PHYLLIS NELSON – "Move Closer"

MOVE CLOSER HUMAN.

Previously a would-be Philly Sound star who never quite made it – she was one-third of the female group Brown Sugar – and in Hi-NRG quarters best known for such records as “Don’t Stop The Train” and “I Like You,” “Move Closer” represented perhaps the only opportunity Phyllis Nelson ever got to sing the music she wanted and loved most deeply. Astonishingly, despite over 32 years of the UK singles chart, “Move Closer” was the first self-penned number one by a black female artist. It was one of its year’s biggest last-dance smoochers, but despite a certain similarity in production and arrangement techniques – etiolated, slow-arching Euroballadry with, again, more than a hint of the slower Art of Noise in its framework – “Move Closer” seems to stretch back to something far deeper. If we are to agree with Dave Godin that the essence of Deep Soul is in the grain of the singer’s voice, then there are moments in Nelson’s love – for instance, her graceful skating across the “sweetest voice sayin’ my pretty lady” section, or her varied approaches to the sundry “ooh”s – which connect her directly to the tradition of Irma Thomas and Bessie Banks.

Perhaps “Move Closer” moves a little too smoothly to be a true modern soul classic, and Nelson’s arpeggios don’t cut quite so loosely on the same agonising restraint/adrenalin boundary which Minnie Riperton vaulted so effortlessly. But the opening speech of “Hey baby, you go your way, and I’ll go mine – but in the meantime…” suggests a cloistered, illicit affair, the only slightly less dark end of the street, and the clenched fist of throat raging under Nelson’s polite control is now and then very palpable. Like Riperton, Nelson was fated to succumb to breast cancer at too young an age, and after “Move Closer” she never found the same level of freedom in her work. While her eldest son will make an appearance on Popular several years hence, we relish the elegance with which Nelson grasped and sustained her one lovely moment.

How am I the first to mention the deodorant advert?

It felt like an indie soul production – lush and dark, no question, but take out the reverb and its pretty Casiotone – and from memory was on a tuppeny ha’penny label which would explain the basic two-colour sleeve. So Move Closer’s success is all down to Phyllis’s intimate, adult vocal, which is soulful and as close as we’d get to the cooing hurt of Irma Thomas (or Barbara Lewis) in the clattery mid eighties. Anita Baker always seemed more jazz, a little neo-Cleo Laine.

Didn’t this take an eternity to get to number one, longer than Dead Or Alive? Don’t have the stats to hand, dammit.

Tom, you’re right, that extended “move…..” is absolutely what makes it, and over rides the cheesy ad usage since. 7 from me.

Despite the annoying fump-click-boom period production, I really really like this, and the slightly sanctified sense of intimacy and yearning that I find within it.

(A parallel 1985 hit might be Amii Stewart’s astonishing soft electro ‘Friends’, though that’s become more painful to listen to since I started – through a mishearing – to imagine that it was being sung by a woman who’s only going to get a one-night stand with the love of her life.)

Obviously, I didn’t like this when I was 12, unironic songs about “making love” sung by ordinary-looking grown-ups being slightly scary and intimidating.

This song is used in a very funny scene in the Comic Strip film ‘The Supergrass’ when its being played in a Village Hall disco to an appreciative floor of smooching teenagers, and is then taken off for the appearance of a local heavy metal duo, to everyone else’s displeasure.

I’d give this a 9 easy though I am still surprised it got to #1. What I loved was how restrained and slooooow it was and stays that way throughout, it never reaches a climax (so to speak) and is all about anticipation which makes it very hot – and perfect for a slow dance with some young lady when you had a similar anticipation in mind.

Love the minimal production too, it has the airy space of a Delfonics record.

Tom Jones covered this at some point iirc. Nein danke.

A non-charter in the U.S., not even on our R&B charts. In fact, this song has never charted in any version on our charts. A good song, let’s say this is one we missed. Sometimes these things happen. And btw- I like the Tom Jones version.

I only knew this from those snippets in UK adverts, so was intrigued to hear the whole thing; it starts off a little too ’80s smooth, but soon becomes something pretty special, thanks to Nelson’s delivery and the underlying song. I can think of a lot worse one hit wonders to be remembered for. On first impressions I’ll give it 7, but I’m tempted to go to 8, just because it feels so much warmer than other ’80s diva tracks that come to mind. (Perhaps because of that jumper.)

hmm. i really, really hated this at the time. apart from a, mercifully short-lived, indie absolutist phase it’s pretty rare for me not to think pretty much everything is at least all right, even when i can’t work up any enthusiasm or know that something is objectively not much good. even when terribly concerned about whether the frank and walters were better than cud, i spent a lot more time pretending to hate things than i did actually hating them. so, while i can’t believe i ever liked ‘we are the world’ even a little bit, this is the first no.1 we’ve got to that i have a clear memory of absolutely loathing. as others have said, i think it was a lot to do with feeling uncomfortable with having a kind of ordinary grown up spending a long time telling you that they, you know, *do it*. i remember a vaguely mortifying car journey with an older cousin driving me somewhere in her car while signing along to this on the radio.

and now? i’ve certainly mellowed a bit, helped no doubt by the fact that you practically never hear it, but i’m still not sure i approve of this sort of thing. 80s soul/r&b in general is still a patch where i tread very gingerly and i’m afraid phyllis is not doing much to change my mind.

This was the most hyped record ever. In the book Last Shop Standing (Whatever Happened To Record Shops) it tells how this record cheated it’s away into the charts.One shop in Scotland was given over 200 copies free copies as thousands of free copies were given to record shops.
It was a pity as I am sure it would have been a hit anyway.The real loser was Phylis Nelson as the book points out that Phylis Nelson would have the cost of giving all the records away deducted from her royalties.
Ben

TOTPWatch: Phyllis Nelson performed ‘Move Closer’ on Top Of The Pops on three occasions;

4 April 1985. Also in the studio that week were; Glenn Frey, The CoolNotes and David Grant & Jaki Graham. Simon Bates and Richard Skinner were the hosts.

18 April 1985. Also in the studio that week were; Dead Or Alive, Howard Jones and China Crisis. Mike Smith and Peter Powell were the hosts.

2 May 1985. Also in the studio that week were; Eurythmics, Chris Rea and New Model Army. Mike Smith and Richard Skinner were the hosts.

Just noticed that this song was one of (Sir) Michael Caine’s desert island discs recently. Exploring a little further, Caine curated this chill out mix disc (great cover image!) a few years back, and, sure enough, Move Closer was its last track.

Not all of Caine’s choices inspired. He picked _The Fountainhead_ for his reading matter. (I think I feel a screenplay – an Aguirre-like Caine on a desert island reads Rand to himself while My Way blares, haw haw! – or at least a skit, coming on).

I had a slow dance to this at a New Year’s Eve party with a girl who had once snogged Steve Bould, the Arsenal centre-back. I’m still not sure if I like it more or less because of those associations.

Luke Chadwick should have been prime Half Man Half Biscuit fodder, should he not?