Happy 40th to the 3rd volume of the massively popular Now That’s What I Call Music series! Let’s take a look at what was on offer…
It’s the high Summer of 1984. The Olympics are about to dominate telly schedules. Frankie say Relax. And already, in the space of around eight months, the third volume of Now That’s What I Call Music hits the shops.
I remember seeing Now 3 in the shops. The local Tesco where I used to live was so much more than food and drink. It had clothes, toys, and also records. There was a great big central display in the centre of the records department, which, in Summer 1984, was decked out with Now 3 posters, records and tapes. Much as I would have liked to have bought it there and then, there were two obstacles: One, the folks’ record player had seen better days. And two, my pocket money budget didn’t stretch to a lavishly packaged compilation.
It took just under four years to acquire a copy of Now 3 – and for free, if I remember correctly. By 1988, I was a massive fan of the Now series and would scour the pages of Smash Hits for any potential sightings of the next volume. One kid nicknamed Basil, for whatever reason, didn’t want his double cassette of Now 3, and so ended up giving it to me. Cheers, Basil.
Fast forward to today, and Now 3’s popularity remains. The TOTP repeats are still popular. Friday evenings no longer seem to be getting plastered down the pub. Instead, social media is awash with folks staying at home to enjoy a blast of 1980s music nostalgia. 1984 seems to be a popular year, and this collection features many old favourites which pop up on those vintage flashbacks.
In its own way, Now 3 sees a couple of milestones occurring. It’s the first Now to feature the familiar logo with four coloured snooker balls spelling out N-O-W and then the number of the volume – all atop a lightning flash speech bubble that says “That’s What I Call Music”. This was a familiar mainstay of the 1980s, lasting until Now 17 in Spring 1990.
The other milestone is that it’s the last Now before the Hits rivalry. CBS and WEA (later with RCA) decided to pool their resources, and come up with their own compilation series called The Hits Album. From the Winter of 1984, the two sides would regularly go up against each other to see which would end up at Number One in the charts. Christmas is usually the crunch time, and whenever two compilations are released at the same time, battle lines are drawn with the Now stable picking EMI, Virgin, Phonogram and neutral label (eg: Island, A&M, etc) acts only. And in the Hits camp, CBS, WEA and RCA acts are allowed in with neutral label folks, but no groups or singers from the opposite side.
So here we are with many of the big names together all on one album, free from label politics. With that in mind, it’s little wonder that the album raced to Number One – finally deposing Bob Marley’s juggernaut compilation, Legend – and staying at the top for eight weeks. One of the reasons for its success is the canny running order by Ashley Abram, a key player in the franchise. Abram had learned from the first album, which largely placed the biggest hits on the first two sides, and spread the number ones fairly evenly over the four sides of Now 3. There were only four chart toppers to work with in the gap between Nows 2 and 3, and for some odd reason, one of them would end up on Now 4 rather than 3. Apart from Lionel Richie’s Hello, all of the three are present and correct – and each one kicks off Sides One, Two and Four. It’s a good headline grabber, and was a common trick used by Abram.
Side One is on safe ground, with all but one of the eight tracks making the Top 10. Three stalwarts – Duran Duran, Howard Jones and Phil Collins – return for the third Now on the trot. The Reflex was a safe bet to kick off the album, with Collins’ forlorn ballad Against All Odds rounding off the side. Jones’ Pearl In The Shell is a bit less commercial, a nicely quirky pop ditty that still has its own identity. Nik Kershaw – in his second Now appearance – by contrast, serves up one of his most accessible offerings, I Won’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me, which did far better on its re-release than it did the previous year.
Newcomers OMD and Ultravox will return sporadically to the Now fold in the future. While Locomotion and Dancing With Tears In My Eyes are sturdy enough, they do pale in comparison to earlier glories such as Maid Of Orleans and Vienna (which will ironically feature on Now 24). Blancmange make their lone appearance with the delightfully oddball Don’t Tell Me. In fact, the only one that feels out of place is Sister Sledge’s Thinking Of You. That’s only because its glossy 1979 sound is out of kilter with the 80s synthesisers, drum machines and mullets.
