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7 INCH VS-723: LOUISE
- 7 INCH EDIT (4.54)/THE SIGN - EXTENDED REMIX - (VERSION)(5.10)
7 INCH PICTURE DISC VSY-723:
LOUISE - 7 INCH EDIT (4.54)/THE
SIGN - EXTENDED REMIX - (VERSION)(5.10)
12 INCH VS-723-12 (SOME
COPIES WITH FREE POSTER): LOUISE
- 7 INCH EDIT (4.54)/THE SIGN - EXTENDED REMIX - (VERSION)(5.10)
Louise
Part One
In many ways, Louise is
the sequel to Don't You Want Me. Lyrically, it's not only
another storytelling song, but - as Philip Oakey revealed
in an interview -
it actually *is* about the same pair of protagonists, having
a chance encounter in a bus station many years down the line.
In this lies the key to what Philip Oakey really intends the
song to say, for Louise is easily misunderstood. To the casual
listener, the song sounds like a heartwarming, hopeful tale
of former
lovers who may be on the verge of a reconciliation.
 But
remember the situation in Don't You Want Me: the woman striking
out alone because she needs her
independence, and her lover who just cannot accept that she
will survive without him. In Louise, this man sees his lost
love again and still cannot deal
with reality. The anger that drove the earlier song has dissipated,
and is replaced with a hopeful fantasy
that his ex-lover is drawn to him all over again. So Louise
is really about self-deception, as this interview extract
confirms:
 Philip
Oakey: "It's about
men thinking they can manipulate women when they can't, even
conning themselves that they have when they haven't."
Joanne Catherall: "It
was about that moment in time when a bloke sees his past love."
Philip: "In the last
verse, the guy meets the girl 15 years later and still totally
misunderstands everything. He still hasn't caught on."
Joanne; "She gives
him that smile and he thinks he's back in there."
Philip: "It's not
as crass as THAT, thank you! She's been indulgent and kind
when she smiles, but he believes she still thinks he's wonderful.
He's never ever understood. Like most men, because we're a
right load of berks."
This layering
to the song - superficially about one thing but really containing
another meaning - marks Louise out as one of Oakey's most
literary lyrics
(Tennyson and Browning did something similar in their dramatic
monolgues - okay, so it's not a monologue,
but I have to have fun with my education once in a while!).
 The
literariness of the lyrics is reflected in the (rather brilliant)
video, which casts Oakey as a poet on a canal boat, his floating
home piled so high with
books of poetry he's written about his lost love, that it's
a wonder it stays afloat.
The video also cleverly caters for both readings of the lyric.
So we have Joanne Catherall and Philip Oakey acting out the
song's real intent (she attaches
notes saying "I HAVE left you" to the volumes of
poetry that Philip sends, although the fact that she seems
to - eccentrically - live on a bus marks her out
as a perfect match for her canalboat-bound poetic stalker).
It is left to Adrian Wright
and Susan Sulley to act out the song's superficial hopefulness.
Adrian, driving along in his car (complete with knowingly
naff
"ME" and "LOUISE" windscreen stickers),
swerves to a halt upon seeing Susan strolling canalside in
the
company of new boyfriend (boo! hiss!) bemulleted Ian Burden.
She casts Adrian a troubled look, filled with
confusion and longing. Yes, I think she does want him back,
the fantasy has come true...
So, the video is a tour-de-force (I haven't even mentioned
the bus coming to a halt on the bridge over the canal by means
of a dangerous - tut, tut -
180-degree spin, or Philip and Joanne bathing fully clothed
aboard Joanne's bus, or Adrian's car rolling into the canal
- careless! You'll remember the
handbrake in future Mr Wright!) but alas this may have been
in part to compensate for the record itself.
 For
Louise is a first-class song, there is no doubting that (Secrets
Online Score of 10/10) - let down by its
production. On some days I think it is beautifully stark,
but more often it sounds dour and unexciting,
the only fun to be had being that the League spent over a
year in a *very* expensive studio recording anlbum, on which
the track with the strongest
commercial potential is hobbled by the fact that it sounds
like it was recorded on a four track in someone's garden shed.
 In
a way, this lack of pazzazz matches the changed setting in
which the protagonaists find themselves.
Where Don't You Want Me is all glamour, a world of cocktail
bars, revenge and stardom, Louise inhabits a
more mundane world of bus stations, people growing older,
anger replaced by wistfulness, and coffee drunk
in greasy spoon cafes (where Don't You Want Me would have
an elegant glass with an umbrella, a cherry and a
slice of lime, Louise no doubt offers a polystyrene cup).
But the muted feel saps the song of the pop drama that could
have made it a worldwide smash. Perhaps disappointment both
in Louise's realisation on record
and in its chart performance is at the root of the band's
seeming ambivalence towards one of their most accomplished
songs (they never play it live).
 The
ballad-like (in the old sense of the word) vocal is accompanied
by electric piano-style chords (another
similarity to Don't You Want Me), all underpinned byan insanely
catchy lolloping bassline, and adorned by
a beautiful brass solo (played on a synth, natch!) -
the only point at which the song, as recorded, really sounds
as rich and lush as The League's Rushent-steered output. As
with Mirror Man and Life
On Your Own, Louise is influenced by classic soul (think Atlantic
Soul Classics).
Overall, then,
taking into account both song and production, Louise receives
(with - appropriately - some regret) a Secret's
Online Score of 7/10.
Louise Part 2
Review © Angus Tindle 2002
- screen grabs kindly provided by Tony B
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