"7"
Magazine - July 21st 1999
Buy this mag or they'll set
the dogs on you!
Since their inception the Pet Shop
Boys have been intertwined with dance
music. They worked with legendary New
York producer Bobby O, their choice
of remixer has been remarkably prescient
(they've got Felix Da Housekatt to twiddle
their new single) and they're headlining
this year's Creamfields. Which is all
cool. But the real reason we love them
is because they're uniquely British
pop stars who wrap themselves up in
daft arty concepts and make beautifully
affecting songs. Tony Marcus enters
their strange and funny world.
The Pet Shop Boys have taken over a
floor of the disused St. Pancras hotel
in Kings Cross to promote their new
single. Although it's difficult to establish
the connection between the disco tinged
(and David Morales co-produced) 'I Don't
Know What You Want But I Can't Give
It Any More' and this near-derelict
Victorian architectural landmark. Also
confusing are the recordings of barking
dogs playing in its empty hallways,
giant video-screen showing the boys'
new promo and room full of illuminated
perspex cubes where Neil and Chris agree
to meet the press. "It's art,"
sighs Tennant, when I ask for an explanation,
"you're part of an installation."
"We're secretly filming you with
infra-red cameras." adds Lowe.
The Pet Shop Boys like to play double-act.
I should have suspected as much. Their
new video is very Vic and Bob - it shows
them getting dressed and made-up into
their new 'look': a fusion of Samurai
and mental patient. And their career,
bona fide popstars since 1986's 'West
End Girls' (and 28 million worldwide
LP sales so far), contains enough artful
moves to warn that I might be about
to meet a multi-platinum Gilbert and
George. There is much that is interesting
about them - their choice of collaborators
(Dusty Springfield, Bruce Weber, Liza
Minnelli, David Bowie, Derek Jarman),
or their politics (they dressed as miners
for a Brit Award performance and played
for the campaign to equalize the age
of homosexual consent). Or even their
music: electronic, dance-infected, mainstream
and global, yet also adult, sly and
often (as some critics have noted) dealing
with what it is to be gay, male and
alone in the modern city.
"You know," ponders Neil
as I set up my MiniDisc, "when
you're doing a week of press the most
interesting thing is the variety of
recording Walkmans you get to see."
"You've got powder on your nose,"
hisses Chris. "At this time of
day," gasps Neil (it's 11am); "must
be talcum."
They're a funny couple. Dressed in
metal-look Versace ("It's our uniform
for the week," says Neil, "part
of the installation") it's hard
to really know anything about them in
the 22 minutes we spend together, but
Neil seems more arid and a touch imperial
- Chris more helpful and conciliatory.
Anyway, first question. The new single
is about infidelity and the end of a
relationship: is this an autobiographical
lyric - another sad story in a pantheon
of songs about contact ads, casual sex,
dancefloors, breaking hearts, guild
and tears? "It's inspired by real
events," says Neil, "but I'm
not in a constant state of heartbreak
or loss. But maybe those states are
more interesting to write about. And
happiness is legendarily difficult to
write about."
I once interviewed Tom Watkins, the
boys' first manager - and later manager
of East 17 amongst others. Watkins told
me that gay men are uniquely positioned
to make pop because they have much in
common with teenage girls (pop's biggest
consumers) - both gay men and teenage
girls, he insisted, share a passion
for cock and live in a constant state
of romantic angst and tearful break-up.
"I don't think I'm in a teenage
state," protest Neil (Neil Francis
Tennant, born July 10th, 1954; Christopher
Sean Lowe, born October 4th, 1959).
"I think you can be a heterosexual
man and still behave like a teenager
- look at all the laddish 45-year olds
running around shagging supermodel type
things - I don't think it's a uniquely
gay phenomenon."
It might seem unfair to harp on the
gay aspect of the boys (only Neil has
officially 'come out') when, as Neil
warns me, he hopes his songs are universally
applicable. But there's much about them
that's queer - their feeling for hi-NRG,
love for show tunes, samples from Jean
Cocteau movies and trilogy of (allegedly)
HIV songs ('It Couldn't Happen Here',
'Your Funny Uncle' and 'Being Boring').
