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Apr 14

CORNERSHOP – “Brimful Of Asha (Norman Cook Remix)”

Popular83 comments • 9,291 views

#785, 28th February 1998

asha In the mid 90s, if you were looking for alternatives to Britpop’s domination of the media you’d find fertile pickings – so fertile, in fact, that it turned into a whole line of attack. Take Britpop’s nostalgic, ironised relationship with the country’s pop past, and contrast it with trip-hop, or drum’n’bass, and their rapid innovation and pace of change. To make the argument even more enticing, Britpop stars were mostly white, while black and Asian British musicians played huge roles in the scenes held up against them. Nostalgic white past versus thrilling multi-cultural futurism: it was an almost irresistible frame.

But it was also too simplistic. One of the things the analysis left out – because Britpop left it out – was the heritage of immigrant communities within Britain – which ran back well beyond the cultural memory of Swinging London. Nostalgia could be a poison, but it could also lead to splendid, resonant music, so why impose conceptual limits on who gets to make that music? Black and Asian Britons had a 60s and a 70s here too. Fight the past with the future, by all means, but other pasts, and other nostalgias, were available, and could be just as vital. “Brimful Of Asha” proved it.

Cornershop came out of an angry, forgotten moment just before Britpop hit. They were Riot Grrrl fellow travellers with a taste for barbed theatre about ‘Britishness’ and the perceptions of where Asians fitted – the name, the “curry-coloured” vinyl, the righteous incineration of Morrissey photos. “Get on the streets and fight! The powers that be” shouted their clattery debut “England’s Dreaming”, whose video showed plenty of Union Jacks – and their scummier wavers.

But the music didn’t catch up to the rhetoric, and I doubt I gave them much of a chance, at least compared to thrilling Wiija labelmates Huggy Bear or the catchier political pop of Chumbawamba. And – as if it needs saying – they seemed as likely to get to Number One as any band in the habit of releasing split singles with Blood Sausage would be. Even less likely, you would say, than a Housemartins bassist becoming the hottest ticket in British dance music.

Some might argue – especially as Norman Cook himself has jokingly conceded it – that Fatboy Slim ruined “Brimful Of Asha”. It’s certainly true that the bits he slices out are some of the song’s most beautiful and important. Gone is the recital of Indian and other touchstones – “Solid State Radio – 45!” and all that – which adds so much texture and emotional weight to “Brimful”. It’s one of the great pop lists, like Kevin Rowland’s furious count-off of Irish writers in “Dance Stance”, or Daft Punk’s tribute to house pioneers on “Teachers”, a personal testament to how culture builds you. Gone also are the gorgeous bloom of strings that ends the song so perfectly.

These are harsh losses, particularly as it’s so easy to imagine Cook fitting them into the single mix – he’d only have to ditch a half dozen “bosoms”. But he keeps a lot of the parts of “Brimful” that matter, and his central idea – speeding it up – is a brilliant one. Cornershop are often a leisurely band – Tjinder Singh is particularly good at setting up friendly, fuzzy, loping grooves to build his ideas around – but sped up, the riff of “Brimful Of Asha” reveals itself as one of the era’s sharpest, a piece of propulsive mod swagger. It’s half-pilfered off “Sweet Jane”, but that had always been part of the point – rock belongs to Cornershop just like any other music they use.

But while it’s mostly a Cornershop record, “Brimful Of Asha” is recognisably a Fatboy Slim track too. Cook had a wonderful streak of remixes and original tracks around this time – this, “The Rockefeller Skank”, “Michael Jackson”, his mix of Wildchild’s “Renegade Master” – almost all of which used the same trick. They’re fast, goofily repetitive, breakbeat-driven dance records, then instead of dropping the beat out for the breakdown, they start cutting it up faster and faster, bringing the track to a delirious head so the drop back into the chorus is a different kind of release. It’s magnificently crass and it works almost every time. On “Brimful” he uses the “bosom for a pillow” line as the repeating core, then works the cut-up trick on “and dancing – and dancing – and dancing” – and it’s a wonderful, surging moment. With that and the amped-up riff, Cook gives back as much as he takes away: this and the original are two brilliant singles, not one spoiled.

What’s more, they’re two brilliant singles with the same emotional centre. “Brimful Of Asha” is one of those occasional number ones about how glorious and liberating music is. “Dancing Queen” is another, so is “Come On Eileen” Unlike those records, “Brimful” was not originally about dancing – it was about music and film not just as communal escape but communal resistance. An unbreakable thread linked the band of 1997 to the band of 1993. “We don’t care about no government warnings, about the promotion of the simple life or the dams they are building”, to quote the record’s most resonant, compact line, one the remix shrewdly keeps. But any song about that can be very easily diverted to dancing, which has a long, intimate relationship with community and resistance.

In either of its versions, “Brimful Of Asha” is wise, exciting pop: in one version slightly more wise, in the other slightly more exciting. It remains an inspiration. I’m writing this in April 2014: two months into what I grimly suspect might be years of Britpop retrospection. England, once again, is looking backwards. But just as then, that’s too simple a diagnosis. There’s no shame in looking backwards, the past is full of treasure – the key is not to hoard it but to use it, to come back out of the past and share what you find. That’s what Cornershop did, building a fragment of their heritage into a part of everyone’s – stepping forward at the dying days of Britpop to show what nostalgia was good for.

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Comments

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  1. 31
    Tommy Mack on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Good calls all round on the Body Moving remix. I’ve just remembered Cornershop played my university summer ball in 2001. I don’t think they did BfOA.

  2. 32
    punctum on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Much, much more than a superior perspective on the relationship between film and music, “Brimful Of Asha” ranks alongside Richman’s “Roadrunner” as one of the greatest odes to the transformative and redemptive power of music and its ability to change the way we walk through our world. It also marks the final triumph of Riot Grrl; the Leicester-Wolverhampton Asian Generation X crossover have become the most durable of the British contingent, and typically were deemed the ones least likely to succeed. But their second album, Woman’s Gotta Have It (1995), was a revelation to those who still believed that Britpop could and should embrace everything; the two-part marathon of “6 AM Jullandar Shere” and “7:20 AM Jullandar Shere” which bookend the record still stands as one of the most remarkable fusions of East and West – drone and punk-informed psychedelia, Shankar meets Stereolab – ever to have emerged from this country. Among those few discerning listeners applauding were Damon Albarn, who never passed up an opportunity to declare Cornershop’s hidden greatness; eventually the word spread and 1997’s When I Was Born For The 6th Time deservedly became a Top 20 album.

    Like “Roadrunner,” “Brimful Of Asha” comes in two versions. The first, as heard on the album and as initially released on 45, is the great, generous and gorgeous slacker anthem which nineties Britain deserved. As with Pavement, Cornershop proved themselves able to fuse sublime pop melodies with a determinedly shambolic but good-natured approach; hey, what’s the hurry? The original “Brimful” doesn’t even feature a bass line, but is a wonderful and slowly enveloping campfire of an ode to everything that inspired Tjinder Singh. In addition, it is decidedly subversive; the “Asha” of the title is Asha Bhosle, the “Queen Of Bollywood,” she who, along with (and in competition with) her cousin Lata Mangeshkar, provided the main singing voice for thousands upon thousands of Bollywood musicals (“Behind those movie screens…Asha Bhosle/She’s the one that keeps the dream alive”). The song celebrates the unapologetic escapism of the Indian cinema, and notes that its escapism can be interpreted as meaning an escape route; those fenced in by arranged marriages were able to look up to the screen and revel for a while in what they believed was true romance, something entirely absent from their own coldly rationalist lives – “Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow.”

    From there, Tjinder remarks on the power of escapist entertainment to subvert the established Indian order: “We don’t care about no government warnings/’Bout their promotion of a simple life/And the dams they are building” – a direct reference to what was perceived as a corrupt Indian hierarchy, allowing their people to endure in genteel poverty while lashing out billions on building contracts for their business friends. Following this, Tjinder creates the link to his own experiences of childhood wonder, moving out from Indian stars like Mangeshkar and Mohammad Rafi (the latter frequently in duet with Asha; listen to their “Gulabi Raat Gulabi” to find yet another hitherto hidden version of 1967) towards Solid State Radio and Ferguson Mono, and on towards Jacques Dutronc and the Bolan Boogie and Trojan Records; leaving an awed pause between each as though Christmas has come afresh with every new citation.

