Other Miscellaneous Pet Shop Boys Tracks

Pet Shop Boys (Orlando/Tennant/Lowe)  (not to be confused with "Theme for the Pet Shop Boys")

Surely the most mysterious track in the entire PSB catalog. The b-sides for the early "Bobby O era" single versions of "West End Girls" and "One More Chance" were various permutations of a track titled "Pet Shop Boys"—a mainly instrumental, hip-hoppish number that features barking dogs, howling coyotes, and other zoological sounds as well as repetitive "vocoderized" vocals that are largely unintelligible aside from the words "Pet Shop Boys." The composers are listed as "Orlando/Tennant/Lowe," Orlando of course being Bobby O himself.

To muddy the waters further, there's another, completely different Bobby O-produced track titled "Theme for the Pet Shop Boys," highly derivative of "West End Girls" and characterized by repeated shouts of "Pet Shop Boys" by male voices that obviously aren't Neil's and/or Chris's. Tellingly, the composers of this "Theme" are cited as "Elvine/Tess," both of which (Elvine and Tess) are known pseudonyms of the German producer Manfred Alois Segieth, who is also associated with the Pet Shop Boys via his "Hurricane Mix" of "One More Chance." As it turns out, Neil and Chris themselves had little or nothing to do with this "Theme," which was actually performed by a group called the Hurricanes—one of Segieth's projects.

On the other hand, the Boys clearly lay claim to "Pet Shop Boys" (not the "Theme") in the Nightlife tour program, where it's included along with all of the other songs that had been written or performed by PSB up to that point. There Chris only says of it, rather cryptically, "The musical possibilities of animal noises." As Neil has put it, it was "just us playing around on the Emulator," an early sampler. Neil has also described how, after he and Chris had returned to Britain from recording with Bobby O in New York City, he played for his colleagues at Smash Hits some of their fruits of their labors: "The track everyone liked best was 'Pet Shop Boys' because it was weird." Neil has also pointed out that it doesn't appear on Alternative because he and Chris don't own the rights to it. (Apparently Bobby O does.) So it's safe to say that "Pet Shop Boys" is indeed part of the "true PSB canon," so to speak, whereas "Theme for the Pet Shop Boys" isn't.

Chris and Neil asked their friend Richard Niles to arrange and conduct a fully orchestrated pastiche of various songs of theirs for use as the opening music to their remarkable 1991 stage show, "Performance." This he did, and the resulting overture appears as a bonus track on certain versions of the "DJ Culture" and "Was It Worth It?" singles. The songs whose melodies make up this overture are "It's a Sin," "Being Boring," "Opportunities," "So Hard," "Jealousy," "Suburbia," "How Can You Expect to Be Taken Seriously?," "What Have I Done to Deserve This?," and, of course, "West End Girls."

It Doesn't Often Snow at Christmas

(special fan-club bonus)

Every year the Pet Shop Boys send a Christmas card to the members of their official fan club. For the 1997 holiday season, instead of a card they sent a gift: a CD featuring a brand-new, otherwise unavailable song. In "It Doesn't Often Snow at Christmas," Neil expresses his tremendous disillusionment over the commercialized spending spree that Christmas has become, symbolized by the fact that—at least in most of Britain—Christmas usually isn't marked by snow. An instrumental version of the song also appears on this "audio Christmas card."

This song remained a much sought-after PSB rarity—largely unavailable outside of unauthorized duplications and online auctions where it could fetch princely sums—until November 2005, when it made an appearance on the limited-edition charity CD Elton John's Christmas Party, a collection of seasonal favorites chosen by Sir Elton himself. But considering the "limited" nature of that release (distributed only through Starbucks and a very few other select outlets) it may nevertheless remain a comparatively obscure item in the Boys' catalog.

(from the Twentieth-Century Blues benefit album; also a bonus track on the "You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You're Drunk" CD single.)

Neil is very much a fan of Noël Coward (the Boys having previously covered his "If Love Were All"), so it's not surprising that he should become the guiding force and producer of a charity album project consisting of various artists' interpretations of Coward songs. The resulting album, Twentieth-Century Blues, benefited AIDS research and relief. The Pet Shop Boys provided a recording of "Sail Away," a mellow rumination on middle age in which the narrator ponders the notion of "sailing away." This can be read both literally and metaphorically: a literal desire to retire to a pleasanter place as well as a metaphorical anticipation of decline and death as part of the natural process. Somber stuff, to be sure, but appropriate in its context.

(bonus track on the "You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You're Drunk" CD single)

Except for the multi-tracked "Postscript," this is the only occasion in the PSB corpus in which Chris actually sings (rather than speaks) a lyric in a voice that hasn't been electronically distorted somehow. Once again Chris demonstrates his mastery of upbeat, techno-oriented Europop; he creates vast sonic landscapes made for dancing. As for the lyrics, he (or his narrator) is majorly pissed at somebody for being deceitful. But rather than wallow in self-pity, he strikes a defiant pose, a la "I Will Survive." In so many words, he says, "If you think you're gonna get away with this, think again and take a walk." Though Neil certainly has no worries about being replaced as a lead vocalist, "Lies" proves a tremendous all-around triumph for the quieter half of the Pet Shop Boys.

(bonus track on the "I Get Along" CD single)

Boasting one of the most intriguing titles in the PSB corpus, this midtempo outtake from the Release sessions began life, according to Neil, "as an acoustic-y thing," but it later grew more elaborate. It was seriously considered for the album, but didn't make the final cut. With regard to its subject matter, Neil has confirmed that this song concerns Elvis Presley—hence the references to "downtown Memphis, Tennessee" (Elvis was that city's most famous resident). It's a documented fact that Presley was reading Frank O. Adams's 1972 book about the Shroud of Turin, A Scientific Search for the Face of Jesus, when he unceremoniously dropped dead while sitting on his toilet at Graceland. This song might be alluding to the contemporary quasi-religion of "Presleyism" (aka "Elvisianty").

Working at additional levels, it seems in many ways a companion piece to "Birthday Boy." As in that Release track, the lyrics suggest that Jesus, a martyred exemplar of faith and love, continues to suffer in the modern world in the form of those who are hurt, abused, and abandoned. Amidst all the suffering, people are searching for meaning and guidance on how they should live their lives: "Looking for the light we need." Could it be that at least certain aspects of Neil's Catholic upbringing are resurfacing after years of apparent neglect? As he sings in one of the most chilling lines he has ever written, Jesus's face is "painted in the blood we bleed." The song's arrangement is also quite remarkable, especially the instrumental bridge with its slightly (and delightfully) cheesy accordion and/or harmonium (or, more likely, synth/sampler replication).

(bonus track on the "I Get Along" CD single)

Recorded during the Release sessions and very nearly part of that album, this vaguely "tropical" number was deleted during the final determination of the tracklist. The lyrics revolve around an extended metaphor for a failed love affair, described in nautical terms. The narrator and his erstwhile lover—at one point referred to as the "crew" and the "captain," respectively—charted a course between the two islands of the title: the "Island of Lovers" and the "Island of Whores." According to Neil (as reported in the April 2003 issue of the Boys' fan-club magazine Literally), these aren't merely a metamorphical fantasy; they're the names, when translated, of two actual islands off the coast of Estonia. The fact that there's "a very treacherous passage between them" inspired this song. At any rate, torn asunder by conflicting gravities—the comfort of monogamy versus the excitement of promiscuity—the relationship of the narrator and his partner eventually disintegrated. (After all, isn't that what relationships generally do in Pet Shop Boys songs? ) But our hero still has hopes of reviving it, looking to his former lover to rescue him from the shipwreck that his life has become.

In expressing this sentiment, Chris and Neil interpolate a snippet of the Marvin Gaye classic "I Want You" (hence the additional credit for the writers of that song, Leon Ware and Arthur Ross), as Neil sings, "I want you, and I want you to want me, too." While the song's elaborate metaphorical conceit may strike many as a bit strained and perhaps even too "cute," Neil's lyrical persona never descends into bathos. Meanwhile, a delightfully upbeat melody and a charming, largely acoustic arrangement are standouts, making this track a welcome addition to the Boys' latter-day repertoire.

(bonus track on the "Miracles" single)

This song was originally written and recorded by the New York-based one-man band Howard Rigberg, aka Howard Robot, aka My Robot Friend—a professed fan who has noted that it was inspired by hearing a certain pre-set sound on one of his keyboards that reminded him of early Pet Shop Boys records. With a stylistic nod to those first PSB tracks, My Robot Friend wove a sad, wistful tale of lost love in which the narrator thinks back to a time in the mid-eighties when he would apparently imagine himself and his former lover as the Pet Shop Boys:

I know what you will say before you start
In my heart we're the Pet Shop Boys

A couple of familiar song titles—"Suburbia," "It's a Sin"—pop up in the main body of the lyrics. It was something of a cliché in the early days of the Pet Shop Boys' fame for writers to comment on their "melancholy." This song dives headlong into that melancholia, the narrator tormenting himself with nostalgic musings on happier times that somehow seem perhaps not as happy as he remembers them.

But as fascinating as all this is, even more fascinating is the fact that Chris and Neil chose to cover and release this homage themselves, recording the basic track in Berlin with Chris Zippel. The press release for the "Miracles" single (for which "We're the Pet Shop Boys" serves as a bonus track) includes Neil's explanation for this surprising decision: "It sums us up."

An especially nice touch comes late in the song. Although in the original version My Robot Friend did a passable imitation of Neil in a faux "Brit rap" composed exclusively of even more PSB song titles—which together actually manage to comprise something of a shorthand narrative sequence—Chris takes over most of this portion of the vocal in the Boys' rendition. Not surprisingly, his voice is heavily distorted using a vocoder or some similar device. Neil chimes in, however, with "What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this."

