Graham Parker and The Rumour -- "Mercury Poisoning" (1979)

Part of the three great angry English men who burst out of the music scene in the late 70's (the other two were Elvis Costello and Joe Jackson), Graham Parker earned his chops on the famous pub rock circuit, which gave us Nick Lowe, Dave Edmunds, Brinsley Schwarz and much of the late Stiff label roster.

While Costello drew from early 60's rock and Jackson rocketed across short, sharp songs, the always-in-aviator-shades Parker was heavily influenced by Motown and other soul music genres which he wore on his sleeve. He infused his rock periodically with Funk Brothers licks and reggae beats ("Don't Ask Me Questions"). With his mates, Parker played as a true band and their recordings were full of energy, a totally live vibe, and often with his own four-piece horn section.

In the first years of his recording career on the Mercury label, Parker cut cover versions of soul classics like a stomping "Hold Back The Night" (by the Trammps), that had the twin guitar attack Thin Lizzy made famous, and The Jackson Five's "I Want You Back," which stays true to the original, as much as nobody sounds like Michael and his brothers!

However, unlike those R&B songs he clearly loved, Parker was full of rage and agony. His lyrics showed a man who didn't believe in compromises in love and friendship, yet often felt betrayed. He didn't suffer fools, and wasn't afraid of sharpening that poison pen in his lyrics. He always had a penchant for two things: somehow bringing in the weather in his lyrics (often raining, with thunderstorms) and making his chorus the entire title of his song ("Passion Is No Ordinary Word," "Discovering Japan," "Stick To Me"). Parker's tunes were anthemic and bluntly confessional sometimes ("Fool's Gold" and "Pouring It All Out"). My friend John's college floor hockey team was named after Parker's "Heat Treatment" and blasted it before each game.

Savvy artists covered his songs, notably his buddy Dave Edmunds ("Back To Schooldays" and "Crawling From The Wreckage") and what I consider to be the definitive version of his song "Thunder and Rain," performed on a long out-of-print album on CBS by singer/actress Ellen Foley (definitely the subject of a future post -- she belted the female date role in Meat Loaf's famous "Paradise By The Dashboard Light").

Parker wanted to break the US market in the worst way, and deservedly so considering his talent. Watching his buddy and former producer Nick Lowe climb on to US radio with "So It Goes" and "Cruel To Be Kind" didn't sit well with him. Finally, after he released a three-sided live album The Parkerilla to fulfill his contract (yes, in the vinyl days, you could do this!), Parker moved to Arista Records.

His first post-Arista signing recording was a bootleg single aimed right at the record company who he felt failed to promote him properly. Usually wrath is incurred towards ex-girlfriends and other creeps, but Parker packed all the venom he could to blast Mercury Records, which truly marked the end of his "pub rock and soul era." A collector's item (which I have somewhere in a box in my basement), the one-sided "Mercury Poisoning" single had a skull and crossbones on the label. And yes, this is probably the catchiest singalong record label blow-off you'll ever hear.


No more pretending now,
the albatross is dying in its nest.
The company is crippling me,
the worst trying to ruin the best, the best.

Their promotion's so lame
They could never ever take it to the real ball game.
Maybe they think I'm a pet,
Well I've got all the diseases
I'm breaking out in sweat, you bet, because

I got, Mercury poisoning
It's fatal and it don't get better!
I got, Mercury poisoning
The best kept secret in the
we--est, hey the we--est.

The boys and me are getting real well known around town
But every time we try to spread the action
Someone always brings it down, down.
I ate the orange and I don't feel well
For them it's inconvenience for me it's hell.
The geriatric staff think we're freaks.
They couldn't sell kebabs to the Greeks, the geeks,
Inaction speaks, and

I got, Mercury poisoning
It's fatal and it don't get better!
I got, Mercury poisoning
The best kept secret in the
we--est, hey the we--est.

Is this a Russian conspiracy,
no it's just idiocy.
Is this a Chinese burn
I gotta dinosaur for a representative
It's got a small brain and it refuses to learn!

