Danny Wilson, the Dundee Dan, as beguiling and even more bemusing than their memory.
Release Date: 11th April 2025
Label: Cherry Red
Format: Clamshell CD set
DANNY THE EARLIER
No, not the Champions of the World Danny (George) Wilson, this is the earlier purlieu of the name. The Mary’s Prayer Danny Wilson, a song many can sing, even if they forget the band. For it is/was, a band, with none of the trio even called that name. Named after the lead in a largely otherwise forgotten Frank Sinatra film, Meet Danny Wilson, they had had to change the original band name, Spencer Tracy, after the real Spencer Tracy complained.
Dial back to 1984 and the world was a different place, as musically all over the place as almost any time, before or since, styles and fashions running amok in a bid, any bid, to gain traction. Originally from Dundee, Gary Clark and Ged Grimes, moved to London and moved straight back, discovering that it was Scotland that talent scouts were interested in; Postcard Records were still active, if past their heyday. Soulboys, their metier, once joined by Clark’s kid brother, Kit, they became a potent kitchen sink of styles and influences. Soul, jazz and latin tropes were as much part of their mix as inventive and catchy tunes, yet willing also to embrace off-kilter and left-field ideas from elsewhere.
INFLUENCES
Steely Dan were clearly an influence, as was Diamond Dogs era Bowie, not least in Clark’s heavily echoed vocal croon. Typically, for the ’80s, the studio was as much an instrument as anything else, with wide-screen production spreading the sound across a still wider range of diverse source aspects, bringing in, as and where appropriate, additional musicians to satisfy the requirements of each particular song.
With Clark senior initially writing all their songs, and he tackling most the vocals and guitar parts, Grimes was the bassist, Clark junior was more of a magpie, able and adept across a wide array of instruments, from accordion and keyboards, to saxophone and tuned percussion. Signed to Virgin Records, their debut, named, like the film, Meet Danny Wilson, set an immediate high bar, buoyed by the worldwide success of the front end single, Mary’s Prayer. (To be fair, it bombed in the UK at first, becomung then a surprise hit stateside, on the back of a tour supporting Simply Red, Virgin having to re-release it three times over here, before it eventually bit, hitting an eventual #3 spot.)
INTO THE TOP 30
Second album, Bebop Moptop, followed a year later, in 1988, the songwriting now spread out a little wider, if still mainly in the hands of the elder Clark. It too produced a Top 30 single, the markedly different The Second Summer of Love, but little else of the increasingly varied output cut much chart action. Despite having more than enough stored material for more, collective frustrations meant that the band elected to throw in the towel, and that was that.
Gary Clark moved on, via a short-lived solo career, into being principally a songwriting gun for hire, Grimes to playing bass with Simple Minds, after a similar role in Deacon Blue, and Kit Clark to intermittent band and solo work. This 5 CD set includes each of those albums, along with an extensive array of B sides, different edits and alternate mixes, across 2 discs, and, finally, a live set from, largely, The Town & Country Club in 1989.
DISC 1 : MEET DANNY WILSON (1987)
At the time this was bought on the strength of that single and, possibly like many, I found it difficult to love, once it, track 3, was out the way. This renewed acquaintance allows a greater perspective. Opener, Davy, is, in hindsight, a better introduction to the band and any signature style, the harmonica intro and ding-dong ding-dong keyboard motif, followed by Clark’s on the verge of histrionic vocals, immediately setting out their sophisti-pop stall, pitched midway between Steely Dan and The Associates. Aberdeen, a rare love song to the Granite City, then shows their aptitude in filling up a Fairlight with sounds, and then to then spread them thickly across any arrangement: brass, strings, tuned percussion, all there somewhere.
NEVER MORE 80s
Mary’s Prayer, for all of its never more 80s production, has lasted surprisingly well, stil capable of raising goosebumps across the decades. Moving on from where I had previously provem loath to tread, there is much to love, as the trio embrace the freedoms then offered. Yes, I am not so keen on the evident love for musical theatre and Broadway, with songs like Steamtrain To The Milky Way and You Remain An Angel, but I now am more drawn to Lorraine Parade and to the quirky bossa nova beat of Nothing Goes to Plan. But I now fully get Ruby’s Golden Wedding, a fabulous concoction that mixes Brecht and Weill with the New Orleans brass of Lester Bowie’s Brass Fantasy.
Elsewhere, A Girl I Used To Know, which failed as a single, is an exuberant re-run, faster and with more welly, of the Mary’s Prayer, template, becoming a latterday favourite. It and the uber-Dan sheen of Five Friendly Aliens make for a thoroughly upbeat and surprisingly strong end to the album, provided you skip the schmalzy flitterbegibbet of I Won’t Be Here When You Get Back.
