Rent

Undoubtedly one of the most controversial songs ever written by the Boys. Commonly viewed as a narrative by a "rent boy" (British slang for a male prostitute), Neil has directly denied this interpretation, stating that he wrote the lyrics from a female viewpoint. (Indeed, Liza Minnelli later covered this song on her Results album.) Then again, in his essay "Queen Theory: Notes on the Pet Shop Boys" (published in the 2002 critical anthology Rock Over the Edge), British scholar and critic Ian Balfour claims that an early, unreleased version contained such pointed allusions to Elton John's alleged and refuted dealings with rent boys that our heroes felt the need to rewrite the lyrics to avoid legal difficulties. (Good thing, too—Elton won his libel case against one of the tabloids that relentlessly hawked such rumors.) And in an April 2007 interview on the British TV program Hardtalk Extra, Neil conceded that he and Chris quite enjoyed being "provocative" with the title, which, as he put it, "obviously came from the phrase 'rent boy.'" So the ambiguity was consciously "built in" from the very start.

Whatever the case, the lyrics focus on the narrator's mixed feelings about being "kept" by the person with whom s/he is in love. Alternatingly mercenary and tender, the song invites the listener to share these mixed feelings, blurring the moral lines between sexual and financial arrangements. Released as the third single from Actually and a major hit in Britain and elsewhere, "Rent" wasn't even offered as a single in the U.S., probably because the Boys and/or their record company realized how misunderstood it would be.

One site visitor, incidentally, has offered an extremely novel take on the song, interpreting it from the perspective of Chris and Neil directly addressing their record-buying listeners. After all, they have good reason to love us since, at least in a manner of speaking, we do pay their rent. Personally, I don't at all think that's what this song is about—there are too many lyrical references that don't fit the scenario—but you can't deny the basic appeal of the concept. (single: UK #8)

Hit Music

Perhaps somewhat cryptically, Neil has noted that this number is about "what happens when you take the sex out of the disco." Another one of the Boys' early songs that seem superficial and trivial upon first hearing yet subsequently reveals deeper, richer layers of meaning, it's a frequently overlooked part of the PSB repertoire, despite the fact that Neil says it was among the first lyrics that he wrote in response to the AIDS epidemic. In retrospect, this fact becomes perfectly clear with such lines as these:

It's all about love and it's about forgetting
Choose a song when the night's too long
We all need love and we want protection

In short, we can take some solace in "hit music," which helps us get through the "long night." Note the punning reference to "protection," which became and remains a byword—not to mention a survival tactic—in the wake of AIDS.

It Couldn't Happen Here (Lowe/Morricone/Tennant)

Although he borrowed the title (more or less) from author Sinclair Lewis's 1935 novel It Can't Happen Here, which concerned a prospective fascist takeover of the U.S., Neil's somber ruminations here are somewhat less political and deal not with the U.S. but the U.K. As he himself has pointed out, "It Couldn't Happen Here" grew out of a conversation he recalled having several years earlier with a friend, during which they expressed their belief that the AIDS epidemic, which was beginning to attract attention on account of its rapid spread among the gay population in the States, wouldn't have much of an impact in Britain. As it turned out, that same friend later contracted the disease himself, inspiring Neil to write the song, in which he sadly describes how wrong they had been.

The music was written in collaboration with Italian film composer Ennio Morricone in preparation for a project that evolved into It Couldn't Happen Here, the Boys' fascinating but largely unsuccessful film venture. At the official PSB website, Neil described the composition of the song like this: "Morriconne's manager gave us a tape of an unfinished song and told us we could do what we liked with it. Around the chorus melody by Morricone, we wrote verse and intro music and I wrote the words. We never met him."

It's a Sin

While appearing as a guest on the long-running British radio program Desert Island Discs in February 2007—more than two decades after the Boys wrote this song—Neil described it as having been inspired by his years in a Catholic school: "[It] always seemed to be taught that everything was a sin. Everything you wanted to do was a sin. And so I put that in a song."

