So my wife and I were having drinks in a new local favorite recently and it’s the kind of place where they usually do their Spotify or Pandora by the decade. The first night we were there it was all ’90s music (no Grunge, though, more like that Top 40 Cali stuff like No Doubt and Sugar Ray). This particular night it was all ’80s music like Tears For Fears, Duran Duran, Human League, etc. And then this song came on:
And I said “well, that one snuck in there because it’s clearly from the ’60s.” And my wife, who is an ’80s music connoisseur par excellence, said “Are you sure? I think it is from the ’80s actually.” So, doubting Thomas that I am. I looked it up on one of those music sensing apps, Soundhound in this case, before the song had ended and damn if she wasn’t right (again). It’s “Golden Brown” by the Stranglers from 1981. On the rare occasions I’ve heard this tune before I’ve always been of the firm belief that it was a lost gem from the psychedelic era, something that should have been included on those voluminous Nuggets collections.
The sort of queasy harpsichord, the druggy subject matter (it’s about heroin!) and the Donovan-like vocal delivery just screams 1960s to me. But it ain’t so and my wife should know. I also had the gnawing feeling that I’d heard it before in another context. And dang if it isn’t right smack in the middle of one of the best scenes in Guy Ritchie’s best film, Snatch, perfectly paying off the ill-fated Gorgeous George’s bare knuckle fight with Mickey the Pikey.
The Stranglers have a mixed critical reputation to say the least, as they made a rather calculated journey from Punk to artier New Wave fare and were inveterate put-on artists. But if they had only recorded “Golden Brown” this beautifully constructed trippy little masterpiece would be enough to hang their hats on even if it turned out they were only aping ’60s nostalgia for their own amusement. Sometimes songs from one era really do capture the feel of another one nearly completely. For me at least, “Golden Brown” is one of those rare times. Glad I didn’t bet anything more than picking up the dinner tab against my wife’s expert ’80s ear.