It has recently come to light that the key synth motif that opens the track is identical to one appearing online in a Yamaha synthesizer demo mp3. So far I don't know anything more about this remarkable fact—whether, for instance, the original was composed by Howard Robot so that he and the Boys are simply "re-appropriating" his own creation; whether it was a sample used with permission; or whether (heaven forbid) the Boys have, probably unintentionally, done a bad deed. I'll provide any updated information here as soon as I learn more.

Interestingly, Robbie Williams covers this song on his 2006 album Rudebox with Neil and Chris serving as producers and performing along with him—both of them providing support vocals! Equally interesting is the fact that when the Boys performed it on various dates of their Fundamental tour, Neil would sometimes sing the chorus in the language of the "host country." So it became, for instance, "Wir sind die Pet Shop Boys" in Germany and "Nous sommes les Pet Shop Boys" in France.

(bonus track on the "Miracles" single)

A "very electro" song (also described by the Boys as "Kraftwerkesque") recorded during the Release sessions. At one time they were considering releasing a dance album to go along with Release, in much the way that Relentless had accompanied Very, but they finally decided against it. In light of these facts, it's not surprising that it bears the hallmarks of a classic "Chris track": heavily dance-oriented, somewhat minimalist (though displaying a few unusual musical flourishes), with relatively sparse, simple lyrics.

In those lyrics (two quatrains, each repeated)—which are sung by Neil, though the voice is so profoundly distorted with a vocoder or some such device that it took his confirmation of the fact to remove any doubt about it—the narrator expresses his desire to be "transparent" so that his lover could "see right through" and know everything there is to know about him. Notably, he doesn't profess to having nothing to hide, but instead admits, "Don't have much to hide." But even those few secrets he seems willing to expose. Despite the "techno" arrangement and the sparseness of the lyrics, the Boys manage to convey (as previously in "Liberation") a remarkable mood of "willing vulnerability," of opening oneself up to both the joys and dangers of love.

(bonus track on the "Flamboyant" single)

Rock and roll! Originally recorded during the Release sessions (and, like so many of the songs on that album, with Johnny Marr on guitar), this has been described by Neil as a "Sixties-ish sounding song" inspired by watching the Strokes perform at the famous nightclub Heaven. He has also noted that it took a very long time to write because he was "always changing the lyrics."

The Boys had originally planned to include it on Release, but changed their minds because they felt it didn't fit with the rest of the album. To be sure, the sunny, rollicking, upbeat sound might have seemed somewhat out of place. On the other hand, its "rock guitar sound" certainly wouldn't have been inappropriate, and it would at least have provided a refreshing contrast to the rest of the album's rather somber mood. Whatever the case, there's no other recording in the entire PSB catalog quite like it.

The aforementioned "sixties-ish" style (which, personally, reminds me more of the Monkees than anything else) is no accident. The track features a sample from an obscure 1967 pop record titled "Father's Name Was Dad" by the band Fire. This explains the authoring co-credit for Dave Lambert, the writer of that song. The lyrics, which take the form of a morose reverie arising from hearing some unidentifed music, sound intensely autobiographical, including such lines as—

I live my life on a stage
Put it down on the page
I didn’t get where I am today
Without writing a resumé

—that "resumé" presumably being his body of work. In marked contrast to the happy sound of the music, the overall mood of the lyrics is one of profound regret ("deep inside you’re sinking without a trace"), largely the result of missing chances for personal happiness while pursuing and gaining worldly success. In other words, it's the familiar story (and the lyrics recognize it as "that old cliché") of someone who appears wildly successful to the outside world but who's actually miserable inside. Of course, it's quite possible that the narrator isn't really Neil himself—that, as is often the case, he has adopted a fictional persona with whom he shares only certain traits. Whatever the case, it's a fascinating study in contrasts—downbeat words juxtaposed against such upbeat music—that practically begs for an ironic interpretation.

(bonus track on the "I'm with Stupid" single)

The official PSB website reported that during the week of February 13, 2006, the Boys were working on this track, released as one of the bonus tracks with the single "I'm with Stupid." It was inspired by the 1999 film Boys Don't Cry, which told the true story of the Nebraska teenager Brandon Teena, who was born a girl but lived as a boy, which led to her being brutally raped and murdered in 1992.

Often artists themselves, by their own admission, aren't 100% certain of the meaning (or meanings) of their own work. Despite its known source of inspiration, such is the case with this song. As Neil says in the July 2006 issue of Literally,

"The song is a story about a girl who I think is maybe a lesbian, but actually we don't know what's happened really. She's runing away. She's possibly killed her boyfriend, she's possibly leaving town because they've discovered she's having a lesbian affair, she's possibly pregnant and her boyfriend's rejected her. We just don't know…."

The relatively brief midtempo track describes a suburban teenager whose "instincts lead a different way." She dresses and acts like a boy, which results in her having to endure harsh taunts ("words that could almost murder"). Nevertheless, she bears them as best she can: "Whatever boys say, girls don't cry." Neil twice refers to this being "the final day," therefore suggesting that the song's central character—possibly Brandon Teena herself, but possibly a parallel imaginary figure—may very soon be killed.

As one of my site visitors has speculated, the protagonist of this song—or at least of the final verse—may not be the "Brandon Teena figure" at all, but rather a girlfriend who survives:

In the pocket by her heart is a dog-eared polaroid
A picture of a girl with her arm 'round a boy
Who went missing the final day

If this is indeed the case, then the "boy who went missing" may be the character directly inspired by Brandon Teena.

It's little more than a snapshot of a song, yet the Pet Shop Boys manage to imbue their protagonist with a distinct aura of heroism. She maintains her dignity simply by continuing to be who she is in the face of mindless hatred. In this sense, despite death, she triumphs.

The Resurrectionist

(bonus track on the "I'm with Stupid" single)

At one time mentioned for possible inclusion on Fundamental, Neil and Chris later decided to make this truly outstanding synth-rocking track a bonus on the first single from that album, "I'm with Stupid." As with "Girls Don't Cry," they were still working on it as late as mid-February 2006. It was inspired, according to Neil, by Sarah Wise's 2004 book The Italian Boy: Murder and Graverobbing in 1830s London, itself based on an actual historical criminal case. The song takes its title from a darkly humorous nickname given to nineteenth-century graverobbers who supplied medical schools with cadavers: "resurrectionists."

Neil's lyrics assume that same darkly humorous tone, reveling in perverse wordplay, including some rather macabre puns. For example, when two gentlemen in the same trade talk shop, the narrator notes, "We talked the same body language." The chorus concludes with the recurring flawed but nonetheless apt couplet:

We all gotta earn ourselves a living
All it takes is a little bit of digging

Elsewhere "a handsome lad lay in a Hansom cab." And, at the end, the best/worst of them all:

We don't bring them back to life
But we do bring them back from the dead

Now, how many other contemporary musical acts would have dared to write and release a song on such a perversely fascinating subject? Or, for that matter, would have even thought of it?

By the way, with the help of a couple of my site visitors, I'm able to provide a very simple map showing the relative locations of the places referred to in the song, some of which make for rather confusing lyrics until you understand the references. Another potential source of confusion are bits of obscure nineteenth-century slang, such as "fogle hunter": a thief specializing in silk handkerchiefs. There must have been a much bigger market for that sort of thing back then than there is today.

(bonus track on the "Minimal" DVD single)

A short, fast track with a rocking, repetitive synth line that recalls an earlier PSB sound—so much so that some fans have likened it to songs from their first album, Please. According to the official website, it was written and recorded by Chris and Neil in 2003 around the same time as "Luna Park" and "Casanova in Hell."

The lyrics are built around the seeming paradox that opposites can meet and in at least some ways be the same: "Sky meets the sea—blue on blue." The narrator applies this concept to a budding love relationship in which, by implication, he and his lover are also very different people, virtual opposites, who are nevertheless well matched:

You want to be free
What do you do?
Get yourself where the sky meets the sea
Blue on blue

As the Pet Shop Boys had suggested more than a decade earlier in "Liberation," true freedom is to be found not in absolute independence but rather in coming together in loving union. The concluding image of the song has the narrator and his partner sailing off together toward the horizon where blue meets blue—an emblem, as it were, of their new lives together.

Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of this song is the fact that its minor-key melody and rather harsh arrangement don't seem to "fit" the subject matter. It's just enough to make you wonder whether some other subtext is at work here. Could the fact that "blue on blue" is British military slang for "friendly fire" have some special significance? Could the song be about a lover who has passed away—perhaps of AIDS, which itself could be viewed metaphorically as a form of "friendly fire"? Or is that just an outlandish coincidence? Although Neil concedes (in the May 2007 issue of their fan club publication Literally) that the title is inspired by the Iraq war—

"…the song itself has nothing to do with that—I just thought it was rather a pretty phrase. It's about being with your lover by the sea—the blue of the sky and the blue of the sea. And the metaphor is that two unhappy—i.e. blue—people together can make each other happy."

One of my site visitors has pointed out the noticeable similarity of the basic synth lines of "Blue on Blue" and "Native Love," an old Divine song produced and co-written by Bobby Orlando. To be sure, the two synth lines aren't identical, and the melodies and chord structures of the songs are markedly different, so there's certainly no suggestion of plagiarism. But given the Boys' early association with Bobby O and their well-documented fondness for his music, his influence is clearly at work. It's even possible that this might be a bit of a conscious musical "nod" or tribute, though they've made no mention of such a thing.

Bright Young Things

(bonus track on the "Numb" single)

British actor, comedian, writer, and (now) director Stephen Fry asked the Pet Shop Boys to record two songs for his 2003 film Bright Young Things. This track was to have been the title song, but the film's producers decided against using it, opting instead to use period music exclusively. (Incidentally, the other song that Neil and Chris are reported to have recorded for the project is a cover of the Noël Coward classic "The Party's Over Now," which does indeed coincide with the period in which the story is set.) Although an unauthorized audio demo circulated briefly on the Internet soon after it was recorded, it had to wait several years for official release. Neil had stated on the official PSB website that "Bright Young Things" might yet be released as one of the bonus tracks on a single from Fundamental. The "Numb" single provided that opportunity, with the released track boasting a somewhat more elaborate arrangement than the aforementioned demo.

