Sock Free Hideaway

BEATS OF LOVE

72. San Francisco Night (Instrumental) by Chris

WAS WALKING to work the other day and unfathomably the synth line to Chris de Burgh’s Lady in Red came into my head and then I pictured my mother and father dancing together in sync to it. 

I say unfathomably coz if my mother was still alive, and I asked her about whether she ever danced to it she'd scrunch her face up and reply 'don't be absurd.' I can only imagine that I was bunking off school a lot at the time of its release and it got lots of telly play so unwittingly found a way deep into my subconscious. 

I grew up on a steady diet of chart music, eventually hitting a rebellious phase where I rejected pop entirely, until Luvdup started weaving transcendent moments into their sets. Digging for these unexpected crowd-pleasers soon became the norm, with the likes of Moonboots and Balearic Mike the most renowned exponents. Sean Rowley famously branded it as Guilty Pleasures, but the pinnacle of this trend belonged to Jim, who created the ultimate moment the night he dropped Peter Gabriel’s Sledgehammer.

Inspired, I set out to engineer my own iconic pop moment using Lady in Red. My logic was simple: a song couldn't occupy that much real estate in my subconscious if it was entirely devoid of merit. The standard seven-inch version was out of the question; after all, Steve Coogan’s Alan Partridge wasn't entirely wrong when he famously dubbed it the anthem of "stupid people dancing at weddings."

Since there were no official dubs, instrumentals, or extended remixes to salvage it, I turned to the world of cover versions. The Shadows showed promise but were ultimately too guitar-heavy, as were the flamenco interpretations. Lovers Rock and reggae versions offered a slight shift in vibe but still drowned in the original's saccharine sweetness. James Last offered the best of a bad bunch of up-tempo orchestral covers, but it still fell flat. By the time I waded through dreary panpipe renditions, I finally threw in the towel and accepted the brutal truth: the song is just irredeemably bad.

I’m sure the moment I publish this, someone will magically unearth some elusive Mediterranean dub mix to prove me wrong. Until then, this Chris will more than do.

Pure heat and a longtime want finally reissued by the ever dependable Edition Hawara label. Austria's finest tastefully lose the confederate flag from the original sleeve whilst pressing it loud and clear. I prefer this instrumental with its gloriously spangled synth lines that appear looser and really shine through on what is the finest winter warmer at hand. 

Hopefully next week when I walk to work these loose synth lines will come into my head. Giving me some much needed spring in my step.