BAND AID – “Do They Know It’s Christmas”
“Do They Know It’s Christmas” is significant in one way, and insignificant in another. First, it raised a lot of awareness and money and established the pop single as an excellent mechanism for doing those things. This was significant. Gargantuan “supergroups” like this fell out of favour but charity records will be a constant from here on.
This isn’t an unalloyed good, and not just because most of the records are atrocious: private charity can generally do very little about the root and structural causes of bad situations, and Band Aid’s chosen name is a dark pun. Band Aid – and subsequently Live Aid – provided a readymade narrative of success: a way to give the famine story a happy ending. The Ethiopian famine set the tone for media coverage of Africa as a failed continent: a basket case constantly requiring the help of Western governments and citizens.
But it would be absurd to have expected Geldof and Ure to be able to change this, and wrong to have preferred that they did nothing. They did their best, it was a very good best, and there are individuals alive now who would not be if it wasn’t for this single, which isn’t something I can say with confidence of “Mouldy Old Dough”. However, feeding the world is well outside what I’d generally expect pop to do – so this whole introductory hand-wring is a way of saying that I’ll be listening to charity records as records, not as charities.
And as a record, “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” has stuck it out better than I thought it would, mostly because it’s become a record about Christmas, not a record about tragedy. As a record about tragedy it’s notoriously heavy handed, but heavy-handedness is exactly what Christmas hits thrive on. It starts with a lift from Joy Division’s “Atmosphere” and then gets jauntier and jauntier until by the end it’s positively festive. Because I’m lucky enough to enjoy Christmas, and because this record came out when I was small and enjoyed it even more, the main feeling I get from “Do They Know It’s Christmas” is one of immense well-being and the sense that all is right in the world.
The cognitive dissonance works because it’s what the song’s very clearly about: “Here’s to you – raise a glass to everyone! Here’s to them – UNDERNEATH THE BURNING SUN!” (a line that always makes me imagine the song as a comic strip). So the more “Christmas” turns into a drunken singalong, the more we giggle at the scratched-up, awkward greetings on the 12″, the more we bellow out That Line, the guiltier we then feel, and the more we give. Well, that’s the theory. Since the recording session turned into a massive party when Francis Rossi got his bag of coke out, it’s fair to say that the song’s immense capability for inappropriate bonhomie has been coded in from the start.
The main contemporary criticism of Band Aid – voiced by Chumbawamba, but also by every playground cynic – is that the stars involved were doing it for the sake of their careers. This is surely completely true, but that’s how celebrity charity operates. It’s also worth pointing out that from this perspective the Band Aid single didn’t actually work: it’s not just Marilyn whose career headed dumperwards. This is where “Do They Know It’s Christmas” is insignificant: it felt and looked like the sealing of pop’s new establishment, when in fact it was their peak. The bands split, faded, took ill-advised sabbaticals, leaving U2 and George Michael the great survivors. Within only a couple of years the British pop landscape would look very different.
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Tom in FT / Popular • featured content/Pop • 3,737 views • Share/Save
I think this went to #13 in the US, and it was a huge deal to MTV in America. Far from the end-of-rivalry-we’re-all-friends some commenters are mentioning, my memory of the making-of video is how bitchy the stars all seemed to each other. Maybe that was just Boy George.
I don’t know where these other American commenters who claim to have never heard this reside, I still hear it every Christmas in grocery stores and the like. I went to an emo label showcase last December which ended with all the bands onstage playing this, and everyone in the audience singing along.
I thought the first few bars recycled (+Bells) the opening of Ure’s cover of ‘No regrets’ (not ‘Vienna’ let alone Joy Div.)… moreover it’s fairly easy to bust out into ‘Do they know…’ at any point though No regrets, e.g., ‘No turning back, do they know it’s la la la…’
Like the end bit (like everyone else)…Appreciate the hortatory ‘Feed the world’ and much prefer it to the self-regarding ‘We are the…’ note of…argh narf bunnies. It was the climax of the year’s didacticism (Relax, Choose life, Hide yourself, Stop making sense, Tag that body for identification purposes…), and it was all a bit much, but in something like xmas tradition, the end bit saves it.