The film—a dark, satiric comedy loosely based on Evelyn Waugh's 1930 novel Vile Bodies—concerns a "smart set" of fashionable young Brits living a wild life of parties, booze, and free sex in the period between the two world wars. The label "Bright Young Things," used in the novel but hardly original with Waugh, was often used by contemporaries to collectively describe this set of trendy but aimless youth. (Thanks, by the way, to Jeff Durst for providing information about Waugh and Vile Bodies. I must confess that I've never read the book myself.)

The PSB song bears in many ways a marked similarity to one of their other soundtrack numbers, "Nothing Has Been Proved" (from the film Scandal), most noticeably in the way that its lyrics refer cryptically (from the perspective of anyone who hasn't seen the movie) to various characters in the story, providing tantalizing "snapshots" of their attitudes and actions. It's obvious that these are people who lead lives of scarcely concealed desperation, partying ceaselessly to escape their troubles. ("Sometimes a party's a port in a storm.") Neil's omniscient narrator seems to pity them—"flying," as it were, "on chemical wings"—but it's only an impression; he's too subtle and skillful a lyricist to come right out and say so unambiguously.

Again like "Nothing Has Been Proved," the music could be described as a "slow burn," starting out softly but ominously, building in intensity, employing shifting rhythms (at times noticeably faster in tempo than in the original demo) to evoke different moods while working its way toward several cathartic climaxes. Neil uses his "low voice," à la "Birthday Boy," to add to the overall air of foreboding.

By the way, it's interesting to note the reference in the lyrics to "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square," a 1915 romantic standard that would surely be quite familiar to the characters Neil is singing about. Another of Neil's lines from the song, "Nancy's got a monkey on a silver chain," has its origins not with the novel but rather with a letter written by Waugh at around the same time, describing someone he observed "with a pet monkey on a silver harness." What's more, the name Nancy itself may have been inspired by Nancy Mitford, Waugh's lifelong friend and confidante. And the line about a character named Stephen—who, after all, has a camera—could be an "in joke" reference to the film's director, Mr. Fry himself.

(bonus track on the "Numb" single)

In light of the fact that it shares the status of "Numb" bonus track with "Bright Young Things," and that the Pet Shop Boys recorded the Noël Coward standard "The Party's Over Now" around the same time for a similar prospective purpose, there was early speculation that this might be that same song under a different title. That, however, proved not to be the case. It's a fast, raucous, synth-heavy, and rather discordant original that sounds every bit as much the "Party Song" that its title suggests.

As revealed in the May 2007 issue of the offical Pet Shop Boys Fan Club magazine Literally, the music originated with Chris and Neil working on a possible cover version of Nirvana's grunge-rock classic "Semlls Like Teen Spirit," which had been suggested to them by Elton John. But they quickly turned it into a different song altogether, retaining only their bass line.

On first listen there seems little to interpret here. But that all depends on one very important question: just who is Neil's lyrical persona in this song? If it's Neil himself (or someone very much like him), then this song can probably be taken at face value simply as a celebration of "goodtime" music appropriate for a party. There is, after all, an important place in the world for such songs. But what if it's someone quite different from either of the Pet Shop Boys? Could it be a somewhat misguided fan complaining about the plethora of recent "non-party" PSB songs—such as "Numb" itself or, for that matter, the entire albums Release and/or Fundamental? Or perhaps it's a record company executive lodging a similar complaint, urging Chris and Neil to write and release more "party-oriented" material, presumably as a means toward greater popular appeal. (I can easily imagine such executives ignorantly believing that, in their earlier, more commercially successful days, the Pet Shop Boys cranked out mindless party songs by the score.)

Actually, as Neil states in the aforementioned issue of Literally, he wrote the lyrics from the perspective of "a guy at a club harassing the DJ to play a record he likes.… [T]hey hate it… because DJs just don't really operate like that nowadays, and haven't for many years. The song sympathizes with the DJ."

Part of the charm of this song lies in the very fact that it would seem to meet the criterion of being a "party song" while teasing us with its sarcasm. Once again, its the ambiguity that makes it most interesting. As they had done previously with "Between Two Islands," the Boys interpolate a bit of a pop classic into the song—in this case, KC and the Sunshine Band's 1975 disco standard "That's the Way (I Like It)." (Thus the co-writing credit for Henry Wayne Casey—"KC" himself—and Richard Raymond Finch.) Neil and Chris did this to show how the narrator gets his way in the end, with the DJ playing a party song after all.

This extremely brief song, only about a minute in length, was released exclusively as part of issue #53 of Visionaire, a New York-based limited-edition arts periodical that assumes a different format every issue. This particular issue, titled "Sound," consists of five 12-inch vinyl picture-disc recordings of "audio experiments," spoken-word pieces, and previously unreleased songs, among them this PSB track. (Other contributors include U2, Michael Stipe, Yoko Ono, Thurston Moore & Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth, Malcolm McLaren, Ryuichi Sakamoto, and David Sylvian, among others. The package carries a hefty $250 price tag, and apparently only 4,000 will be manufactured and sold.

The lyrics, which seem somewhat fragmentary—understandable enough in such a short, mid-tempo track—are as curious as they are brief. Neil's lyrical persona (whom I don't believe is Neil himself, for reasons that I'll explain in a moment) says that he deserves "a better life" with just "a little country house, a dog, and a car." The person to whom this is addressed appears to lack certain desirable qualities:

Giving will make you feel so good
And so much more human than you are

So the narrator calmly suggests that this person exhibit some "generosity," after which the song ends with a quiet "Thank you."

As I said, I don't believe the lyrical persona is meant to be taken as Neil himself. After all, he already enjoys a pretty good life—at least by most people's standards—with a dog and a little country house (just three bedrooms) in northern England. So it would seem he's voicing someone else's concerns.

And then there's that title, "Transfer." The Boys allude to one possible explanation in the February 2008 issue of their Fan Club magazine Literally when they describe the song's origin. They wrote it in early 2007, although Chris had the music in his computer from sometime before. "I was just going through all this stuff I had in my computer," he notes, to which Neil adds, "You were transferring them…." But they say little else about it or the song's meaning.

Quite possibly it refers to the phenomenon of "transference," in which (in one of its manifestations) a person projects his own problems or shortcomings onto another person. In other words, this character is himself lacking in generosity but, instead of owning up to it, accuses someone else of having that particular flaw, thereby "transferring" the fault to the other person. (It should be noted that another, more common definition of "transference" in the field of psychology is the transfer of one's feelings for someone else onto another.) Perhaps Neil—who, as usual, wrote the lyrics—had encountered a situation like this at some point, having been unfairly accused of lacking in generosity by an erstwhile lover. That, of course, is sheer speculation. I'd hate to think, however, that anyone was ever so cruel as to accuse him of not being very "human."

Of course, as I've often stated right here on this website, good art lends itself to multiple interpretations, and this song is no exception. PSB aficionados (such as on the Pet Shop Boys Community Forum) have proposed a number of intriguing interpretations quite different from mine. The most interesting and promising of these, in my opinion, is that this song is actually a plea to fans—possibly from Neil's own perspective but, perhaps more likely, from that of a younger, more struggling artist—not to engage in illegal downloading. Rather, fans should pay for music to help ensure that artists can make as good a living as they deserve according to the merit of their work. In this case, the title might refer to the illegal transfer of digital music files and/or to the legal transfer of funds for legitimate downloading. The fact that Neil specifically refers to Chris "transferring" computer files while discussing the creation of this song may lend additional credence to this reading of the lyrics. Whatever the case, "Transfer" easily earns its place among the more enigmatic PSB creations.

Incidentally, the Visionaire team had worked with the Pet Shop Boys before, having designed the artwork and packaging for their 2002 album Release.

For All of Us

Demo versions with Neil's vocals of this pretty, somber ballad from the Pet Shop Boys' stage musical Closer to Heaven have been circulating unofficially for years, and on occasion one or more of those demos have been made officially available for listening purposes on the official PSB website. The demos feature him singing in his highest non-falsetto register, pushing his natural vocal range to the edge, lending the track a distinct air of emotional frailty.

Neil has stated that the lyrics went through three different versions. Earlier lyrics reflected in the Boys' demos seem much more personal, with Neil emphasizing the fact that, just because someone is rich and famous doesn't mean that they must lead a "charmed life with … no pain or strife." Rather, they face the same personal trials and tribulations as the rest of us; in fact, those difficulties may even be compounded by their status as public figures. Given their apparently (and intensely) personal nature, it's not surprising that Neil should repeatedly rewrite the lyrics: first from one demo to the next, and then finally, even more drastically, to fit the context of the musical.

Those earlier pre-Closer lyrics are in some ways so emotionally raw that you can't help but feel the great sense of pain that Neil (or at least his lyrical persona, since it's always questionable to read what a writer writes as being necessarily autobiographical) expresses in describing his great sorrow and regret regarding the fragility of love. But all known versions of the lyrics share that common thread of bemoaning the accompanying sense of loss, most likely—and, in the case of the musical, certainly—in the wake of death. By extension, they express grief for the decline of love in society overall. The narrator seems resigned and more than a little bitter. But in expressing his feelings, he implicitly conveys his hopes not only for himself but for the world in general, thereby transcending mere solipsism in the face of terrible disappointment.

For more information about this song in the context of the musical, please see the separate entry for it in my Closer to Heaven section.