If there's such a thing as an "accusational confessional," this is it. Neil confesses his many sins (or at least his many temptations to submit to them), but in his defense accuses the Church and/or God of making sins out of too many things. "Everything I long to do, no matter when or where or who … it's a sin!" Famous for its over-the-top epic production (complete with a non sequitur sampled NASA countdown just because it sounded so good), this, the first single from Actually, proved to be one of the Boys' all-time biggest hits. Its video, which became an MTV staple at the time, bore memorable images of Neil before the Inquisition (held captive by Chris in the role of his jailer) and personifications of the Seven Deadly Sins (Pride, Anger, Envy, Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, and Greed).

The song attracted attention on a number of other counts as well. Some religious leaders actually praised it for raising and seriously discussing the subject of sin, rarely noted in popular culture. Meanwhile, British singer, songwriter, and producer Jonathan King, best known for his 1965 hit "Everyone's Gone to the Moon," publicly and repeatedly accused the Pet Shop Boys of stealing the melody from Cat Stevens's "Wild World." Neil and Chris sued him and won their case, thus prohibiting him from continuing to repeat his aspersions. They donated their monetary award in the case to charity.

Neil, incidentally, is what is often quaintly referred to as a "lapsed Catholic." The text that he mumbles, almost unintelligibly, beneath the music at the very end comes from the Latin mass: "Confiteor Deo omnipotenti vobis fratres, quia peccavi nimis cogitatione, verbo, opere, et omissione, mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa," which can be translated as "I confess to almighty God, and to you my brothers, that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word, act, and omission, through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault."

By the way, Neil has said that it took only 15 minutes to write this, one of their biggest hits. Such is the mystery of art and inspiration. (single: UK #1, US #9, US Dance #3)

I Want to Wake Up

The torture of being in love with someone who doesn't love you back. "You're in love with he, she's in love with me, but you know as well as I do I can never think of anyone but you." Tormented by unrequited love, the narrator feels as though he's living a nightmare from which he desperately wants to wake up. That's pretty much the gist of it—although at the end of the song, in an extremely clever lyrical twist, Neil notes that the only possible way to wake up from this terrible dream is to "wake up with you."

Later this track would resurface in a version remixed by their friend Johnny Marr, formerly of The Smiths, as one of the bonus tracks on the "Can You Forgive Her?" CD single.

Heart

Neil and Chris were aiming for a seventies-style "mega-disco sound" with this track (dig those synth-drums!), and many would say they succeeded admirably. They also developed it with Madonna in mind and considered submitting it to her, but then changed their minds. (They themselves have suggested that they lacked the nerve to do so.) One can definitely imagine Madonna doing this; it's very much in her late '80s style, which itself often harkened back to the heyday of disco.

Thematically, this song is simply a confession, "quite sweet and sincere" according to Neil, of how deeply in love the narrator is—his "heart starts missing a beat" every time he sees the object of his affections. Neil has also described it as "a very warm song," and Chris has noted that it's "not ironic at all."

To promote the single (the fourth and final one released from Actually), the Pet Shop Boys starred in what is perhaps their most cinematic short-form video, featuring Ian McKellan as a rather creepy vampire closely modeled on Dracula. The plot of the video is very loosely based on the 1926 silent film classic Nosferatu, itself based on Dracula. Neil appears as a wealthy groom arriving at his castle with his new bride—who, contrary to rumor and occasional report, is not portrayed by the eighties hit singer Tiffany, though the resemblence is striking; the actress's name is Daniella Coli. Chris functions as Neil's chauffeur/valet, playing a rather ambiguous role in the plot. The vampire seduces Neil's young bride and absconds with her, leaving Neil, as he has put it, "bitter and twisted"—an excellent example of that genre of elaborate videos that have only a tenuous connection to the song itself.

As it turned out, "Heart" hit #1 in the U.K., but never even reached the U.S. singles chart. (single: UK #1)

King's Cross

King's Cross is the busiest underground railway station in London, if not in all of Britain. It's apparently a common "gay pickup" spot as well as a notorious hangout of prostitutes, with many of the nearby hotels offering rooms "by the hour." Despite the fact that the PSB song that takes its name from this station is a mere "album cut," it has proved a favorite among fans, perhaps acknowledged by Chris and Neil in that they have performed it live on various occasions.