    The arrangement is basic with ramshackle guitar and drums in the forefront plus the addition of tambourine for the choruses and increasing interspersions of ’67 Mellotron and flutes. Finally, when Tjinder conjures up the spectre of the vast Indian studio orchestras – “7,700 piece orchestra” he sighs – a sweet figure for violins makes its entrance and the song rambles towards its unhurried fade.

    But it was Norman Cook, absent from the number one spot for eight years, who helped break them big with his beats. Running eagerly to the front of the Big Beat pack as Fatboy Slim, Cook’s late nineties notion of dance music was the equivalent of a playful puppy who won’t stop licking your hands; like Slade, he brought pure happiness and enjoyment back into a music scene which had largely abandoned both. In his mix, he speeds “Brimful” up, adds an 808 bass and numerous sound effects, and relocates both song and group in a gaudily dazzling fairground of colour and motion. There’s a particularly marvellous moment where, in the “instrumental break,” Cook unleashes a whirlpool of spluttering whole tone runs, notes and whoops. The effect – as demonstrated by the climax of “and singing, and dancing, and dancing, and singing” over demented Magic Roundabout organ – is akin to leading the group through the cinema screen and into the film itself; they become part of the never-ending, multicoloured Bollywood spectacle, up there dancing with Sadi Rami; their dream becomes a luminous reality. And Cornershop have continued, at their extremely patient pace, to surprise and delight open ears; firstly with their hugely underrated album Disco And The Half Way To Discontent, released under their dance music alter ego of Clinton – very avidly reflecting what Cook did for them – and then with 2002’s wonderful and extremely sensual Handcream For A Generation. “Mine’s on the RPM,” Singh concludes on both versions of “Brimful,” and he and Cornershop fully deserved to be on the money.

  3. 33
    Seb Patrick on 29 Apr 2014 #

    I always preferred the original (even though I doubt I’d heard it before hearing the remix), because I was like that; but there’s no denying that the remix is the one that deserved to be an absolutely huge number one hit.

  4. 34
    Andrew Farrell on 29 Apr 2014 #

    I think Mr Hicks at #27 covers most of what I’d have to say – the worst of his great singles but still great. I was at the Dance Tent at Glastonbury this year for his set – one of the first acts back on after someone had reversed the machine clearing out the mud, and sprayed the tent with sewage – and the experience of hearing Rockafella Skank for the first time there and then will keep me cheery on the last day.

    Apart from anything else, he has a great love of sounds and music – I was a little surprised when first I heard the original and found that all of the interesting-sounding things on it are from the remix. The great list even sounds better and snappier in the memory than on the record – but I’m going to be spending more time remembering than listening anyway.

  5. 35
    Tom on 29 Apr 2014 #

    I like pretty much all the FBS singles mentioned but thought “Gangster Tripping” was a real slip-up – jumped over the line dividing glorious from irritating repetition.

  6. 36
    Andy M on 29 Apr 2014 #

    The only #1 to also hit the top of the John Peel Festive 50, I think.

  7. 37
    Tom on 29 Apr 2014 #

    I’m just imagining being asked in 1993: “Which of these bands will get a #1 single? Cornershop, Rage Against The Machine, The Manic Street Preachers, or Suede?” Pop’s a funny old game.

    (Sorry, bunny)

  8. 38
    Mark G on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Ha, but if you change the question to “Which *won’t*”, everyone would point to but one answer.

  9. 39
    James BC on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Oh, I loved Gangsta Trippin’, maybe more than the Rockefeller Skank. Absurdly repetitive vocal sample but lots of playful stuff happening behind it – as I remember explaining to my mum at the time! That was his first great video also, I think. BOOM!

  10. 40
    jim5et on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Ah, now, this was always going to be a 10 for me. Both the moment Cornershop finally became the band they sounded like in interviews (Their set sharing a bill with Mambo Taxi in about 1993 is, I think, the most genuinely unlistenable and shambolic noise I have ever heard live, and I went to multiple Frumpies gigs) and the high point of Fatboy Slim’s world of Brighton eclecticism. By 1998 I was a year or two away from regular clubbing, with a real job that didn’t allow for comedowns, but this was the soundtrack to North Laine for pretty much all of that year.

  11. 41
    hectorthebat on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Sample watch – the Norman Cook remix lifts drums from “Mary Mary” by The Monkees, and “Lesson 3 (History of Hip Hop Mix)” by Double Dee and Steinski.