7 for the sing along. 3 for everything before that except 10 for Geldof getting Bono to do the wicked global reductio of how many religious folk actually do think: ‘Thank you god for not killing us with that tornado and instead using it to kill all of our neighbors.’ (Watch CNN during tornado season and you get versions of this every day from multiple hayseeds!)
Yeah, seriously, I hear this song every year in the winter months, and I’m certainly an American. The song I don’t hear very often is “We Are the World.” (Thank God.)
#28. My version of the Oakey reasoning comes from an NME interview (I think) around the time of ‘Human’ a couple of years after the event, so I can see how he might have changed the story by then.
December 1984 is also the time of the transmission of the sacred text of inter-band pop star tribal rivalry, of course – the Spandau Ballet vs Duran Duran Pop Quiz Xmas Special!
TOTPWatch: Band Aid performed ‘Do They Know Its Christmas once on Top of the Pops.
25 December 1984. Also in the studio were; Frankie Goes To Hollywood (performing all three of their hits), Howard Jones, Duran Duran, Nik Kershaw, Culture Club, Thompson Twins, Jim Diamond and Paul Young. “The Appearing Artists” were the hosts. IIRC this all-star spectacular was broadcast live, with Wham! due to appear but held up in traffic, and it was, alongside ‘Doctor Who – The Caves of Androzani’ that March, just about the most exciting thing that I’d ever seen on television.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trRnZoBssa0
Note not just the notorious substitution of Weller for Bono, but the inclusion of Black Lace amongst this line up of the greatest British pop luminaries of the day…
Tonya: this did go to #13 in the States, and like you I hear it every year on any station that plays Christmas music. At the time of its release this got as much video play as airplay in the U.S. As a Christmas chestnut maybe it’s not “White Christmas”, but there’s no doubt that it feels like a Christmas song. I’ll give it an 8 for Christmas nostalgia, and will say that the lyrics aren’t any worse than the ones on “We Are The World”.
#39 – actually I’ve already appeared on a recording of this song, that GK did as part of Kooba Radio’s Broadband Aid in someone’s house in Catford a couple of years ago. Lord knows what happened to that. Anyone who has heard me sing at karaoke can guess what sort of vocal performance I put in.
As for Band Aid itself, I’ll have to wait till the next time round to comment – I was just too young to remember the original and my memories are all mixed up as to who was in what version etc.
Re 38: Frank, the link to the Tosches piece isn’t working, at least for me.
I’ve got to say that I’ve always enjoyed multi-artist videos, the simple pleasures of the “look it’s so and so” aspect, and this was a significant chunk of the Smash Hits stickers album come to life, although sadly Band Aid, unlike the Smash Hits stickers album, did not include The Fall.
Rosie, thanks for the memories. Hope you, like me, will pop back every so often too. I have been recovering my steps back in 1970 and when I finally reach the point I originally came in (Spring 1972), I hope to find time to fill some spaces back in the sixties too. Meanwhile “Peter Goodlaws” (ang: “Waldo’s Protege”, as if you didn’t know) is also shoving off at this time. Like Rosie I shall soon be faced with records I have no remembrance of. Looking down the list, there are one or two in 1987 which are simply references in a book to me and nothing else. The “Curse of Baby Jump” gets us all in the end.
Marcello – Very pleased that you are back. You fled the scene just as Waldo was saying goodbye in a less dramatic fashion. I hope that you will do your own “Time’s Arrow” and double back now. You are a mighty wordsmith, my friend. Sorry about “Marshmallow Hamilton”.
Interesting that Conrad at # 19 responded to Rosie’s (Enithmarmon’s) departure by paying tribute to Erithian! I know both these folk personally now and I suspect that our Kentish Manc friend will be wetting himself.
Hope to turn up at one of the Popular nights out sometime.
Indeed – I am Rosie from Barrow and not Ian from Erith (actually I believed for a long time that Erithian was Ian from Erith but I understand that is not ion fact the case. Humble apologies, Erithian!)
I still have some tidying up to do in Popular as I go over the old ground where my comments were lost in the great Haloscan bubble, so I’ll be mooching around the stacks for a while yet. Meanwhile, look out for a great new FreakyTrigger occasional series, coming soon from a long cul-de-sac a considerable distance from you. And one day I hope to join Populistas in the pub way down in the grimy South ;)
Oh, by the way Peter/Waldo, there are things in the bunny’s gander-bag that are very familiar to me, but that I never knew were number one singles!