A rather ominous-sounding track, it took on an even greater sense of foreboding—in the most literal sense of that word—in late 1987 when King's Cross became the site of an underground fire in which 31 people died. Neil sang about seeing "dead and wounded on either side, you know it's only a matter of time," leading some fans to believe that the song was written in response to this disaster. Yet the Actually album, including this song, was released before this terrible event. To add to the general eerieness of it all, the scene during which this song plays in the Boys' film It Couldn't Happen Here features a man dressed in a suit, carrying a briefcase—and on fire.

Setting aside the possibility that our musical heroes may be clairvoyant, just what is this song about? The opening image, of a man who feels "the smack of firm government" waiting in a long line, backed by a cheap flyposter (or, as Americans might refer to it, a "posted flyer"), suggests general social decay and dissatisfaction. The lyrics seem to offer social commentary on the conditions in and around this crowded railway station—although Neil tosses in a more personal observation when he notes, almost in passing, that he (that is, his persona) "went looking out today for the one who got away." It has been suggested elsewhere that these images and feelings may be based on those that Neil himself observed and felt when he left home and moved to London as a very young man. Taken altogether, perhaps King's Cross serves as a "double metaphor" for sociopolitical conditions in Britain at the time as well as for the confusion and disorder in the narrator's own troubled mind.

One of my site visitors has suggested that AIDS may also play a role in this narrative, which could explain the air of narrative guilt that seems to permeate it. Is the narrator expressing "survivor guilt" because he has had "good luck … waiting in a line," whereas others no less deserving have had "bad luck"? Neil has said elsewhere that much of the pessimism of their songs from this period comes from the fact that friends of theirs had died or were dying of AIDS. Such an interpretation offers another intriguing angle from which to view this rich, powerful song.

Further Listening 1987-1988
(bonus disc with the 2001 reissue of Actually)

Entries for most of the b-sides of the Actually-era singles can be found under Alternative, although "I Want a Dog" can be found just ahead under Introspective, as can the single "Always on My Mind."

Introspective (1988)

Neil has suggested that the Introspective album was their "kiss of death" in terms of massive popularity in the United States. The fact that it consisted solely of lengthy dance remixes despite American consumers' expectation that it would have included the familiar "single versions" of the two U.S. hits it featured, "Always on My Mind" and "Domino Dancing," may have alienated many. And the "Domino Dancing" video itself (as noted below) probably also had something to do with it. Nevertheless this album remains very much a fan and critics' favorite. The title refers to the album's blatantly introspective lyrics, which provide a dramatic and perhaps ironic counterpoint to the highly danceable, "extroverted" music. As for the cover design, its multi-colored "rainbow" stripes are suggestive of the "Gay Pride" flag, but this was probably not intentional; for one thing, the colors don't match up with those of the "official" flag. As it turns out, the pattern was designer Mark Farrow's idea, simply based on a page in a book of "testcards" with adjacent stripes of complementary colors. The Boys have commented on the irony, however, that the album that in the long run has proven to be their biggest seller doesn't have their picture on the cover. (album: UK #2, US #34)

Left to My Own Devices

So much is going on here that it's hard to know where to begin. For one thing, it's tempting to think that something very campy is going on in this recitation of everyday events given an epic, orchestra-on-the-dancefloor treatment. Are the Pet Shop Boys implying that everyday life is epic in and of itself? On another front, one critic has described this song as indicative of the "desperation of the gay lifestyle," or some such rot. (Well, there may be a modicum of truth to it. Gay commentator Andrew Sullivan refers to it in this song as a form of "detachment" common among gay people.) One might even combine the aforementioned concepts and suggest that Neil and Chris are providing a camped-up parody of the epic self-referentialism to which certain gay men are inclined.

