THE HUMAN LEAGUE – “Don’t You Want Me”
It’s almost a shame that after three years making records concerning sericulture, medieval time-slips, singles-as-singularities, assassinations, Judge Dredd, Dr Who and whatever the hell “Crow And A Baby” was about, the Human League get to #1 with a straightforward song of embittered romance. They maybe felt the same: “Don’t You Want Me” was the fourth single off Dare, released at the insistence of the label. Who of course were quite right.
Their cosmic imagination was only part of what made the League’s records good, though. They made their synthesisers slam together in an awkward but still addictive dance, and they had Phil Oakey’s marvellously rigid voice. Which you might not have thought was suitable for a song as directly emotional as “Don’t You Want Me”, but no – its limited range and perpetual tetchiness are ideal for a record about a man who simply won’t or can’t acknowledge the reality of the situation. Nobody else could have made the chorus sound quite so honestly uncomprehending.
For all that the guy in “Don’t You Want Me” is obviously a bit of a shit – “and I can put you back down too” – there’s something so hangdog about Oakey’s delivery that you feel sorry for him, like you might feel sorry for Alan Partridge or David Brent. Susanne Sulley’s polite and pitying dismantling of his perspective – blankness masking obvious irritation – leaves you in no doubt whatsoever that this is indeed a full stop.
As with “Tainted Love”, this is not a record I expect to stop meeting any time soon. I don’t think it’s as good as “Love Action” or “Sound Of The Crowd” – to be honest by now I’d even prefer to hear “The Lebanon” if I’m out of an evening. But it’s also easy to hear why it did so well: even beyond the all-too-yellable chorus, its clear-sighted outline of a whole romantic history makes it one of the most complete number ones.
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Tom in FT / Popular • Pop • 2,364 views • Share/Save
re that shropshire temperature — it was recorded at cosford raf station, which is about five miles from newport, and was colder that day than at the SOUTH POLE at that same moment! my mum — a surprisingly patriotic shropshire lass given she was born in newcastle — was always especially delighted by this fact
Was 1981 a white Christmas?
It was indeed, Conrad. At least in Cambridge. The only white one I can recall in England in all my 54 years.
Quite a few Christmases in the Popular years ahead I spent in upstate New York, where white Christmases are the rule not the exception, and that of course is what the song is all about.
Yes, it’s the only one I remember too. I was 8. It snowed, we sledged down the hill near my Gran’s house, I got a load of Dr Who stuff for Christmas, Dad got a ZX81, this was the No.1…. frankly, best Christmas ever :)
““Don’t You Want Me” was the fourth single off Dare, released at the insistence of the label.”
I was thinking about this last night – I bought “Dare” the weekend it came out. That was very rare for the small me: my brother and I had worked out that you didn’t have to wait very long for the sales to get twice as many records for your money. Nevertheless I simply had to have “Dare” that week.
I’d adored the singles (a pocket money friendly £1.15 each for the 12″s of TSOTC and LA/HT if you bought ‘em fresh) but I remember being amazed that the obvious stand-out pop hit hadn’t been a single up to that point. We decided they were obviously waiting to make a bid for the “coveted” Xmas #1 spot, and then when that happened, we decided we had obviously been correct.
(Where “they” = some unknowable mixture of band and label, I guess.)
Ah thank you. I’m not sure if it ever snowed in Southsea, but we must have had a drift or two that Christmas.
I went to vist my Uncle and Aunt in rural Wiltshire (near Devizes) just after Christmas and stayed into the New Year, and the fields around the cottage were knee deep in snow. It made for a truly spectacular midnight walk, as the moon lit up the snow and it was so bright you could see exactly where you were going. The sound was muffled by the snow so it was eerily quiet – it was like being in a fairytale.
Yes, a wonderful Christmas – although I was still reeling from the double blow of Avon shooting Blake and Julia rejecting Charles the week before…
i *think* this was the winter the whole family went skating on the frozen severn flood-plain out by shrewsbury’s berwick road — we were the only people skating and the area of ice was VAST — it was pond-style skating, in that the edges of the ice (except at the river end, which we avoided) got thin and crackly and had tufts of grass and seft poking through, but the “pond” was several fields-worth in size
now the flood-plain is all built-up with housing that floods every other year (another thing which sparked my mum’s glee: she was cross they spoiled the flood-plain and felt anyone who bought a house on it DESERVED to be flooded for being so silly)
seft is a country word for sedge er er
Andy #46: True, but I couldn’t think of another term for the working class version. Loadsamoneys?