Tom – are going to give ‘Last Christmas’ a special-case review? I think it deserves it!
re 59/60 er, well spotted. It was Friday afternoon…apologies to both!
Ah, Rosie, I guess you won’t be retiring to spend more time writing the Erith & Belvedere FC programme notes. I look forward to reading more of your thoughts on the early, sparsely commented entries.
Marcello, I’m hoping you might be giving us your thoughts on Xmas ’79-’84 entries too. Very pleased to see you back. Great “first” comment.
For the record, pouting stick-in-the-mud that I am, this is my most disliked record in all pop (Earth Wind & Fire’s Got To Get You Into My Life coming in second) and I’m quite surprised that I’m in a minority of one.
Re 29: Good call, Steve! Without wanting to bait the bunny too hard, I’d forgotten all about the third version. I was thinking of the second. Clue: it’s not Rolf Harris.
#29 and #63 – the one Steve was thinking of is surely the only time the BA project has “picked a winner” in terms of future pop success! (Unless U2 count…)
#61 Izzy – nope, the highest-selling #2 is still a #2! It’s my favourite Wham! single, and my favourite post-glam Xmas single, so it’s a shame.
Here’s the Tosches link, and if that doesn’t work, here it is sans html:
http://books.google.com/books?id=WrgC6N_oS6IC&pg=PA20&dq#v=onepage&q=&f=false
Such a lot of waterfront to cover!
First of all, many thanks to Conrad and Wichita for their tributes when they thought I was the one that was resigning from Popular. It’s bit like reading your own obituary! As you’ll have realised, “Enitharmon” (a character in the mythology of William Blake, Wiki tells me) was the alias lately adopted by our good friend Rosie. While “Erithian” (a term used by the chronicler of 19th-century sport in Erith, “Tumbler” Bell) is the alias of, not Ian, but Brian from Barnehurst – whose claims to fame now include being an alumnus of the same Manchester school those lads were planning to blow up last spring in homage to Columbine!
Secondly, my own tribute to Rosie – you’ve signalled your departure for some time, and this particular entry, one of the most significant marker points in pop history for all sorts of reasons, is a suitable time to bow out if you’re going to. As others have said, you’re always welcome to make a return visit to fill in bits of your journey from Bank back to Barrow.
Thirdly, a very hearty welcome back to Marcello, and the fervent hope that he’ll find time to revisit the glorious half-decade of pop we’ve been discussing since the bust-up he refers to. Not wishing to revisit old debates, but some of your postings at the time did indicate a degree of stress, and it’s good to see you back mate. The project may have been thriving in your absence, but your superb contributions always take it to another level (no reference to chronic boy band intended).
And finally – in the words of Oyvind Vinstra, on with the music. (If you spot that reference to Radio Active, you’re as sad as me!)
It strikes me that the first Band Aid got an easier ride from the cynics than the one twenty years on. One or two people asked the question about why they should know it’s Christmas if they’re not Christian (I’ll come to that in a moment) but generally everyone was carried along with the heroic efforts of its instigators, and the boos were reserved for the Government when it was seen to be dragging its feet about waiving tax on the record sales. By the time of Live Aid the Guardian published a monumentally sour piece by Terry Coleman, who asked why the whole thing couldn’t be tucked away in a highlights package on late night BBC2 (and that it was OK to have it on Radio 1 because “they would only have been playing rubbish anyway”) which earned him a letter to the paper nominating him for the Curmudgeon of the Year award.
It’s easy to attack Geldof and Ure and indeed any of the artists involved for boosting their careers on the back of this, but how better to use their talents to serve a cause? In a different context, when the Israeli Eurovision entry this year was a Muslim/Jewish duo singing a plea for harmony, I thought: you’re not going to solve the Middle East situation with a pop song, but if writing and performing pop songs is what you do, then it’s an honourable thing to try to do so. Same here: as Mother Teresa of all people said to Geldof, “You can’t do what I do, I can’t do what you do, but it’s important that we both do it.”
(LondonLee #32 – I think the story goes that Geldof called Paula Yates, who was presenting The Tube in Newcastle; Ultravox were guesting that week, so Midge was able to discuss it; then he called Sting who was a friend from new wave days, and within 24 hours Duran and Spandau were on board, and the rest fell into place from there.)