The website for ASCAP (the American Society for Composers, Authors, and Publishers) cites this curious title as a composition by Chris Lowe and Neil Tennant. As it turns out, it's the music performed onstage at the very end of the Fundamental tour shows and over the closing credits of the Cubism DVD. It consists simply of the extended coda of the preceding song, "Go West," with the support vocalists singing the titles of various other songs they had performed in the show, including "Shopping," "So Hard," "Psychological," and "I'm with Stupid."

On May 2, 2008, the Pet Shop Boys performed as part of a show at London's Heaven nightclub to benefit the family of their longtime friend and associate Dainton Connell, who had been killed in an automobile accident the previous year. Included in their set was a special remake of "My Girl," originally a 1980 #3 U.K. hit by the British ska revival band Madness, written by member Mike Barson. Joining Chris and Neil onstage for their cover rendition were two other members of Madness—and friends of Dainton—Suggs (Graham McPherson) and Chas (Carl Smythe), who handled lead vocals.

In preparation for this performance, the Boys recorded a demo version with Neil on lead vocal. Shortly after the benefit show, they posted their demo on their official website for their fans' listening pleasure. It may be a cliché, but it's an accurate one: the Pets have made this song all their own. As it bounces along in its thoroughly enjoyable way, its light, staccato, but driving techno-rhythms help convey and express the narrator's litany of frustrations with his somewhat demanding girlfriend, who simply doesn't understand him: "I like to stay in and watch TV on my own every now and then." (I mean, what guy doesn't want to do that?) Neil's dry, understated vocal adds to our sense of the narrator's sadness at finding himself in a near-hopeless personal situation, in love with someone who won't fully accept him for who he is.

Our heroes have done a marvelous job of filtering the song's original ska style through their own synthpop sensibilities. As a result, it wouldn't have been one bit out of place on the 1980s pop charts. In fact, it might make a highly successful single more than a quarter-century after the original.

Although Neil has written and/or recorded several songs with Johnny Marr and Bernard Sumner as part of their Electronic project (most notably the superb single "Disappointed," on which Neil sings lead), this cut from the 1991 Electronic album is the only one (so far) on which both Neil and Chris are co-writers and performers. Thus it merits inclusion here as a "Pet Shop Boys track." The narrator (or, as we shall see, narrators) of this song is something of a bastard, set in his carefree ways, who admits that he's difficult to live with. "How could I change? I live without restraint." Knowing himself as well as he does, he concedes (perhaps with some misplaced pride) that he "would try the patience of a saint."

Interestingly, this song is a duet between Neil and Bernard Sumner. A duet between two men singing a song about a close personal relationship is eye-opening, to say the least. Of course, they may in fact be voicing the same character; that is, two singers, but only one persona. But if they are indeed singing two different dramatic parts, so to speak, then there's no avoiding the implications of this song as describing a gay relationship—in which case both men admit they're difficult to live with, that they would try the patience of a saint. Therefore, though they may be bastards, they're also saints for putting up with each other. And suddenly a song that previously sounded misanthropic, even antagonistic, becomes quite moving and poignant. In short, these two people, for better or worse, are made for each other.

Tracks Written by the Pet Shop Boys for Other Artists But Not Yet Released in Versions by the Boys Themselves

Results (1989)

 

As Neil once put it, "We basically made a Pet Shop Boys album and Liza Minnelli sings it." According to Scott Schechter in his 2004 tome The Liza Minnelli Scrapbook (which, it may be worth noting, embarrassingly refers to the Pet Shop Boys as a trio), most of Results was recorded in an intense course of "midnight sessions" April 18-22, 1989, while Liza was in London for a series of live shows at the Royal Albert Hall with Sammy Davis, Jr. and Frank Sinatra. (Some, however, had already been recorded the preceding month.) The resulting album proved both a critical and commercial success—a significant hit in Europe, where it sold more than 600,000 copies, and a respectable seller even in the United States, where to date it has sold roughly 200,000. Neil and Chris themselves proudly consider the album one of their finest achievements.

Curiously, it was none other than the notorious Gene Simmons of Kiss who served as a "midwife" of sorts to the PSB-Minnelli collaboration. Reportedly it was Simmons who encouraged Liza to record material more "contemporary" than her standard Broadway-oriented fare. And apparently it was he who introduced her to executives at Epic Records, who then arranged her introduction to the Boys—professed fans who were only too pleased to work with her.

Neil and Chris strugged for a while trying to come up with a good title for the album, a task that Liza had left completely up to them. It was during their summer 1989 tour, after hearing an offhand comment by their friend Janet Street-Porter regarding some of her clothes ("I call it my results wear 'cause when I wear them I always get results") that they suddenly settled on the title, which Liza loved when she heard it.

Although the album was entirely produced by the Chris and Neil (with Julian Mendelsohn), only the songs discussed below were written by them but aren't available in versions performed by them. The album also, however, includes "Rent," "Tonight Is Forever," "So Sorry, I Said," "Losing My Mind" (Sondheim), "Twist in My Sobriety" (Tikaram), and "Love Pains" (Price/Walsh/Barri), all of which are discussed elsewhere on this website.

The narrator of this song has been abandoned by her lover, for whom she longs desperately. She can't get him off her mind; she imagines she sees him in the faces of approaching strangers. Though they're now separated by thousands of miles and by open seas, she's "prepared to take chances" to get him back. Taking advantage of Minnelli's powerful theatricality (not without a touch of campiness), the Pet Shop Boys created some of their most dramatic music for their Results collaboration, and this, the album's opening track, is one of the most dramatic of the lot. Whenever Liza sings the phrase "I want you now," it's so intense it's almost scary. In fact, this song virtually demands a female voice. If Neil or any other male were to sing it, it would sound dangerously pathological.

Written especially for Results, "I Want You Now" was originally titled "Can't Take No for an Answer." One line of the song's lyric was written by Chris—his only lyrical contribution to the album—when he changes the original words "every sultry evening" to the alliterating, somewhat more fluid "every empty evening."

Another track that Neil and Chris wrote specifically for Liza—and, continuing with the theatricality, perhaps the most paranoiac song they've ever composed. In a world in which ordinary people are pawns of "men of affairs [and] women with power," in which we are manipulated by "pollsters and planners," in which there are "satellites talking to clutter our lives," and (in the most apocalyptic line yet recorded from Neil's pen) "there's a hole in the sky as distant and vast as our moral vacuum and growing as fast" (wow!), what hope is there? "If there was love, would that be enough?" We're left to ponder this amazing question. Is love possible in such a world and, if so, is it alone enough to sustain us against such opposition?

Rather than offer an answer, the Boys have Liza read William Shakespeare's Sonnet 94. It was apparently a spur-of-the-moment decision that came about because Neil happened to be perusing the sonnets while in the studio listening to a playback of the song. (Liza herself verifed this in an interview in the October 1989 issue of i-D magazine, adding that Neil was searching at the time for something to read at the funeral of a friend who had just passed away.) Sonnet 94 contrasts powerful people who are benevolent and do not harm others with those who are more malevolent, ending with the lines:

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

In other words, great and powerful people who turn bad are far worse than those who were never great to begin with. Through this sudden, fortuitous coupling of their song with a classic of English poetry, the Boys (with Liza as their "spokeswoman") seem to be wondering whether we poor little weeds—even if we manage to find love—can survive in this world amidst all the festering lilies.

Don't Drop Bombs   by Liza Minnelli

A surprisingly simple and direct song in which the narrator asks (or "demands" might be more like it) her lover or husband to stop "dropping bombs"—that is, telling her things that she'd rather not hear about, such as his affair with his secretary or the other women on his "expense account." It's a form of mental cruelty, and if he doesn't stop, she threatens that she'll "start playing rough!"

It's just possible that this song may have been at least partly inspired by The Gap Band's 1982 hit "You Dropped a Bomb on Me." The title "Don't Drop Bombs," and perhaps some of the final song itself, was derived from an early "pre-PSB fame" song that Neil had written for a prospective girl group who called themselves the Saturday Girls, consisting of three young ladies with whom he worked back in his days with Smash Hits magazine. Nothing ever came of it—except, of course, for the germ of this track. (single: UK #46)

Another of the Boys' incredibly brazen love/lust songs. It also happens to be one of the earliest songs that Chris and Neil wrote together, from way back in 1982, but not seeing the light of day until 1989 and Results. The narrator feels rather ambivalent about her love for the person she has just spent the evening with ("I don't know whether I'll love you much longer"), but she doesn't want to be alone tonight, so she's finding it difficult to say goodnight—that is, to leave. She recognizes that her desire may be inspired largely by the fact that it's "a hot summer's night." People in PSB songs can be so disarmingly honest, it makes you wonder whether (1) Neil and/or people he knows really do talk and act like this, (2) Neil simply wishes people talked and acted like this, (3) Neil doesn't wish such a thing but finds it interesting to speculate on what life would be like if people did talk and act like this, or (4) Neil simply puts into words what he believes people are truly thinking.

Reputation (1991)

 

Note: The audio widget for this album includes only the tracks writtten and/or produced by the Pet Shop Boys.

After having (re)introduced the great Dusty Springfield to the "MTV generation" via "What Have I Done to Deserve This?" the Pet Shop Boys continued to foster her resurgence by producing half of her 1991 album Reputation. Side One boasted a number of different producers and songwriters, but it's Side Two that interests us here, featuring as it did five PSB-produced tracks, four of which were also written by Neil and Chris.

The two songs discussed below were written by the Pet Shop Boys but aren't available in versions performed by them. The album also includes "Nothing Has Been Proved" and "In Private," the Pet Shop Boys' own renditions of which (the latter as a duet with Elton John) have now been released, and the Goffin-King song "I Want to Stay Here," produced by Chris and Neil; these tracks are discussed elsewhere on this website.

