16 November 1989
I know now about Linda Ronstadt’s ’70s back catalogue of Laurel Canyon-style country rock, and about Aaron Neville’s R&B vocal harmonies with his brothers Gary and Phil. At the time, though, to young me these were just two random middle-aged people with yet another schmaltzy romantic ballad that seemed to be played on the radio constantly, determined to put a halt to any up-tempo pop fun. Why did this dreary porridge—I think also of ‘I Just Called To Say I Love You’, ‘Hello’, ‘Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You’ and ‘Right Here Waiting’—keep topping the charts for long stretches of the ’80s? Who enjoyed this? Cui bono?
I suppose the simple answer is that vast numbers of people around the world just like their music this way, which I know is an appalling indictment of human civilisation but here we are. ‘Don’t Know Much’ is dreadful: two grown adults simpering and cooing saccharine lyrics at each other over maudlin piano-playing. The fact that they have pleasant voices offers slight relief but hardly any mitigation; two accomplished singers, each surrounded by their ‘people’, and the best song they could find to sing was this? But again, give the public what they want.
Romantic ballads will continue to delight us after this, of course, but the ’90s fashion is less to simper in the ’80s manner and more to bellow them as loudly as possible, plus garnish them with showy vocal gymnastics. We won’t have insipid, watery treatments like ‘Don’t Know Much’ at number one for weeks on end so much in the ’90s, at least not until the outbreak of Boyzone in the latter half of the decade. Asking me which style I prefer is like asking me in which eye I’d prefer to receive a red-hot poker. Still, it’ll be interesting to see how that change in fashion came about—mostly because of one song, a 1990 US Billboard chart-topper but barely a top ten hit here in Ireland and the UK at the time. Bet you can’t wait!
