One Great Cover looks at the greatest cover songs ever, and how they got to be that way.
Some songs are transcendent and seem inevitable. They were always going to be a hit, and destined for greatness. As soon as the opening notes are played, or a motif is reached in a cover, you feel comfortable that you are in the presence of something important. No ornamentation or elaboration is necessary.
“I Want Candy” is not one of those songs. From its very first iteration, writers Bob Feldman, Jerry Goldstein and Richard Gottehrer felt that the song needed something extra to help it along. They cast themselves as The Strangeloves, and implied that they were an Australian Beat Combo, consisting of the Strange Brothers (Niles, Giles and Miles), so that their song about the undoubted appeal of Candy Johnson could have an unusual hook.
Other covers sought other boosting methods. When Aaron Carter made his version he felt that he had to draft in his brother, Nick Carter of the Backstreet Boys, to make it more interesting. In a much different iteration Spice Girl Melanie Chisholm, having successfully curated a girl-next-door persona as Sporty Spice, decided to go “raunchy” in an (unsuccessful) Olivia Newton-John style transformation for her take.
Who might you call if you had to create something that is successful as a triumph of form over substance? If you were thinking of Malcolm McLaren, ex-Sex Pistols manager, you get a prize. McLaren was a man who realized that presentation could trump musical ability or artistry if handled correctly. He proved it multiple times, but “I Want Candy” may be the catchiest proof in his particular rucksack.
McLaren was called in by Adam Ant to help polish the persona and message of him and his Ants. McLaren quickly realized that the erstwhile Stuart Goddard was already too fully formed to need the full McLaren treatment, although he could manage Adam and the Ants. He thought that some of the Ants lacked the level of guile required to stand up to him, and he convinced them to spin off into an outfit he called Bow Wow Wow, which were far more of a blank page.
Phenomenally talented drummer Dave Barbarossa (one of the things that propelled the Ants to ultimate success was their two drummers, which Adam Ant believed was what was required to replace Barbarossa), guitarist Matthew Ashman and bassist Leigh Gorman formed the nascent Bow Wow Wow. They continued to develop their musical skills, but were generally spinning their wheels for some time, hoping that McLaren would have a moment of inspiration to help them to greatness, or at least fame. Meanwhile Adam and the Ants became one of the biggest bands in the ’80s in the UK, using their leader’s vision and skills, with McLaren more in the background.
McLaren discovered what he needed to complete the package in Annabella Lwin. Born in Rangoon as a child of an English mother and a Burmese father, the teenage Lwin had singing skills and a perfect persona for pop. McLaren knew talent when he saw it (although it was sometimes superfluous) and brought her on board to be the frontperson for Bow Wow Wow. He augmented the package with some small things, i.e. not only releasing songs solely on cassette but also praising home-taping, which got some attention, not least from their record label who did not want to condone that sort of behavior.
But that was not enough. What really got them into the news was that McLaren (a product of art school) got them to recreate the impressionist painting Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe for their debut album cover. The reason that this picture was controversial in its original form in 1863, and more so as an album cover in 1981, was that the female subject of the painting/photograph is fully nude, alongside clothed males. Lwin was 14 at the time. The controversy was just what McLaren wanted. What Lwin and her mother wanted may not have been important to him.
Riding the crest of outrage, McLaren doubled down, putting another nude of Lwin on another record sleeve. This time, it was the 45 sleeve on their cover of “I Want Candy.” Again the controversy got the song off to a strong start. But the music itself is also compelling. The percussive drive of Barbarossa is intensely danceable, and Ashman provides a rockabilly overlay that sounds both ’60s and modern.
Lwin is the centerpiece, of course. She has looks, charisma and an upbeat voice. She dominates her more experienced musical colleagues by sheer force of personality. The video was aspirational, young people frolicking on a beach. McLaren, of course, upped the stakes again. He gets Lwin to lasciviously lick an ice-cream, indicating the kind of candy she was craving. She did this as MTV was making its mark. It was a complete package. Hit song, experienced musicians, an insanely talented lead, and a load of publicity. This package turned “I Want Candy” into one of the most recognizable hits of the ’80s. Even today, when the more controversial reasons for its ubiquity are forgotten by some, the skittering guitar, exuberant vocals, and the Burundiddley beat still ring true.
Those who live by the McLaren can also die by the McLaren. Having gained a boatload of publicity by hiring Lwin, and publicizing her talents in a specific way, he found a new way to generate publicity for Bow Wow Wow. He fired her. Lwin was ejected from the band before she reached 18 years old. She discovered her fate by reading a publicity release in a music paper.
Too capable and talented to disappear, Lwin has continued in the industry. However the best-known phase of her career remains that with Bow Wow Wow. She has, of course, had to battle to be heard. She does not own the name Bow Wow Wow, and so other people tour under that name, but you can’t imagine that those attending the ersatz events would be satisfied. Recent YouTube content confirms that she remains a potent force.
For more about the original Strangeloves version of “I Want Candy,” read our earlier post here.
Great version Thanks