  12. 42
    Steve Williams on 29 Apr 2014 #

    I’m going to try for the daftest comparison of all here and compare this song to Funky Moped by Jasper Carrott. That’s because Carrott used to say that Radio 1 and all the other radio stations thought Funky Moped was a bloody awful record and had no idea why it made the chart, while Carrott says the reason it was selling so well is because everyone was buying it for the rude Magic Roundabout parody on the B-side. And I wonder if, had your knowledge of the charts been just watching Top of the Pops (on which they performed the original version), you might wonder why this pleasant but not particularly mainstream song had got to number one.

    Liked the original, and bought When I Was Born From The 7th Time and liked that too (I think Tom’s comparison with Super Furry Animals is a good one, and I like Super Furry Animals), but I absolutely loved the remix. I was bonkers about big beat in 1998, I thought it was brilliant. I remember being blown away by hearing SMDU by Brock Landers, a record everyone seems to have forgotten about now but was all over Radio 1. Fatboy Slim was my favourite pop star in 1998, by miles.

    There was a fascinating piece on Cornershop in the short-lived Deluxe magazine which followed them on the promotion trail, there was a bit where they had to record a trail for Chris Tarrant on Capital which appeared to have been a rather fraught process (“That’s great, guys, but could we…?”). They appeared not to like that side of it at all.

    They didn’t perform Sleep On The Left Side on Top of the Pops, but they did perform it on Blue Peter.

  13. 43
    wichitalineman on 29 Apr 2014 #

    NOW! watch: This cropped up on Disc 2 of Now 39, which had some strange timelag issues – Barbie Girl, but no Doctor Jones? A funny old mix of Britpop offcuts, N Cook, nu soul, smirking Robbie (Let Me Entertain You sounds antique alongside BoA) and quite a few novelties, assembled in a slapdash K-Tel fashion, which is always fun. I don’t think I remember the Goldie song at all… (but then I don’t think I remember any of Sash’s hits from looking at the titles, then I hear them, and then I nod, and I go “ahhh, of course” like an old man chewing through a packet of assorted flavour Toffos).

    Robbie Williams : “Let Me Entertain You”
    Catatonia : “Mulder and Scully”
    Cornershop : “Brimful of Asha” (Norman Cook Remix)
    (bunnied for the time being)
    Wildchild : “Renegade Master ’98”
    Bamboo : “Bamboogie”
    Ultra Nate : “Found a Cure”
    Sash! : “La Primavera”
    Aqua : “Barbie Girl”
    Steps : “5,6,7,8”
    Louise : “Let’s Go Round Again”
    Chumbawamba : “Amnesia”
    Camisra : “Let Me Show You”
    DJ Quicksilver : “Planet Love”
    Rest Assured : “Treat Infamy”
    Warren G featuring Sissel : “Prince Igor”
    Lutricia McNeal : “Ain’t That Just the Way”
    Prince Buster : “Whine and Grine”
    The All Seeing I : “Beat Goes On”
    Goldie : “Believe”
    Backstreet Boys : “All I Have to Give”
    Vanilla : “No Way No Way”

  14. 44
    punctum on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Third single off the album time, mostly. The Goldie one probably an offcut from Saturn Returnz. Does anyone remember that album at all, including me, who wrote 10,000 words about it?

  15. 45
    wichitalineman on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Re bosom: the only other hit I can think of that included the word bosom, and a Radio 2 staple, was Don Williams’ I Recall a Gypsy Woman.

    But I prefer the use of the word on The Last Will and Testament of Jake Thackeray – Leeds’ own Jacques Brel, he often referenced bosoms, thighs and bottoms in his lyrics:

    “Lady, if your bosom is heaving don’t waste your bosom on me.
    Let it heave for a man who’s breathing, a man who can feel, a man who can see.”

  16. 46
    wichitalineman on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Re 44: As I was sharing a flat with a big Metalheadz fan, I’m surprised that I never heard Saturnz Return at the time – though I think the idea of an hour long track might have scared me (and him) off. Also d&b seemed to be everywhere – in movies, in ads – which had severely blunted its impact. I can understand, in retrospect, why Norman Cook’s playful breakbeat pop would have felt preferable to an album that seemed to scream “important”.

    Metalheadz to Celebrity Come Dine With Me Christmas Special. What an odd career.

