The Pretenders followed up their memorable debut with their imaginatively titled follow-up called Pretenders II on this day 43 years ago. Let’s check it out, track by track!
The Adulteress
The title sounds like a member of a new cult of cheating super-anti-heroes. The antithesis to the Fantastic Four, The Adulteress is joined by The Love Rat, The Debaucher and The Gigolo in their mission to wreck as many relationships as is humanly possible.
Instead, Chrissie Hynde takes her place in the confession booth as she intones a string of self-deprecating witticisms about her affair with Kinks frontman Ray Davies. Lines like “Look at the fool/Made up to go out” hint at an element of self-loathing, despite there not being an actual apology in the lyrics.
The lyrics are well-matched by the grungy wall of sound backdrop. Martin Chambers is in danger of bashing a hole in the snare drum with the sheer power of the beat. It’s one of the heaviest tracks that The Pretenders laid down – although it does at one point clash with the lyrics about the female protagonist meeting her fella to feed crumbs to the birds in the park. For some reason, I’m picturing Wendy Craig’s Ria meeting up with Bruce Montague’s creepy stalker character Leonard in Butterflies rather than two rock legends.
Bad Boys Get Spanked
I’m wondering what the producer of late ’70s/early ’80s kids’ Saturday morning show The Saturday Banana was on when selecting The Pretenders to play Bad Boys Get Spanked. I bet Mary Whitehouse spat out her Cornflakes in horror when tuning in.
This fast and furious rocker is a more on-the-nose update of Tattooed Love Boys, both in the lyrics and the repeated whip cracks – not to mention Hynde’s last piercing scream and moans of pleasure. There’s no arguing with the energy and pace of the instrumentation though – it may have the rhythm of a Benny Hill soundtrack with extra clashing guitars thrown in for good measure, but this continues the album on a strong note.
Message Of Love
Pretenders II follows the same pattern as the band’s debut, in that singles were released well in advance of the album’s premiere. Stop Your Sobbing hit the record shops around a year ahead of its parent album, with the next single Kid released later in the Summer of 1979, but still six months before Pretenders was available.
Likewise, Message Of Love was released six months ahead of Pretenders II, although previous single Talk Of The Town beat previous records by being released about a year and five months before!
The big mystery surrounding Message Of Love is why it didn’t perform better in the charts. It sure deserved to, with its instantly catchy new wave perkiness. Message Of Love sums up everything that’s great about The Pretenders. Awesome guitar work, pounding drums, hooks galore and the unmistakeable purr of Hynde. The lyrics manage to stay on the right side of sappy, but in these rotten times, Message’s message is more potent than ever: “Now the reason we’re here/Every man and woman/Is to love each other/Stand by each other.”
I Go To Sleep
There was no end of riches to choose from when it came to releasing singles from Pretenders II. The choice of I Go To Sleep in late 1981 was a canny move, given that it has that Wintry feel that makes listeners want to snuggle up by the fireplace.
Ray Davies continues to make his presence felt, as he wrote the thing in the first place, attracting cover versions from the likes of Peggy Lee. For most though, this remains the definitive version, complete with its sorrowful French horn popping up at regular intervals. It proved to be a big hit with shivering record buyers, who took the single to Number Seven in the charts.
Birds Of Paradise
Continuing to slow the pace a little, Birds Of Paradise is an unusually gentle number. Remembering a past love in her dreams, Chrissie’s singing is straight from the heart – and it’s a track that many can latch onto. It doesn’t have to be a lover. It could be a friend or family member long gone – it’s bound to strike a chord.
Waltz-like in its rhythm, this may not instantly grab your attention on first spin, but it’s a definite grower, becoming one of the highlights of the album.
Talk Of The Town
The first taster of Pretenders II was released hot on the heels of Brass In Pocket which had reached pole position at the beginning of 1980. Apparently, management were to blame for the notable gap between the release of this single and Pretenders II. Management wanted new material, and they got it, even if it wasn’t enough to fill one side of an album, let alone two.
