrated here. It’s a very slight song, espeically for a number one, but either this or “Talk of the Town” is my favorite Pretenders song. Call it a 7 or 8.
The Pretenders are well remembered here in the US, but a review of wiki shows they were never super popular. They only had 2 top ten hits (“Back on the Chain Gang” #5 and “Don’t Get Me Wrong” #10…if memory serves Carrie Underwood’s cover of “I’ll Stand By You” hit #6). This song peaked at #14 in the US.
Preface: so long, Waldo! Like many others, I’ve greatly enjoyed reading your observations, reminiscences, anecdotes and quips. And I’ll also greatly miss sharing these comments threads with Marcello, whose knowledge, insight, erudition and passion have contributed so much to the success of this project.
Onto the matter in hand… and wow, I thought everyone adored “Brass In Pocket”, but evidently not! Just me, then? Crikey.
Far more than “Another Brick In The Wall”, this single soundtracked my transition from the 1970s to the 1980s – and indeed my transition from an old life to a new one.
In the previous twelve months, I had come a long way. Back in December 1978, I had been the very archetype of a mixed-up sixteen-year old: immature, unworldly, self-absorbed to an unhealthy degree, paralysed by self-consciousness, almost entirely friendless and deeply, deeply unhappy. By the end of 1979, my re-invention as a socially functional member of the wider human race was almost complete.
Having failed to get into Cambridge, I now had an offer from Nottingham University to study law, commencing in the autumn of 1980. This begged the question of what to do with the rest of the year. Staying in the destructive war zone of the family home was so terrifying an option that it gave me the courage I needed to break free.
During December 1979, I attended a number of interviews with major London department stores in London, leading me to accept an offer from Hamleys toy shop on Regent Street. A couple of days after the new year, and a few weeks short of my 18th birthday, I left home for good – never to return for more than three or four days at a stretch, and less if I could help it. I moved in with my wonderful aunt and uncle on the Essex end of the Central Line, and entered the real world of paid employment – freed from the hot-house, ivory-tower confines of boarding school life.
During those first few weeks, the sassy, cocky, street-strutting, self-embiggening, the-world-is-my-shiny-new-oyster assertiveness of “Brass In Pocket” matched the mood of my new life to perfection. But above all else, it reminds me of Carnaby Street, tucked around the back of the Hamleys building.
In the late 1960s, my six/seven-year old self had mythologised Carnaby Street as the centre of all that was shiny and new, colourful and exciting, creative and free. And now, a good twelve years late to the party, here I was: surveying with some dismay the tacky arcade that it had become, but still basically thrilled to be there. Besides, with the mod revival kicking off in earnest, the area was experiencing a slight reversal in its decline: if you wanted parkas, pork-pie hats, “Jam shoes” or other assorted retro-modern black-and-white op-art clobber, then this was where you might have come. And so of course, the equally retro-modern stylings of “Brass In Pocket” chimed in well with all of this.
All of a sudden, I was no longer experiencing pop culture from a cloistered distance. Instead, I was thrust into the middle of it. The Marquee, Dingwalls, Nashville, Hope and Anchor, Rainbow, Rock Garden, the Electric Ballroom in Camden, the Lyceum off the Strand: all of these mythical names from the back of the NME had now become tangible destinations. I started attending as many gigs as I could – even if once again my timing was slightly off, the post-punk grassroots boom already starting to dissipate.
“Brass In Pocket” therefore stands as my threshold record, and I adore it without reservation. It’s another 10 from me.
Seven year old Billy was very much impressed by the Pretenders two tone black and white colourscheme and general hipster image but found the song to be unmemorable music for grown-ups.
Adult Billy will post his thoughts tomorrow – My incoherant Pink Floyd thoughts of last week have told me not to attempt this immediately after a full days teaching.
Yes, I think it’s the guitar hooks that make this. They were often ringing in my ear when I rode the 7:36 Hull to Leeds every morning, one of those 1950s diesel units that were chronically overheated. A curious sort of title, really, too. “Brass in t’pocket” was what going to Leeds every day was all about.
There’s something very 60s about it. Not the best of the 60s maybe, but definitely something that connected with the pop of my own teenage years. The eighties kicked off almost as if thye seventies had never happened. I’ll have more to say anon.
Re 11, I recall seeing a documentary on the BBC (I think) around 1980 which focused on corruption and dodgy practices in chart compiling – record company buying teams knowing about the chart return shops and buying up records or offering bribes to the assistants to mark down that more copies had been sold than the reality etc etc.
Anyway, two of the singles they alleged had benefitted from manipulation/rigging were “Cars” and “Brass in Pocket”. I like(d) both, so was disappointed by these accusations.
I don’t remember what, if any, was the response by the relevent labels/acts to this accusation, but the Pretenders’ record in particular did exhibit “unusual” chart behaviour, especially when you look at the chart performance of the previous two singles.
Incidentally, I am really surprised at the lukewarm response “Brass In Pocket” is getting here. I thought it was a big step up from Sobbing and Kid.
“Cars” on the other hand looked a surefire bet for Number 1 at the time.
Rosie #19 – Songfacts also says the title came from a remark made by one of the support band at the Pretenders’ first UK gig. They must have been from Yorkshire!
Mike #17 – that’s a fantastic evocative post.
Blimey, I’m puzzled by all the “pfft bothered” reactions here to ‘BiP’. (EDIT: I see the balance has started to be restored since I started typing this)
I’d assumed it was a generally well liked song. And I think it’s full of hooks, even if they are understated ones.
Hynde came up with a good adjective at the time for the Pretenders’ performance here and on “Private Life” (the other essay in understatement on their debut LP): immaculate. That word’s always stayed with me, and I think it’s spot on. But I can see why it might come across as calculating too.
By contrast, there are plenty of rough-edged ‘rock out’ moments on said LP too. As Conrad notes, Honeyman-Scott was an amazing guitarist and it’s a shame the drukqs took him from us so soon. Pretenders is my #1 air guitar record and IMHO a contender for best debut LP ever.
As K-Tel entered their twilight years, they sandwiched Brass In Pocket between Kool And The Gang’s Ladies Night and Lowrell’s Mellow Mellow Right On, on the Video Stars comp. So I mentally segue this with Lowrell’s saucy post-Philly lope that Massive Attack sampled a decade later.
Re #20 – I well remember that mysterious leap up the charts, which I observed with no small measure of suspicion. (There was a lot of that sort of thing about, and my Hype Detector was well honed.) After all, “Stop Your Sobbing” and “Kid” had both stalled in the mid-30s, and I had no reason to suppose that “BIP” would perform any better.
Still, at least the hype was justified in the long run!
Yes, BIP seems to have caused some concern for the BPI
Sorry…