At this point in time, Now That’s What I Call Music doesn’t have themed sides as a rule. Later albums of the ’80s will put all of the dancey stuff on one side, heavier rock on another, and so on. But Side Two has a subtly running theme of combat and protest – it’s likely more by accident than design – but you have songs like Two Tribes by Frankie Goes To Hollywood and Love Wars by Womack And Womack. There are raging protest songs: Grandmaster Flash’s White Lines, Special AKA’s Nelson Mandela and Bronski Beat’s Small Town Boy. Plus, you’ve got the call for peace in the form of Bob Marley’s One Love.
The ironic misfit on Side Two is the Style Council. More often than not, Weller and Talbot write bitingly scathing lyrics about the state of the world. Here? It’s a soppy love song called You’re The Best Thing!
Onto Side Three, which houses some of the most enduring ’80s floor fillers and karaoke choices. It’s a mix of established names and newcomers, all of whom come up with tunes that still strike a chord at many an ’80s tour. While Queen’s I Want To Break Free was the latest in a long run of hits, strangely Tina Turner’s What’s Love Got To Do With It was her most significant chart breakthrough at 44 years of age.
Elsewhere, some of the new guard are making their mark. Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time used to blare through from next door’s wall when I was a kid, so that bass line has been imprinted on me ever since. The Bluebells’ Young At Heart is another Now 3 track to turn up on Now 24, when it would reach Number One the second time around in 1993. Before they sounded bored out of their skulls when flatly intoning SAW banalities, Bananarama actually came up with half decent stuff like Robert De Niro’s Waiting, a classic example of a breezy pop song masking something far more sinister in the lyrics. You wouldn’t get that on something like Love In The First Degree.
A welcome aspect of the original Now series is some of the unknown quantities. At the time of compiling, no one knew whether Alison Moyet’s solo career would take off. Love Resurrection had only just been released, so there was no way of knowing that it would be the springboard to a successful future for the former Yazoo singer. Just as welcome is the obscure Propaganda track, Dr Mabuse, an excellent slice of arty electro-pop. Modern-day ’80s compilations tend to be like the Morecambe And Wise Andre Previn sketch is that they feature the same tracks but in a different order. And you wouldn’t get something like Dr Mabuse turn up on there, which is a shame. On any other album, The Flying Pickets’ When You’re Young And In Love would be scoffed out of the room, but don’t forget, they’d had a Number One with the a cappella Only You (which was on Side 2).
Side Four is a funny mix. While it looks like it’s going to follow the pattern of previous sides with popular bands like Wham and The Thompson Twins. It then goes for a more unconventional approach with lesser known stuff, some of which works, some of which doesn’t.
The obvious elephant in the room is the unwelcome presence of Dance Me Up, which was subsequently airbrushed out of existence on the CD reissue. Even without the grisly real-life stuff, Dance Me Up is still a clunky turd that stinks the album out – so its presence isn’t missed at all. Actually, the middle bit of Side 4 is eminently skippable. The hen party shrieking of The Weather Girls’ It’s Raining Men remains a flimsy but supremely tacky bit of throwaway fluff. Ditto the singalong horror of The Art Company’s Susanna, which is the sort of thing you’d get in a naff end of the pier show at Butlin’s or Pontin’s or whatever in’s you can think of.
Luckily, Now 3 gets back on track with the last two offerings. By and large, Madness lost the plot after Complete Madness, but they did come up with the odd flash of freewheeling brilliance – one of which was the bittersweet One Better Day, which tells the story of two homeless folks who end up falling in love. The melancholy arrangement (especially Lee Thompson’s saxophone) is a thing of beauty. Just as good is David Sylvian’s unsung classic Red Guitar, a moody, brooding banger that contains some wonderfully haunting piano work.
Talk about saving some of the best till last. As a whole, Now 3 was well worth the money – if only soon-to-be-10-year-old-me could afford it. A much cheaper alternative to buying 30 singles, Now That’s What I Call Music was now on a roll – even if it did face the imminent obstacle of a compilation rival.
But that’s another story…
(Cover art by John Aldred)
