I Never Thought I’d Like Them Half as Much as I Do

(Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Madness)

After cranking out hit after hit in the UK for about four years, Madness finally cracked the fickle American market in 1983 with “Our House.” That classic track took the band into the U.S. Top 10 and served as the primary entry point for their American fans, myself included. But I have to admit, I wasn’t convinced to jump aboard the nutty train right away.

I can recall with great clarity when I first heard ”Our House,” as a wee lad of 13. At the time my favorite band was Men at Work, and as a younger kid I was into Kiss and The B-52s. I was home alone after school, sitting at the kitchen table doing homework with the radio on. This very peculiar song came blasting out, a torrent of pounding piano and bombastic brass and swirling strings. No arena rock guitar riffs or electronic synth beats to be found. What we had here was something foreign, in more ways than one.

At first I thought it must be an advertisement. Some kind of real estate insurance jingle? An Olde-England flavored ditty for Merry Maids? A public service announcement on quality family time from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints? But no, this jaunty little tune kept rollicking on and on past the :30 mark. It was no commercial… it was an actual music-song-type song, of some hitherto unknown variety. 

I put my pencil down and stuck my head into the radio speaker to try and figure out what the heck I was listening to. So it’s this British guy urgently waxing poetic about his family unit and the daily routine activities transpiring in their domicile. How weird is that? I distinctly remember being confused about the chorus, which to me sounded like “Ah, house.” I reasoned that the nostalgia-ridden singer was wistfully addressing his old childhood home by name: “Ah, house. Ah, room. Ah, cow jumping over the moon.” In the middle of “Ah” street?

This moment left an impression on me, obviously. But I was not an instant fan. It was more like I’d been struck by a hit-and-run ice cream truck that went speeding away lickety-split with its jolly chime echoing in the distance. What in the world was that? The music was kinda catchy, but the vocal style and general cutesiness put me off a bit. My American Bandstand hot take: it’s got a good beat and you can dance to it, but it sounds like children’s music. I’d just become a teenager, after all, at that age when you’re out to prove you’re not a kid anymore. To those ears, “Ah, House” sounded childish next to the likes of The Police and Duran Duran, with their PG-rated songs of sex and obsession and adulting.

It wasn’t long after this first exposure that I gave the daft alien melody another round of scrutiny. And this time my judgment was far more charitable, thanks to the visionary genius of one Mr. Dave Robinson. Yes, it was the music video that won me over.

MTV doesn’t get the credit, because our backwater North Carolina cable provider didn’t add the channel until a year or so later. For music videos I depended on Night Tracks on SuperStation TBS, Night Flight on USA, and Friday Night Videos on NBC. It would have been on one of these beloved programs that I first saw the video for that oddball British song. By virtue of the credit captions, I learned that the name of the band was Madness, and of course they weren’t singing “Ah, House” at all. “Our” did make a lot more sense, didn’t it?

More to the point, the entire song made a lot more sense, given context by that completely brilliant video. Putting faces to the odd noises coming out of the radio, I suddenly got a better sense of who these guys were. And man, they were so cool! They were silly and clowning around, sure, but Madness no longer seemed juvenile once you got a look at ’em. Nor were they preening fancy lads like A Flock of Seagulls or Kajagoogoo. There was a grubby and working-class edge to their bouncy sound. Their humor shared points of reference with Monty Python, per the hirsute sax player in drag playing the pepperpot housewife, and the lot of them lounging in a hot tub with knotted Gumby handkerchiefs on their heads. And that lead singer! Flattop haircut, fingerless black gloves, snazzy gray suit jacket, all those frantic gestures and rubbery facial expressions. He was kind of ugly, but kind of handsome at the same time. Right away he was my favorite member of the group. 

The sequence with the guitar solo most clearly crystalized the song’s meaning, moving from boyhood air guitar to Elvis phase to Beatles obsession to new wave rocker in the space of 15 seconds. It’s a song about growing up, and remembering all those things you miss in lots of ways.

Soon I bought my first Madness “album,” Geffen’s self-titled 1983 U.S. compilation with the billiards cover. Which, as best as I knew, was the band’s debut album, featuring their first hit song. But even that purchase was a complicated decision, because avid music video consumption had got me interested in both Madness and Eurythmics. Finances were limited back then, and I couldn’t just go out and buy two albums (cassette tapes, actually) at the same time like a Rockefeller. After much deliberation I decided Madness was the one for me to risk my allowance on. And yeah, you can probably guess where this is going. It wasn’t love at first listen. 

Even though I was sold on how awesome “Our House” was, the other 11 tracks didn’t thrill me. Too much repetition of annoying little phrases (“Close your eyes and count to three… 1-2-3!” “Three cheers, hip hip hip!” “Welcome to the house of fun!”), too many annoying little sound effects (carnival noises, a thumping heartbeat, a foghorn). Again I found myself back in that initial radio-listener position of thinking Madness sounded immature and cringey. Drat it all, how I wished I had spent my precious dollars on Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) instead!

And once again, it was the music video that made the difference. As I recall, within the same week that I bought the disappointing Madness tape, I saw the video for “It Must Be Love.” Boom. The scales dropped from my eyes and the cotton unplugged from my ears. “It Must Be Love” no longer sounded so syrupy sweet, leavened by jogging undertakers, people in bird and bee costumes, and the guitarist and sax player playing their instruments underwater (swimming “with” a killer whale, for some reason). The lead singer, whose name I learned from the cassette liner notes was G. Suggs McPherson, was even cooler and more charismatic than in the “Our House” video. I’d never felt a real urge to “be” a given pop star before, but I wanted to be Suggs. In this particular case The Buggles were wrong: Video saved the radio star. 

I went back to my Madness tape with renewed interest, incrementally calibrating my sense of this band’s identity and what their music meant. The idiosyncrasies in their sound ceased to seem childish or annoying. There was much to learn about Madness, and I was now an eager student.

When Madness pierced the veil of American pop culture in 1983, the rupture opened only a tiny pinhole for us to gaze through. The view was foggy, distorted and incomplete. I formed false first impressions, and most of my countrymen barely registered any at all prior to that ephemeral pinhole sealing back up. But I heard something and felt something on the other side of that trans-Atlantic barrier, so I clawed open my own damn pinhole with my bare hands. I worked at it, I kept listening, I scoured music magazines for scant precious information, I tracked down their past recordings, I became a loyally devoted fan, and I stretched that pinhole wide enough to climb though and tumble headlong into the realm of Madness. I put in the time and effort, digging to excavate the gold I knew was there beneath the surface. 

