Marcia Hines: DISCOTHEQUE (out now)

 

 

Okay, Marcia, whatever. It's all very well that you would like us to believe this concept album presents an original idea - or that even the quite unoriginal idea for it was yours (when it certainly wasn't) - regardless of such merit (or lack of), I've now "gone" to your Discotheque, and I can safely say there isn't a single reason in the world why anybody else should do the same. Marcia Hines' disco revival, like Idol, is mediocrity trying to fool the consumer with a contrived self-conviction and a flashing neon sign that buzzes, "Buy me!" As your friend, I give you this advice... don't. 

 

It doesn't take a marketing genius to imagine the scene - six or seven suits sitting around a conference table, discussing what they should "do" with Hines' career for the inevitable cash-in on the Idol series. It is noted that over a year ago, Madonna - an aging pop diva - recreated the disco image for the new century with a cutting-edge concept album called "Confessions On A Dancefloor", and that from this same year, Madonna has now entered the Guiness Book Of Records as the highest paid female entertainer in history. Can Marcia be the disco queen? Of course, she can - unlike Madonna, Hines was there when it actually took place. Let's photoshop some disco balls in, style her hair in the Madonna-come-Fawcett style, and even use the same font as the Madonna marketing. And then, let's get Hines to convince us that, despite it being through every fashion mag, teen girlie rag and tabloid bible (for the last year, now), Hines somehow thought of this herself, and is responsible for the trend.

Furthermore, for the leading video, they have chosen to unleash a remake of the disco classic, "Shake Your Groove Thang" - conveniently infamous to modern generations through it's part in Priscilla Queen of the Desert, which, quelle coincidence, just happens to be sweeping the country again as a new stage musical. The Hines team sure thought of something, but it's all on the backs of others.

Add to this, the embarassingly awful performance of one of the album’s other tracks, “Disco Inferno”, for last Monday's verdict show, where Hines seemingly sang to a pre-recorded backing track, and for the choreography (supported by what looked like a bunch of ex NRL cheerleaders, decked out by Supre), again, blatantly stole from Madonna's "Hung Up" bus-stop revival (both videos are located below this article, for a little comparison). The (perhaps somewhat metaphoric) difference is that in Madonna's peformances, she steps out of an actual discoball - Hines dances before a replicated image of one on a screen.

 

Thankfully, the public responded quite harshly, which led Idol producers to come out with a whole range of assurances that Hines was indeed singing live, armed with a bunch of excuses that counted on the public having no understanding of live performance technicalities (because they certainly made no sense to anyone who did). And the reason as to why Hines could jump around with absolutely no consequence to her voice, or even the slightest physical appearance of breathing and strain for the high notes? Well, it's because Marcia is just so... well.... fabulous! Right. Okay. Sure.

But at least this live travesty was amusing to watch - unlike the album, which offers nothing, either way, and offers it for what seems an eternity. With 14 songs on board, Discotheque is unnecessarily long; but, at least it should adequately stretch out the length of the drunken Sunday barbecues in the suburbs, where Hines will find her only chance to make her mark in 2006. I made the terrible mistake of listening to the entire record without making notes, only to realise that relying on my memory alone was clearly going against some natural mechanism within, whereby my entire experience was promptly flushed within 24 hours of my night on an RSL dancefloor with Marcia.

Having returned to Discotheque, pen in hand, I can tell you that the track listing offers no surprises, and neither does the delivery of any of those tracks (I Can't Stand The Rain, Best Of My Love, You Should Be Dancing, bla bla bla). I had already been informed that unlike the musical direction many presumed they would find, the arrangements are less electronic than anticipated, and the stroll down memory lane makes little attempt to bring the sound into this century (a clear divergence from the Madonna way, there, at least). Fearing some tacky tech-disco adventure, this originally seemed a potential plus – but I can now lament that this effort to keep the tracks’ original sound has zero artistic credibility, and was probably just the result of a budget and time constraint that made no room for any electronic production and experimentation to take place. If anything, the arrangements strip the originals down, so that in the end, the whole thing feels like a covers act at a local pub, without the instruments or talent to recreate the sound and spark of that which they are covering.

 

As for the vocals over this bland, cheap arrangement? Hines’ voice, if we are to strike her with her own Idol sword, offers no light and shade, and never extends beyond some sort of sad carricature of what she thinks a Funky Diva™ would sound like. It’s irritating, to say the least – and just when you think it can’t get any worse, who should jump on the disco train, but Hine’s daughter, Deni. Naturally, this offers absolutely nothing – except, of course, for the confirmation that whatever Deni Hines was (for about 15 minutes, way back when she did her little dance on Pyrmont bridge), she certainly isn’t it, anymore. “Sure, mum, I’d love to feature on your album – it’s the only gig I’ve had in I don’t remember how long!”

And so, in the end, one has to ask, what is the point? Either you revamp the era with a modern sound, or you celebrate the greatness of what was. Hines chooses the later, but fails - not only to enhance or remind us of the greatness of the disco era, but in being anywhere near as great. And I don’t even like Disco. But there are a hundred compilations out there of the originals these stem from, for a third of the price, on the tables of white-trash bargain stores. They’re not only much better value – they’re a better listen. If you’re looking for a disco revival in your living room, this weekend, I recommend stearing clear of Miss Hines in your local Sanity, and instead, head straight to your nearest Go-Lo.

Marcia Hines? You didn’t do so well, darlin’.

 

And from the real queen of the dancefloor.....