Incidentally, the half of the album not written and/or produced by the Pet Shop Boys is pretty darn good, too. My own particular favorites are the title track (written by Brian Spence and produced by Andy Richards)—which is so good that I often find myself wishing that Neil and Chris had written it—and "Born This Way" (written by Geoffrey Williams and Simon Stirling and produced by the late, great Dan Hartman), which comes close to being Dusty's "coming out" song.

Daydreaming   by Dusty Springfield

Simply enough, an attempt to nudge someone from laziness, complacency, and self-satisfaction, urging him or her to get up, get out, and do something—especially something enjoyable—rather than just lie around "daydreaming." The narrator is tired of waiting for this other person, who refuses to make commitments of any sort. She feels that the parade of life is passing her by, and, as in the previous song "In Private," you get the distinct impression that she's not going to tolerate this situation much longer. The music, languid in tempo and arrangement, very nicely reflects the mood from which the Boys (through Dusty) are trying to shake the person they're addressing. The late Ms. Springfield, despite her still-wonderful singing voice, was not as effective a "rapper" as Neil, so the spoken portions of the track aren't particularly effective.

Perhaps the only song that the Boys have together written for someone else in which the hand of Chris is far more obvious than that of Neil. This is not to suggest that Chris hasn't been much involved in their various third-party collaborations, but rather that his dominance has never been more assured than it is here. This track is interesting in a number of other ways as well. For one thing, it's about as mystical as the Pet Shop Boys get. It also directly addresses the listener—a rare thing in their songs, which usually deal with the first- and second-person relationships of various characters or "dramatic personae." We are advised to "find another meaning," to experience and believe in a feeling as a way of surviving "in a world so confused."

According to Pet Shop Boys, Literally, this song grew out of an "acid house snippet" that Chris played on their 1989 tour following "Domino Dancing." Paul Howes, in his 2002 book The Complete Dusty Springfield, elaborates on this when he cites Neil as stating that it was inspired by the popular "Sunrise Raves" that took place in the U.K. during the mid- and late-1980s. The throbbing, extremely techno-oriented music (even by PSB standards) is mechanistic yet hypnotic. In fact, it is that hypnotic quality that is at the heart of this song. If people can engage in transcendental meditation while dancing, this is the music they'd be dancing to. A fascinating track.

This track appears on MIU, the 2002 debut album by Japanese singer Miyuki Motegi, whom the Boys didn't meet until several months after she had recorded and released this song. The music was written by Neil and Chris, but Neil had provided only tentative, incomplete lyrics. (The working title of the song, believe it or not, had been "Diddly Squat"—an idiomatic expression meaning "little or nothing.") Motegi, who often goes by her nickname Miu, retained Neil's title for the song but wrote brand new lyrics in Japanese—although at one point the English line "Happy birthday to you" pops up mid-sentence.

The production is closely derived from the Pet Shop Boys' demo, which they offered to Motegi upon the suggestion of a friend of theirs who works for Toshiba EMI. Neil's background vocal on the track, repeatedly singing the English line "And there she goes," also comes from the demo, as does a pretty wild synthesizer solo by Chris. In general, the music is infectious—surprisingly hard-rocking dance-pop.

Motegi's lyrics, when translated into English, suggest either a lesbian relationship or a male point of view—the latter not especially unusual since Neil himself has professed to write and sing lyrics written from the perspective of the opposite sex, as in the case of "Rent." Then again, the story told by the lyrics is rather unusual in and of itself. She sings of taking her "dream girl" out to dinner and buying her a birthday present, only to be confronted by another girl—a "strange girl" with whom s/he had apparently spent the previous night—who thereby causes a fatal rift in the narrator's primary relationship. Very odd, indeed. Even odder is the fact that it would seem that the title "All or Nothing" appears nowhere in the song, even with a liberal translation. The only likely connection of the story to the meaning of the title would be that the "dream girl" breaks up with the narrator because she wasn't his/her "all." Therefore she'll be "nothing" to him/her.

I've read a rough translation of brief commentary that Motegi herself has made concerning this song. Assuming that this translation is interpreting her words correctly, she "sympathizes" with what she regards as the Pet Shop Boys' "cynical worldview," but had some difficulty expressing it through a lyrical persona. She therefore tried to get that cynicism across through "simple scene description." Based on the aforementioned translation of the lyrics, I would say that she has succeeded admirably.

Love Life   by Alcazar

This song was originally titled "Can I Be the One?" and was first recorded by the Boys during the Release sessions. They thought poorly of it, however; Neil even later dismissed it as "rubbish.… like a boy band song." Yet they obviously regarded it highly enough to turn it over to someone else to record. Quite economical of them, wouldn't you say?

Going back a couple years, Neil and Chris loved the song "Crying at the Discotheque" by the Swedish group Alcazar from the moment they heard it. Later, as reported by the official PSB site, the Boys met the members of Alcazar in 2002 when they (Alcazar, that is) were performing in London. Alcazar asked for a new song, and our heroes graciously complied with their apparent "reject," provided in the form of a demo driven by prominent rhythm guitar (either real or sampled). Now retitled "Love Life," the track was produced by Alcazar's fellow Scandinavian(s) Vacuum—either primarily or exclusively Mattias Lindblom—who did a marvelous job of channeling the "PSB sound" through the medium of Alcazar. In fact, the Alcazar rendition is closely modeled on the Boys' demo, though somewhat elaborated with additional effects and instruments, including syndrums. It appears on their album Alcazarized, released in Sweden in mid-May 2003, and was also released as a single there in late September. By early November it had reached its peak of #10 on the Swedish singles chart.

In the lyrics—simple and direct, written in the first and second persons—the narrator suggests a long-term love affair with the person to whom he's singing. He's lonely and senses that his prospective lover is, too. "Can I propose a new solution—a revolution for you and me?" Then comes the chorus, composed simply of the repeated line "Can I be the one to share your love life?" (hence the song's original title). After another verse in which the narrator suggests that the two of them live together, we get to perhaps the most interesting part of the song: a bridge in the style of a personal ad. "I'm tall and presentable, well-dressed and clean … with a good sense of humor … non-smoking …" and so on. A delightful lyrical conceit.

Altogether, I think Neil and Chris judged their own work rather harshly. "Love Life" is an upbeat, poppy, thoroughly infectious number that practically begs you to get up and dance. If it's "rubbish," it's only in the best sense of that word: light, frothy, even trivial, but great fun nonetheless. In fact, it makes me smile just to listen to it. Don't be so hard on yourselves, boys!

Jack and Jill Party (Tennant/Lowe/Burns)   by Pete Burns

After they wrote an early version of this song in 2003, the Boys realized that, in the words of Neil, "It'd be perfect for Pete Burns." For those who need an introduction, Pete Burns is the outrageously androgynous lead singer of Dead or Alive, best known for such eighties dance-pop hits as "You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)" and "Brand New Lover." On February 13, 2004, Chris and Neil spent time in the studio with Pete recording his vocals—which Pete later superlatively described as the "most rewarding recording experience" in his life. In the process he contributed additional lyrics. Heavy with harsh bass-synths—betraying a strong "electro" influence while also harkening back to the early-eighties "Bobby O sound" (à la "Passion") that proved a powerful early influence on the Boys—the song constitutes the second release on their own Olde English Vinyl label (the first being their 2003 mix of Atomizer's "Hooked on Radiation").

The title is quite intriguing. According to The Gay Almanac (1996: Berkley Books), "Jack and Jill party" is a slang term from the late 1980s referring to a sex party in which both gay men and lesbians are equally welcome to participate. It's also used to describe a get-together in which both men and women, straight and/or gay, watch each other pleasure themselves, usually on a "look but don't touch" basis. (It doesn't take much imagination to figure out the origin of the term; simply consider one of the slang meanings of "jack.") The official PSB website offered yet another definition: "A man in a simultaneous relationship with a man (Jack) and a woman (Jill)." (That is, the relationship itself is the "party.") Neil referred to these multiple meanings in speaking to interviewer Ian Usher for a 2004 issue of Attitude magazine (issue 123), implicitly acknowledging that he plays with that ambiguity in the lyrics.

Speaking of which—the lyrical narrator brazenly and repeatedly asserts that he's indeed going to a Jack and Jill party and doesn't care who knows. In fact, he relishes the fact that he's being so upfront about it. "Nobody's gonna stop me!" he cries, virtually daring anyone to try. "I don't care what they say!" This devil-may-care attitude is itself the very heart of the song. In other words, it's not really about a Jack and Jill party, but rather about being open and honest about such things. In the song's most remarkable lines, Burns sings of "going to America" and walking "hand in hand" in public with his lover:

It's almost like I'm almost straight
And that's such a great substantial way
To deflect hate in the U.S.A.

It's somewhat reminiscent of Quentin Crisp's famous assertion (certainly overstated but with more than a grain of truth) that one can regain one's "virginity" by appearing on television and talking about one's past, after which people are inclined to forgive you almost anything. Boldness, openness, and honesty, at least in this context, become purifying qualities that cleanse even the most shocking behaviors of much of their shock value.

One other thing to consider: Is it possible that the songwriters are suggesting that, metaphorically, the whole world is a vast "Jack and Jill party" in which we all—male and female, gay and straight—spend our lives watching each other? It's just a thought….

Incidentally, an early 2007 news story regarding allegedly botched plastic surgery performed on Burns's lips (!) suggested that this unfortunate medical mishap had prevented Pete from recording an entire album with Neil and Chris, thereby leaving this one single as the legacy of their collaboration. (single: UK #75, UK Dance #17)

She's Madonna (Williams/Tennant/Lowe)   by Robbie Williams with Pet Shop Boys

Based on Robbie's original concept, Chris and Neil wrote and performed this song with Mr. Williams for his album Rudebox, released in late October 2006. (Even though it's Robbie's album, this track is credited to "Robbie Williams with Pet Shop Boys.") Robbie, as quoted on the Popjustice website, said that he played Kraftwerk's "Tour De France" for the Boys and then asked if they could "do something like this, but not much like this." In working together on this song, the Pet Shop Boys and Robbie both contributed to the music and lyrics alike. Neil is also quite noticeable within the background vocals.