There's no denying the element of autobiography implicit in this song. For instance, Neil has admitted that he indeed played "Roundhead general" as a boy—the Roundheads having been the Parliamentary army struggling against the forces of King Charles I in the English Civil War (the Pet Shop Boys are ever the anti-monarchists). Neil's mother was reportedly rather upset when she first heard it (particularly by the lines beginning "I was a lonely boy…."), disheartened to think that he may have had a sad, troubled childhood. Another autobiographical aspect lies in the fact that, according to Neil, his "friend who's a party animal" is none other than well-known British music journalist/pop culture commentator Jon Savage. As for the famous couplet, perhaps the most famous and oft-quoted in the entire PSB corpus—

But in the back of my head I heard distant feet
Che Guevara and Debussy to a disco beat

—though inspired by the interests of the track's co-producer, Trevor Horn, it's perhaps as good an encapsulation of the Boys' typical musical style (revolutionary sensibilities set to a danceable, romantic, yet occasionally discordant setting) as anything else they themselves have stated so succinctly. And then there's the chorus, with its blasé, hesitant, but strangely affecting confession of love: "I could love you if I tried—and I could. And left to my own devices, I probably would." (Some for whom English isn't their native language have wondered about the meaning of the title phrase. To be "left to one's own devices" is a common idiomatic expression meaning to be forced to rely upon oneself, particularly upon one's own plans and abilities.)

At any rate, we're probably best off throwing up our hands and admitting that "Left to My Own Devices" is about a lot of different things, and just leave it at that. (single: UK #4, US #84, US Dance #8)

I Want a Dog

This track, the 7" version of which first appeared as the flip side of the "Rent" single, was inspired by the Boys' friend Peter Andreas, who mentioned at one point wanting a dog—but just a chihuahua since he had only a small apartment. Neil thought this was a delightful notion, so he wrote the lyrics that Chris set to music. In addition to expressing their fondness for dogs, this song also professes the Boys' mutual dislike of cats, which they've referred to on more than one occasion. The version that appears on Introspective is dramatically remixed and expanded, though the shorter, simpler original version reappeared later in the Alternative collection.

I've always found this an extremely lonely song, sung from the perspective of a narrator who considers the possibility of relying on a pet to keep him company more feasible—and perhaps more appealing—than relying on another human being. But, to be sure, this song invites a variety of other interpretations. For one thing, some critics have suggested a possible tribute to or lyrical parody of Iggy Pop's notorious "I Wanna Be Your Dog." Taking this idea even further, there are those who read into it S&M/B&D implications. Speaking solely for myself, I simply don't want to go there.

Domino Dancing

Neil says that the title of this song was inspired during a stay on the Caribbean island of St. Lucia. "In the evening there was nothing to do except play dominoes; this friend of ours [their personal assistant and Chris's roommate, the late Pete Andreas] always used to beat us, and he used to do this celebratory dance." Despite this prosaic origin, "domino dancing" became Neil's metaphor for what was going on in the early days of the AIDS crisis: carefree young people dancing (probably a euphemism for sex; at the very least dancing is, as has been observed, "a vertical expression of a horizontal idea") and subsequently collapsing in succession from illness like rows of dominos.

Neil and Chris had traveled to Miami to work with Exposé producer Lewis Martineé, whose work they admired, and this track, with its strong Latino influence, was the result. It was almost certainly through Martineé that the Latin dance group The Voice in Fashion—who had worked with the producer and who signed with the Boys' label, EMI, in 1988—ended up providing the "all day, all day" backing vocals for this song.

Continuing with the Latino theme, the accompanying video is set in Puerto Rico—at director Eric Watson's suggestion—and became notorious for its thinly veiled homoeroticism, despite a heterosexual veneer. (The final scenes of two shirtless young men—even more obviously posited as "sex objects" than the lovely young woman who served as the ostensible object of their competing desires—tussling among the crashing waves on a beach were frequently cited as evidence by critics.) Since "Domino Dancing" proved to be the Pet Shop Boys' final Top 40 hit in the United States, it has been widely speculated that this video may have had something to do with their declining U.S. popularity thereafter. (single: UK #7, US #18, US Dance #5)