Especially the hi-NRG - working with
producer Bobby O at the beginning of
their career, the Pet Shop Boys could
almost have been a gay-dance-act. Isn't
it the case, I suggest, that what passes
for mainstream entertainment now - fast
electronic music, bare flesh and designer
drugs - was pre-figured or invented
by the gay NRG scene of the 80s? "That
was mass entertainment in the 80s when
I worked in New York with Bobby,"
recalls Neil. "Places like Paradise
Garage were huge. And I used to go to
Heaven on a Saturday night in 1982 and
it was heaving." "But Neil,
it wasn't mass across the country,"
corrects Chris. "It was the house
explosion that made the difference."
"There was a time," remembers
Neil, "when hi-NRG seemed like
a gay underground movement - when I
was at Smash Hits I used to sit near
the record player we had for checking
the lyrics on records. And I used to
get these Bobby O records and gay records
and play them all day long and at incredibly
loud volumes in the office - before
that they used to sit there in silence.
And I realized it was a kind of pop
thing as well because the records had
great vocals, big melodies and it was
good to dance to as well." Chris
then points out that hi-NRG then became
the sound of mainstream pop thanks to
producers/writers like the Stock, Aitken
and Waterman team. "Which is where
we came in," says Neil. "You
seem to find that the underground dance
sound at the beginning of an era is
normally the mass pop sound by the end
of that era. So you have disco in the
70s, the gay hi-NRG of the 80s and by
the end of the 90s it's the music that
came out of heavy sampling - I wouldn't
know what to call it really but it's
led to Fatboy Slim and what could have
been regarded as rave music going into
the charts at Number One."
And while much has been made of the
Pet Shop Boys' relation to dance - their
song 'It's alright' was a cover (plus
additional Tennant lyrics) of the Sterling
Void early Chicago house record - they
seem to like the dance music that bears
most relation to gay NRG and pop. They
might work with artists like Derek Jarman
or Sam Taylor-Wood but when it comes
to music (remixes by Motiv 8 or the
covers of Culture Beat's 'Mr. Vain'
and Corona's 'Rhythm Of The Night' that
formed part of their live shows) they
seem to avoid the likes of Aphex or
Derrick May. "We like what we like,"
says Chris. "We like Derrick May
just as much as we like 'Rhythm Is A
Dancer' by Snap."
"I hate snobbery in music,"
says Neil. "In the 1970s snobbery
dictated that you had to like progressive
rock but all everyone now remembers
from that period is Slade and disco
music. I think there's an unbearable
amount of snobbery around music nowadays
and I wonder what people will really
remember in ten years time. It's more
likely to be records from the pop end
of things that endure." Although
Felix Da Housekatt is their latest remixer
of choice - cutting two mixes for the
current single. "He's fantastic,"
enthuses Chris. "He manages to
do the 80s sound but update it to now.
I don't know how he does it because
whenever I tried it still sounds 80s".
A minion appears to tell us that the
next journalist is ready. Two more minutes.
Quick then. Do Neil and Chris still
go to clubs?
"I was out last night," says
Chris. "Were you?" asks Neil.
"Where did you go? I don't get
out much myself." "You should
go to Bedrock," suggest Chris.
"I don't want to stay up after
3am," complains Neil. "I know
that's an incredibly unfashionable point
of view. I like to be up by ten every
morning. Like when we were in New York
we went to see Danny [Tenaglia] play
and I was asking what time does he come
on? Like seven in the morning - I'd
rather he came on at nine at night."
"You could always go to bed before
he came on and get up extra early,"
offers Chris. "It's down to the
influence of drugs and ecstasy,"
sighs Neil. "When I used to go
out in the mid 80s the clubs used to
close at three. I had to be up for work.
Don't people work now? I don't know
how they do it because the clubs are
always full." One minute left.
So why do the Pet Shop Boys think people
are drawn to nightclubs? "I think
you can get into a lifestyle where you
can't see an alternative to it,"
decides Neil. "I think it becomes
a way of life where you get into a biological
rhythm of staying up all night and sleeping
all day. And of course there's a basic
human need to meet other people and
socialize." "And there's casual
sex," offers Chris. Thirty seconds.
And drugs. What about drugs? "You
can't talk about drugs anymore,"
snaps Neil. Ten seconds. What about
pop music then. What's pop music? Neil
sighs. "Pop music is music that
is easy to listen to but contains hidden
depths that stirs your emotions."
Times up.
'I Don't Know What You Want But I Can't
Give It Any More' is out now on Parlophone.
Pet Shop Boys headline Creamfields at
the old Liverpool Airport in Speke on
August 28th. Their new album, "Nightlife",
was released in October 1999.
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