Even pre-release, the song was, like Madonna herself, surrounded by controversy. Robbie denied print rumors that the song stemmed from the fact that both he and Madge's husband Guy Ritchie at one time dated UK TV personality Tania Strecker—Ritchie before he met Madonna and Robbie afterward, in 2000. The gossip was that "She's Madonna" is based on Tania's telling Robbie about a conversation that Guy allegedly had with her when they broke up. Ritchie reportedly said, "Look, you know I really love you, but she's Madonna." But Robbie rejects this story completely, asserting that the song is simply a tribute to Mrs. Ritchie.

Adding to the controversy is the fact that actor/musician Ashley Hamilton (Rod Stewart's stepson—or perhaps "ex-stepson" considering that Rod is divorced from his mother) claimed to have collaborated with Robbie on the lyrics years before the Boys got involved with it. This latter allegation may lead to a court battle. Speaking of lyrics, the best line in the song is the wondrous pun "She has to be obscene to be believed." If Neil didn't have a hand in writing that, he probably wishes he had, potential lawsuits notwithstanding.

And then there's the video, which includes sequences with Robbie in drag for no discernable reason except perhaps sheer outrageousness. More than one commentator has observed that this did nothing to enhance its chances of commercial success when it was released as a joint Robbie/PSB single in March 2007.

All controversy aside, Neil has noted that Madonna heard the song pre-release and likes it, although Robbie was initially a bit reluctant to release it since he "feared she'd think he was stalking her." A midtempo number with a rich synth and vocal arrangement and a frankly lovely melody, its lyrics are written cleverly enough that they can be read both literally and figuratively. Yes, in a literal sense, it's about a guy (pun intended) dumping his girl for Madge. On the other hand, the "Madonna" here can be viewed as a metaphor for any irresistibly charismatic woman that a man—and, considering that "she's Madonna," perhaps not only a heterosexual man—would find it extremely difficult to say "No" to. It's simply a matter of using a direct metaphor rather than a mere simile ("she's like Madonna").

Either way, literally or metaphorically, it's a superb track, one of the high points of the album on which it appears. (single: UK #16, US Dance #12)

A Few Songs Written and Recorded by the Pet Shop Boys and Not Yet Officially Released

Chris and Neil have a boatload of material that they've written and recorded but not yet released. Yet relatively few of these songs have found their way outside the studio—and of those, I've heard even fewer. But here are the unreleased PSB tracks that I have managed to hear in their entirety (as opposed to brief snippets).

Definitely a period piece, and New Wave is the period. One of the earliest Tennant-Lowe collaborations, written and recorded well before they hit it big, this melodic, infectiously bouncy synthpop track may remain suppressed, so to speak, because of Neil's repeating "bubadubadubadum" background vocal, which he may possibly find embarrassing nowadays. It's just Neil singing along with Chris's synthesizer, but it works quite well. In fact, that potentially embarrassing "bubadubadubadum" motif is so outrageous that it comes across as charming, if naive. Lyrically spare (the same verse and chorus repeated three times), it appears to be about a guy losing patience from being "put on hold," so to speak, by a hesitant lover: "Waiting through the afternoon, one thing on my mind. But there's no way to recompense for that."

By the way, the number of "dubas" in the title seems to be a matter of dispute. It's also been written as "Bubadubadubadubadubadum." But, at least in my opinion, a few dubas go a long way—

Another pre-stardom track, less successful musically than "Bubadubadubadum." Again it's just Neil on vocals and Chris on two synth lines (instrumental melody and bass), but this time the song isn't strong enough to be sustained by such sparse production. The lyrics, however, are quite daring for such an early work: "I was walking down the high street in the middle of the night. Someone caught my eye and I nearly died of fright. He crossed the road to whisper to me, a secret in my ear. And now I know I'll never be the same again—oh, dear!" Daring indeed—not to mention very amusing. It's fascinating to see that dry wit of theirs at work even at this embryonic stage of their career.

With its slow, stately electronic beat-box rhythm, this track was probably one of the demos Chris and Neil recorded for Bobby O in 1984. It boasts one of the prettiest melodies of their early demos, and is further distinguished by a somewhat primitive attempt at "atmospherics," with its synth "whooses" and filtered, distant-sounding fanfares. The dominant instrument, however, is the piano, playing simple, repetitive block chords. Meanwhile, Neil's voice sounds quite mature for such an early song, almost aching with sadness.

The lyrics deal with lost love, or at least love that the narrator is very much in the process of losing. He sings to an absent lover, "I wish I could come across you in the club or in the queue," finding that "you've changed your mind for an everlasting time." He also dreams of taking a continental train trip with that lover, simply going from "A to B and back again." In other words, it doesn't matter where they'd be going; he just wants them to be together, in a "shelter from the rain," suggesting that love itself provides such protection from much of the sadness and cruelty of life. It's really quite a powerful track, and it's surprising that Chris and Neil haven't yet fleshed it out—perhaps giving it the full "orchestral" treatment—for official release.

This track, like the instrumental backing of "This Must Be the Place I've Waited Years to Leave," was composed for the 1987 James Bond film The Living Daylights. Much more upbeat and considerably less atmospheric than that other track, it's hard to imagine this piece fitting into the Bond context. As the story goes, the Boys allegedly backed out of the project when they learned that the film's producers didn't want them to provide a complete soundtrack but merely the opening theme song. But apparently Neil and Chris haven't found an alternate means of putting this track to use, so it languishes in the vault. Incidentally, A-ha got the ultimate job of providing what turned out to be one of the less memorable James Bond themes.

In 1996 the Pet Shop Boys produced this cacophonous, sample-laden, virtually hyperactive instrumental, less than a minute in length, for the short-lived Saturday morning British television music magazine The Noise. Very appropriately named, this piece ranks alongside "The Sound of the Atom Splitting" as one of their more experimental recordings. As an instrumental, there's relatively little else one can say about it.

One of the tracks recorded for their appearance on The John Peel Show in October 2002, this has been described by the Boys as "a kind of rock 'n' roll song" that, like "If Looks Could Kill," dates back to their pre-hitmaking days of two decades before. And, sure enough, it "rocks" like relatively few other PSB tunes. You might call the Peel version "hard synth-pop." It reportedly remained without lyrics and unfinished for more than a decade, but Chris and Neil apparently finally got around to completing it for the Peel sessions, if not much sooner.

Shortly thereafter they went into the studio to record another, more elaborate version as part of the Disco 3 sessions, although they elected not to include it on that album—which is hardly surprising because it emerged as one of the least "disco-ish" things in the PSB canon. No longer "synth-pop" (although it still has synthesizers), it's perhaps the closest they've ever come to "hard rock," complete with thick swashes of harsh, distorted electric guitar chording and feedback. Yet it can claim a beauty and grandeur absent from the much simpler, "poppier" Peel rendition. This alternate version remains unreleased so far except as an "exclusive track" made available for listening only on the official PSB website.

The lyrics provide a fascinating—and, as we shall see, somewhat ambiguous—portrait of a very strange relationship between two people, apparently both men: "He's got a powerful friend who owes him nothing and knows how to spend." As the song progresses, we learn of the inner workings of what would seem to be a rather unhealthy symbiosis. One man lives in the other's apartment "for free"—"waits on the table at tea, lives on the coffee and cream." And he doesn't seem entirely happy with this arrangement since he sometimes finds himself crying, sometimes screaming. Yet the relationship continues; clearly the two get enough out of it to tolerate the dissatisfactions. Neil slips in some rather lascivious innuendos, such as a reference to the fact that "pizza boys deliver what he needs on demand."

As for the aforementioned ambiguity, it may seem on first listen that the titular "powerful friend" is the dominant partner of the relationship, the one who is "waited on" by the other. But the lyrics are worded in such a way that that's not necessarily the case. It's entirely possible that the "powerful friend" is a man who is indeed powerful in his public persona—possibly a politician, which the song hints at—who adopts a dependent, subserviant role in his private life. Such relationships are well documented in the realms of clinical psychology. With such goings-on, it's a small wonder that this song was repressed and/or left unfinished for nearly twenty years.

This track was recorded during the Release sessions but may never come out officially since the Neil and Chris profess not to like it. Yet this highly "techno-oriented" track, full of jagged rhythms and harmonic dissonance, surfaced on an unauthorized disc of "November 2000 demos." On first listen (when not carefully listening to the lyrics) it strikes you as simply extolling the joys of speeding down the freeway. And, at one very real level, it is precisely that. As the opening lines put it, "The open road—a dream of freedom…. For to live is to drive in fast cars." But though the Boys make no bones about how much fun driving can be, they also make no bones about the deeper, more sinister implications of doing so. Pleasure, as is so often the case, comes at a price.

First consider the ecological impact of driving merely for pleasure. "There's so much to enjoy—to pollute, to destroy." Pleasure and environmental destruction seem to go hand-in-hand when "there's a planet to kill." But, beyond that, ponder the element of masculine psychosexual aggression—what's sometimes referred to only half-facetiously as "testosterone poisoning." And indeed Neil unmistakeably directs his critique toward the masculine half of humanity in the lyric's most pointed couplet—

Come—every man, every boy
How much can you destroy?

—turning not only driving but environmental desecration itself into a competitive sport.

Perhaps it's all a bit heavy-handed, but sometimes it takes a slap to jar someone to his senses. Not that such a song can make any real difference, but at least our heroes make their own positions on the matter known. That is, if they do ultimately decide to release this track and thereby make it "official."

Incidentally, this song represents a remarkable turnaround in light of the Boys' scathing putdown of rock stars who "preach and teach the whole world about ecology" in 1990's "How Can You Expect to Be Taken Seriously?" Then again, Neil is somewhat less open to charges of hypocrisy considering that he doesn't drive and has never had a driver's license.

