English Beat – She’s Going

To me, this album is synonymous with summer, parties, drinking and dancing, and every time I hear it, I am transported back to June 1983. 

This was also my introduction to ska. I suppose I knew songs like “One Step Beyond” by Madness, or “A Message to You Rudy” by the Specials, both of which might be more true to that genre, but I’ll tell you what the English Beat had that they didn’t, Saxa.

So often a saxophone in popular music is going to just be so cheesy that you roll your eyes. My mind immediately goes to Glenn Frey’s “You Belong to the City” and other Miami Vice-esque songs. But the way Saxa played the saxophone was the element that made these songs soar. Sure, Dave Wakeling’s voice was swoony, and he was easy on the eyes, but the saxophone set these songs apart. I offer as evidence that General Public (which is Dave Wakeling and Ranking Roger, the two front men of the Beat) was a shadow of the Beat’s greatness. I don’t mean they were bad, I liked them, bought the album, and I even saw them in concert.

It was spring of my senior year of high school and I think there were six of us crammed into a two-door car, driving up to the University of Maine at Orono. That was pretty far away, close to 2 hours, so I had lots of time to talk with the friend whose lap I had to sit on because there was no other way for us all to fit. I feel like this story is better if you know this friend was a dude with long curly hair and a mustache and very much looked like a metal fan. We both agreed General Public were good, and we were excited to see them, but both hoping they’d play some English Beat songs even if it was a shame that Saxa wouldn’t be there. To our great surprise and delight, about 2/3 of the way into the show, they strike up an English Beat song and then, walking on stage comes Saxa to lend his signature sound to the song. We both looked at each other and shouted, “Saxa!!!”

I would also like to take this opportunity to point out that R.E.M. opened for the English Beat in 1983 and there’s a picture of Peter Buck wearing an English Beat T-shirt while hanging out with Paul Westerberg. Of course I knew the English Beat before I knew anything about R.E.M.

The English Beat – Save it For Later

On June 1, 1983, my mother started her new job up in Maine, leaving my oldest sister, who had just graduated from college, in charge of the house and the rest of us kids who were not done with school yet. New York schools ended in late June since there was a week of final exams followed by a week of Regents exams. I don’t remember where my second oldest sister and my brother were, but my little sister was finishing up sixth grade, the last in elementary school, and I was in 10th grade, my other sister was in 11th.

Needless to say, with my mom hundreds of miles away and busy in her new job, our house in New York became party central. My oldest sister had spent her junior year abroad in London and came home with lots of music she’d heard while over there. She made a tape called “Mom Goes to Maine” which featured many of those bands and served as a frequent soundtrack for those last weeks of school. She also had the album Special Beat Service by the English Beat in heavy rotation.

My sister invited this guy she had met in London to come and stay for two or three weeks. Lindsay, this drop-dead gorgeous British guy, tall, curly hair, swoony accent, was just there living it up with us. He wasn’t even my sister’s boyfriend so all of our friends were super eager to come over and hang out. With classes over, they would tell their parents they were coming to our house to study.

I suppose we did do some studying but we did it while sunbathing in the backyard, gin and tonics in hand and music playing out of the window in the den. By night the sunbathing gave way to games of badminton or croquet with the flood light on, music still blaring out the window, gin and tonics still flowing. If it rained, we were inside playing Trivial Pursuit, making Lindsay read the questions so we could listen to his accent. I’m sure it drove our neighbors crazy, but those were fabulous days for not quite 16-year-old me.

So tonight, 40 years later, I went to see the English Beat. It is basically just Dave Wakeling with a backing band at this point, but I was on my feet dancing the whole time. The crowd was all middle-aged people, some gray and bald heads, most of us wider than our younger selves. But if I closed my eyes, I could picture our friends in the backyard, Lindsay looking like he walked out of a movie with a drink in one hand and croquet mallet in the other. Ah, youth.