A guest series by Fraser Pettigrew (aka our New Zealand correspondent)

#13: The Style Council – À Paris (1983)
I love Paris. It has a special appeal to me on account of three weeks living with a Parisian family in May 1978 at the age of 14 as part of a school exchange, attending the Lycée Henri-IV, a historic school that counts amongst its former pupils the likes of Jean-Paul Sartre, Michel Foucault, André Gide, Guy de Maupassant, Éric Rohmer, and later on Emmanuel Macron no less.
I say attending, but my school pals and I spent most of the three beautifully warm weeks dossing around Paris on our own, jumping the Metro, munching baguettes, swigging tepid Valstar table beer and choking on filterless Gauloises on street benches like the happiest juvenile vagrants in France. It’s an unimaginable scenario nowadays, that you would allow such freedom to unaccompanied 14-year olds, a measure of what a different world it was then.
May ’78 was, of course, the 10th anniversary of Les Évenements of May ’68. There was a huge Communist Party rally at the Porte de Pantin one weekend at which The Clash were playing, and I was most pissed off at being prevented from going, and being taken instead to the family’s second home in the country where there was nothing to do but get thrashed at tennis by my exchange partner Jean-Yves. Jean-Yves’s pop record collection consisted of The Beatles Live at the Hollywood Bowl and both he and his family probably rated a Clash gig at a communist rally on a par with Satanic child abuse. Jean-Yves and I didn’t stay in touch after the exchange, but he lived on in our family folklore on account of literally clogging our toilet back in Edinburgh with the biggest shit we had ever seen outside of a zoo.
But Paris ’78 was a hugely privileged experience for me, and every time I’ve revisited I’ve felt at home, able to find my way around like a local. The first time I returned was for a damp, graveyard-cold week in January 1983. In the interval between those first two visits my favourite band The Jam had effectively come and gone, dismantled by my hero Paul Weller at the height of their fame.
The Jam were really the first ‘punk’ band that I latched onto when I saw them on Top of the Pops performing In The City and All Around The World in mid-1977. None of my peers at that time had the same enthusiasm for them so they became ‘my’ band in a way, independently chosen. That personal identification was reinforced by the lyrics to songs such as Art School, Away From The Numbers, Life From A Window, Tonight At Noon, and In The Crowd, which struck a chord, so to speak, in my developing teenage mind with their focus on individuality, detached observation and dreamy poetics.
Despite my constant devotion over subsequent years, I wasn’t bereft when Weller split up the band in 1982. It’s not hard to listen to some of those songs above and others besides as a kind of preparation for the inevitable end. “All around the world I’ve been looking for new…” The relationships in I Got By In Time and Thick As Thieves were inconstant, mutable, dissolved, sometimes with regret, sometimes not. The Jam had changed significantly over those years since 1977 and evolution was a given in all the other music I’d been listening to as well. By 1982 everything The Jam released steamed to the top of the charts and Weller could see what an albatross around his neck that had become, whether he changed tack or not.
For all the talk of untethering from the past, The Style Council’s first two singles Speak Like A Child and Money-Go-Round wouldn’t have felt wildly incongruous if they’d been released under The Jam’s name. But the third single Long Hot Summer, as astutely noted in the comments to JC’s 2015 run down of Style Council singles, marked the point where Weller definitively hacked through the hawser connecting the new band with the old.
Mick Talbot’s languid, spongy synth refrain, the delicate electronic percussion and Weller’s falsetto backing to his own soulful lead vocal all perfectly evoke the sensation of living through a heatwave in a seemingly endless summer holiday, loafing around in simmering parks and cooling off on slow-drifting riverbanks. In the accompanying video, Paul and Mick are filmed drifting down the quintessentially English River Cam in Cambridge, the city where I found myself living little more than three years after this single came out. Compared to Edinburgh the East Anglian summers definitely seemed long and hot, and lazing around on those very same riverbanks became another one of the privileged pleasures I was able to enjoy many times during my 22 years there.
The video’s evocation of Brideshead Revisited and the kind of privilege it represented seems an odd association for Paul Weller who has been a vigorous opponent of unearned privilege throughout his career. It’s also not very Parisian for an EP titled The Style Council À Paris with a big picture of Paul and Mick in front of the Eiffel Tower. Teenage drummer Steve White plays bongos in a beret and stripey t-shirt, but it’s a bit more beatnik than Boulevard Saint Germain.
I didn’t see the video at the time I bought the EP so that conundrum came later for me. Nevertheless, the ineffable cool of Paris, confirmed by my earlier experience, gave this EP an immediate five stars for style in my book.
Further Frenchiness comes from the B-side song entitled The Paris Match and the wistful piano instrumental Le Départ, plus the fact that all the tracks were recorded at Le Studio Grande Armée in Paris. The Paris Match was later given a pop-jazz makeover for The Style Council’s first album Café Bleu by guest artists Tracey Thorn and Ben Watt a couple of months before Everything But The Girl’s debut album Eden.
Party Chambers is a new instrumental version of the B-side of TSC’s debut single Speak Like A Child, more Georgie-Fame-stylee than the screaming Dave Formula synth sound that Mick employed on the original.
I swithered about whether to include my two Style Council EPs in this series when I saw that JC had already written about them several times, and noting in particular how Long Hot Summer held a special place in his affections. On that basis, however, I reckon he won’t mind posting it yet again. While it doesn’t hold such a special place in my heart, Paris does, and so did Paul Weller once upon a time, so I concluded it would be churlish, not to say perverse, to exclude it. And it is a great pop song, deservedly The Style Council’s biggest ever hit, released only in EP format in the UK (12” or 7” with edited lead track), peaking at number 3 in August 1983.

























