The disappearance of the seven single is more than a disappointment for music fans, writes Fred de Vries. Bands find it more difficult to make it and the taste of listeners is growing increasingly conservative
DOES anyone still remember the good old single? That seven-inch slab of vinyl, preferably packed in an arty picture sleeve? Singles were affordable little jewels that could contain the ultimate track from your favourite band which would never appear on any of their albums.
The single did so much for the Sixties, with The Beatles, The Kinks, The Who, Rolling Stones and Beach Boys releasing one gem after the other. And in the late Seventies small vinyl went through a revival with the arrival of punk. The Sex Pistols, The Jam, The Clash and all the others were essentially singles bands. The Pistols’ God Save the Queen with its unobtainable B-side and picture sleeve that shows the British Queen with a safety pin through her lip, is now a priceless collectors item. The same goes for very early U2 seven-inch releases like Eleven O’clock Tick Tock. The single gave bands and independent record companies scope to experiment and release without making any losses.
But then, with the arrival of the CD the small vinyl wonder virtually disappeared, with just the 12-inch DJ format surviving. No one now rushes to the shop anymore to get some limited edition blue vinyl of their favourite band. And subsequently the last bit of real fun has gone out of pop.
So we are stuck with a 5 FM hitparade that is not based on sales figures but on artificial playlists of “plug tracks” and the preferences of certain influential individuals. Bands find it harder and harder to break because the affordable single is no longer there to do some groundwork for them. And the public’s buying taste is getting increasingly conservative because only expensive CD’s are available.
Fortunately there’s serious industry talk of re-introducing the single here, albeit in the CD format. The only other alternative for those who love one particular song is the compilation. “The compilation has become the only way to market a single track,” confirms Karl Anderson of RPM records, which has released almost 40 compilations in the last three years.
Most of what appears on this perpetual waterfall of “Various Artists” collections is throwaway dance stuff. Eurodance Hits ’94, for example, contains all those booming bubblegum hits you hear on the radio the whole day. But the kids love it, and invariably these CDs go gold with sales of over 25 000. They have, in fact, meant the survival for RPM. “It has been our lifeblood,” smirks Anderson. “It has enabled us to take up small groups and translate them into good sales.”
But with other record companies also smelling the selling power of compilations, the market has been flooded with inferior dance trash. As a consequence RPM has just launched its own dance label. “We only want to release quality stuff, and we hope people will associate the logo with quality, so we can build a reputation, just like some of the dance labels have done overseas,” said Anderson.
But the term “quality” should be taken with a pinch of salt, since RPM concentrates on Euro-dance and largely ignores the real exciting developments in this dance section.
The other area where compilations fill the singles gap is in the alternative area. Once again it’s RPM that is leading the way, largely thanks to their access to the American Slash and British Beggars Banquet catalogues. So far RPM have released two Barney Simon compilations of “modern rock”, which are not bad but rather predictable and contain many of the songs Simon plays on his Powerhouse show. The first one focused on old songs by The Clash, James and Psychedelic Firs, while the new one has a more contemporary feel to it, featuring the likes of Bjork, Grant Lee Buffalo and even our own Outsiders.
Far more interesting, however, is the Alternative Nation compilation, which comes complete with bits of information on the various bands and introduces fine but largely unknown artists like Supreme Love Gods, Swell and Robert Foster.
Said Anderson: “Most of that is only available on import. We’ve released this to give the South African public a taste of Beggars Banquet at a reasonable price.”
Alternative Nation is worth listening to. Best of the tracks are the beatnik poetry guitar pop of Blue Aeroplanes and the Dutch outfit Betty Serveert whose Palomine is the sound of wet raincoats and grey lovelorn afternoons translated into heart rendering pop.
But hidden between other tracks it comes nowhere near the magic of a picture sleeved crackling vinyl version.