Suffice to say, I found it. In the middle of “Ah” street.

More of Trull’s Mad Memories

Who Are Your Fantasy 2 Tone All Stars?

Whilst reveling in the audiovisual splendor of the remastered Dance Craze on Blu-ray, I found myself wonderstruck at all the raw young talent that emerged at the same time, in the same country, sharing a ska revival moment that lasted all too briefly. I’ve known this music since I was a wee teenager, but this gorgeous new Dance Craze breathes such relentless vitality into that roster of legendary performers that I’m just left in awe. All these legends on stage – these kids – are so f***ing great! How was that even possible?

And in the finest traditions of sports fans and comic book nerds, my mind turned to hypothetical crossover glories. What if you could assemble your own personal 2 Tone dream team? What if you could journey back to 1980 (the year of Dance Craze) to draft all your favorites from their youthful prime and put them together in a British ska supergroup? Who should be nominated to the Traveling Wilburys of 2 Tone? The Mount Rushmore of the rocksteady beat? One’s mind boggles at the hypothetical hard-skanking combos.

Thus, following carefully considered reflection (and limiting my inherent Madness bias to two slots only), I hereby present the lineup for my ultimate fantasy ska orchestra.

Suggs may be my #1 favorite member of Madness, but I honestly have to go with Terry on this one. He’s just the personification of the 2 Tone frontman, no question. Aloof but impassioned, angry but intellectual, low-key but electrifying. And I discovered Pauline Black and The Selecter by way of the Dance Craze soundtrack, which captured some of her finest vocals. Watching the new Blu-ray, I’m enthralled with her stage presence. In my imagined supergroup, sometimes Terry sings lead, sometimes Pauline sings lead, and on some tunes they duet.

Alternate draft pick: Suggs

With his fast-flowing rhymes drenched in vibrant Jamaican patois, Roger always made certain every gig was a jubilant party. I can’t put it any better than Jerry Dammers’ words of eulogy: “If one person had to be picked to epitomise everything that was good and positive about the British ska movement and its youthful spirit, I think it would have to be Roger.”

Alternate draft pick: Chas Smash

For starters, Monsieur Barso has to be the most recognizable keyboard player I know of. After just a couple of bars, you know it’s him. Mike has the skill to govern the whole structure of a song with his keys, while leaving his bandmates plenty of room to do their own thing. Whereas most British ska keyboardists focus on Hammond-style organ, Mike gives equal attention to piano well, which ties back more closely to the traditions of Jamaican ska.

Alternate draft pick: Jerry Dammers

In my appreciation of the recent deluxe edition of The Selecter’s Celebrate the Bullet, I came to the late realization that Neol is the best guitarist from the 2 Tone scene. Guitar is primarily a rhythm instrument in the milieu of ska, with the occasional blast of a Roddy Radiation or Chris Foreman solo. But Neol went further in painting layered epic six-string soundscapes like 2 Tone’s version of Jimmy Page or The Edge. 

Alternate draft pick: Andy Cox

Just listen to any given track on The Specials’ self-titled debut. Lynval is the master of the distinctive ska upstroke on the offbeats. Always fast, clean and precise, driving forward in lockstep with the drums and bass. None better.

Alternate draft pick: Chris Foreman

In my book, the two most essential components of the nutty Madness sound are Barson on keyboards and Bedford on bass. Which is why I named them my two all-star delegates from Madness without hesitation. Bedders was already a virtuoso of smooth and slinky rock-jazz-ska basslines in 1980, when, lest we forget, he was but a tender 19 years old. Besides, the man has thoroughly proven himself as a team player in massive ska orchestras.

Alternate draft pick: David Steele

Following Brad’s untimely death in 2015, I started listening to his Specials recordings with renewed appreciation. His drumming didn’t necessarily call attention to itself, what with all the other sonic explosions the band put on stage, but man, did he work hard. Brad kept himself busy with all kinds of complex drum fills and cymbal work while pounding on the base pedal and snare. A real gem.

Alternate draft pick: Everett Morton

Jamaican-born Lionel Martin, the great Saxa, was the 2 Tone scene’s living link to the original ska scene, and already an elder statesman of 50 at the time of Dance Craze. The man put a depth of emotion into his lonesome tenor tones that you could feel in your very soul. Saxa’s solo on “Mirror in the Bathroom” is a masterclass.

Alternate draft pick: Lee Thompson

I mean, duh. Obviously.

Alternate draft pick: Gus “Hot Lips” Herman

So that’s my ska fantasy lineup, for what it’s worth. It’s a fun thought experiment, if nothing more. Who would you choose for yours? Could anyone’s all-star band have been the most potent colossus to play the skank chop riddim since the Skatalites, or would ideas and egos clash with no chemistry in a shambolic mess?

Of course, we’ll never know. Then again, with A.I. simulations progressing the way they are, maybe soon we’ll be able to punch some buttons and hear any musicians from recorded history “perform” any setlist at one’s whim. Until that day, here’s a little-remembered real-life ska supergroup that starred several of my draft picks: the 1985 famine benefit project called Starvation.

Stephen Colbert Presents Madness in (R) House

Madness has turned up on American late night TV lots of times before, notably on David Letterman, Conan O’Brien and Jimmy Kimmel. And now they’ve made an unexpected debut on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, as the inspiration for one of the show’s cold open parody songs. Colbert borrowed the tune and music video for “Our House” to lampoon the prolonged Speakerless madness plaguing our House of Representatives at the outset of 2023.

Kevin looking all distressed
His dream’s a mess
He’s failed the test
Now it’s been 10 times
His plans have all unraveled
To win the gavel
He’ll crawl through gravel
Then hand his nuts to her [Lauren Boebert]

(R) House
Where the votes go on and on
(R) House
Mostly run by QAnon
(R) House
Filled with nihilistic rage
(R) House
This guy [Matt Gaetz] likes them underage
(R) House
Mostly filled with jerks and crooks
(R) House
Look how happy Nancy [Pelosi] looks

Now it’s always a welcome sight to see Madness turn up in American media and prove they they still have some measure of cultural relevance, for sure. But honestly, Colbert’s writers room was a bit hacky on those lyrics, and Stateside Madness is compelled to take a better stab at it, starting from a more appropriate Madness tune.

With giggles from his MAGA foes
Mr. Speaker gets the bird
Now how on earth does he propose
To lead this House of the absurd?

