PET SHOP BOYS – "It's A Sin"

There sometimes appears a pop single of such exceptional quality that even a pluralist listening lifestyle succumbs to its attraction at the exclusion of all else. On the Monday that I bought “It’s A Sin” I played it some thirty or forty times in a row and what must have been hundreds more times in the course of that week. Its audacity, simple melodic genius and encyclopaedic, multidimensional bigness made every other single of the period sound like tentative scrapings of quill against worn slate.

Beginning with a quadruple atomic blast of Fairlights, as though segueing directly out of “Two Tribes,” a NASA countdown is briefly heard (“20 seconds and counting”) before being rudely shut off, leaving a Latin mass choir stranded in the spaceship – the whole introduction is a logical follow-on from “The Sun Always Shines On TV” – before an Almighty clap of thunder heralds the song proper. From contemporary accounts it would seem that Tennant and Lowe went all out to deliver the over-every-possible-top Hi-NRG/New Pop incantations/damnations to end them all.

Although Tennant did not declare himself as openly gay until well into the nineties, the subtext of “It’s A Sin” cannot be avoided – as director Derek Jarman made sure they couldn’t in the glinting scarlets and blacks of the video. Here Tennant casts himself as the Graham Greene of New Pop with his politely hysterical expiation of Catholic guilt, focusing mainly upon his brimstone-and-treacle schooldays, openly homophobic and suspiciously dismissive of independent thought in any manifestation. His little smirk of “they didn’t quite succeed” in the second verse represents a huge triumph, and the surface ruefulness of his “sense of shame” and “everything I long to do/No matter when or where or who” masks a cheerful, ironic demolition of his own oppression. He luxuriates in the “sin” of “it’s a sin” and the unavoidable ascending minor key cadences stand for defiance.

His use and examination of the term “father” in the middle eight is arguably on a par with, and exactly mirrors, Madonna’s exploration of the word “baby” – does he mean his dad, or his headmaster, or God? “Turned over a new leaf” muses Tennant before wickedly winking “then tore right through it” while multiple masses climb and descend the altar behind him. “Whatever you taught me/I didn’t believe it,” he declares, just before Lowe’s synths rev up again and deliver Tennant back into the song, which adopts the classic Hi-NRG formula of half-tempo, floridly melodramatic ballad set against urgent double-tempo dance beats and magnifies it to a level worthy of Brel or Gainsbourg (had either of the latter gentlemen taken much notice of Hi-NRG). It is in its immense way the real “My Way” by virtue of its forsaking “Your Way” or “His Way” or even “The Way” with such decisive massiveness. The song eventually self-destructs, as its multiple strands converge into a blurred coda, incorporating Tennant reciting the Confiteor, which in turn blends into the returning NASA countdown. One final “zero” and one terminal explosion – has sin blown up the world, or is guilt-free orgasm now permissible – end the record, which clocks in at precisely five minutes.

Produced opulently, but not thoughtlessly, by Julian Mendelsohn and Stephen Hague and with a perfect lead vocal performance from Tennant, oscillating flawlessly between guilt, regret, confidence and defiance, “It’s A Sin,” together with its not so distant cousin, New Order’s “True Faith,” a number four hit a couple of months later, proved that New Pop, even at this late stage, was capable of producing art of unsurpassable mischief and profundity. In the meantime, the rest of the British pop world could only look on in astonishment at this example of popular art at its most brilliant and immortal. A ten.

I utterly loved this. I was twelve and it just felt amazing, everything that music could be rolled into one, and the Sin stuff made it seem incredibly naughty as a thrilling bonus. I remember everyone being into it as well, all the adults I knew (maybe less so the kids) – which is lovely, pop’s at its very best when it squeezes the giant communal nerve just so.

Listening now, like a lot of their stuff it seems a little thin and one-dimensional sonically (‘Being Boring’ and ‘King’s Cross’ the honourable exceptions which spring to mind) – but I’ll live with that as placing them in their era rather than their limitations, and even The Beatles can seem dated on an off day. Keeps it just shy of a ten, but for the thrills I’ll give it a solid 9.

Objectively speaking, this is a great, great single, and a “classic” and “important” Number One – but at the same time, I can’t pretend that I fully love it. And perhaps that’s partially down to the circumstances in which I first heard it.

I bought “It’s A Sin” on the day of its release, not yet having heard it. Later that day, I was due to DJ a monthly “alternative” mixed lesbian/gay night at Nottingham’s Garage club – the first regular club night of its kind outside London, as far I am aware, with a strict “no Hi-NRG” policy that was much needed at the time. So I was looking forward to launching “It’s A Sin” upon my crowd. The PSBs were an important act for us – although if truth be told, our primary gay-pop allegiance belonged to the more overtly political – and fully de-closeted – Communards.