I'm Not Scared

In 1987, Neil and Chris wrote and produced "I'm Not Scared" for Patsy Kensit and her band Eighth Wonder, basing it on an instrumental they had written two years earlier with Chris's punning title "A Roma." The resulting track proved a sizeable hit, especially on the Continent. The following year the Boys recorded their own extended and significantly harder-edged version for the Introspective album. The lyrics are somewhat cryptic, but they could well be about (or at least set against the backdrop of) the 1968 Paris student riots, samples of sounds from which are included in the PSB track. (The fact that the b-side of the Patsy Kensit version is a French-language version of the same song lends additional credence to this interpretation.)

On the other hand, it's quite possible that Neil is only using the Paris riots as a metaphor for a troubled relationship and/or the narrator's distressed mindset. The lyrics take the form of an accusatory monologue by one party in this relationship ("If I was you, I wouldn't treat me the way you do"), who's trying to bolster his own confidence in the face of many difficulties ("I'm not scared, baby—I'll go anywhere"). Despite it all, however, he asserts his continued interest in the person to whom he's speaking, expressing his wistful desire to read his or her mind. And no, he's "not scared" of what he might learn there. So, at least from that perspective, the song remains hopeful.

One of my site visitors has also suggested that the lyrics might concern the Pet Shop Boys' feelings about the pop press at the time, which sometimes offered unwelcome speculation about their personal lives. It's an interesting interpretation, and well worth considering. If that's the case, this song could be heard as a statement of defiance: "I'd go anywhere, baby—I don't care." And could that be Neil speaking as a former pop journalist when he sings, "If I was you, I wouldn't treat me the way you do"?

By the way, those who are willing to delve into such things may also be interested in the surprising grammatical controversy that surrounds one of the lines in this song.

Always on My Mind/In My House   (Thompson/James/Christopher - Tennant/Lowe)

The Pet Shop Boys, then in the full flush of their early popularity, were among a number of artists who were invited onto a 1987 British TV show commemorating the tenth anniversary of Elvis Presley's death. Each artist was asked to perform a rendition of a song made famous by "The King." Not particular fans of Elvis, the Boys were initially cool to the idea, but ultimately decided in favor of it. They chose to perform "Always on My Mind," one of Presley's latter-day successes. One of the reasons they picked it was because, as Chris has put it, the song was from Elvis's "bloated Vegas period," which Chris professes to prefer to his fifties "rockabilly" heyday. Although Neil and Chris considered it a one-off, public reaction was overwhelmingly positive. The fans essentially demanded it as a single. So our heroes obliged—their very first cover song.

Critics quickly commented on the almost mechanical, icy-cold performance, which transformed what had previously sounded tender (as in Willie Nelson's hit version from a few years before) into something that seemed rather callous, at least to many ears. One writer even described it as "singularly mean-spirited." In fact, when you pay close attention to the lyrics, it really comes across as a somewhat nasty song. In essence, the narrator is saying, "Yeah, I know I've been a rotten pig who treats you like dirt, but you should be pleased that at least I think about you a lot." One site visitor has noted that the last line sung by Neil in the Introspective version is "Maybe I didn't love you…," suggesting a final realization by the narrator that he has indeed never really loved the person to whom he's singing, despite his efforts to convince himself otherwise. Perhaps this song even expresses his sense of guilt over this fact—an interesting and quite tenable hypothesis.

Whatever the case, it was a brilliant rendition of the song and proved to be one of the Boys' all-time biggest hits. The extended Introspective mix melded it into a brief PSB original titled "In My House," punning on the pronounced influence of house music on the track. (single: UK #1, US #4, US Dance #8)

It's Alright (Void/Brightledge/Jefferson; additional lyrics by Tennant)

The classic house-music track "It's Alright" was originally performed by one of its co-writers, Sterling Void. Neil and Chris heard it, loved it, and decided to cover it. A powerful song about the immortality of music, its vision is on nothing less than a cosmic scale. Music is sustained "on a timeless wavelength," whereby it asserts and helps to maintain human hope and dignity in the face of overwhelming obstacles. Neil provided (uncredited) some additional lyrics with a strongly ecological bent:

Forests falling at a desperate pace
The earth is dying and desert taking its place
People under pressure on the brink of starvation

The album version is dominated by a simple, repetitive piano motif, but Trevor Horn's single remix replaces the piano with a more elaborate synth line. An interesting sidenote emerges from certain extended remixes, which feature even more additional lyrics from Neil, including a reference to "a statesman standing at a crossroads." Although there's been some speculation that this may be a reference to Romania's former dictator Nicolae Ceaucescu, Neil has stated that he was actually referring to Mikhail Gorbachev and the hopeful changes taking place in the Soviet Union (and the world in general) at that time. As for the video, with its dozens of babies representing hopes for humanity's future, it remains one of the most idiosyncratic that they—or, for that matter, any other pop/rock artist—have ever done. (single: UK #5)

Further Listening 1988-1989
(bonus disc with the 2001 reissue of Introspective)

The following songs—originally recorded by Dusty Springfield and Liza Minnelli, respectively—have appeared in the Boys' own renditions only on the Introspective reissue's "Further Listening" bonus disc. Entries for the various b-sides of the singles taken from Introspective can be found under Alternative.

Nothing Has Been Proved

This track, recorded and originally released by Dusty Springfield on her album Reputation, was written by Neil and Chris for the film Scandal, which concerned the notorious Profumo Affair. This imbroglio, which rocked the British government in 1963 ("'Please Please Me's number one…"), involved several cabinet ministers who had enjoyed relationships with a pair of prostitutes qua "models" who were also fooling around with a Soviet naval attache with connections to the Russian spy ring. There were also some indiscreet photographs taken of nude goings-on next to the swimming pool of a stately mansion. Court proceedings and a suicide followed in its wake.

At any rate, the events as described in the song, though necessarily abbreviated and vague, are essentially accurate. By the same token, the people described in the song, such as Stephen Ward, are equally real, though Neil cites them by first name only. The thrust of the song is that, indeed, nothing—at least nothing that indicated actual treachery by the cabinet members involved—had been proved. Just sexual indiscretion. Yet it was enough to cause an uproar in the press, to rattle the government, and to cause one of the central figures in the affair to kill himself. This, of course, is Neil's implicit condemnation of the prurient, puritanical impulses that cause such terrible things to happen over what should be personal, private and, in fact, nonconsequential matters.

The PSB demo of this track was released with the 2001 reissue of Introspective. Neil seems to struggle somewhat with his vocal, almost certainly because the melody was written with Dusty's range in mind rather than his own. The instrumental track on the demo also differs from that of Dusty's version in some subtle but intriguing ways.

A fascinating footnote is the fact that, in his book The Complete Dusty Springfield, author Paul Howes says that Neil—ever the historian, having long been intrigued by the Profumo Affair—wrote the original version of this song, with pretty much the same lyrics but a different melody, before he even met Chris. It was resurrected for Dusty and Scandal, with Neil and Chris collaborating on a new melody. (Dusty's single: UK #16)

So Sorry, I Said

Originally released by Liza Minnelli on her PSB-produced album Results. Drawing from Liza's theatrical background, Neil and Chris took much of their musical inspiration for this song from Broadway composer Stephen Sondheim. Thematically, it addresses the fact that sometimes it's much easier to stay in a relationship, no matter how faulty and troubled it is, than to go through all the difficulty of leaving it. So the narrator compares her circumstances to those of living in a ghetto or a prison—trapped, but at least trapped in it with someone else, and therefore (and most importantly!) not alone. Whenever problems arise, it's easier simply to apologize ("So sorry, I said") and continue on as before. The last line of the final verse, in which the narrator implicitly compares herself and her partner to snakes ("I couldn't leave you; think of the skins I'd have to shed"), is nothing less than brilliant.

The Boys' demo of this song, released with the 2001 reissue of Introspective, isn't substantially different from Liza's version aside from Neil's vocal. (Liza's single: UK #62)

All songs were written by Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe unless otherwise noted.