Fifteen grabs, he takes the crown
Thinks he’s won, pathetic joke
In deals with devils Kevin found
Concessions and “Present” votes

Mr. Speaker gets the bird
Denied the power once assured
Fails so fast his fails are blurred
Mr. Speaker oooh... gets a turd

Comeuppance rages through his brain
Sold his soul for thankless years
Not enough time for his reign
Soon they’ll toss him out of here...

Dance Craze DVD/Blu-ray and Deluxe Soundtrack in 2023

It’s a rude dream come true! The legendary 1981 concert film Dance Craze is set for release as a DVD/Blu-ray set on March 27, 2023. This cult classic vividly showcases “the best of British ska, LIVE!” in all its hyperactive glory – including The Specials, Madness, The Selecter, The Beat, Bad Manners and The Bodysnatchers.

Issued by the prestigious British Film Institute (BFI), the Dance Craze dual format set boasts a 4K restoration from original film materials, with new 5.1 surround and Dolby Atmos soundtracks co-supervised by Jerry Dammers plus the original mono. The release is further reported to include outtakes and other bonus materials to be announced.

As if that weren’t exciting enough (and it damned well is), there will be an accompanying Deluxe Edition of the Dance Craze soundtrack album as box sets of 3 LPs or 3 CDs, out on March 23, 2023. For the first time ever, these releases will include all 27 songs from the film, as well as the original 14-track compilation from 1981.

  1. The Specials: Nite Klub
  2. Madness: The Prince
  3. Bad Manners: Ne Ne Na Na Na Na Nu Nu
  4. The Bodysnatchers: 007
  5. The Selecter: Three Minute Hero
  6. The Beat: Ranking Full Stop
  7. The Beat: Big Shot
  8. The Specials: Concrete Jungle
  9. Madness: Swan Lake
  10. Madness: Razor Blade Alley
  11. The Selecter: Missing Words
  12. The Bodysnatchers: Let’s Do Rock Steady
  13. Bad Manners: Lip Up Fatty
  14. Madness: Madness
  15. The Specials: Too Much Too Young
  16. The Selecter: On My Radio
  17. The Bodysnatchers: Easy Life
  18. The Beat: Rough Rider
  19. The Specials: Man at C&A
  20. Bad Manners: Inner London Violence
  21. Madness: Night Boat to Cairo
  22. The Beat: Twist & Crawl
  23. Bad Manners: Woolly Bully
  24. The Selecter: Too Much Pressure
  25. The Beat: Mirror in the Bathroom
  26. Madness: One Step Beyond
  27. The Specials: Nite Klub (Reprise)

The Dance Craze film has long been notoriously “unreleased” and “unavailable” because of copyright and ownership disputes. Outside of rare screenings of well-preserved prints, most fans have seen it only via VHS bootlegs and hideous blurry YouTube uploads with muffled sound. Now that’s all about to change, and Stateside Madness is here for it! For those keeping score, this will mark the first time anything Madness-related is available on Blu-ray Disc. Welcome to high definition, lads! And finally we get to hear the film’s rollicking renditions of “Swan Lake” and “Madness” in crystal clear audio mixes. 

But will these holy grails be released in the U.S.? The deluxe soundtrack is coming from Chrysalis/2 Tone, whose recent reissues have seen widespread American release, so that should be no problem. The BFI DVD/Blu-ray, on the other hands, may have to be had as an import, unless some U.S. distributor like Eagle Rock or Rhino were to pick it up (pick it up, pick it up). Update: The official 2 Tone online store has the Dance Craze film and soundtrack box sets listed in U.S. dollars for overseas shipping (in numerous bundled configurations), so you can get ’em that way if they don’t turn up in our domestic retail channels.

While we wait for March to get here, take a look at my personal reflections on the classic soundtrack album, Dance Craze and My Higher Education.

“The Get Up!” Coming to CD/DVD

Madness will be releasing their acclaimed 2021 global livestream event The Get Up! as a CD/DVD set on November 18, 2022. An inventive response to the pandemic lockdown, The Get Up! featured the band playing live at the London Palladium to an audience consisting only of themselves (as snarky hecklers), interspersed with comedy bits crafted by co-star and screenwriter Charlie Higson.

Among the production’s many highlights are special guest vocalists Paul Weller and Roland Gift, the sparkling new compositions “If I Go Mad,” “Baby Burglar” and “The Theatre of the Absurd,” tardy Lee Thompson’s farcical efforts to find his way into the Palladium, and Mike Barson’s monumental performance as the late Queen Elizabeth II.

The CD/DVD track list:

  1. Act 1 – Rehearsals
  2. My Girl (Rehearsal)
  3. Bed and Breakfast Man (Rehearsal)
  4. Feel So Fine (Rehearsal)
  5. Theatre Interlude 1
  6. Concrete and Clay (Audition feat. Roland Gift)
  7. Theatre Interlude 2
  8. The Harder They Come (Audition feat. Paul Weller)
  9. Theatre Interlude 3
  10. The Prince (Audition feat. Suggs)
  11. Madness (Band Naming Rehearsal)
  12. Theatre Interlude 4
  13. Act 2 – One Step Beyond
  14. Embarrassment
  15. Baby Burglar
  16. NW5
  17. House of Fun
  18. Baggy Trousers
  19. Shut Up
  20. Night Boat to Cairo
  21. If I Go Mad
  22. Our House
  23. It Must Be Love
  24. The Theatre of the Absurd
  25. House of Fun (Reprise)

The Get Up! was billed as a “one-time-only” streaming event, but thank goodness it’s being issued in a more permanent format where more fans will have the opportunity to see and hear it. This is more than a simple ephemeral live show. It’s a bonafide film, and in many ways the direct sequel to Take It or Leave It some 40 years later. Suggs asks early on, “Won’t it be a bit weird without an audience?” Not really, now that the overlooked gem of The Get Up! can score the broader viewership it deserves. Don’t miss it! Order from the official Madstore or Amazon US.

Read the full Stateside Madness review of The Get Up! (as quoted in the official Madness press release).

I’m Gonna Take You to Ska City, NC

I became a fan of ska music in a distant foreign land where such music is unheard and unheard of: the mountains of western North Carolina. Madness was my entry point, which led to the English Beat, the Specials and the rest of the 2 Tone scene, and eventually brought me to ska’s Jamaican roots in the Skatalites and Prince Buster. Content with my many obscure interests, I knew ska was never going to be a thing in the land of my birth, and that was okay.

Fast forward to the spring of this year, when I was visiting my family in Waynesville and found some info my sister had printed about a free summer concert series in the neighboring town of Sylva. The scheduled acts for the Concerts on the Creek series ran the gamut of expected local tastes: classic rock, bluegrass, country, beach music, Jimmy Buffett covers. But hello, what’s this odd little listing?

