‘Here, take this, if you can guess who’s on it I’ll give you some more freebies next week.’ Paraphrasing but you get the gist. Jonathan presses a 12 inch white label in a plain inner sleeve into my hands. The Cheshire cat grins on the faces of the rest of the Jumbo Records crew suggest I’m never going to guess and, indeed, I don’t.
Still, it’s a great tune and the guitar is very Chic. In my mind it’s ok to like Chic as I’d read somewhere Orange Juice were a mixture of The Velvets and Chic. I was that shallow back then. I play it on repeat all week.
Fast forward to the next Thursday evening. I’d long since left school but had, by and large, kept the ritual of going to Jumbo every Thursday. Probably something to do with Sounds and the NME coming out on a Weds. Football permitting, I spent a lot of time on a Saturday in there too.
‘Nile Rodger’s?’
‘Not a bad guess but no.’
‘Go on then.’
‘Fuck off, guess again.’
‘ I don’t know anymore guitarists play like that.’
‘You do.’
‘I don’t.’
‘I’m disappointed.’
‘Go on then, who?’
‘Johnny Marr.’
‘What?’
‘Good isn’t it?’
So there you go funksters.
Somehow or other I don’t think it ever troubled the charts.