Rosie #50: I think when it comes to lager they all taste pretty much the same so image and marketing play a huge role. Through the 80s there was at different times a vogue for Sol (Mexican, and you could stick a lime in it), Budweiser (American, you could pretend you were James Dean), Sapporo (Japanese, had a cool steel can) and Grolsch (had a weird bottle)
haha lee re lagers all taste the same — er no, no they don’t* (unlike beer which all tastes the same viz HORRIBLE)
*might not have been true in the 80s when i was rigorously teetotal and despised all alcohol as the TOOL OF COUNTER-REVOLUTION — this was a bit embarrassing at the wire, which was a niche-advertising haven for aspirational booze of many weird kinds**, owing to a faintly bizarre perspective marketing had on jazz back then
**luckily this empire of signs fell in 1987, along with the market crash, which as a result nearly wiped the mag out also
Shows how one-track I am: I can’t understand anyone not rating this one of the best pop singles… ever! Its ubiquity at the time (and, in some sense, since) cemented it in my head as a template for chart excellence, but I loved it for itself too. Love how Susanne’s voice cracks on “better place” – THAT says real emotion to me even if she sounds detached otherwise. I think detachment is her default style; then again, the voice cracking could just be lack of real facility.
I can play this on the piano, of course. I suspect we all can.
Re #61: Was it that particular late 80s advertisment where the old black saxophonist bonds with the young white one over a bottle of lager which inspired you to renounce teetotalism to attain absolute jazz credibility, then?
I find being drunk helps when listening to Free Jazz.
i doubt i ever achieved even compromised jazz credibility!
It’s difficult for me to make an objective assessment of “Don’t You Want Me”, as my connection with it is primarily a social one. Multiple copies of Dare were floating about our shared student house, and as such it soon eclipsed Heaven 17’s Penthouse And Pavement as Most Played Album. Several friends adopted “Don’t You Want Me” as their official Favourite Song, and it became inescapable at student parties, university discos and club nights in town. Oh, and everybody did a special little hand movement to the “working as a waitress in a cocktail bar” bit: raising an oustretched palm horizontally above the corresponding shoulder, as if to support a tray of drinks. (I still feel a slight involuntary twitch, even now.)
As I’ve said before, this era was my generation’s coming of age: chart pop was being made by people like us, and people like us were its primary audience. It’s curious that we’re almost halfway through the Popular story, and also at a point where my personal and social relationship with pop is peaking. I’ve always loved pop music, but mostly as an observer; perhaps this marks the point where I most felt like a participant.
(Actually, hold that thought: there’ll be another distinct and separate period to come, where I’ll feel equally connected.)
Anyhow, it’s a subjective 10 from me, over-played or not.
As for S.Sulley’s vocals, don’t read too much into their “cracked” quality – I recall reading that it took multiple takes to get her part down, and that the final version was stitched together from the best bits of these.
Thanks v much Erithian at #49 for the research. No-one believes me these days.
I vividly remember the -24 reading on the Guardroom thermometer in nearby Hereford. (Not a night for being a gate guard!)
I always thought that my memory was playing tricks on me as the years have flown by. Even Chris Bonington was struggling!!
Re #66: ‘Dare’ is, of course, the album (briefly) played at the student party in the 1982 first series of ‘The Young Ones’;
RIK (putting ‘Dare’ on turntable): Let’s have some music! Who here likes The Human League?!
(The first second of ‘The Things That Dreams Are Made Of’ plays. Instantly a squad of policemen break into the room and smash up the album and the record player with their truncheons.)
POLICEMAN: Stop the noise! There’s been a complaint!
‘Dare’ was also the album that Lester Bangs was playing on the day that he died.
re 36-38 I was pleased that the HL played ‘Louise’ (in the ballad spot, replacing ‘Human’) on the recent Sheffield Steel City tour and disgusted to discover just now that the only version of it I have is the recent Tony Christie version (that said, Tony’s cover is probably why they started playing it again). Listening to it now on Spotify, I see it works perfectly as a sequel to DYWM.