There have been mixed comments about the record itself, but I would maintain that considering its genesis it’s a phenomenally good record. There was a cracking bit of radio a few years later in which Bob acknowledged that it was entirely Midge’s record, and Midge revisited the master tapes to deconstruct the song: confirming, as MikeMCSG says at 22, that the doom-laden intro was sampled with permission from Tears For Fears, then playing the individual sounds (the didgeridoo-like undertone, the bells, the drum track) that created the atmosphere. The finished work has bags of pace and momentum, held together by a fine Phil Collins contribution. It’s such an easy thing to get wrong, as (with a fine disregard for Spoiler Bunny) the 2004 version did in spades: the whiney minor chords, the characterless voices, the momentum-killing halt in the middle and the overlong wigout at the end (I’ll give a free pass to the rap bit, which I thought actually worked.)
As for the lyrics, again people have criticised it (more so in 2004 than in 1984 I noticed) for triteness and a broad-brush approach to Africa (“there’s snow on Kilimanjaro, ner-ner-ner!”) But it’s a pop song FFS, and not a treatise on African geopolitics. Its job is to draw people’s attention to that world outside their window and to highlight the contrast between our Christmas and what’s happening a few hours’ flying time away. Which is why it’s virtually irrelevant whether they’re Christian or not – the message is to us, it’s inviting us to have the same reaction Geldof did looking into Peaches’ bedroom after seeing the Michael Buerk report. As others upthread have said, it did actually contribute to saving lives, and maybe it goes beyond record sales and cash raised: I wonder how many of those doing valuable work in international development now were first made aware of the issues by Bob and Midge’s efforts?
And, again as others have said, this was a full stop to an era. In terms of chart success, Duran, Spandau, Culture Club and Sting had peaked, and the Rats were barely a going concern anyway. George Michael was at the commercial peak of his “first” career and Bono was the up-and-coming star who would be confirmed by Live Aid. Just as we said in the “Merry Xmas Everybody” thread, pop royalty seemed stable but was in flux as always, and here ends this particular Golden Age – with a record that would still be the biggest selling single ever in the UK if the paparazzi hadn’t set off in pursuit of that car in Paris.
swanstep #52 that’s a great point. i’d always just thought about The Line from my godless point of view, that ‘thank god’ just means ‘thank yr lucky stars’ and from that perspective it’s great as a confrontation to the listener – “it could be YOU, you know” – sort of like the “..he hands you a bone” bit of ‘ballad of a thin man’. but if you actually believe in god, as bono certainly does (i dunno about bob g), then, as you say, The Line is actually just plain badness.
also, sorry to see rosie go, glad to see marcello back, suitably baffled by waldo’s “luke, i am your father” revelations and most of all sorry we won’t get to talk about ‘everything she wants’, which i sometimes think is the best single of the 80’s.
Erithian #67 – thanks for reassuring me (indirectly) that I wasn’t totally out on a limb in rating this so highly. I considered backing off to 9 or 8 because 10 seemed so over-the-top for a less-than-perfect song, but this is such a landmark single that giving it less would have felt like saying that Everest is only two miles high. Criticisms of Geldof for careerist opportunism always seem to me to assume remarkable prescience, because how could he have known that it was going to be that big? And if this was to bolster his career, which career are we talking about? His post-Rats musical career sure hasn’t been the envy of millions.
Your point about the song inspiring who knows how many people working in international development is an important one, too. NASA is full of scientists and engineers who grew up reading science fiction, and TV shows and movies set in unusual places often lead to increased tourism, so it’s hardly a stretch to imagine a huge single like this having a conscious or unconscious impact on people’s work and study choices. I don’t know if it affected my own choice to study the politics of developing countries for the best part of a decade, but who knows – the debates that it prompted were recent enough to potentially have been a factor.
Certainly Geldof’s post-Rats musical career was no great shakes, but his media career certainly blossomed thanks to his production company Planet 24, set up with Waheed Alli, which made The Word and The Big Breakfast before selling out to Carlton in 1999 for a figure somewhere between £15m and £30m. He certainly always knew how to network.