Another recording from the Release sessions, and also like "Motoring" included on the unauthorized disc of "November 2000 demos." But this one, according to Chris and Neil, has far greater potential. And "potential" is precisely the correct word considering the fact that, at least in its "bootlegged" state, it's clearly unfinished.

Neil has stated that this mid-tempo recording (or perhaps a different rendering of the same song) contains "a Cuban sample" of some sort. It has long instrumental passages that are almost certainly awaiting the addition of verse and bridge melodies and lyrics. In fact, the only lyrics so far are the repeated refrain of "It's true, I have little to offer to you—only love." The instrumentation is especially noteworthy in that it features prominent use of electric piano (or samples that sound like an electric piano), a rarity for the Pet Shop Boys. It will be interesting to see whether Neil and Chris pursue the ultimate completion of this lovely and extremely promising track.

Entries on additional unreleased songs appear in the Closer to Heaven section.

"Cover Songs" That the Boys Have Performed Live But Haven't Yet Recorded in the Studio (as far as we know)

In September 1997, British ITV aired a special titled An Audience with Elton John, in which Elton answered questions posed by celebrities and performed a number of his songs, including duets with his guest stars—the Spice Girls, Sting, and the Pet Shop Boys. Neil and Chris performed with Elton an ingenious medley of his hits "Believe" and "Song for Guy." It started out with the melody of "Song for Guy," which flowed into the first verse of "Believe," sung by Elton. Neil then sang the second verse of "Believe," which then segued back into "Song for Guy" ("Life isn't everything…."), which Neil and Elton sang together. Chris of course played keyboard throughout.

The choice of these two songs may seem odd (I wonder if the idea for this particular medley was Elton's or the Boys'—naturally, I suspect the latter) until you realize that "Believe" contains a not-too-subtle dig at those who loudly espouse so-called "family values" in its lines "Fathers and sons make love and guns/Familes together can kill someone without love—I believe in love." And "Song for Guy" was written in memory of a young man who died prematurely—a courier for Elton's Rocket Record Company, killed on the job in a motorcycle accident. The song seemed to take on even greater poignance in the post-AIDS era. It's not surprising, then, that the openly gay Elton John and Neil Tennant would find common ground in such a medley.

Incidentally, a commercial VHS tape of An Audience with Elton John was released several months after its original broadcast.

Yes, it's the Rodgers and Hammerstein inspirational showstopper from The Sound of Music, one of several "unique" songs the Boys performed on October 26, 1997, at the Stonewall Concert at Royal Albert Hall. During this period Chris and Neil were viewing a lot of classic movie musicals as part of their preparations for writing their own musical Closer to Heaven, an experience that almost certainly inspired them to perform this song. The Stonewall Concert—a commemoration/celebration of the gay rights movement—was an ideal venue for a lyric about overcoming life's obstacles.

Like "Climb Every Mountain," this song about the uncertainty one feels (especially about issues of sexuality) when standing at the crossroads between childhood and adulthood comes from The Sound of Music and was performed at the 1997 Royal Albert Hall concert. The Boys made it part of a medley with "Being Boring," thereby emphasizing the nostalgia for youth that is at the root (at least in part) of the latter song.

On October 22, 1993, Neil and Chris recorded this brief track as a fond farewell to a longtime institution of British radio, The Simon Bates Show. Neil sings, "So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu—goodbye, good luck, from me and him [Chris] to you." It's an only slightly modified version of the chorus of yet another song from Rodgers and Hammerstein's musical The Sound of Music. Obviously our heroes have a particular fondness for that show.

This song was a 1977 hit in the U.K. by Eddie and the Hotrods, written by Graeme Douglas and Ed Hollis. The Pet Shop Boys performed it at some but not all of the dates of their early 2002 "Uni Tour." With its restless, rebellious lyrics about breaking free of social, economic, and political constraints, of growing and living adventurously, it seems to share something of the spirit of the Boys' own 2002 song "London."

On Saturday, April 29, 2000, the Pet Shop Boys performed live before a crowd of more than 45,000 at the "Equality Rocks" concert in Washington, D.C. One of the songs they performed proved a tremendous surprise: "Homosexuality," a cover of a 1985 cult disco hit written and performed by the duo Modern Rocketry (Morey Goldstein and Ken Kessie). The chorus goes, "Homosexuality — do you wanna get next to me? …. Anything to fill your need." The Boys' rollicking techno version was highlighted by the repeated, full-bodied refrain "Yes, sir!" sung by Neil and the same group of male backup singers who took part in the Nightlife tour. Needless to say, the predominantly gay and lesbian crowd loved it.

So often have Neil and Chris performed Gloria Gaynor's 1978-79 disco classic as part of a live medley with "It's a Sin" (at least as far back as the 1994 DiscoVery concerts) that it has come to be expected. The implications of this particular medley is unavoidable: the Pet Shop Boys consider the struggle with sin—or, perhaps more accurately, with the concept of sin and its effects on one's psyche—to be a matter of survival. They assert in no uncertain terms that they will indeed overcome and survive. The fact that they often perform it with heavy-handed religious overtones (the female singer wearing a nun's habit, a stained-glass window background projection, and/or sampled pipe organ chords worthy of St. Peter's Basilica) leaves little doubt that their problems with "sin" are actually with "the church"—that is, traditional organized religion.

Chris and Neil performed Tom Jones's pure-pop classic at the 1997 Stonewall performance at Royal Albert Hall. It was a brilliant choice, giving the familiar line "It's not unusual to be loved by anyone" an entirely new meaning in light of the "gay context" of the Stonewall concert. In other words, love is not unusual—period.

This 1993-94 dance hit, originally by the German group Culture Beat, was performed in a medley with "One in a Million" during the 1995 DiscoVery shows. I may be wrong about this, but I doubt that any great meaning should be attached to this match aside from the facts that the two flowed nicely into each other and that it gave Neil and Chris a chance to perform a song that they undoubtedly liked tremendously. Then again, the refrain "I know what I want and I want it now" jives with the sentiment of largely frustrated sexual longing in the Boys' own song.

Neil Young wrote this song for the 1994 film Philadelphia, which was the first big-budget, big-name, mainstream Hollywood movie that focused on the subject of AIDS. (It was about time, eh?) The Boys sometimes added it to their setlist of their 2002 concert tour, performing it as part of their encore. Rumor has it that they also recorded it in the studio for later release, perhaps as a bonus track on a single.

While the combination of Neil Young and the Pet Shop Boys may seem unlikely, it really isn't when you consider the "rock ballad" format of the Release tour and Young's marvelous lyrics told from the viewpoint of someone stricken by the disease: "City of brotherly love, place that I call home, don't turn your back on me.… I won't be ashamed of love." It's profoundly moving, every bit the equal of Bruce Springsteen's better-known Oscar-winning song "Streets of Philadelphia" from the same film. By evoking the literal meaning (from Greek) of the term philadelphia, Young underscores the bitter irony of the terrible ways in which people with AIDS have long been treated in the U.S. and, in fact, much of the world. And the Pet Shop Boys give it a gorgeous, even reverential treatment (almost hymn-like), with Neil's voice at times sounding eerily like that of the other Neil—Young, that is.

When the Pet Shop Boys would perform "Left to My Own Devices" during the 1995 DiscoVery tour and reached the line "Che Guevara and Debussy to a disco beat," they would launch into Corona's recent international dance smash for about a minute before returning to their own song. It's probable that this particular song was chosen because (1) as a recent international hit it would be both popular and familiar to their multinational concert audience, (2) as a dance-music celebration of dance music itself it was a fitting link to the "disco beat" reference, (3) Chris and Neil must have really liked it. Otherwise they wouldn't have done it.

Tracks in Which Only One of the Boys Was Deeply Involved

I define "deeply involved" to mean co-writing and/or singing lead on the track.

Neil sings the "Introduction" to the album Twentieth-Century Blues, the 1998 Noël Coward tribute and AIDS charity album for which he served as co-executive producer and to which the Boys contributed "Sail Away." Lasting just over a minute, "Introduction" reappears toward the end of the album as the opening (and, in a modified form, the conclusion) of the song "Twentieth-Century Blues" proper, performed by Elton John. The lyrics to the "Introduction" are, in their entirety, "Blues—Twentieth-Century Blues—getting me down."

Getting Away with It (Sumner/Marr/Tennant)   by Electronic

Unlike "Patience of a Saint," Chris wasn't involved in the creation of this Electronic track. A terrific hit single that appears on Electronic's eponymous debut album, "Getting Away with It" features Neil sharing background vocals as well as songwriting duties. (Bernard Sumner sings lead.) The song begs the question implied by its title: just what is it that the narrator has supposedly been "getting away with" all his life? The litany of activities described in the lyrics seems to boil down to the narrator thinking and doing things that only serve to hurt and torment himself. This self-destructive tendancy is most notably manifested in the refrain: "However I look, it's clear to see that I love you more than you love me." But he's not about to give up on it; after all, he has been "getting away with it," so why should he stop? He clearly derives even more pleasure than pain from his behavior. As long as he can keep getting away with it, he'll keep doing it. And, who knows? — Maybe eventually his love will be returned in full.

Neil has provided some fascinating background information: he and Sumner wrote the lyrics from the presumed perspective of former Smiths lead singer (and Marr's former writing partner) Morrissey, suggesting that he's been "getting away with" his "persona of being miserable" for years. (See "Miserablism" for another song with a similar background.) (single: UK #12, US #38)

Disappointed (Sumner/Marr/Tennant)   by Electronic

Neil sings lead on this remarkable song, which he co-wrote with Sumner and Marr. Until late 2006 it was available only as a single and on the soundtrack album for the movie Cool World, but now it also appears on the collection Get the Message: The Best of Electronic. A propulsive, harmonically gorgeous track highlighted by a lush backdrop of synth strings, piano, rhythm guitar, and Neil's own falsetto background vocals, its lyrics concern the tentative feelings of falling in love with someone whom you've slowly come to believe won't ultimately leave you feeling disappointed or disillusioned. (You get the distinct impression that the narrator has been badly hurt in love before.) By the same token, our protagonist is confident that he himself won't disappoint his propective lover.