As a stopgap though, Talk Of The Town serves its purpose. Another relatively leisurely number, this one is said to have been inspired by a nameless fan who would loiter around the soundchecks on the band’s first tour.
Pack It Up
Subtle it ain’t, but Pack It Up’s amusingly furious lyrics are the ultimate two finger salute to all “scumbags around the world”.
Said scumbags continue to exist in 2024 (they’re everywhere in the media), so despite the “home video centre” reference which probably seemed state-of-the-art in 1981, the lyrics haven’t dated. Hynde’s three-minute rant pulls no punches, with a neat line in blackly sardonic humour (“I see your dog shot/Well never mind/That’s showbiz big boy/You’ve got to be cruel to be kind”).
Pack It Up needs the right kind of brash accompaniment for such a statement, and Chambers, Pete Farndon and James Honeyman-Scott deliver in spades. After three tracks of chill-out, it’s back to The Pretenders at their most compellingly heavy.
Waste Not Want Not
When I used to do mini reviews on Twitter (I refuse to call it X, despite sad old Space Karen’s insistence) about albums in my collection, I would list a top three of my favourite tracks. In the case of Pretenders II, Waste Not Want Not would most likely baffle many fans as it’s one of those overlooked cuts.
I stick by it though. After taking pot shots at saddo Alpha males, Waste Not Want Not now has corporate greed in its sights. While the lyrics are no less venomous (“In a blood bath, don’t laugh/Grab your piece of golden calf”), Waste changes tactics by sliding into a quietly sinister reggae-tinged groove. This is a great, atmospheric neglected gem – my favourite bit is the psychedelic middle bit and fade out in which Hynde repeats “Waste not, want not, pick it up” over an ethereal wash of vocal overdubs from the band.
Day After Day
Tough life, this rock star malarkey. While some may picture champagne lifestyles, stacks of money in the bank and swanky limousines, the endless touring is so gruelling, Oliver Twist would turn his nose up.
This was another single release, although by comparison, it didn’t do anywhere near as well as the other three singles. Oddly, the single version of Day After Day fades out, while the album version suddenly erupts in a crescendo of guitar feedback and noise.
The cliché of the rock lifestyle is summed up in Day After Day, which tells of the endless drudge in “Hotel, hotel, hotel”. Sadly, for The Pretenders, the lifestyle would take its toll. After Pete Farndon’s firing in 1982, shortly afterwards, James Honeyman-Scott died of a cocaine-induced heart attack. The following year, Farndon accidentally drowned in his bathtub after a heroin overdose.
Jealous Dogs
A return to the subtle-as-an-anvil-dropping-on-your-head lyrics, but I love the tune of Jealous Dogs. The distinctive guitar sound of The Pretenders remains a big draw, and the jangly combination of Hynde’s unusual rhythm chord choices and Honeyman-Scott’s blistering lead is at its best here.
Which completes my Top 3 for this album!
The English Roses
For me, the weak link on an album that otherwise remains my favourite of The Pretenders’ back catalogue. Far from the band being in full bloom, The English Roses is a bunch of £1.49 garage flowers wilting in the sun.
The penultimate track lethargically plods along with a bit of bongo bashing thrown in in an attempt to wake the band up. For some weird reason, it fades out with alarmingly high-pitched squawking noises, which detracts even more from any potential appeal.
Louie Louie
The fellas continue to sound like their trousers were a bit too tight during recording sessions in the middle break of the otherwise sound Louie Louie. It’s the only blight on an enjoyably retro throwback to the ’60s. It’s not a cover of The Kingsmen’s 1963 hit, but I’d say this original composition is better.
Throwing everything it can at the finale (brass, organ, pounding drums, etc), Louie Louie signs off the Pretenders’ second album in style. It was the end of an era as Learning To Crawl would see the band return, down but by means out, with a new line-up to replace Honeyman-Scott and Farndon. But if you’re looking for a bit of The Pretenders in their prime, their second album is guaranteed to satisfy.
(Cover photography credited to Gavin Cochrane)
