Paul Young – ‘Love Of The Common People’

3 December 1983

Paul Young - 'Love Of The Common People'

Fans of Irish TV and Irish athletics might recognise this from the 1983 episode of Reeling in the Years as the soundtrack to Eamonn Coghlan, Ireland’s star runner of the time, kicking off the final bend to win the World 5000 metres gold in Helsinki. I was a bit too young to be aware of Coghlan’s victory, but soon after there was a picture in our schoolbooks of the money shot: Coghlan pulling up onto the shoulder of the euphoniously-named Russian challenger Dmitriy Dmitriyev and clenching his fists in triumph, with a good 120 metres yet to go. That sort of confidence and success was still a novelty at this point in ’80s Ireland, but that would change.

Paul Young’s ‘Love Of The Common People’ had greater cut-through to my small child brain at the time. Only years later did I find out that the song wasn’t Paul Young’s; it had already been a hit or a cover for a plethora of artists in genres like soul, reggae, Joe Dolan, and country. Young’s version keeps a hint of the reggae swing, especially with a ska-lite trombone solo that’s sadly undersold in the mix, so it’s more interesting than his standard watered-down synth-pop soul. The sleigh bells, family theme and release date suggest to me that this may have been a tilt by Young at a Christmas number one. Another cryptic hint at this is the whole Christmassy-themed video (below). Did he succeed? You’ll have to wait and see.

What also lifts this above Paul Young’s other ’80s hits—admittedly a low bar to clear—are the backing singers: not aiming for soul or any style I know, just shouting out weirdly terse nonsense phrases. The recurring “ah-ai-ee-ai!” is my favourite but I’m also partial to “what’s a naw?” I can’t actually write any of the others; they defy transcription. I think they’re great.

Then right at the end, just as I was enjoying this, Young and his troupe tell me: “don’t forget to pray!” Like I hadn’t heard this enough already in my childhood. So close. Just like poor Dmitriy Dmitriyev: beaten on the final bend.

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