DISC 2 : BEBOP MOPTOP (1989)
Disclaimer, I loathed the single, The Second Summer Of Love, seeing that as sufficient reason to never pick up on this second release. Hindsight shows me I was wrong, as there is much to engage with, most of which is broadly of the style expected: angsty vocals, strident piano parts and prominent bass, plus whatever other sounds and instruments could be borrowed and banged.
Hang on in past the first part of Imaginary Girl, through the stagey intro, and it becomes quite a bouncy amalgam of 10 c.c and, again, Steely Dan, auguring well. Forgive me if I still skip Second Summer, the lyric still having me squirm, and head for the third song, a first Grimes and Kit Clark composition, I Can’t Wait, and it is a belter. Sung by Kit, it is a a post punk new wave piano led construction that could hail easily from Elvis Costello or, maybe even more so, Joe Jackson. A little unexpected treasure, it is followed by the Stevie Wonderisms of If You Really Love Me (Let Me Go) and the nu-soul of If Everything You Said Was True. Loneliness slips back a little, as, whilst a sinuously slinky piano ballad, I can’t get the idea of a West Ended David Essex out of my ear.
INROADS INTO R’N’B
I Was Wrong and Charlie Boy take further their inroads into R’n’B, , becoming an increasingly integral part of the whole. The funky bass and choppy guitars of the latter are impressive, as is the drum pattern, even if it smacks more of machine than man. Never Gonna Be The Same then slips back into the mood and pattern of the first album, almost a little too self-consciously, as does Desert Hearts, it coming a surprise that it was written by Ali Thomson. (Write us a song in the style of Mary’s Prayer, Ali?) The brief oddness of N.Y.C. Shanty, with oompah brass and accordion, and two final songs close the disc, each reprising the core signature of the DW soundplate just a little too closely.
Actually, as a stand alone record it is perfectly presentable, with some fine cuts, but I am just not sure whether a casual listener would need both of them. One or the other being sufficient ( which explains, possibly, the availability of the posthumous Sweet Danny Wilson compilation). But, wouldn’t you be reading this, were you just casual, would you, not least with the three further discs?
DISC 3 : B SIDES, EDITS, MIXES
This is where it gets either interesting or supernumerary. Too many box set retrospectives hoover up a little too much detritus from the cutting room floor; Cherry Red have the reputations of at least making them relevant, and this is certainly that, as well as being entertaining, surmising the various blind alleys the band started on, as they made their way.
LATIN INFLUENCES
This starts off with I Won’t Forget, a Kit song, where he also lends his version of the Clark voice, a very similar instrument, his melody progressions not so distant from his elder brother either. Pleasure To Pleasure then takes their Latin influences off into another direction, a slow and smoky samba, with prominent marimba. I like this one, as I do Monkey’s Shiny day, a paradoxical pot-pourri of pedal steel and brass. the latter, via Lester Bowie’s ensemble once more, gives an enticing hint of ska. The pedal steel remains front line for Mary’s Prairie, geddit, an earlier and slightly country version of Mary’s Prayer, which is every bit as intriguing as it should be.
Kathleen (House mix) is a slow piano blues, with a hint of Cabaret, Bob Fosse and all that, and, as such, as far from Chicago basements as can be. Oddly unlike Living To Learn, which, with its squelches of electronica, comes over all like Heaven 17, even down to the stentorian vocal chorus. And, whilst vocals are being discussed, my earlier conviction that Gary Clark holds high the vocal candle of David Bowie, a version of Kooks, from Hunkydory, now squares that, singing it how the writer may have sung it, strung out in Berlin. Sadly, the next song, another cover, is Get Happy, and I couldn’t, despite the apparent enthusiasm from all concerned.
PRINCE? ABBA? QUEEN?
Next up, I’ll Be waiting, really is a surprise, a direct and overt nod to Prince, that apes his style admirably and convincingly, adding some DW trademark marimba also to the wash. It’s great, another winner tucked away on a B side. Less successful is an anticipated Abba/Queen amalgam, which, the cheesy but good cheesy guitar solo aside, is to sickly sentimental.
The actor from Meet Danny Wilson, the film, then has one of his songs covered, and this too is a winner. The Lonesome Road, it is called, and sounds actually more like Roger “King of the Road” Miller. Uncertain whether it is one of the Clarks singing, it is a striking contrast with usual timbres, and uses (possibly the same) brass (from Get Happy) to great effect. Messy, muddy and conversely magical, leaving only room for a single version and a radio edit of two songs from earlier discs, neither deviating much from their parent.
DISC FOUR : B SIDES, EDITS, MIXES
Where the disc before was predominantly songs not included elsewhere, this is largely alternate versions of re-mixes. This includes the fabled Strepzil Logic EP, surely a nod to Mssrs. Becker and Fagen of Steely Dan, and some demos.
