Look, I’m not gonna tell you Pete Shelley was sexually frustrated. I don’t and didn’t know the guy; how can I say for sure? He sure as hell knew how to capture the feeling in song, though.
The Buzzcocks’ stateside introduction, Singles Going Steady (really a compilation of singles that had been released in the UK in the band’s two previous years of existence), is a statement of how often that frustration was a recurrent theme of Shelley’s work. Listed chronologically, the first track is “Orgasm Addict,” and that right there opens the door for the listener to expect the album to be about the more physical parts of romance, lust and bodies and heat and sweat and everything else. (And, also, about masturbation and sex addiction.)
It’s hard to say that this is an intentional theme of the album, given that this isn’t really a proper album. But sexual and romantic frustration is a recurrent theme of the songs on Singles Going Steady– especially the best ones. Second single “What Do I Get?” makes such frustration explicit in its title question, as contrasted to every statement that precedes it. “Ever Fallen in Love?” tells a case where the love is unrequited. On disc two, “Why Can’t I Touch It?” is quite explicit.
(For the record, Singles Going Steady is arranged such that disc one is the A-sides from their singles before release, and disc two is the B-sides. “Why Can’t I Touch It?” backed “Everybody’s Happy Nowadays.”)
The tension between those desires and their fulfillment seemed to exist constantly in Shelley, as songs like “Just Lust” or the aforementioned “Orgasm Addict” seem to take an eye of distrust or even disgust toward sexual desires and fulfillment. Perhaps what Shelley best captured was the way that angst and ambivalence are perpetual conditions throughout adolescence and young adulthood. (Our article’s title comes from the final track on the album, which I thought was appropriate for the angst and anxiety that permeates the album.)
I wonder how much of that tension has to do with Shelley’s bisexuality. Hedonistic as the late 70s are now in popular memory– the era of “cocaine disco bashes” as Bill Hicks called it– I still can’t imagine it was in any way easy to be bisexual. (Particularly since, though it’s getting better in this regard, our world today, let alone 40 years ago, still often sees bisexuality as an unwillingness to fully come out.) I wonder if Shelley perhaps had some self-loathing about it, and a song like “Orgasm Addict” was directed at himself– maybe he was criticizing his own lust as indiscriminate and excessive. (“You’re making out with schoolkids, winos, and heads of state” doesn’t discriminate by gender– or anything else, really.) “Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve)?” could easily be about a male lover, as the impossibility of an unrequited love in that situation at that time would have been even more pronounced.
I also came to Singles Going Steady as a youth, and perhaps that’s one reason it’s stuck with me. (The other reason, of course, being what a tight and well-crafted set of pop-punk jams these are, but I’ll get to that in a bit.) It was a time where I could identify strongly with those feelings of frustration and alienation. After all, one of the key words in “What Do I Get?” is I— what’s in it for me? Everyone else has their lovers; what do I get? That and “Everybody’s Happy Nowadays” always struck a chord with me– it’s not explicit in the song but I always perceived the titular sentiment as including an unspoken “except me.” Everyone else is falling in love and having sex and being happy; when will I find any of those things? (I don’t think I was an “Orgasm Addict” to the degree of that song’s subject, at least.)
Not all the songs were about sex. The aforementioned “Everybody’s Happy Nowadays” is named after a line in Brave New World, and describes a similarly blissed-out world. “Autonomy” expresses one of the biggest sources of teen angst in its titular need. It’s one of the rare songs written by someone other than Shelley; it’s written by guitarist Steve Diggle, who also wrote A-side “Harmony in My Head.” (Shelley also wrote a few songs in collaboration with another band member or members.) Of course, that doesn’t do much to sell the idea that Shelley had more on his mind than lust and attraction; “Noise Annoys” is probably a better example of that song. (I was going to try “Oh Shit!”, but even that’s about a breakup.)
I haven’t really talked about the music or the sound of the Buzzcocks. Really, they might be the closest descendant to the Ramones among all of the punk bands of the time, with their focus on what were, essentially, pop songs played simple and fast and with tight musicianship; often about the immature and juvenile, but never in a bad way. That musicianship and structure has a lot to do with why the collection has endured: The songs are up-tempo and vital, with a structure that stands the test of time; they don’t overstay their welcome; and they manage to tackle feelings that might be immature but still remain complex and universal. Granted, that also means this article is going to be short, as the music doesn’t lend itself to too much depth of analysis– at least, not that I can offer any better than many others have done it. Most of what I can offer is simply a recommendation to listen and a hearty endorsement that it all still sounds great, forty years later.
I was spurred to write this article in part by Pete Shelley’s death. I hadn’t been planning to write a Year of the Month article on Singles Going Steady, mostly because I had three other articles lined up already. With Shelley’s death, though, I felt it important to do something in commemoration. He was the primary songwriter and creative force behind the Buzzcocks, and this album represents their best of their output, nothing but hit after hit of short, tight punk-pop gems. (Except “Why Can’t I Touch It?”, the odd exception at six and a half minutes long.) They weren’t as well-recognized and their name isn’t as heralded as some of their biggest peers in punk, but they deserve to be, even for an initial run that only lasted four years (and of which this album only covers half). So, if nothing else, consider this my case for them and my nudge to get you to listen.
BTW, my review is based on the original track listing, eight singles and eight B-sides. A 2001 re-release adds four to each side; I can’t say they’re bad, but they’re not as good as the original lineup and slow down the flow of the album for me. I’ve curated a Spotify playlist that just puts together that original track list: