Sit down, I've got something to tell
you.MAN 2 MAN
Dead Or Alive - Mad, Bad And Dangerous To Know (Epic)
Sit down, I've got something to tell
you.
I know this is going to come as something of a shock, but 'Mad, Bad And Dangerous To Know' sounds exactly like the last Dead Or Alive record that b.p.emmed its way through your living room.
With Sylvester on the verge of retirement and spud-u-like, Jimmy Somerville shunning HiNRG for politics and grand piano, the way is clear for a new queen of sequenced sauce to take the stage. Pete Burns is man enough to take it on. Of course, the relentless rhythm tracks are neither here nor there. All that's required are the barest bones of a tune and some knowingly camp chatter about empty beds and broken hearts and dreams gone up is smoke.
And I'm happy enough with that. For Pete Burns and his glamorous disco machine have never ever treatened to re-write musical history. That was never the intention. The substance and the point is in the bare-faced cheek of it all, and the way young Peter drags the remains of Giorgio Moroder and The Village People through his own 78rpm Carry On soundtrack.
Perhaps the sleeve should have shown a lavatory seat or an early '60s shot of Charles Hawtrey. Instead we have to make do with an airbrushed gothic monstrosity which sees Pete black-eyes and (surprise, surprise) pouting; standing on the beach of hell waiting for his boat to come in. But when the needle hits the groove, the illusion is restored. Roll up your trousers and dance to the bum-titty-bum beat of an irresistible 'Brand New Lover'! Chortle helplessly as our cheeky host tells us he's none too keen on others "fooling around with" his "ignition" on 'I'll Save You All My Kisses'! Imagine yourself the star of a black leather western in Pete's remake of Carry On Cowboy. You're the 'Son Of A Gun'! Speed on towards the duelling Spanish guitars of 'Something In My House' where there's "Banging in the bedroom"!
Time after time after time, 'Mad, Bad And Dangerous To Know' is saved by a big mouth, an unimpeachably camp sense of humour and the colossal impudence with which the whole thing is put together. No apologies. No surprises. Just Pocket Money Pop in a rubber mask and spotty boxer shorts. I like it. But then I got it for nothing.
John McCready (NME, 14.02.87)