I remember the first time I heard Band Aid. It was 1984. I was in my final year of high school, driving around in my underpowered '79 Mustang with its overpowered stereo amp, when "Do They Know It's Christmas" came on the radio. I'd never heard anything quite like it. I'm not just talking about the concept of a bunch of rock bands collaborating on a single tune, though that was impressive as well. The music, thrown together by Boomtown Rat Bob Geldof and Ultravox's Midge Ure, was really quite striking. Perhaps it was the churchbell-clang in the intro, or the earnest, simplistic up-down pulse of the drum-machine pattern, or the resolute throb of the mid-tempo keyboard rhythm beneath it all. Whatever it was, no other song had ever assembled these elements in quite the same way. More importantly, very few songs had so actively strived to kill everyone's holiday buzz...
"Enjoying your Christmas? Well, there are people dying in Africa and you're not doing anything to help them. Why not have another piece of roast turkey, you greedy bastard?"
Of course, when you take a close look at it, it's all a bit silly. That's okay. The concept of getting a bunch of well-known artists into a studio to record a single song in the space of twenty-four hours, and convincing/peer pressuring them to donate their time and royalties to a charitable cause, was ground-breaking in 1984. In 2002, of course, the record could be done in half the time (for twenty times the money) via the miracle of ISDN patches, but in 1984 all of the artists involved -- except for a few really high-profile folks -- actually had to drag their asses down to the recording studio. You can see them all on the record sleeve photo. Wow, look at the hair!
The talent involved is impressive, if purely from a logistical standpoint. You've got members of U2, Duran Duran, the Style Council, the Boomtown Rats, Bananarama, Heaven 17, Ultravox, Big Country, Culture Club and Spandau Ballet, plus Jody Watley, George Michael, Sting and Phil Collins. It's rather astonishing how many of these people are still working today; only a few, like gender-bending also-ran Marilyn, have faded into obscurity.
Imagine scheduling all of these people into a studio. Imagine divvying up the vocals, setting up the microphones, checking all the levels and doing all the other essential studio jiggery-pokery. Imagine telling Bono and Sting that Duran Duran's Simon LeBon was going to get a lot of the "good bits" of the lead vocal. For that matter, imagine fitting all of those rock star egos into a single building. It's a wonder that the song was recorded at all.
Yes, the lyrics are trite, and occasionally a little ill-considered. For example, at the end of the second "verse", after we're made aware of the fact that there are people suffering all over the world, we're advised, "Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you." Stop there and you'll leave with entirely the wrong message. The song's argument is thorough but plodding. In the first verse, we're reminded that it's Christmas -- y'know, just in case you've recently come out of a coma and none of the thousands of other decorations have clued you in. In the second, we're reminded that the prosperity we experience at the holidays isn't worldwide; people are suffering and dying in the Third World and all those other impoverished bits of the globe. The guilt is piled on for a few more minutes, and then the solution is presented: Feed the World.
If this seems meaningless to you, consider how many punk rock songs address society's ills, and how few of those songs actually offer a solution. "Do They Know It's Christmas", an insipid pop tune recorded it roughly the amount of time it takes Radiohead to lay down a click track, does. True, "Feed the World" is a pretty vague goal, but the song's mantra-like repetition of the phrase lodged it in millions of heads. If just one in every thousand listeners, after tunelessly singing "Feed the World" for a couple of weeks, decides to give a little money to a hunger-relief charity, good is done. If one in a million listeners is inspired to get even more involved, that's even better. The message and its underlying "global village" sentiment is timeless -- as valid and important eighteen years down the road as it was in 1984.
Activism aside, there's something charming, even naive, about "Do They Know It's Christmas". Perhaps it's the simple fact that the tune is so gloriously ad hoc. Don't believe me? Listen to the 12" Mix. Check out the lengthy middle bit where the performers, including long-distance supporters David Bowie, Paul McCartney and Frankie Goes to Hollywood's Holly Johnson, deliver spoken holiday messages. Few of them have anything particularly enlightening to say beyond standard holiday greetings; McCartney, in particular, clowns embarrassingly, and Big Country's Stewart Adamson reminds us to "Feed the people. Stay alive!" in a brogue so comically thick that it still makes me laugh. David Bowie delivers a stern and sobering message about world hunger, and Bob Geldof (eventually Sir Bob) puts a time stamp on the whole thing: "This record was recorded on the 25th of November 1984. It's now 8:00 a.m. in morning of the 26th and I think it's time we went home. So from me, Bob Geldof, and Midge (Ure), we'd say good morning to you all and a million thanks to everyone on the record. Have a lovely Christmas. Bye." On cue, a huge drum breakdown and four-count leads into a final minute of refrain, and you're left thinking, "Bye? What's Sir Bob doing -- leaving a voice mail message?" It's a moment of startling amateurishness on a chart-topping record -- quite wonderful, really.
"Do They Know It's Christmas" had a few not-so-nice side-effects. As a result of Band Aid's success, the world was subjected to countless imitators, Bob Geldof set off down the road to knighthood and mania, and U2's Bono Vox was inspired to ape Geldof's Socially Conscious Rock Star shtick -- the seeds of Bono the Pompous, Self-Important Prat were sown here. But the song, despite a brief period of unfashionability, has endured as a supreme artifact of the eighties' high-tech naivete. You couldn't make "Do They Know It's Christmas" in 2002; you'd be hard-pressed to find 30-odd socially conscious, politically correct rock stars who'll even admit to celebrating Christmas. It's a shame, really.
-- George Zahora
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