Friday, Aug. 19: SKA City, ska music (7-9 p.m.)

ZOMG what in the…? Wait, that’s a typo, right? A ska band? Performing for my ancestral homefolk? Who are presumably meant to show up voluntarily? Is this real life? No, it couldn’t be… but yes it is.

Immediately I was determined to witness this show. More than that, I needed to connect with Ska City and find out what they’re all about. There was surely a kinship to explore here, a bond between geographically unlikely troubadours and blogger, each of us fighting the good fight for musical skappreciation in the wilds of North Carolina!

The history of Ska City dates back to 2019 when some Asheville-area musicians met up through Craigslist to form a small ska group that included Will Chatham (drums), Dennis Owenby (sax) and Vinnie Sullivan (guitar). The lineup shifted and expanded into the current population of nine Ska Citizens, rounded out by Julia Ruff (lead vocals), Rob Grace (keyboards), Garrick Smith (baritone sax), Dave Wilken (trombone), Gabe Holguin (trumpet) and Rob Heyer (bass). Rob Grace is an expatriate from Coventry, lending the enterprise a dash of authentic British ska cred. Out of the other members, Will is my only fellow native North Carolinian, with the rest drawn from various parts of the U.S. by Asheville’s renowned weirdo magnet.

So what gave Ska City the courage to skank it up in a ska-less land where black and white checkerboard means the NASCAR race is over with?

“One of the theories behind this group is that we’d either do well or go down in flames,” Vinnie says. “The reason being, is a ton of people we spoke to about doing a ska band would say, ‘SKA! Holy crap, I used to go to ska shows all the time!’ We knew the audience was there, just weren’t sure if we’d get people coming out. But we’ve been doing pretty good, getting bigger audiences and better gigs as we go along.”

Can it really be as easy as that? Ska bands are famously disrespected by the unenlightened, and us rude boys and rude girls have been subjected to simple rudeness. Has Ska City ever had to pacify a hostile crowd by resorting to “Rawhide” or “Stand by Your Man”? 

“Ha! Great question. No, never had to appease a crowd,” Vinnie says. “I assume we’re winning over anyone with an open mind, if they’ve never heard of or liked ska in the first place. We pepper the set with originals and classic ska and other covers, some covers that a country fan, for example, might recognize and get into.”

And what about covers that readers of this blog might get into? Of course I had to ask Vinnie, where does Ska City stand on Madness?

“We love Madness, a few of us have been ska fans since WAY back.” Unfortunately, there are no Madness or Prince Buster numbers in Ska City’s current set, but Vinnie suggests that could change. “I’d love to do ‘One Step Beyond’ or ‘Our House,’ classics for sure.”

The Ska City show took place at Sylva’s Bridge Park, which has a nice bandstand pavilion in front of scenic Scott Creek, with a big lawn where it’s BYO folding chairs and blankets. A paved patch in front of the stage serves as the dance floor. It turns out the band previously played here in 2021, so clearly it went over well enough for them to be invited back. The gathering all-ages crowd was already showing signs of interest during the sound check, which further boded well for the evening ahead. Ska City started the show proper will a peppy take on Otis Redding’s “I Can’t Turn You Loose,” widely recognized as the Blues Brothers’ opening theme. That made me smile in light of my earlier questions about any possible Bob’s Country Bunker nightmares.

The set list shrewdly kept the band engaged with a fair number of familiar songs without at all pandering: “The Tide Is High” (originally recorded by Jamaican rocksteady group The Paragons before Blondie made it a hit), Stevie Wonder’s “You Can Feel It All Over,” Dusty Springfield’s “Son of a Preacher Man,” Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl” (rendered with the original lyric of “Brown Skinned Girl”), Billie Eilish’s “Bad Guy,” and an inventive take on Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire.”

But Ska City is no novelty cover band. They pride themselves on original compositions that slot in nicely beside the multi-genre standards in their set. A couple of drinking-related songs went down well with the crowd: Dennis Owenby’s “Raise Your Glass” and Dave Wilken’s “Pizza and Beer.” Another original (whose name I didn’t catch) addressed the challenges of finding romantic time with kids in the house, which must have resonated with the young parents of the rugrats running around all night. I enjoyed the band’s self-titled theme song, which Julia introduces as a primer on the meaning of ska. “There’s a little place (Ska City!) I’m gonna take you to (Ska City!) You’re gonna love it there! Bring your mama to (Ska City!)” The lyrics namecheck Prince Buster, 2 Tone, Coventry, The Specials, Selecter, The English Beat… but alas, not Madness. I has a sad. 😢

Ah well, I can forgive ’em that. I could still feel the archetypal presence of Madness at work, if only in my mind. Rob Heyer has a jazzy Bedders bounce in his bass, and Rob Grace conjures cool Barson energy in his porkpie hat and shades while laying down mellifluous organ. Most striking of all, saxman Dennis Owenby is the Lee Thompson of North Carolina, in stature as well as impish demeanor. “This next one’s a song we didn’t write,” Dennis quipped. “It’s still pretty good, though.”

Ska City had me hooked from the start. It was all over early in the set when the horn section heralded “Rudy, A Message to You” and I had to haul my ass straight to the dance floor. I did my best to exhort the crowd to take heed of Rudy’s cautionary tale, jumping around the concrete slab with some kids and a few senior citizens. (Plus the one dad in a ska T-shirt who joined in later, bless him.)

That huge classic led directly into the best moment of the night, a spectacular interpretation of “Take Five” by Dave Brubeck. Ska City is far from the first ska or reggae act to tackle this revered jazz standard, but they really nailed it. The band got a serious Skatalites stretching-out groove cooking, with about everyone taking extended solos breaks in turn – just thoroughly impressive. The other high points for me were a blazing runthrough of Toots & The Maytals’ call-and-response colossus “54-46 (Was My Number)”, and the joyous shifting tempos of Dexy’s Midnight Runners’ “Come on Eileen” that closed the show with a suitable bang.

Here D. Trull shows the good people of Sylva how to ska.

All in all, Ska City delivered an evening of personal affirmation for me, and hopefully an entertaining discovery for other attendees. People always ask “What is ska?” But it’s something you can’t explain in words, or with YouTube videos, and maybe not even by playing great records. The only way to understand ska is to hear a good band play live. In this respect, my new comrades in Ska City are doing a fine public service.

Like the song says, I literally did bring my mama to Ska City – and my sister too. And I think now they know me a little better.

Thanks to Vinnie Sullivan and Rob Grace for graciously chatting with me for this article. Check out Ska City at Ska.City and on Facebook and YouTube.

A Momentary Lapse of Madness: 1986-1992

The breakup of Madness. A bleak, dispiriting time that all of us longtime fans had to suffer through in our own way. Of course 1986 wasn’t really the end, but we had no way of knowing that. For us it felt as permanent as the end of The Beatles or Led Zeppelin or The Jam. It’s going to be a challenge to write an essay on the years without Madness without being completely boring, but hey, being boring hasn’t stopped me so far. In my personal case, the breakup years coincided with a transitional growth period in my life that fortunately made the loss easier to cope with.

Certainly, no one who followed the band could say the breakup came as a shock. The writing was on the wall after the departure of Mike Barson. I’ve never written a blog post dedicated to 1985’s Mad Not Mad because I just don’t have much to say about it. I know a lot of fans love that album, and I respect that. But to me it was and still remains the low point of the Madness discography. I forced myself to play it with much dutiful enthusiasm, much like Homer Simpson’s hungry rationalizations over his runaway BBQ piglet: “It’s just a little synthesizery. It’s still good, it’s still good!”

More precisely, Mad Not Mad is analogous to the final season of Monty Python’s Flying Circus without John Cleese. Yes, there are moments of brilliance (see “Burning the Boats,” “Coldest Day,” “Michael Ellis,” “The Most Awful Family in Britain”), but the overall endeavor is a giant hemorrhaging wound with one indispensable creative contributor gone missing. Things fall apart. The center cannot hold.

Rumors were buzzing about that Madness was going to call it quits. I clearly recall how I got the confirmation in the most gentle and considerate way I could have asked for. One morning in 11th grade homeroom, I got a visitation from Julie Hale, a preeminent figure in our school’s punk rock community. She and I were by no means friends, just cordial acquaintances. But Julie Hale came to me that morning with her head held low, face hidden behind pink hair, hands clasped in fingerless gloves as she shared the grim news. “It’s true, Donald. Madness broke up. I’m so sorry.” And Julie Hale’s word on the alternative music scene was gospel, so this was a rumor no more. It was honestly touching that our gothic queen sought me out, in observance of my position as Tuscola High School’s #1 Madness fan, to serve as a solemn angel of mercy. The revelation sure could have gone worse delivered by others among my classmates: “Ha ha, stupid Madness broke up! You suck! In the middle of suck street!” Thank you for that kindness, Julie.

I’m kinda foggy on how I reacted from that point, reading that “(Waiting for the) Ghost Train” was their farewell single and finally getting to hear the song on MTV some months later. But I wasn’t devastated really. Looking back, I think I was inured by the tragic fate that befell my other favorite band of that era, the legendary California punk trio the Minutemen. I had discovered them in 1984, just a year after I got into Madness – but their mighty guitarist/vocalist D. Boon was killed in a car crash in late 1985. (Since then I have written creatively as D. Trull in tribute to him.) Within the space of a year, the two most significant bands of my high school years were both gone. In the case of Madness, though, all the members were still alive and well. And it was clear Suggs and the gang needed to find themselves new creative directions anyway. Exciting next chapters might lie ahead for them. So I was able to keep that breakup in perspective and carry on.

Contemporaneous with the end of Madness, in 1986 the surviving members of the Minutemen made a new start. Bassist Mike Watt and drummer George Hurley formed fIREHOSE, fronted by a young Minutemen fan from Ohio named Ed Crawford. fIREHOSE swiftly filled the void in my life left by Madness’s departure. In my 1987 freshman year at UNC, fIREHOSE came to play in Chapel Hill and cemented their spot as my new favorite band. Their live shows were electrifying, and I got to chat with the gregarious Watt at gigs and even helped him write set lists. I felt more personally invested in and connected to the dudes from San Pedro than I’d ever felt with the boys from Camden Town. Madness had been my high school soundtrack, but fIREHOSE was my college music, no question about it. It wasn’t like I shunned Madness or quit listening to them. They just become a notch less important, a chapter of my past.

I got my first compact disc player in my freshman year, and that technological advance indirectly sustained my interest in Madness. Embarking on the obsessive (and expensive) scavenger hunt to repurchase my music collection on shiny silver discs, I found obscure acts like Madness were tough to procure in the new format. I believe the first Madness CD I got was an import of Utter Madness, or it may have been One Step Beyond. Whichever came first, I was sorely thirsty for them. It dazzled my ears to savor those nutty old tunes mastered in sparkling digital clarity. Toward the end of my college years I snagged the compilation It’s… Madness, as discussed at length in my post on B-sides. Hearing a whole slew of new-to-me Madness tracks reinvigorated my love for the band, now affirmed as more than a silly schoolboy phase I went through. Nope, that silly schoolboy phase never ended.

And all this time, I was entirely unaware of what the former members of Madness were getting up to. The Madness, Crunch!, Voice of the Beehive… all of their late ’80s projects were so low profile in the United States, they didn’t register on my radar throughout college. Reading an interview with Watchmen artist Dave Gibbons in a comics fan magazine circa 1988, I saw these blocky illustrations of symmetrical cartoon faces captioned as his album artwork for “The Madness.” Well, that was bullshit, I thought. Some upstart band had the nerve to call themselves The Madness now? It would be another couple of years until I learned that these interlopers were in fact Suggs, Cathal, Chris and Lee.

Alas, to everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. I graduated from UNC in 1991, and as if turning on some cosmic calendar my musical constellations shifted once again. fIREHOSE was losing their pressure flow, so to speak, and they broke up a couple of years later. I would need a new artist to play the soundtrack of my twenties. Paul Weller, an old hero whose Style Council work I’d lost track of during my college years, roared back with a thrilling new solo career to assume that role.

And yet there was still another creative renaissance underway at this critical juncture. I got the message from a Worldwide CD mail order catalog that our beloved Julie Hale probably subscribed to as well, wherever she was. New import CD release: MADNESS AT MADSTOCK. Live recording from 1992 reunion at London’s Finsbury Park.

Our long dark tea-time of the Mad was ended.

Haaaaallelujah… Lay-loo-yah…!

More Mad Memories

The SSM Review: “Ooh Do U Fink U R?”

I’m totally biased about this one. Here we have my two favorite living male vocalists, both heroes of my youth, singing together on an original composition they co-wrote. Not gonna lie, Suggs and Paul Weller could fart the theme song from Gomer Pyle, USMC and I would wholeheartedly adore it. So take the following “critique” with whatever quarries of salt your cynicism may dictate.

