I’m counting down my 100 favourite songs of all time. To keep this from becoming a Bob Dylan / Tom Waits love-in, only one track per artist is allowed.
Go to 77: Valerie by Mark Ronson feat. Amy Winehouse
Go to 79: Trainspotting by Primal Scream
“If you have an idea, why do you have to make it?”
This statement may shed light on why Canadian singer Mary Margaret O’Hara never followed up her 1988 debut album, Miss America. She’s lazy – like, 30 years and counting lazy.
But it’s not an answer. It’s a question that only leads to more questions. Like, “if you have an idea, why NOT make it?” It’s also hard to take at face value given that O’Hara has also claimed to have recorded hundreds of songs that she has no intention of releasing.
We can believe her when she says that she’s “not into goals”. She definitely lacks the drive of her sister, actress Catherine O’Hara. Probably most famous as the absent-minded mother who screams “KEVVVIIIINNNN” in Home Alone, Catherine is also a highly regarded member of Christopher Guest’s comic ensemble casts for films such as Best in Show and A Mighty Wind. (2022 update: She's now probably most famous for Schitt's Creek.)
It must be easier to have drive when you get to work with a supportive team on a regular basis. Where Catherine has thrived on the comfort and collaboration of a close comedy troupe, Mary Margaret’s experience with the music industry was far from cozy.
In 1976, O’Hara finished art school and joined a Toronto band called Songship. A name-change to Go Deo Chorus coincided with the singer taking on most of the group’s songwriting duties, while her odd stage presence attracted or alienated the city’s live music fans.
After Go Deo Chorus broke up, the band’s drummer and manager decided to shop a demo of O’Hara’s songs to some record labels. A very excited Virgin Records secured a deal then brought her to Wales to record an album. And that’s when things get tricky.
Agony with XTC
By 1983 post-punk band XTC were in dire financial straits. Guitarist and songwriter Andy Partridge’s mental health issues forced them to cancel a US tour, leaving promoters owed £20,000. The band split with manager Ian Reid after discovering a lot of their money was missing and his parting gift was a massive VAT bill.
The subsequent legal battle led to XTC’s label, Virgin, freezing all royalty payments. Not that their royalties represented a lot of money, as the deal Reid had arranged was far more favourable to the manager and label than it was to the group members. In order to pay off debts and legal costs, the band was essentially in servitude to Virgin. As part of this obligation, the label sent Partridge to Wales to produce Mary Margaret O’Hara’s debut album.
He lasted a day. The salacious rumour, reportedly spread by Partridge, was that devout Catholic O’Hara fired Partridge because he was an atheist. Others recall the XTC man’s doubts about the ability of O’Hara’s band and his suggestion to use a drum machine not going down well with the singer.
O’Hara had initially wanted to record with Joe Boyd. But according to the legendary producer of Fairport Convention, Pink Floyd, Nick Drake and R.E.M., Virgin said “they wanted a proper ‘commercial’ production, not a ‘Joe Boyd’ record.” With Partridge out, Boyd was eventually drafted in to help record an album’s worth of music.
Ultimately, O’Hara seemed resistant to giving anyone control of the recording process, saying of Partridge: “I couldn’t have someone between the musicians and myself.” She took the Boyd-produced songs back to Toronto to develop them further. But, through a combination of her poor work ethic and Virgin’s aversion to their artist’s “difficult” material, nothing much happened for four years.
Driving Miss America
Enter Michael Brook, inventor of the infinite sustain guitar used by U2 on With Or Without You. Having seen O’Hara perform live in Toronto and hearing the story of her unfinished album, Brook contacted Virgin and offered to help. In 1988, he got the singer and her band back in the studio to record four songs. He also remixed the existing material and, at last, an album was ready for release.