However, there was a snag. Maybe the tightly packed production didn’t translate too well to the 7-inch format, but there was something over-stuffed and over-busy about the arrangement, which made it functionally useless for my dancefloor. I played it early on, and it cleared the floor. There was mild interest, but the tune was not yet sufficiently familiar to provoke a stronger reaction. I didn’t pull it out of the box again.

The following month, I played the more spacious Ian Levine remix. The song was at its third week at Number One. The floor duly heaved. But something about that initial disappointment never quite left me.

At the time this turned me off the PSBs quite a bit – a dark shock to the system with its probing despair just far too un-fun for me to want to deal with. With the follow-up and subsequent releases I felt they were instantly back on track so I filed this as a blip for quite some time and it’s never fully recovered in my mind. Experience over-ruling empathy (even if I was on the brink of my own lousy Catholic guilt trip). However strong thematically and sonically It’s A Sin may be, still my least favourite of their #1s.

It’s a nice parallel that on the day this is posted, someone has reopened the thread on Roy Orbison’s “It’s Over”, which another commenter described as “like a grown-up shooing the kids out of the way and showing them how it’s really done”. For perhaps the first time in 1987 – in terms of new songs anyway – we’ve got a serious song on a serious theme (although it’s still witty) and are reminded that pop can be intelligent, thought-provoking and enjoyable. Once again the Pets create a sonic world and style of their very own and invite us along for the ride. Whether you identify with the theme of Catholic guilt or not, it was damned refreshing to have this at the top that summer.

Number 2 Watch – a great song in a not-so-great version, Bruce Willis tackling “Under the Boardwalk”; and blocked by “Star Trekkin’” on its way down, Terence Trent d’Arby’s pretty ace “Wishing Well” at 4. Although looking further down the chart there are a few songs I’m struggling to recall, which would never have been the case a few years previously – clearly I’m starting to drift away.

i remember well JK (and others) saying about Wild World. i checked wikip to see how that went. PSBs sued JK and he settled out of court. cash to charity.

questioning the 8 would be quibbling. I’d rank it as a 9, considered among the #1s, but as a PSB superfan like Tom, I can see where you might knock this down a peg compared to their other work. especially as they’ve already bagged a 9 and have more to come. (look at them up there on the masthead)

Hah! I thought I half remembered the King/Wild World case – they sued him, I think – when watching an Episode of Skins where the cast sing Wild World last week. I still can’t hear it and might have to track down the YouTube version.

‘Bludgeoning’ is right. All sorts of chickens come home to roost for the PSBs here: the thin voice with no flow to it, the simultaneously overdone and underdone production/instrumentation (all the synths sound like they’re on presets), the procrustean rhythm tracks, the substitution of overall lyrical high-concept for writing actual, memorable, interesting, beautiful or witty lyrics (the dull mono-syllables here could make a Gershwin cry), and so on. Tom scored Final Countdown a 7 and Sun Always Shines an 8. I scored those 3 and 2 respectively. I think both of us are being broadly consistent:
4

This didn’t register strongly for me at the time, but when I bought Discography on an impulse in 1991 I loved it, and so much else. 8.

@Paulito, 18. On the contrary, I adore lots of synth-pop (e.g., Propaganda’s Mabuse isn’t a million miles removed from It’s a Sin, and it’s one of my favorite records ever), I just don’t rate the PSB’s that highly (except for a couple of songs), and there’s some broader, ‘late new pop’ thing that IAS and Sun Always Shines typify that I actively dislike. I understand that I’m in a small minority on this front (especially around here), so I sound my little skeptical notes without expecting anyone to agree!

And, look, Gershwin/Porter-style comparisons may be a little unfair, but I *do* suspect that the authors of But Not For Me and Miss Otis Regrets would have found something kind to say about Luka or Don’t Dream it’s Over or Levi Stubb’s Tears or Girlfriend in a Coma or Bye Bye Pride, all of which were in (or nearly in) the charts at roughly this time (not to mention the stuff that I was listening to then that would have been in the charts if merit were truly rewarded).

Its great to see Mike back, by the way. You’ve been missed!

A #9 in the States. A song to admire, a 7 for sure, but like someone said earlier, this isn’t the type of Pet Shop Boys song you go back to and play very often, at least I don’t. But I still admire the damn thing.

It’s a tribute to something-or-other that “It’s a Sin,” as TomLane points out, was a top ten hit in the States. I know MTV played the hell out of the video, and Actually was a succes d’estime, but it’s unfathomable how this, “What Have I Done To Deserve This?” and “Always On My Mind” became huge American hits around some of the ugliest chart fare of the eighties.

swanstep @ 17 / Billy Smart @ 22

There are church organs and church organs, of course, but the big gothic sound is surely the sound of an organ being played without either imagination or subtlety, with all the stops pulled out willy-nilly. (Top-notch free gigs of my youth, by the way: listening to Peter Hurford practicing in St Albans Abbey). Isn’t that the equivalent of using synths on presets?

