Next time you’re having a wee night in – just you, a bottle of whatever and a pile of 7″ singles – make sure you take the time to flip Dexys’ Geno over (we’ve all got it, right?) to its b-side. There, you’ll find a real breakneck run-through of The Bandwagon‘s Breaking Down The Walls Of Heartache that’ll be sure to have you returning the needle right back to the start again before your feet have stopped moving, even if you don’t quite remember when they started.
But first, the history.
The Bandwagon – Breakin’ Down The Walls Of Heartache
I had it my head that Breakin’ Down The Walls Of Heartache was an obscure curio from the northern soul scene, a cover-up record that eluded every ace face from Wigan Casino to the Twisted Wheel, but I couldn’t be more wrong. Breakin’ Down the Walls… was a number 4 hit for The Bandwagon…or Johnny Johnson and The Bandwagon…or Johnny and The Bandwagon, depending on which label you’re reading the info from.
1968, lest you need reminded, was chock-full of massive-selling singles, singles that are, thanks to their ubiquity and staying power, instantly whistleable all these years later. Delilah. Hey Jude. Jumpin’ Jack Flash. Everlasting Love. Those Were The Days. Young Girl. It’s a varied and familiar list, and somewhere on it – lower down, but still notably present – is Breakin’ Down The Walls Of Heartache. You had to sell an awful lot of records back then to even dent the lower reaches of the charts, yet Breakin’ Down The Walls… is officially a silver record, with sales of over a quarter of a million in the UK. A trainspotter’s delight with added snob appeal this ain’t.
It’s a brilliant record.
A poundin’ pianer, a wet slap of guitar, an ellipsis of brass, a solid four to the floor beat. All that within the first few seconds would have it marked ‘banger’ these days. Add in Johnson’s requisite soulful vocal; pain, tears, the sound of gargled gravel, and the coo-ing and whoo-ing backing vocals and really, you’ve all you need.
I like that the vocals on the chorus drop rather than rise. Makes you listen. Draws you in. Makes you feel the protagonist’s undeniable pain. He’s a carpenter of love and affection, baby, wanting to build you a house of love. Oh yeah.
Extra points for the squeaky keyboard break that leads into the refrain. Over and out in two and a half, talc-dusted, Oxford-bagged minutes. Popular chart hit asides, I bet they loved this down the Twisted Wheel.
Wisely, Dexys take a reverent, if speedy, approach to their version:
Dexys Midnight Runners – Breaking Down The Walls Of Heartache
Why mess with the recipe? It’s tailor-made for the Dexys of 1980 – pun entirely intended. Kevin Rowland tumbles himself straight outta the nothern soul scene and, still hopped up on last night’s Purple Hearts or Black Bombers or, indeed, Dexies, records a faithful remake, all nasally, hiccupping vocals hotwired to an electric, amphetamine rush.
The backing vocals sing in high-high falsetto. The drummer sprints to the finish like it’s his last stand. The brass section, the poor, asthmatic wheezers, break into a slick, fevered sweat just to keep up with it all, half a beat behind or half a beat in front of the rest of the group, double-guessing the changes, never quite sure of where to go next, catching breath briefly on the long trombone slides before blowing hard to the finish in a brassy rush of temple-bursting giddiness.
A beauty, eh?
Just one thing, though, Kevin. For a man obsessed with detail, it’s unforgiveable that you dropped the apostrophe on Breakin’ for the far more conformist and squarer Breaking. A minor point, but an important one, I feel.
