Who remembers the album, ‘Tune In To The Trudy Love-Play’?
This is a welcome break from the ultra-serious, ultimately bland heavy sentiment hawked by bands that don’t look like they have a deep thought in their heavily marketed heads. If this stunning pop sound annoys you, then you have no joy in you - none at all, and THE TRUDY had you sussed out all along.
Opening on a spaced out and throwaway pulse, the mashed out guitars underline catchy lyrics with one eye directed at the no nothing, can’t-dance assholes plying their cardboard trade all over the western world. Let yourselves go, fergawdsake!
‘OH!’ lifts you off your feet and pummels you with a ‘perfect’ production designed to move your hips as well as your feet. It is successful beyond my wildest dreams.
Still laminated in it’s original sleeve, in a picture-disc state of suspended animation from the 80’s, it overcomes all else as it reaches out and touches you, alive enough to make you realise that you’re dead.
“It’s got to be better than Ohhhhhh/ I’ve got to let you go”
Perfectly illustrating the 7”single’s last great days in the sun, hinting at the early ‘carry-on’ aspect of the promotional video, this harks back to a time when people (almost ALL of us), went out and bought records, putting their money where our mouths were. This would have been number one then, it would have cleared the shelves, but been knocked off pole position by Smokey Robinson after seven weeks, like ‘Stand and Deliver’.
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THE TRUDY should be on children’s TV, promoting this, and shelving their grumbles about being up at the crack of dawn on Saturday. It is infectious, dreamy and irresistible, which is all I want sometimes – something that you can sing along to, dance to. This is straight off Xmas ‘Top Of The Pops’ and for that alone I love it.
I also love it because it sounds and feels like a design to get up the noses of those who get too serious about ‘their’ music - bands and fans alike. “Up yours”, it says. The controversy alone makes it worthy of its own phone-in poll, and the fashion-gods badly need the piss taking out of them. I sense that the Juke-Box Jury may well have slung it out, but doesn’t that give this ‘Playmate Escort’ heavy hitter far more weight? Of course it does!
This record made me hug myself, and feel glad to be alive for over four minutes. For that, I give it a breathless, unconditional thumbs-up, together with my silliest involuntary grin!
www.thetrudy.co.uk
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