I can’t help thinking that there are reasons why George and Cole might have admired the Pet Shop Boys. Maybe they would have collaborated had they been around at the same time, who knows?

Meanwhile, through Popular I’ve been catching with the PSB back catalogue because I thought West End Girls was fabulous and was sorry I missed it first time around. I don’t like this as much though – it goes on and on and I really do feel bludgeoned by it.

swanstep @ 30: I wasn’t thinking musically, more of a common us-against-the-machine fellow feeling in the political climate that prevailed.

Was it about this time that the big march against Clause 28 happened? The most fun I ever had on a demonstration. I recall being behind a very accomplished and inventive oompah band. We’re certainly approaching a time when I began to ask some very serious questions about my own sexuality, but more of that anon.

#26 Oddly enough when I first bought Behaviour I was quite disappointed in it, though I’ve since grown to love it. I just wasn’t ready for its grown-up-ness, but also I thought it was a step back from the way Introspective had married complex, adult emotional moods with longer, clubbier tracks and still worked as a compilation of pop smashes. Behaviour was more about the songwriting rather than the track construction and having only just started to appreciate the latter I was hungry for more of it.

@31: i recall going on an anti clause 28 march in summerish 88, but there could have been earlier stuff. odd thing is i don’t recall the trip to london or back – not for any great reason, just not that memorable a day.

behaviour came at EXACTLY the moment i was ready for a ‘grown up’ PSBs album and it was my clear favourite for a very long time as a consequence.

On POTP the other week – a rare, superb episode featuring the charts of March 1988 – I was reminded of a similar coded message of a pop song: “Ship Of Fools” by Erasure.

Interesting that punctum calls this song “the real ‘My Way'” since “My Way” lyricist Paul Anka sings a cover of “It’s a Sin” on his CD of (relatively) contemporary material released a few years ago. It’s actually one of the more convincing renditions on that collection.

What puzzles me is why I can identify with Madonna’s Italian/American catholicism, yet I struggle to find common ground with Neil Tennant’s English catholicism from an Anglican perspective? I’m more agnostic if truth be told these days, but I feel Madonna’s turmoil more through her music and find myself investigating the religious aspect of Madonna, the performer much more. I have no catholic background to align myself, nor do I find the catholic church any more or less attractive than the Church of England. So do I put this down to some kind of blindspot? Or do I (as I suspect) find Tennant’s catholic guilt less convincing within IAS’s lyrical framework. That’s not saying Tennant’s being dishonest or exaggerating his experience of his catholic upbringing, I’m sure he’s laying it all out there, but it feels like a barrier to understanding, rather than an open gate. There’s something arch about it all, that I don’t detect in Madonna’s work. I’m genuinely interested to hear from other commenters here, especially those with a catholic background, to see how they feel about it. I have a fear I may be opening an enormous can of worms, but like I said, I want to understand why some will rave about IAS, and I’m not feeling it. After all, I felt the PSB’s were brilliant at the time and still are.

@rosie, 31. Ah, sorry for missing your point about politics! I suspect that some of Tennant/PSB’s political project might have been congenial to Porter et al.. I should add that my sense of what the PSBs mean or have been up to poitically has been shaped to a large degree by reading (gay,catholic,thatcherite tory) uber-blogger Andrew Sullivan bang on about them over the years. E.g., I definitely think of Being Boring and Sullivan’s original, 1989?, Here Comes the Groom essay – which orthodox lefties at the time heaped scorn on (Angels in America author, Tony Kushner, IIRC, nicknamed Sullivan ‘little Roy Cohn’: charming) – as two sides of the same coin. Many people here, e.g., Mike@36 above, probably have a clearer, more independent view of the PSBs than I do (maybe even than Sullivan does).

Makes perfect sense, Anto. Great post and I totally agree.

Might one important diff. between PSBs and Madonna in their relations to religious themes be just that England (like Australia and NZ) is *much more secular* than the US? The Enlightenment in the US privatizes religion, it doesn’t eliminate it, whereas in the UK et al. the Enlightenment has a strong, default atheist character. [Intriguingly religion isn’t strictly privatized in the UK, but its lingering on in various public institutions just dooms it to twist in the atheist breeze: to be an object of on-going, withering, broadly atheistic derision.]

The upshot (which I think agrees with Lex, 48): Tennant gets to approach Christianity and religion generally as something that’s been revealed to be utter nonsense, so all that’s left for him to deal with is his own personal shadows and hang-ups, etc.. Madonna, by way of contrast, takes all the religious stuff very seriously. She has her doubts about particular religious doctrines and organizations and features of her up-bringing, but like most Americans, remains deeply religious, spiritually questing, and all the rest of it.