Their promotion's so lame
They could never ever take it to the real ball game.
Listen I ain't a pet,
I ain't a token hipster for your monopoly set
You bet because...

I got, Mercury poisoning
It's fatal and it don't get better!
I got, Mercury poisoning
The best kept secret in the
we--est, hey the we--est.


Now a triple live video treat from Graham Parker -- one original and two covers from the Mercury era: First, "Mercury Poisoning" from Japan in 1979... then "Hold Back The Night" from the BBC's "Top Of The Pops in 1977... and finally, "I Want You Back" (featuring some inaccurate voiceover in the beginning talking about Parker's first two albums "in 1969!").

Joe Jackson -- "Sunday Papers" (1979)

Late 70's England was a hotbed of angry young musical men, from the Sex Pistols' Johnny Rotten to the bespectacled and obsessed Elvis Costello. Joe Jackson came off this factory line too, but he abhorred the "new wave" tag and was very vocal about not being associated with Costello.

However, they both shared a penchant for biting satire and shifting musical styles like the weather. While Costello was all sexual frustration, voyeurism, and twisted psyche, Jackson had a comical purview of workaday England and going out for a pint.

His breakneck debut, Look Sharp!, fit into that nice neat short New Wave pop song blueprint of the time, and rarely has one just enjoyed the ride from the musical start. His signature hit, "Is She Really Going Out With Him," still resonates today and my young daughter loved it the moment she heard it for the first time.

When I played her the follow-up single, "Sunday Papers," which I've heard many countless times, I suddenly noticed that wonderful aggressive bass playing from Graham Maby. I don't know why I always took it for granted, but his counterpoint to the opening rhythm guitar chords was killer. But it didn't stop there. Maby's all over the place between the verses that it's practically a showcase for him as opposed to any other band member.

Jackson's band exemplified the sorely missed stripped down nature of the New Wave/punk movement, where all you needed were four musicians -- a drummer, two guitarists and a singer -- to get the point across.

I remember a cultural fascination with the tabloids began around this time and through the early 80's'. It was hip to dig them. Once the Talking Heads incorporated their aesthetic on their album and movie True Stories, that cemented it. However, you've got to credit Joe Jackson for taking a brilliantly funny icy look at them.

Mother doesn't go out any more,
Just sits at home and rolls her spastic eyes.
But every weekend through the door,
Come words of wisdom from the world outside.

If you want to know about the bishop and the actress,
If you want to know how to be a star.
If you want to know about the stains on the mattress,
You can read it in the Sunday papers, Sunday papers.

Mother's wheelchair stays out in the hall,
Why should she go out when the TV's on?
Whatever moves beyond these walls,
She'll know the facts when Sunday comes along.

If you want to know about the man gone bonkers,
If you want to know how to play guitar.
If you want to know about the other suckers,
You can read it in the Sunday papers, read it in the Sunday papers.

Sunday papers don't ask no questions.
Sunday papers don't get no lies.
Sunday papers don't raise objection.
Sunday papers don't got no eyes.

Brother's heading that way now I guess,
He just read something made his face turn blue.
Well I got nothing against the press,
They wouldn't print it if it wasn't true.

If you want to know about the gay politician,
If you want to know how to drive your car.
If you want to know about the new sex position,
You can read it in the Sunday papers, read it in the Sunday papers.


Jackson's first two albums were pretty much all of one piece, clever pop songs with his crack band (I saw Maby many, many years later accompanying Marshall Crenshaw at a small club in Piermont, NY). He then chucked that model, saw the reggae light for Beat Crazy and then did another left turn into swing for Jumping Jive, and yet again towards Cole Porter with Night And Day. He had more in common with Costello's stylistic shifts than he thought.

So let's take a look at the young Joe Jackson, smirking, on top of the world, performing "Sunday Papers" on the UK TV program, "Old Grey Whistle Test."

Joe Jackson - Sunday Papers
Uploaded by ZzeMann