That being said… “Ooh Do U Fink U R?” is an amazing and delightful singularity of a single. I have played its brisk 2:24 on repeat over and over and over and over again, and every bit of this track puts a big stupid grin on my face. What a thing of joy it is.

The major standout and surprise to me is the deliberate misdirection of the title. In interviews over the past year or so, Suggs and Weller have teased “Who Do You Think You Are, Sunshine?” Such a colourful taunt evokes Cockney tough guys and criminals, suggesting a ballad along the lines of “Drip Fed Fred” or “Herbert,” or even “Down in the Tube Station at Midnight.” Maybe something in an Ian Dury vein, with Paul and Suggs trading spoken-word lines, conspiratorial and tongue in cheek. If the song had gone in this direction, it could have turned out really good or really silly. This project ran a high risk of yielding a disposable curiosity if the creative duo didn’t take it seriously.

But you know what? The self-styled “Neverly Brothers” opted for sincerity and plunged headlong into emotional honesty like I never expected. Suggs has told interviewers that the song is about the discouraging negativity he had to overcome as a schoolboy. It’s not other kids or hoodlums doing the abusive bullying, but the supposedly nurturing faculty.

“I think teachers are the best people in the world, I love them with all my heart,” Suggs says. “But you know all those great teachers you read about who dragged their pupils up, and encouraged them and made them into the best possible version of themselves they could be? Well, unfortunately, I didn’t have one of those!”

In studying institutional suppression of nonconforming youth, “Ooh Do U Fink U R?” is reminiscent of Lee Thompson compositions like “Land of Hope and Glory,” “Idiot Child” and “I Believe.” But it may be more fair to call the song a dark spiritual sequel to Suggs’ own “Baggy Trousers.” It may be true that lots of fun was had, but it’s also worth pointing out how things can turn out bad… when teachers fail their students who don’t fit the standardized system. Clearly this is a theme that resonates with Weller as well, aligning with his lyrics from 1977’s “The Modern World.”

I've learned more than you'll ever know
Even at school I felt quite sure
That one day I would be on top
And I'd look down upon the map
The teachers who said I'd be nothing

The really clever and subversive part of the song’s construction is the framing of one key word: Sunshine. Suggs and Weller transform it from a sarcastic epithet to a majestic blossoming of Small Faces harmonies, heralded by sparkling “Penny Lane” brass. Yes, Headmaster, as a matter of fact I do think think I’m sunshine. I’m pretty great and I’ll do just fine in life with or without your support, thank you sir. The concept works beautifully for me.

With the absence of liner notes for this digital single, full details on the personnel involved are unavailable. What we do know is that the songwriting credits are Graham McPherson and Paul Weller, indicating that this is different from the unfinished Chris Foreman lyric that Suggs reportedly forwarded to Weller for consideration. Weller reports that he recorded the instrumental track at his Black Barn studio, then Suggs came in to lay down the vocals with him. Paul is obviously the far more gifted vocalist, so it’s impressive how well their two voices blend together here, with Suggs given a comfortable range. Weller band members Andy Crofts and Ben Gordelier have both stated that they played on the track, so Steve Cradock and Steve Pilgrim are most likely on there too. I want to know if that’s Jacko Peake doing the reasonably good Thommo facsimile on sax.

As much as I admire it, I can admit “Ooh Do U Fink U R?” is far from perfect. The song could really use another verse to define the schoolteacher antagonist more explicitly before rushing into the bridge. And the pronouns get confusing in the lyrical denouement: “But you never give up / No you never give in / ’Cause you are the one that set me free.” So the person who never gives up is also the one who comes to the rescue? On top of which, “Set me free / Set me free” is an awfully tired refrain to close out a track that’s otherwise rather inventive.  

I’m also disappointed in the goofy spelling of the song’s title with the lazy text message abbreviations. Paul and Suggsy don’t even pronounce “think” with an “F” in the chorus. But the worst part is leaving off the “Sunshine”! That’s the most crucial word in the whole song, fellas. Keeping it in the title would have been enough to distinguish it from the Spice Girls hit, with or without the illiterate inscription.

But in the end, none of that matters. For me this little tune will stand forever as the intersection of two creative pathways that I have tread along for the better part of my life. It’s a precious magical concoction. I know a great many listeners in the Madness and Paul Weller fan communities disagree, and that’s okay. To cite Weller’s own words from “The Modern World” once again, I don’t have to explain myself to you. I don’t give two f**ks about your review.

Thick as Thieves: Madness and Paul Weller’s Solid Bond

On March 24, 2022, Madness performed at the Royal Albert Hall supported by very special guest Paul Weller, as part of a concert series to benefit the Teenage Cancer Trust. Man, what a dream show that would have been for me personally. My two all-time favorite British acts together on one bill, at the magnificent venue where I was lucky enough to see Caro Emerald from the front row in 2017. It’s a lovely thing when your top music heroes happen to be friends who enjoy one another’s company.

There was plenty of fan carping about exorbitant ticket prices for the gig, which was after all a charity fundraiser. But if I’d had the wherewithal to fly back to London at this juncture, I would have gladly emptied my wallet. It doesn’t get much better than Madness and Weller at the Albert Hall.

Weller and his band played the unfamiliar role of opening act, serving up an acoustic set of 10 numbers spanning the whole of his 45-year career. Madness followed with a reported barnburner of a show, as per usual. I was hoping Paul might might join Madness for a rousing Motown classic encore as he’s done on occasion in recent years, but alas, it was not in the cards this time.

So let’s take a look at the longstanding history between the Modfather and the Nutty Boys, who seem to always have been good mates. I can’t find any evidence of The Jam and Madness ever performing on the same bill together, but surely they did at some point, at least on Top of the Pops or somewhere. Please let me know any details about any shared gigs I’m missing. In his memoir Growing Out of It, Lee Thompson relates an anecdote about seeing Jam-era Weller swimming naked at a Hollywood pool party, so the two young bands were running in the same sordid circles in those early days.

One interesting artifact where Madness and The Jam intersected, however indirectly, was the 1981 compilation LP Life in the European Theatre, a fundraiser to benefit the anti-nuclear peace movement. The stellar track list included “Little Boy Soldiers” from The Jam and “Grey Day” from Madness, alongside the likes of The Clash, The Beat, The Specials, Peter Gabriel, Ian Dury, and Echo & The Bunnymen. 

After Weller moved on to The Style Council, he interacted with Madness with more regularity. The two acts teamed up at a number of benefit concerts promoting political causes, including a 1984 Liverpool concert supporting a miners’ strike where Suggs and Paul duetted on Smokey Robinson and the Miracles’ “Shop Around.”