The differences between the original and US remix of A Girl I Used to Know are not all that apparent, but the remix of Mary’s Prayer, buffed and polished for the third and ultimately the successful UK top five chart release, does show some extra sheen about the edges, courtesy a new production, from the team involved with Swing Out Sister. The Bix remix, however, of Nothing Goes To Plan, is a revelation. a mix of synthetic squelches and jazz club, with string bass and pedal steel. For me, way superior to the version that made the final cut.
INCIPIENT CHARM
Aberdeen is the first from the Strepzil Logic 12″, and ditches the majority of oversampled Fairlight for some kitschy drum programming and a nightclub horn section. It’s strange, but I actually prefer it. The new waveisms of I Can’t Wait then get the same polish as did Mary’s Prayer, the song now oozing a more retro feel, with even Beach Boys style harmonies creeping in to later verses. The USA felt that If You Love Me (Let Me Go) was single material, if worked appropriately. If that means adding an intrusively thumping drumbeat, and making it sound like Lionel Richie, well, thems the breaks. (It wasn’t a hit.)
From A Boy To A Man was the last song the band ever recorded as a unit. In this remix, it is a tad overwrought to my ears, and a little formulaic, perhaps a pointer to where the third LP might have gone. Going way back to the beginning feels a better direction of flow, the early demo versions of Monkey’s Shiny Day, Steamtrain To The Milky Way and Broken China all exhbiting incipient charm, as they learnt to make full use of the studio. Backing vocals from Alison Burns, the jazz singer, add lustre to the first, and there is a wonderfully economical saxophone solo on the second.
THE DAN COMPARISONS
A couple of otherwise unheard demos follow, portastudio recordings, and, as such, essentially stripped back to the basics of trio and, I think, drum machine. A Fragile World has all the features that evoke the Dan comparisons, even with a searing guitar solo, whereas St. Jude, later to appear on Gary Clark’s later solo recording, Ten Songs About Love, is a proto-gospel soul singalong. Finally, to close, comes the early version of Second Summer Of Love, which is actually far more appealing, an almost skiffle version of handclaps and mandolins, so worth the including, if only for curmudgeons like me.
DISC FIVE : LIVE
There’s always a live disc with Cherry Red. Mindful my copy of the Sweet Danny Wilson compilation included some live, a quick check reveals this is from the same show, albeit expanded, thirteen tracks over the then released six. So we get the opening and an impassioned “How the hell are you“, before they break into Never Going To Be The Same. Inevitably somewhat stripped back, it makes more sense without the (over)production. Live, the instrumentation seems just more available and accessible.
To allow for any semblance of the originals, clearly there is augmentation of the trio, and they haul in as many multi-instrumentalists as they need, which is both fewer than you think and more than you expect. Hence Bobby Clarke and Karlos Edwards provide drums and percussion, with Edwards also adding backing vocals and extra keys. Gary Thomson also plays keyboards, but was the main horn player, on trumpet and flugelhorn, along with Chris Marra on guitars, steel, tuba(!) and harmonica, each veterans of the earlier touring and studio band. Of the core band, Grimes provides basses, synth, percussion and vocals, Gary Clark guitar, piano and vocals, with Kit on keys,accordion, sax, harmonica and a rack of ornate percussion items. And vocals. Phew!
A GLORIOUS COVER
All benefit from this looseness. but it is the previously unheard selections that shine the most, especially Davy and Lorraine Parade, which quenches some of the earlier excesses. Delightfully, the glorious cover of Knowing Me, Knowing You is included, where the Abba staple is all OTT grand guignol, and is one of the few Abba covers I can handle. As the build come toward Mary’s Prayer, the exhilaration of the song is palpable, the shift from studio to stage surprisingly straightforward. Loneliness, as the closer, makes more sense, and David Essex becomes a more distant memory, the song more in context with the surroundings, if threatening to go overboard as it builds to finale.
HOMETOWN GIG
Tacked on to this concert come a further pair of tracks, a 1980 Dundee hometown gig version of The Second Summer Of Love, which is even more ramshackle than the early demo version, all the even better, fooling me into thinking I quite like the song. The last song, from a TV special, picks up a performance from the earliest version of Danny Wilson, a fairground-y I Don’t Know Who I Am, with tuba from, naturally, Marra. It is there more, I feel, for completion and contrast, and must have confused the then audience no little, the TV show being called The Scottish Soul Sound of Danny Wilson.
All in all, this is a good set, and manages to confound some of the earlier misgivings mentioned. Cherry Red have, as ever, packaged it well, with an extensive booklet, with comments from the band surrounding each and every selection, adding to an intelligible picture being drawn from what sounded a madcap ride. Heady days, missed and remembered equally.
Here’s some shaky TOTP footage of Mary’s Prayer:
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