  17. 47
    Tom on 29 Apr 2014 #

    We played “Mother” in the bookshop once, it was…. OK? On the boring side of OK? As you’d expect really.

    I heard that very Now disc about a week ago and even so I too can’t remember the Goldie song. What a rum choice.

  18. 48
    Cumbrian on 29 Apr 2014 #

    “Let Me Entertain You sounds antique alongside BoA” – I’d describe it more as the sound of someone realising that no one had yet successfully ripped off Pinball Wizard before thinking that, actually, it would be better to rip off some musical theatre instead (though I guess Tommy is musical theatre too). I actually think it’s alright! Certainly not something I’d want to buy but I’d rather listen to it than, for instance, Mulder and Scully. Though I agree that it sounds old news in comparison to some of the rest of that disc.

    Is the tale about Vanilla apocryphal or not (i.e. that the record was the result of a bet or some such)?

  19. 49
    Kinitawowi on 29 Apr 2014 #

    #43: La Primavera was undoubtedly one of Sash!’s prettiest songs, if nominally the weakest of the early bunch in that it peaked at number 3, for a change.

    Doctor Jones made Now! 40. But you’re right – I mentioned around Now! 37 that the Now!s went through a phase of losing touch with the accelerating pace of the charts; we’ve still got another bunny to get through, and one more week of a previous one, before we get to put Now! 39 to bed. Three Now!s a year, maintained since 1992, wasn’t going to be enough any more (they missed 2 Become 1 entirely).

    Irrelevant side note: I’m currently hitting up eBay to fill out the last few gaps in my collection. 83 down, 4 to go…

  20. 50
    Mark M on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Re 44 etc: Goldie was on the Feb 98 cover of Select, which had had a relaunch – Britpop and a sense of fun were out, attempted chin-stroking seriousness was in. The tagline had gone from ‘Pop Babylon’ to the pompously vapid ‘Music And Beyond’. I have no idea what they were thinking, other than a panic about being caught stuck as the magazine of a moment that had gone…

  21. 51
    Tommy Mack on 29 Apr 2014 #

    I am appalled that Now 87 is the current Now: triple the last now that I bought (on vynil, rather pretentiously – with ten tracks a side, it sounded fuck awful, though it (Now 29) remains one of the best nows: Shampoo, General Levi, Blur, Oasis, Reel2Real, Corona, 2 Unlimited, Sparks and loads I can’t remember right now.)

    Also just remembered: ant man b used to cover BfoA in rehearsals (rehearsals were all we had in 1998 – more exciting things will develop!) – at that stage, we’d do anything that was easy to play really! (Bflat – F -Eflat if you’re interested…)

  22. 52
    wichitalineman on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Re 49: I might be able to help you there as I have a few spares. Unless you’re after the crazy-price early ones. I’ve got vinyl from 1-10, CDs from 11 onwards (somehow numerically satisfying).

  23. 53
    Kinitawowi on 29 Apr 2014 #

    Yep, it’s mainly the crazy-price early CDs I’m missing. 1 on vinyl and CD (25th anniversary rerelease), 2 on vinyl, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9 and 10 on tape (I think it’s those – I know I’m missing one of the tapes, anyway, but they’re all in a box somewhere right this second), and 12, 13 and 15-87 on CD. (And 20 on vinyl, because I misread the auction.) CD 14 is on its way, and I’ll be after 10 on CD (didn’t realise it was available as a double when I bought the tape at a market in Manchester – 4, 8 and 9 are all single CDs).

    eBay’s crazy-prices aren’t actually that crazy right now. Now! 10 is on a Buy It Now for £24.99 as I type – when I first started the collection you wouldn’t have got much change from triple that. Part of the problem is that you can never really tell just how legit some of those CDs are – doubtless there’s people making a mint out of fake copies.

    The scariest crazy-price CD I still want is James’ One Man Clapping. Somebody’s after £79 for that on vinyl, the loon.

  24. 54
    swanstep on 29 Apr 2014 #

    @wichita, 45. Surely someone must have got a hit in the ’60s with ‘Rock (a) my soul in the bosom of Abraham’. The only trace of one that a quick google search reveals is Peter, Paul, and Mary taking it all the way to #93 in the US, but it seems unlikely that that’s it…

  25. 55
    Garry on 30 Apr 2014 #

    #43 Only two of those tracks are on my car mix (ie usb stick on random) – BofA (but the original version) and Chumbawumba’s Amnesia.

    Let Me Entertain You is one of those tracks I’ve always associated with the gym, hearing it blare out of aerobics classes. We Will Rock You was another. Robbie was common gym fodder at the Millennial turn.

  26. 56
    Rory on 30 Apr 2014 #

    My contribution to “Brimful of Asha” lore is that the extended version of the Norman Cook remix is on the Australian compilation Meaty, Beaty, Big & Bouncy!”, which I enjoyed at the time. In fact it’s the only CD I own with BoA in any form. I was never moved to investigate the parent album, nor anything else by Cornershop, and for the life of me can’t now think why. I later got into Black Star Liner, who were associated with them, but even that didn’t trigger a revisiting of Cornershop. I guess for a Britpop and big beat fan there was so much other good stuff to explore that I never got round to it.

    I wonder if Cook’s influence was part of it. There will be a better chance to talk about Fatbunny Slim, but I was oddly reluctant to get into his stuff at the time; some sort of misguided reaction to its ubiquity. In hindsight, I really should have, because this remix reminds me a lot of Mint Royale, another of my late-’90s favourites; in fact this track is about the best representation on Popular of a lot of music I loved in 1998-2000.

    The original feels a little languid to me after being used to hearing the remix, but I like the roll-call of record labels (preserved on the extended remix). Apart from the speeding up, my favourite feature of the remix is that Cook’s interpolated Bollywood sounds are cut short every time, leaving the listener to fill in the gaps; it’s a neat trick.

    I was going to give this a 7 on the basis that although it’s clearly a superior track it wasn’t part of my core listening then and isn’t now; but I suspect that’s about to change. 8.

  27. 57
    leveret on 30 Apr 2014 #

    The languidity of the original, as well as its minimalism, is where its appeal lies for me. Compared with, say, the last-but-one Oasis entry, which layers blaring guitar upon blaring guitar, the unhurried, unfussy arrangement is really refreshing. Some of the Britpop-era indie(ish) bands and their producers could’ve taken some lessons from BFOA as to how to use string sections as well; sparingly and in a way complementary to the arrangement, rather than layering them on to add boil-in-the-bag gravitas to their latest workmanlike anthemic ballad.

    I do rather like the remix too though, enough to buy it at the time – shockingly, I think this is the only UK number one single I’ve ever bought (other than as part of an album or compilation).

  28. 58
    Mark M on 30 Apr 2014 #

    Re56: Black Star Liner! Blimey! I had completely forgotten them – led by ubiquitous/legendary Leeds music scene character Choque Hosein. They were alright, I now half-remember.

  29. 59
    ciaran on 30 Apr 2014 #

    I expected this to get at least a 7.As I was scrolling down the review I was thinking we might have a 10 on our hands. I would have given an 8 going into this but it’s hard to argue with Tom’s 9.

    I hadn’t heard either in a long time up until this week. Back in 1998 it was always refreshing to hear the original as it was overshadowed by the remix. Now though I enjoy the original less than I did. The intro sounds a bit like ‘You Ain’t seen Nothing Yet’ to my surprise. Still it would worth at least a 6. I was a bigger fan of ‘Sleep on the Left side’.Comparisons to Super Furry Animals have been made but it also has a They Might Be Giants quirky vibe to it.

    It’s strange that Norman Cook picked up on it but like he did with ‘Dub Be Good To Me’ in 1990 but BFOA really comes to life with the remix. Overexposed in late 90s no doubt but now it’s terrific again.

    If I was to choose I would prefer White Town but it’s a similar in a way to the M/A/R/R/S or S’Express debate of the late 80’s. Lots of enjoyment to be had from both.I still find hard to believe that there hasn’t been more Asian fronted pop in the charts (gigantic 2012 bunny aside!).

    Norman Cook really bossed 1998 though. Renegade Master was a great start to the year and as noted ‘The Rockafeller Skank’ was glorious. I loved Freak Power’s ‘No Way’ but that one has been forgotten about. I’d agree with Tom’s opinion on Gangster Trippin-not Cook’s finest hour.

  30. 60
    AMZ1981 on 30 Apr 2014 #

    Has anybody noted above that this kickstarts a trilogy of number ones where (in slightly different ways) the producer is significant?

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