Madness later took part in the controversial 1986 Red Wedge tour, in support of the pro-Labour group organized by Weller, Billy Bragg, Jimmy Somerville and Rhoda Dakar. Chas was apparently the member of Madness most engaged with Red Wedge, and as it happened, he would later be instrumental in signing Weller to the Go! Discs label as a newly solo artist in the early ’90s.

In 2019, Weller guested on Suggs’ BBC Radio 4 series, Love Letters to London. The two discussed their shared fondness for Soho, then joined their voices in a Kinks song, “Nobody’s Fool,” known as the theme song from 1970s TV series Budgie.

Later that year Weller joined Madness at House of Common for another rendition of “Shop Around” along with Martha and the Vandellas’ “Heatwave.” Reportedly, the camaraderie at this gig led to Thommo appearing on Weller’s 2020 album On Sunset with a featured sax solo.

The mad/mod chumminess continued with Weller turning up as a surprise guest vocalist on Madness’s triumphant 2021 streaming event, The Get-Up! Along with Roland Gift, Paul gave a mock audition in Barso’s bedroom to replace Suggs (or were Madness auditioning for him?) with a knockout cover of Jimmy Cliff’s “The Harder They Come.”

In their handful of musical collaborations to date, Madness and Weller have stuck to covers of classics from their mutual influences. As far as I know they’ve never tackled one of their own hits together. Weller has often mentioned his admiration for “Embarrassment,” which actually influenced the sound of The Jam’s “Town Called Malice.” I’m still holding out hope that Paul will cover “Embarrassment” one of these days, preferably live on stage with Madness in front of a raging crowd. Failing that, my runner-up nomination for Weller to sing would have to be “NW5.”

Conversely, Madness is superbly well-suited to take on any number of Weller’s songs. Mark Bedford’s expressive bass style is a lot like Bruce Foxton’s to begin with, and the late-period Jam hits with the horns and keyboards inch into the Madness instrumentation range. Just imagine Bedders and Woody barreling through “Start!”, Bedders and Barso owning “Town Called Malice,” or all members of the band getting a major workout on “Precious.” I can practically hear it.

But something even more enticing than those hypothetical Jam sessions is in the works. For the past couple of years, scuttlebutt regarding a new Weller/Suggs composition has been making the rounds. In a June 2020 “Chris’s Covid Cupboard” Zoom call (which I myself was honored to attend live), Chris Foreman related the following on the topic of songwriting in lockdown: “I actually sent one song that I’d thought up to Suggs because I thought he’d like it, and he forwarded it to Paul Weller, who added some lyrics and it’s sounding really good. So we’ll see what happens with that – I could have a new career writing songs for Paul Weller.”

In a Mojo interview in May 2021, Suggs spoke further on this intriguing collaboration. “I’vе written a song with Paul Weller called ‘Who Do You Think You Are, Sunshine?’ [Whether this is the same song that Chris originated remains to be seen.] You know those people who say they had one teacher who turned their life around? I didn’t. I’m trying to couch that fact, not too negatively, that one makes one’s own path. We haven’t recorded it yet, no. But it’s there.”

Weller confirmed the story in a radio interview around the same time. “We’re still in the process of writing this song together, which is going to be great, but it’s just getting us both together in the studio. So I think we’re going to try and do it this summer anyway, and then whatever happens to it I’ve no idea. And I did that livestream gig, I did a song on that with them a couple of weeks ago at the Palladium as well. But they’re just great fellas, aren’t they? … I’ve always had a soft spot for all of them, for all the fellas in that band, and they’re just great characters.”

Asked about the vibe of the co-written tune, Weller offered, “It’s great. It’s called ‘Who Do You Think You Are, Sunshine?’ so the title alone… [laughs] But the concept, I can’t tell you the concept. But the idea is good anyway, so yeah, we just gotta get in there and finish it.”

On a December 2021 installment of Dan Jennings’ The Paul Weller Fan Podcast, Weller’s tour manager Kenny Wheeler approvingly mentioned a demo recorded by his boss and Suggsy. So progress has continued. Sooner or later we can expect to hear “Who Do You Think You Are, Sunshine?” at last. Will it be a Weller guest spot on the next Madness album? Or a Weller track with vocals by Suggs? Or a Record Store Day single, or part of a fabulous Suggs & Paul Weller originals EP?

Whichever way they may choose, I would give these blokes anything, for just the smile they bring, for just a song to sing, stuck together for all time.

Update: “Ooh Do U Fink U R?” was released as a single by Suggs & Paul Weller about five weeks after this article was published.

B-side Myself with “The Business”

I’ve previously detailed my herculean labors to acquire the albums 7 and The Rise and Fall on imported vinyl, but tracking down the singles and B-sides was another magnitude of difficulty for us American fans. Mail-order catalogues and record shops seldom had anything on offer from Madness aside from the albums. I was only vaguely aware that the B-sides even existed.

I’d seen the occasional discography listing somewhere, peppered with exotic titles like Work, Rest and Play, “Nutty Theme,” “Stepping into Line,” and “That’s the Way to Do It.” No one ever talked about these phantom tracks in magazine interviews. Over here we had no idea what they might sound like. Or how good they were. In the best sour grapes tradition, I figured they must be inferior scraps and rejects, or else they wouldn’t have been B-sides, right?

But the nagging curiosity lingered in my mind. In 1986, when my cousin Regina went on a trip to London, I asked her to bring me back a couple of Madness singles so I could finally hear some B-sides. With the band’s career running down, I must have reasoned it was time to start rounding up the last bits of Madness I would ever get. Regina returned with a whole treasure trove of 12” singles snagged at the Oxford Street HMV.

  • “Wings of a Dove”
    b/w “Behind the Eight Ball” and “One’s Second Thoughtlessness”
  • “The Sun and the Rain”
    b/w “Fireball XL5”
  • “Michael Caine”
    b/w “If You Think There’s Something”
  • “Sweetest Girl”
    b/w “Jennie (A Portrait Of)”

She also brought me Furniture’s “Brilliant Mind,” a Stiff single in the UK charts at the time, because she thought it sounded like something I might like. Eh, it was okay, but almost entirely irrelevant next to real Madness B-sides! What an opulent collection of gemstones Cousin Regina had gathered for me, with the earthy musk of Lee Thompson sprayed all over them. “Fireball XL5” is surely the cult favorite of the bunch, and rightly so. But I was even more partial to “One’s Second Thoughtlessness,” where Thommo’s linguistic somersaults twist the concept of “one second’s thoughtlessness,” punctuated by his ominous gasps and whispers. (I recall gamely trying to convince my goth friends that this song had a vibe kinda like The Cure, circa “The Walk” and “Let’s Go to Bed,” but they weren’t having it.) And “Jennie” is a dazzling little pop nugget that totally should have been included on Mad Not Mad. You can tell Woody cowrote it, because the rhythm owns this song. So much good stuff.