One highlight of his musical career you might have seen, Rory – there was a documentary called “Geldof Goes Goondiwindi” showing him and his band playing a Bachelors and Spinsters Ball in the Aussie outback, which was almost literally riotous fun.
Haven’t seen it, but it sounds like it could be good – some of those B&S balls are insane.
I have my doubts about whether the charity aspect of this was a good thing. As I remember it, when the TV news highlighted the famine so well, the immediate pressure was on the government. There was a UN-agreed level of unconditional aid (as opposed to money given to give straight back in contracting) to the third world from first world governments, as a proportion of GDP, and as I recall the UK was giving something like 40% of what it was supposed to. I don’t recall the numbers, but I think I remember hearing at the time, after this and Band Aid, that the charity amount raised that year still fell short of the government’s shortfall, and that was in that one banner year. In the wake of the huge charity success of these things, the pressure on government seemed to fade away hugely.
Obviously I don’t know that these efforts did allow the government to get away with not paying what it had agreed (and I believe many other governments were in similar positions), but it felt like a significant factor in letting them off the hook. This means that I have never found it easy to regard it in the generous spirit that its intentions warrant. And as a record I dislike it, for the lyrical idiocies mentioned, the jarring changes of voice, the horrid sub-Hey-Jude singalong and so on.
Oh dear, there’s almost too much that I want to say at this juncture, and most of it is barely about the actual song under consideration. So firstly, let me echo the “welcome back” to Marcello and the “au revoir” to Rosie – whose contributions I have greatly enjoyed, even though it seems to be our destiny never to agree on anything much! (Strictly in pop musical terms, that is.) But then again, that’s one of the reasons I’ve enjoyed reading Rosie’s opinions – most usually with a wry “here we go again” smile at their indirect opposition to my own.
I’ve somehow been expecting Rosie to bow out with Band Aid, as it does mark one of the most sudden and profound sea changes in pop history. As others have said, “Do They Know It’s Christmas” dealt a fatal blow to New Pop – along with the conclusion of the Frankie Goes To Hollywood trilogy, which took its concepts to their ultimate conclusion. Where, indeed, could we go from here?
To my (probably quite biased) mind, this represented the closing of a generation gap that had first opened up with punk. For any lingering notions of a culture of new breed/old school opposition within British chart pop were sent packing, as Good Old Phil Collins and Good Old Status Quo were called back in from the cold, to jam along with the (comparatively) cool kids.
And if you were of a weekly-inkie-music-press mindset, then you might have recoiled in horror at the scene, drawing parallels with the closing pages of Animal Farm. Did we fight the punk wars for this? Or as Biba Kopf put it, in his briefly notorious single-sentence dismissal on the NME’s singles review page (paraphrased from memory): “Millions of dead pop stars make rubbish record for the right reasons.”
For what Band Aid brought back, and Live Aid later confirmed, was the notion that Big Equalled Good. It re-introduced the pecking order, and re-affirmed the primacy of the superstar elite. Good old Queen! Good old Tina Turner! And with that re-alignment of public perceptions (and with the caveat that I’m obviously over-generalising to make a point), there was a sudden and marked swing towards a renewed notion of authenticity (“proper” songs, signalling substance over style), and a hurried distancing from artificiality (plastic poseur cocktail crap with stupid haircuts).
In chart pop turns, the effect felt immediate. The charts of the first couple of months of 1985 were widely praised for containing a sudden influx of “quality” material – and indeed, a lot of great singles did chart during that period, before (as I saw it) the rot properly set in.
To begin with, I welcomed this New Authenticity – possibly because it felt like the only logical next step. Playing catch-up during 1984 – and certainly this was influenced by the clubs I was hanging out in – I’d fallen in love with the back catalogues of artists like James Brown and Aretha Franklin, and consequently I had started to prize, and to seek out, new music which espoused overt notions of soulfulness and sincerity, and “classic” song-writing and performance values.
For me, this was a unprecedented step to take, as the notion that had underpinned all of my fiercest musical passions since childhood had been one of messing with the rule book, and of pushing back the boundaries. From the nonsense bubblegum lyrics and novelty songs of my childhood, through the experimentation of prog, the culture shock of punk, the self-consciously conceptual manoeuvres of New Pop and the modernistic thrills of electro-funk and hip hop, I had always valued the breaking of new ground. So perhaps in this context, the New Authenticity also offered the promise of expanding my horizons? In retrospect, I see it as a major misstep – and so I’m looking forward to putting these assumptions to the test, as we step through the pop-cultural desert of the mid-Eighties.