I remember the first time I heard DYWM, playing on Radio One one afternoon in the hospital house I shared with the girlfriend I was about to leave. Still poignant for me and the cracked singing is what gives the songs that extra element of punctum, making it transcend the HL’s other singles to reach a wider audience and ensuring them their place at the top of the bill 25 years on.
For “Louise” to be a direct sequel to DYWM we’d need a lot of backstory-imagining, mostly why these successful people (in DYWM success has been so easy for her, and he presumably has some foundation for thinking he’s had some hand in her success – she doesn’t directly contradict that) are hanging around bus stops looking a little rough.
Maybe the bus is doubling as a dressing room / trailer on a film set?
She doesn’t have to be famous, necessarily, to be successful.
Maybe he helped her set up a PR business or something?
How about “Life on your own” as part three of the trilogy?
(It was a single before Louise, but comes after it on Hysteria)
“Re #66: ‘Dare’ is, of course, the album (briefly) played at the student party in the 1982 first series of ‘The Young Ones’;”
I seem to recall Alexei Sayle breaking into a few bars of “Don’t You Want Me” during one of his solo spots in a Young Ones episode.
The League were also immortalised in 2000AD as the name of an anti-robot movement in the “Sam Slade, Robo Slayer” strip.
Re #68: ‘The Things That Dreams Are Made Of’, surely the track off Dare that should have been a single, but wasn’t.
And to go off on a Human League-related tangent, it was this sort of electronic pop, and the League in particular, which provided the inspiration/basis for those fantastic Richard X bootlegs at the turn of the century.
some great quotes from Phil Oakey in Simon Reynolds’ new book ‘Totally Wired’ such as:
“If you want to make a lot of money out of pop, be number 3 a lot. Like New Order did. Or The Cure. Because when you’re number 1 you’re everybody’s; nobody really cares about you any more. Everyone and their grandma knows about you, so nobody wants to wear your badges any more.”
There’s even an explanation of Crow and Baby if you’re curious.
Martin Rushent is interviewed as well and gives a good account of the making of Dare and Love and Dancing.
Phil’s great. I always liked “I never thought I’d be in a group. I thought people in groups were stupid.” And pretending to Smash Hits that he collected models of Tom from Tom & Jerry: “I now have 245″ or some such…
Phil also has a deceptive vocal range – I did this at karaoke for about the third time in a row on Friday and WHEN WILL I LEARN MY LESSON.
I’d like to see Phil and the biscuit tin…
The main riff – it’s a steal from “Eagle” by Abba, isn’t it?
I’ve always wondered why no one seems to mention this. Perhaps it’s just so blatantly obvious that no one’s ever thought it worth mentioning.
NMEWatch: 28th November 1981, Julie Burchill;
“Samson Oakey – who resembles Phil McNeill at the height of punk – needs to have a haircut and the stuffing knocked out of him. But it takes two to do it (duet) wrong. This could be a swinging little song if given to two black singers with GREAT VOICES. Phil and moll sound sallow and callow. So many people should be silent songwriters. You could be in folklore instead of on Top of the Pops. Look at Phil Spector. No, don’t look at him like that!
The Human League must stop using the singles chart as an agony column sometimes. And my scout tells me that there are no cocktail bars in Sheffield. And they’re too sensitive. They could learn a lot”
Burchill awarded no single of the week. Also reviewed that week;
Rip Rig & Panic – Bob Hope Takes Risks
Barry Manilow – The Old Songs
Elvis Costello & The Attractions – Sweet Dreams
Kiki & Elton – Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever
Fogwell Flax & The Freehold Junior School – One-Nine For Santa
Gary Numan – Love Needs No Disguise
Madness – It Must Be Love
Vic Goddard – Stamp Of A Lamp
Channel 4 Top 100 Watch – this is the 25th best-selling single of all time in the UK.
#80, I’d like to hear some Vic Godard some time. Is he any good? Been reading about him in “Rip It Up and Start Again” whic I have finally got round to buying.
NB – It’s “Stamp of a Vamp” isn’t it? Although “Lamp” is arguably better…
Life Imitates Art-Watch:
DYWM has now become the unofficial theme-tune to the split of Ronnie Wood (65) and Ekaterina Ivanova (21).