But was Brook really the hero of the hour? O’Hara would later claim that his co-production credit on the original release of Miss America was overstated. And it’s hard to imagine the man behind a bombastic stadium-filling guitar sound having common ground with O’Hara’s angular and intimate style. When the album was reissued in the mid-2000s, the credits were changed to add the previously-whitewashed Boyd and to downgrade Brook’s involvement.
Whatever he actually did, Brook at least was the one person with enough drive to get the record finished. Without him, O’Hara’s inertia and Virgin’s indifference may have seen the songs stuck in the archive forever. Even now, the singer thinks the record is compromised because the label had the final say on the track listing.
While you always want to side with the artist over the industry, listening to Miss America 30 years later, it’s hard to argue that the label got it wrong. This captivating record is a timeless outpouring of sadness and melancholy whose beauty is ultimately uplifting. It’s also an unfiltered insight into the world of someone who seems to prefer improvised impression to clear communication.
O’Hara’s issues with expression are present in her lyrics, which are full of half-formed sentences and obtuse sentiments. She also didn’t have the language to translate her musical ideas. Bassist David Piltch recalls the band having to work hard to interpret what she wanted from them. For violinist Hugh Marsh, the key was to follow her “real angel’s voice”.
It proved an effective guide. Whether it’s the keening mumbles of When You Know Why You’re Happy, the staccato yelps of Not Be Again or her wordless melodies on the gloriously otherworldly Help Me Lift You Up, O’Hara’s lush voice makes sense of all the record’s over-wrought emotions, discordant music and atypical song structures. Yet on one song, it’s a voice she almost loses altogether.
The body won’t let you
Body’s In Trouble seems innocuous at first. The delay on the opening guitar betrays Brook’s influence and instantly places the sound in the mid-80s. Even the dub-like drum and bass don’t suggest anything too out of the ordinary. But then O’Hara starts singing.
She’s dazed, grasping, paralysed, pushing through the fog of feeling, desperate to initiate action but finding her form is unresponsive and unwilling. Her phrasing is stumbling and uncertain like the words are struggling to come out.
There are uncontrolled shifts in tone, like when the despairing wails of “body’s in trouble” become a perky “who do you talk to?” and then revert to despondency as the latter line is repeated with increasing resignation. By the end, the singer is breathless and sounds utterly overwhelmed. The word “trouble” sticks in her throat and her next go at the line comes out as an anguished howl.
Throughout this emotional rollercoaster, the backing music moves to the fore. A violin slices from melodious to screeching and the guitar manically trembles between notes. But as the song fades out, a degree of calm is restored. All may not yet be well, but at least we’ve pulled back from the brink.
Body’s In Trouble could be interpreted as O’Hara’s struggles with her inability to fully express her creativity, to make her ideas. “Just want to move somebody, but the body won’t let you.” In the song's video, O’Hara flails her arms and punches the air at random, like she's not completely in control of her limbs. She’s talked about how hard it was to film because mimicking her recorded performance of the song was such an alien concept.
Perhaps her impulsive, impressionistic creativity makes creating a definitive recording almost impossible. Maybe her inability to translate ideas into artifacts is less about laziness or lack of drive and more to do with those ideas being fluid notions whose form is continually created and extinguished, not set in wax for posterity.
Her subsequent career includes an acting role in Tom Waits’ stage production, The Black Rider. You sense that the on-the-night performance aspect of live theatre suits her more than the recording studio. Musically, she has contributed to a number of tribute albums and recorded an EP of Christmas standards – pre-existing songs where her interpretation cannot be seen as the final word – and created a soundtrack for an indie film, Apartment Hunting.
When asked why Go Deo Chorus never recorded, O’Hara said: “I didn't want a record around to serve as a statement of what we are…people want to complete the picture for you.”
To the frustration of many fans, including R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe who has begged her to record more songs, Miss America remains Mary Margaret O’Hara’s only major personal artistic statement. Yet rather than wish for more gaps to be filled in, let’s be content that at least some of her ideas became a reality. Even this incomplete picture makes our world a better place.
Follow me on Twitter
If you like this, try:
Help Me Lift You Up
Anew Day
When You Know Why You're Happy
Go to 77: Valerie by Mark Ronson feat. Amy Winehouse
Go to 79: Trainspotting by Primal Scream
Go to 77: Valerie by Mark Ronson feat. Amy Winehouse
Go to 79: Trainspotting by Primal Scream
“If you have an idea, why do you have to make it?”
This statement may shed light on why Canadian singer Mary Margaret O’Hara never followed up her 1988 debut album, Miss America. She’s lazy – like, 30 years and counting lazy.
But it’s not an answer. It’s a question that only leads to more questions. Like, “if you have an idea, why NOT make it?” It’s also hard to take at face value given that O’Hara has also claimed to have recorded hundreds of songs that she has no intention of releasing.
We can believe her when she says that she’s “not into goals”. She definitely lacks the drive of her sister, actress Catherine O’Hara. Probably most famous as the absent-minded mother who screams “KEVVVIIIINNNN” in Home Alone, Catherine is also a highly regarded member of Christopher Guest’s comic ensemble casts for films such as Best in Show and A Mighty Wind. (2022 update: She's now probably most famous for Schitt's Creek.)
It must be easier to have drive when you get to work with a supportive team on a regular basis. Where Catherine has thrived on the comfort and collaboration of a close comedy troupe, Mary Margaret’s experience with the music industry was far from cozy.
In 1976, O’Hara finished art school and joined a Toronto band called Songship. A name-change to Go Deo Chorus coincided with the singer taking on most of the group’s songwriting duties, while her odd stage presence attracted or alienated the city’s live music fans.
After Go Deo Chorus broke up, the band’s drummer and manager decided to shop a demo of O’Hara’s songs to some record labels. A very excited Virgin Records secured a deal then brought her to Wales to record an album. And that’s when things get tricky.
Agony with XTC
By 1983 post-punk band XTC were in dire financial straits. Guitarist and songwriter Andy Partridge’s mental health issues forced them to cancel a US tour, leaving promoters owed £20,000. The band split with manager Ian Reid after discovering a lot of their money was missing and his parting gift was a massive VAT bill.
The subsequent legal battle led to XTC’s label, Virgin, freezing all royalty payments. Not that their royalties represented a lot of money, as the deal Reid had arranged was far more favourable to the manager and label than it was to the group members. In order to pay off debts and legal costs, the band was essentially in servitude to Virgin. As part of this obligation, the label sent Partridge to Wales to produce Mary Margaret O’Hara’s debut album.
He lasted a day. The salacious rumour, reportedly spread by Partridge, was that devout Catholic O’Hara fired Partridge because he was an atheist. Others recall the XTC man’s doubts about the ability of O’Hara’s band and his suggestion to use a drum machine not going down well with the singer.
Ultimately, O’Hara seemed resistant to giving anyone control of the recording process, saying of Partridge: “I couldn’t have someone between the musicians and myself.” She took the Boyd-produced songs back to Toronto to develop them further. But, through a combination of her poor work ethic and Virgin’s aversion to their artist’s “difficult” material, nothing much happened for four years.
Driving Miss America
Enter Michael Brook, inventor of the infinite sustain guitar used by U2 on With Or Without You. Having seen O’Hara perform live in Toronto and hearing the story of her unfinished album, Brook contacted Virgin and offered to help. In 1988, he got the singer and her band back in the studio to record four songs. He also remixed the existing material and, at last, an album was ready for release.
But was Brook really the hero of the hour? O’Hara would later claim that his co-production credit on the original release of Miss America was overstated. And it’s hard to imagine the man behind a bombastic stadium-filling guitar sound having common ground with O’Hara’s angular and intimate style. When the album was reissued in the mid-2000s, the credits were changed to add the previously-whitewashed Boyd and to downgrade Brook’s involvement.
Whatever he actually did, Brook at least was the one person with enough drive to get the record finished. Without him, O’Hara’s inertia and Virgin’s indifference may have seen the songs stuck in the archive forever. Even now, the singer thinks the record is compromised because the label had the final say on the track listing.
While you always want to side with the artist over the industry, listening to Miss America 30 years later, it’s hard to argue that the label got it wrong. This captivating record is a timeless outpouring of sadness and melancholy whose beauty is ultimately uplifting. It’s also an unfiltered insight into the world of someone who seems to prefer improvised impression to clear communication.
O’Hara’s issues with expression are present in her lyrics, which are full of half-formed sentences and obtuse sentiments. She also didn’t have the language to translate her musical ideas. Bassist David Piltch recalls the band having to work hard to interpret what she wanted from them. For violinist Hugh Marsh, the key was to follow her “real angel’s voice”.
It proved an effective guide. Whether it’s the keening mumbles of When You Know Why You’re Happy, the staccato yelps of Not Be Again or her wordless melodies on the gloriously otherworldly Help Me Lift You Up, O’Hara’s lush voice makes sense of all the record’s over-wrought emotions, discordant music and atypical song structures. Yet on one song, it’s a voice she almost loses altogether.
The body won’t let you
Body’s In Trouble seems innocuous at first. The delay on the opening guitar betrays Brook’s influence and instantly places the sound in the mid-80s. Even the dub-like drum and bass don’t suggest anything too out of the ordinary. But then O’Hara starts singing.
"Just want to push somebody – the body won’t let you
Just want to move somebody – the body won’t let you
Just want to feel somebody – the body won’t let you
Ah who, ah who, who do you talk to?"
She’s dazed, grasping, paralysed, pushing through the fog of feeling, desperate to initiate action but finding her form is unresponsive and unwilling. Her phrasing is stumbling and uncertain like the words are struggling to come out.
There are uncontrolled shifts in tone, like when the despairing wails of “body’s in trouble” become a perky “who do you talk to?” and then revert to despondency as the latter line is repeated with increasing resignation. By the end, the singer is breathless and sounds utterly overwhelmed. The word “trouble” sticks in her throat and her next go at the line comes out as an anguished howl.
Body’s In Trouble could be interpreted as O’Hara’s struggles with her inability to fully express her creativity, to make her ideas. “Just want to move somebody, but the body won’t let you.” In the song's video, O’Hara flails her arms and punches the air at random, like she's not completely in control of her limbs. She’s talked about how hard it was to film because mimicking her recorded performance of the song was such an alien concept.
Perhaps her impulsive, impressionistic creativity makes creating a definitive recording almost impossible. Maybe her inability to translate ideas into artifacts is less about laziness or lack of drive and more to do with those ideas being fluid notions whose form is continually created and extinguished, not set in wax for posterity.
Her subsequent career includes an acting role in Tom Waits’ stage production, The Black Rider. You sense that the on-the-night performance aspect of live theatre suits her more than the recording studio. Musically, she has contributed to a number of tribute albums and recorded an EP of Christmas standards – pre-existing songs where her interpretation cannot be seen as the final word – and created a soundtrack for an indie film, Apartment Hunting.
When asked why Go Deo Chorus never recorded, O’Hara said: “I didn't want a record around to serve as a statement of what we are…people want to complete the picture for you.”
To the frustration of many fans, including R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe who has begged her to record more songs, Miss America remains Mary Margaret O’Hara’s only major personal artistic statement. Yet rather than wish for more gaps to be filled in, let’s be content that at least some of her ideas became a reality. Even this incomplete picture makes our world a better place.
Follow me on Twitter
If you like this, try:
Help Me Lift You Up
Anew Day
When You Know Why You're Happy
Go to 77: Valerie by Mark Ronson feat. Amy Winehouse
Go to 79: Trainspotting by Primal Scream
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