Meanwhile, back in December 1984, we have one of the great chapter-closing Christmas charts – just as we did in 1973, with glam rock’s grand finale. And don’t get me wrong here: rather than aligning myself with the Biba Kopfs of this world, I was thrilled at the way that Band Aid seemed, albeit temporarily, to expand the possibilities of what pop music could do.
Mike @ 73: Let’s just say we have held complementary views on pop during our journey together. However much our pop tastes may vary, I’ve followed your own background story with interest and a certain amount of fellow-feeling and been moved and inspired by it.
To Marcello, as we pass through the revolving door together, I say good to see you back, chuck. We’ve had our ‘interesting’ moments and I haven’t always agreed with you but I have learned a great deal from you and we’ve even found the odd spot of common ground.
I wonder if the phenomenal success of this single temporarily re-introduced some older record-buyers to the singles market. It’s two immediate successors are distinctly Old Pop! As we shall see…
oh, this just occured to me, the reason DTKIC was so thrilling to me as a ten year old comic reader was OMG, TEAM-UP!!!! if duran duran and wham! and all the other people were individually great then SURELY all of them together must be ZAWESOME…
Did you ever read HEROES AGAINST HUNGER Steve?
I’m not sure if it has been mentioned on threads of xmas #1’s previously, but I thought I might mention that 1984 was the year that The Smiths’ “How Soon Is Now” topped John Peel’s Festive Fifty chart.
I only mention it as I feel more inclined to discuss that particular single than DTKIC. Ho hum.
The year-end polls of the time tend to get a mention in the poll posts at the end of each year, if you see what i mean, eg: http://freakytrigger.co.uk/ft/2009/09/popular-84/ for this one (although it was only about this point that the festive 50 became “the last year only” rather than all music ever, isn’t it?)
It was 82 I think – he did an “all time” one which was the then-cemented pop canon, and a “this year” one which had Shipbuilding at the top IIRC (obviously I wasn’t listening at the time, I was more concerned with Doomlord.)
“Is it worth it?/A new winter coat and energiser ring for the wife”
Just popped in to say that a remix of my comment at #73 is in today’s Guardian Film & Music.
The whole of today’s Film and Music is well worth a look for the Popular fan, since there’s also Bob Stanley discussing all the 00s #1s, Jude Rogers on the RATM/X-Factor thing, and comments box reg’lar The Lex reviewing the Electrik Red album. Good times!
And according to the Jude Rogers column, you’ll be taking up a more regular residence in Guardian Film & Music in the New Year, Tom? This is good to hear.
Yup, fortnightly column – I’ll hype it more when it starts, worry not.
Re 54: Oh wow, here it is! (sadly copyright restrictions mean that we can see, but can’t hear, parts 2 & 3);
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=42qMebiJCCE
@ CarsmileSteve # 76: I was a comic fan too, and I had the same mentality when it came to a team-up; ‘Spiderman and Daredevil’? Twice the value and twice the excitement! That was definitely where my head was at when Band Aid came out… every pop star on earth has combined forces to make a Christmas record?!!! MEGA!!!!
I forgive the song all its faults because of how fast it was made. When that is taken into account I just think what they produced was something akin to magical.
I don’t subscribe to the theory that people were trying to boost their careers at all. Nobody knew this would be the biggest single ever, or that it would spawn the Live Aid concert and ‘We Are the World’ or any of that. In fact, people didn’t even know whether it would be a good song. Geldof just tried to rope them in and they either said yes or no. It’s worth pointing out that half the people who walked into that studio were bigger than both Geldof and Ure; Paul Young, Duran, Sting, Phil Collins, Boy George, George Michael – do we really believe any of these people needed (or thought they needed) a career boost? Yes, some of them were reaching a peak that would slide a year or so later, but they didn’t know that. It would be fair to say that the record wouldn’t have been half the hit it was without those big artists, and it would also be fair to say that not one of those artists owes their career or their fame in any way to this record. The record needed them – not the other way round.