Neil once told interviewer Randee Dawn that this track was strongly influenced by "Désenchantée," a song by French-Canadian songstress Mylène Farmer. "I met someone and fell in love with him, and we were touring in Europe and kept hearing this record.… [I]t includes the line 'disappointed once again, disenchanted, encore.'" As a result, "Disappointed" is, in Neil's own words, "My little tribute to Mylène Farmer."

Perhaps the most intriguing lines appear in the second verse, when Neil sings, "Listen as you call my name—just one syllable said, then spoken once again." As was pointed out several years ago by someone in a PSB online discussion group, if you take the narrator as Neil himself, this could be interpreted either as Neil hearing someone repeat his name twice or as someone saying to him, "Neil—kneel." I'll leave it to you to consider the possible implications. (single: UK #6)

Do the Right Thing (Lowe/Wright/Kutner)   by Ian Wright

This was Chris's first known songwriting credit outside his partnership with Neil. He co-wrote, produced, and played keyboards on this one-off hip-hop-styled track by U.K. soccer star Ian Wright. (They apparently worked on a follow-up, but nothing came of it, leaving this the sole outcome of their collaboration.)

Although Wright is admittedly an "unprofessional singer," he does a more than passable job of it. Lyrically it's more or less a catalogue of self-help, self-confidence-boosting aphorisms, with a healthy dose of preaching about social responsibility added for good measure. "You have the strength—do the right thing … keep the peace." The title reflects the Boys' well-known fondness for puns: Wright/Right. (single: UK #43)

As reported on the official PSB website, Chris wrote and produced "Blockhead" in 2003 as a short piece of music for use in an advertising campaign for (appropriately enough) Blockhead brand sunscreen products. Within a year that piece of music had been remixed and expanded by DJ/producer James Bright into a track that apparently became a favorite at Ibiza's popular Cafe Mambo dance club. For a while it could be legitimately downloaded free of charge online, but now (as far as I know) it's only available on React Music's 2004 Cafe Mambo CD compilation.

Essentially a "mood piece" instrumental—there are female vocal interjections of the words "life," "freedom," and "escape," among others in English, French, and Spanish, but no real lyrics to speak of—it stylistically belongs to the dance genre known as "Chillout," an oddly relaxing groove that comes across as a hybrid of midtempo disco, trance, and New Age music with tropical/Mediterranean overtones. Considering that it was composed as "ad music," we probably shouldn't read much else into it. Still, it's tempting so say that, once again, it illustrates how Chris may provide the body and soul to Neil's intellect and articulation within the PSB partnership. An oversimplification, to be sure, but perhaps one that carries more than a grain of truth.

*Both the title of the track and the artist are listed as "Blockhead" on the React website. Aside from Chris himself and remixer Bright, the only other performer cited as having been involved with it is the female vocalist, dance music promoter/publicist Nicole Moudaber, who is credited as the performer on the React compilation album.

DJ, producer, and remixer Tom Stephan, who has worked for several years now under the moniker Superchumbo, has the distinction of at one time enjoying a, shall we say, "more than professional" relationship with Neil Tennant. But he has also worked quite professionally with the Pet Shop Boys on more than one occasion, having remixed "Paninaro '95" (in the guise of "Tracy & Sharon"), "New York City Boy," and "Sexy Northerner." So it's not at all surprising that Neil should appear as a guest artist on his album WowieZowie, released in June 2005.

It apparently came as a bit of a surprise, however, to Superchumbo himself. As he related to interviewer Cary James (and as quoted on the Boyz.co.uk website), "I rang Neil up to tell him Samantha Fox was going to be on the album, and he was like. 'Are you going to ask me?' I hadn’t thought of asking him because I probably thought he wouldn’t do it. So I asked him, he said yes…. I sent him some stuff and he called me up and said, 'I’ve got it. Let’s go into the studio and do it.'" And so they did.

Neil sings (and at times speaks) lead on the co-written track "Tranquilizer," with Neil writing the lyrics and melody atop Stephan's backing track. Against a heavily techno-oriented soundscape in which the throbbing rhythm track seems considerably more important than the melody—recall the infamous love-it-or-hate-it Madonna-Björk collaboration "Bedtime Story," only with a pronounced drum-and-bass influence, and you'll get the basic feel of it—Neil spins a rather cryptic, fragmentary tale that's a close cousin to "Somebody Else's Business." (He does seem to exhibit a curious recurring fascination with mentally and/or emotionally distraught women. I could go off on a tangent at this point about how gay artists and even gay men in general often gravitate sympathetically toward such characters, but I would be waltzing deeply and dangerously into the realm of stereotypes.) The lyrics describe a woman who "feels painted into a corner" by some combination of internal and external stress. From the first verse, with its apparent evocation, somewhat profanely expressed, of a post-9/11 world (though the "thunder in July" line puzzles me), the text moves inwardly in the second verse, which refers to "the strangest moods begin to swing." That, in effect, is just another way of saying "mood swings."

The solution to these terrible pressures, someone suggests perhaps offhandedly, is to "take a tranquilizer." Of course, a tranquilizer does nothing to change the horrors of the real world, but it can work wonders in helping a rather fragile person to cope with them. It's difficult to say, however, how Neil actually feels about this. Does he consider tranquilizers a reasonable strategy for survival? Or are they merely a means of burying one's head in the proverbial sand and not really dealing with anything? In short, is "taking a traquilizer" good advice or bad? Always the clever, thoughtful lyricist, Neil refuses to take an indisputable stand; he leaves it up to us to ponder and decide for ourselves.

American playwright Martin Sherman's 1978 drama Bent was among the first artistic productions of any type to deal with the Nazi persecution of gay men in 1930s Germany. The 1997 film adaptation (starring Clive Owen and featuring Ian McKellan in a comparatively small but important role) included a new song, "Streets of Berlin," with lyrics by Sherman himself and music by the famed composer Philip Glass. But for a new London stage production, set to debut in September 2006, director Daniel Kramer contacted the Pet Shop Boys about composing entirely new music for the song. However, as the official Pet Shop Boys website so aptly put it, Neil was already himself "ironically in the streets of Berlin working on Rufus Wainwright's new album," for which he was serving in a sort of "consulting producer" capacity. So Chris decided to write the music by himself in early August 2006.

In the 1997 film, the original song with Glass's melody is set in a gay bar and performed by a drag queen portrayed by none other than Mick Jagger! Sherman's lyrics at once offer bitterly ironic (there's that word again!) commentary on several points: the "shadow existence" of gay life of the period, the all-too-often fleeting nature of gay love relationships at the time, and—in a bit of obvious but no less effectively dramatic foreboding—the impending rounding up of homosexuals for deportation to concentration camps:

Streets of Berlin, will you miss me?
Streets of Berlin, do you care?
Streets of Berlin, will you cry out
If I vanish into thin air?

It will be interesting to hear the music that Chris has composed for this period piece. Let's hope it sees some official recorded release so that more than just the West End's theatre patrons this autumn will get to hear it!

As most diehard Pet Shop Boys enthusiasts know, Dainton Connell, aka "The Bear," was the Boys' longtime friend and, for many years, their bodyguard, handler, and personal assistant. He was a frequent presence in their entourage, and he appeared in a number of their music videos: "So Hard," "Was It Worth It?" "A Red Letter Day," and "Somewhere." His sudden death in October 2007 in an automobile accident in Moscow shortly after having taken part in birthday festivities for Chris at a nearby restaurant is one of the most tragic episodes in PSB history.

This strange yet oddly compelling track—released as "It's the Bear" but, according to sources within the PSB organization, more correctly titled "Here Comes the Bear"—is one of the more intriguing legacies of his involvement with the Pet Shop Boys. Dainton and Chris went into the studio in the early 1990s to work on it, perhaps with an eye toward possible single release under Dainton's name. But they must not have felt it worthy since they ultimately shelved it aside from printing a small number of vinyl copies which were then distributed to a few friends and DJs.

It might never have had a public hearing had it not been for Dainton's untimely passing. As it turned out, however, it surfaced in early 2008 as a "bonus tribute" to Dainton on an EP curiously titled B' Jesus Said Paddy by a punkish nine-man band of Arsenal fans called The Riders of the Night. (While most of the EP is by the group, "It's the Bear" is by Dainton and Chris.) Following this, Neil and Chris decided to make a gift of the track and all rights in it to Dainton's widow to do with as she pleases, including exploiting it commercially.

As for the recording itself, frankly, it almost defies description. Something of a hybrid between rave music and what would soon come to be known as "trip hop" or "acid rap," its three chief features are:

• Dainton's intoned utterances, including the title as his self-introduction ("Guess who's in the house—it's the Bear!"); it's not singing, it's not rapping, and while there is some howling, it's more like "spoken asides" than anything else, sometimes delivered in what sounds like a faux Jamaican accent;
• A persistent set of techno keyboard motifs, including a throbbing, eminently danceable synth undercurrent; and
• An assortment of samples, mostly of unknown female singers, that at times, along with a few swatches of piano, lend the track its closest flirtations with melody.

In many ways, it shouldn't work. And, to be sure, fan reactions have been mixed. While it's true that Dainton's premature death grants the recording an air of poignancy that it wouldn't otherwise have, it nevertheless also has a strange appeal that—especially after repeated listenings—makes it grow on you. I personally can't help but think that, had Dainton and Chris decided to release it offic