20 August 1983
We were on holiday in Wexford that summer, having breakfast in the hotel dining room. I was seven years old. The radio was on: Marty Whelan’s morning show on the then-RTE Radio 2, soon to be rebranded as 2FM. One of the dining room staff was going from table to table, arranging the settings, while singing along to the song on the radio, ‘Give It Up’ by KC and the Sunshine Band. This was a mind-opening revelation to me.
My parents never listened to 2FM or any pop music radio, which meant that I as a child never listened to pop music radio; instead I scavenged bits of Top of the Pops and whatever was on kids TV or the evening chat shows my parents watched. (Don’t worry; I made up for lost time in my teens.) That breakfast waitress in the hotel in Wexford was the first grown-up I ever saw who clearly loved modern-day pop music as much as I did. This was also the first time I really felt the power of a chart hit to jump into people’s brains and hearts, and even to jump from person to person: Kevin Rowland‘s Johnnie Ray effect in action.
It helped, of course, that ‘Give It Up’ has an insanely, joyously, irresistibly wonderful chorus. Many, many other people have also sung it since then. Arsenal fans in the ’00s used it to chant the name of Samir Nasri, though that love affair didn’t last. A couple of years ago on the LUAS in Dublin I heard a group of teenage lads using the same tune to slag each other: “Na-na na-na-na na-na-na na na na! Paddy wants a ride! Wants a ride! Paddy wants a ride!” (Yes, one of them was called Paddy.) And you’re singing it to yourself right now.
The rest of the track is quite good too: a real throwback to prime disco. Those keyboards sound a bit plasticky now but are redeemed by the whistling flute. The four-on-the-floor disco beat is swept along by other bubbling rhythms that call to mind places like Miami and Havana. KC himself isn’t the most engaging of singers, and it’s probably best not to think the lyrics through. Those aren’t fatal quibbles, though.
‘Give It Up’ may be fluff, but it’s 24-carat-golden fluff. Unless it’s a tune that has some unfortunate association for you that’s not of its own doing, I really can’t conceive of anyone not enjoying this sun-kissed summer holiday on the Costa del Pop.