As much as I cherished discovering this sampling of B-sides, you’d think I would have made it my mission to track down every Madness single. But I didn’t. Life got in the way as I left home and went to UNC in 1987. I didn’t own a turntable and it was a big hassle to get friends to copy vinyl records to tape. Besides, after getting my first CD player during freshman year, digital was where it was at. And honestly, I came to regard Madness as the sound of my high school days gone by. I still loved them, but the band was now over and it was time to move on. I was more into fIREHOSE and Screaming Trees, bands that were active and regularly came to play in Chapel Hill. Madness was receding into the nostalgia category, and while you’re a college student you don’t have much need for nostalgia. 

Of course, relics of the good old days do inevitably turn up. One afternoon when I was browsing at Schoolkids Records in my junior year, a zippy tune about getting caught shoplifting struck my ears. I’d never heard it before, but I knew it must be Madness. I went up to the counter to ask what they were playing, and the clerk pointed to a CD with a colorful sleeve: It’s… Madness. A brand-new 1990 Virgin import compilation of eight singles interspersed with eight B-sides “never previously available on CD.”

  1. “House of Fun”
  2. “Don’t Look Back”
  3. “Wings of a Dove”
  4. “The Young and the Old”
  5. “My Girl”
  6. “Stepping into Line”
  7. “Baggy Trousers”
  8. “The Business”
  9. “Embarrassment”
  10. “One’s Second Thoughtlessness”
  11. “Grey Day”
  12. “Memories”
  13. “It Must Be Love”
  14. “Deceives the Eye”
  15. “Driving in My Car”
  16. “Animal Farm”

Man, what a crazy surprise. “One’s Second Thoughtlessness” was the only B-side I already knew, so this purchase scored me seven “new” Madness songs in one fell swoop, all in sweet digital clarity. I have a strong memory of first hearing “Deceives the Eye” in the store followed by “Stepping into Line,” so Schoolkids must have been playing it on shuffle. Those turned out to be my favorite B-sides on the disc, along with “The Young and the Old.” For the collectors out there, my copy is the original pressing that incorrectly lists track 10 as “Behind the Eight Ball.”

It’s… Madness made a huge restorative impact on me. Madness on CD was still hard to come by in 1990, and probably about all I had at that point was One Step Beyond, Absolutely and Utter Madness, and maybe Keep Moving in the wrong order. Listening to It’s… Madness reminded me of how great Madness was, and of their mystery lost tunes I had yet to discover. Undoubtedly the Nutty Boys notched back up in my listening rotation, getting me primed for their incipient reunion.

I got the 1992 Madstock album from a mail order outfit called Worldwide CD, and not long after that I got a catalog from them with a typed listing for a 3-disc box set called The Business: The Definitive Singles Collection. All the B-sides collected on CD. My patience and/or procrastination had finally paid off.

I ordered that sucker and it had to be my biggest mind-blow Madness purchase since my seminal One Step Beyond/Absolutely 2-on-1 cassette. Even though I had acquired a fair number of B-sides before The Business, the sheer volume of unheard, career-spanning Madness corkers put me flat on my ass. The highlights being:

  • “Mistakes”
  • “Nutty Theme”
  • “Don’t Quote Me on That”
  • “Crying Shame”
  • “That’s the Way to Do It (Odd Job Man)”
  • “A Town with No Name”
  • “Never Ask Twice (Airplane)”
  • “Shadow on the House”
  • “Walking with Mr Wheeze”
  • “Guns”
  • “Sarah”
  • “All I Knew”
  • “Inanity Over Christmas”
  • “Please Don’t Go”
  • “Call Me”
  • “Maybe in Another Life”

It’s all eggs, bacon, beans and a friiiiied slice! You’ve got the early genius of the band’s first B-sides, any of which would be right at home on One Step Beyond, if the album wasn’t already transcendently perfect. You’ve got atmospheric, film-credits-worthy instrumentals. You’ve got a take on American gun culture with enough meat to write a whole blog post on. You’ve got thoughtful post-Barson compositions reflecting the band’s restless state of mind, including the “Here’s to everybody” toast reinvented to magical effect in the newly minted “If I Go Mad.”

As much as I dearly loved The Business, this definitive compilation simultaneously made me angry as hell, for two reasons. First, and most significantly, because of the godawful interview clips.

I get it, the producers wanted to add a little something extra for the fans who own all the singles and have friends of the band offer their personal commentary. But jeez Louise, what an ugly disruption. I don’t need to hear ruminations on Mike and Carl both being bullies every time I listen to these precious jewels. Most of the chats are terrible recordings with ear-splitting distortion, and some are even faded into the songs. WTF. Definitely not considerate for those of us without the full library of 45s. A few years later, when I learned how to edit audio files, I trimmed out all the interviews and compiled a 26-track set of just the B-sides, which is the only format in which I ever listen to The Business anymore. The very end of “Please Don’t Go” still has “What is your name?” croaking over the fading notes. As far as I know, there has never been a digital release of this track unsullied. It would be a blessing to see the recent I Do Like to Be B-Side the A-Side Record Store Day LPs arrive on CD.

The other thing the riled me up about The Business was defective discs. My set of CDs came down with some kind of bad disc rot within a year, sprouting spiderwebs of oxidation or delamination across the play surfaces. Playback became choppy and unlistenable. Replacing a costly import box set was no easy feat on my meager retail salary at that time, but of course I did. My second copy of The Business is still in fine shape today.

Of course, these are the quibbliest of quibbles in the Mad scheme of things. The major lesson this American fan learned – over the course of three installments – is that Madness did not put throwaway junk on their B-sides. Sure, there are a few pieces of dross on The Business like fan club flexi-disc ephemera and disc jockey jingles, but those are fun extras (one of which, “Inanity Over Christmas,” is a full-fledged delight). The proper B-sides comprise enough great material for a whole double album, and to me this was the seventh Madness album before Wonderful happened. 

Every track is finely crafted with pride and respect for their record-buying public. Each one is different and creative and utterly worthwhile. Madness has never done the same job twice. Listen to me, take my advice. They double the work for a single’s price. The finished job will sound… real nice.

More of Trull’s Mad Memories