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Welcome To The Pleasuredome

by

Frankie Goes To Hollywood

 
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Welcome To The Pleasuredome
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Avg: 4.0 (156 ratings)

The ultimate '80s pop album?

  • We Say...

    Although no one but the ludicrously gung-ho British music press wanted to admit it at the time, Welcome to the Pleasure Dome is in many ways the ultimate '80s pop album. First off, produced by Trevor Horn (the savant of plastic fantastic '80s studio wizardry), it sounds amazing. The detail and epic sweep of the best tracks were, and remain, stunning — like all the best bits of ABC, Duran Duran, Blancmange, Naked Eyes, the Art of Noise and Heaven 17 compressed into one utterly over-the-top package. While the album’s delicious sonic qualities helped usher in baroque Hi-NRG as the new lingua franca of Euro-pop (think Dead or Alive, Rick Astley, Kylie, etc), Pleasure Dome also epitomized another definitively '80s conceit — music as marketing exercise, as pseudo-Situationist prank, as scam. The media/t-shirt campaign designed by journalist Paul Morley that accompanied the album’s release threatened to outshine the music, not least because the album really has only three ideas: two politico-pornographic synth-pop perennials (“Relax” and “Two Tribes”), one tour de force of studiocraft (the title track) and one supremely gloopy ballad (“The Power of Love”). While Pleasure Dome exemplifies the Reagan/Thatcher era notion that music hardly exists outside of its context, fresh ears will be able to hear this album without being tainted by the attendant hype and appreciate Horn’s achievement on its own terms.

  • They Say...

    Strip away all the hype, controversy, and attendant craziness surrounding Frankie -- most of which never reached American shores, though the equally bombastic "Relax" and "Two Tribes" both charted well -- and Welcome to the Pleasuredome holds up as an outrageously over-the-top, bizarre, but fun release. Less well known but worthwhile cuts include by-definition-camp "Krisco Kisses" and "The Only Star in Heaven," while U.K. smash "The Power of Love" is a gloriously insincere but still great hyper-ballad with strings from Anne Dudley. In truth, the album's more a testament to Trevor Horn's production skills than anything else. To help out, he roped in a slew of Ian Dury's backing musicians to provide the music, along with a guest appearance from his fellow Yes veteran Steve Howe on acoustic guitar that probably had prog rock fanatics collapsing in apoplexy. The end result was catchy, consciously modern -- almost to a fault -- arena-level synth rock of the early '80s that holds up just fine today, as much an endlessly listenable product of its times as the Chinn/Chapman string of glam rock hits from the early '70s. Certainly the endless series of pronouncements from a Ronald Reagan impersonator throughout automatically date the album while lending it a giddy extra layer of appeal. Even the series of covers on the album at once make no sense and plenty of it all at once. While Edwin Starr's "War" didn't need redoing, Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run" becomes a ridiculously over-the-top explosion that even outrocks the Boss. As the only member of the band actually doing anything the whole time (Paul Rutherford pipes up on backing vocals here and there), Holly Johnson needs to make a mark and does so with appropriately leering passion. He didn't quite turn out to be the new Freddie Mercury, but he makes a much better claim than most, combining a punk sneer with an ear for hyper-dramatic yelps.

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