This song was recorded with Genya Ravan when Ian sat in as the last minute replacement for Van Morrison who couldn't make the session while touring. Ravan’s manager reached out to Bruce Springsteen cause he may have been tough enough and had the swagger to match Ravan’s fierceness. While Springsteen dawdled, Mick Ronson wandered into the studio suggesting Hunter.
First, we hear the acoustic strums of Ronson’s guitar lulling us into a quiet moment, drawing us closer, then comes the plaintive, sexy voice of Ravan. She sings the first chorus as if a gentle rebuke, “should’ve listened to the junkman…it’s a sin that takes a love and loses.”
Hunter’s voice responds with the perfect combination of British cockiness and world-weariness, telling her, “You’ve been confusing lust with love/I think I’m gonna let you go.”
The song rises on Ronson’s guitar and swirling keyboards and those voices, growing more powerful as the truth of their longing overwhelms their coolness. Next thing you know, Ravan’s singing, “I sweep away that shattered heart that one time got away.”
The song builds to a crescendo of Ronson’s guitar licks and the full-lunged wailing of Ravan and Hunter venting their irresistible longing and regret, their voices transcending the lyrics to full-throated cries of love.
This explosion of desire generates real passion that comes to life in the perfect pairing of Ravan and Hunter’s voices. He swings low, damning himself while she whirls and flies above, each burned and giving voice to the anguish of their desire.
Van Morrison was supposed to provide the male voice, but a tour kept him from the recording session. Ravan’s manager reached out to Bruce Springsteen cause he may have been tough enough and had the swagger to match Ravan’s fierceness. While Springsteen dawdled, Mick Ronson, lead guitarist for Mott the Hoople wandered into the studio. He had a natural suggestion: Mott’s front man, Ian Hunter. Is there anyone who does the combination of jaded and vulnerable better than Ian Hunter? He’s the ultimate cad who turns out to have a heart. One listen and you know that Hunter and Ravan made the perfect pairing for this song.
Play “Junkman” now and you’ll wonder how this didn’t become a monster hit; why isn’t it a hit now? After a few listens, you’ll have the song floating round your cranium and you’ll be repeating, “Should’ve listened to the junkman.” Forget those lists of run-of-the-mill power ballads (“November Rain” indeed), cause this here’s the real thing: a song that starts small and intimate and grows to a raging wall of sound and emotion, singers who make us believe and performances the that tear the paint off the walls.
First, we hear the acoustic strums of Ronson’s guitar lulling us into a quiet moment, drawing us closer, then comes the plaintive, incredibly sexy voice of Ravan. “The Southside girls they told me/That you were hot as fire.” Her voice is constrained, but you know it won’t be for long, you can feel the pent-up longing and lust. “And I remember every word you said/When you told me I’d get burned/I said don’t worry baby/I’ll just live and learn.” And she meant it, you know she did, even if remorse already drenches the line.
She sings the first chorus as if a gentle rebuke, “should’ve listened to the junkman…it’s a sin that takes a love and loses.”
Ian Hunter’s voice responds with the perfect combination of British cockiness and world-weariness, telling her, “You’ve been confusing lust with love/I think I’m gonna let you go.”
There they are: the girl who won’t get burned and the been-around-the-block guy who never falls in love. You know where this is headed. “Oh, baby we play these games/I’d never thought we’d do it/But we done it just the same.”
The song rises on Ronson’s guitar and swirling keyboards and those voices, growing more powerful as the truth of their longing overwhelms their coolness. Next thing you know, Ravan’s singing, “I sweep away that shattered heart that one time got away.”
The song soars with combination of desire and loss and the revelation that these hidebound creatures couldn’t help themselves. Call it love, call it lust, all the reasons in the world couldn’t keep them apart. The chorus repeats, “You should’ve listened to your junkman,” but the voices make clear the disbelief as to how far each went. “I don’t want to beg,” they sing over and over, begging for one more time. The song builds to a crescendo of Ronson’s guitar licks and the full-lunged wailing of Ravan and Hunter venting their irresistible longing and regret, their voices transcending the lyrics to full-throated cries of love.
Melodrama comes when a song reaches for emotions it doesn’t deserve, but this near six-minute explosion of desire generates real passion that comes to life in the perfect pairing of Ravan and Hunter’s voices. He swings low, damning himself while she keens, whirls and flies above, each burned and giving voice to the anguish of their desire.
We often connect people with songs, especially people who introduce us to new music. When this album came out in 1979, I hosted a college radio show and a friend turned me on to Genya Ravan and “Junkman.” I was immediately smitten with the song – as this small appreciation clearly indicates – and played it as often as I did Neil Young’s “Thrasher,” Graham Parker and the Clash. Genya Ravan wasn’t a household name – no one else at our less than edgy station had heard of her – so it took some explorations and special knowledge to find her music and a particular person to become a fan. Which brings me to Carol, the woman who did the exploring and the experimenting and had the combination of toughness to like Ravan enough to own two of her albums. It turns out that Carol knew a lot more music than just Genya Ravan, in fact, she knew a lot more about a lot of things, and that combination of riskiness, daring and high standards added to her charms. I was a fool back then, still am, but I knew enough to follow that friend and still do, since Carol became my bride. You might have seen her recently shaking her hips to Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings cause she still has a thing for tough women and a weak spot for fools like me.
Ian Hunter CD: "Once Bitten Twice Shy"
Sleeve and track listing
Sony/Columbia 496284 2.
Review
This 2-CD set has been a long time coming. Once Sony released a 3-CD Mott The Hoople Anthology, it was inevitable they would issue a similar "box set" covering Ian Hunter's solo career. Comparisons with that set are therefore inevitable, although somewhat unfair.
This set attempts to include all the rarities: single A-sides, B-sides, movie soundtracks, a few outttakes and demos as well as the great/classic album tracks. Lovingly put together by Campbell Devine, Ian's input was, I'm told, minimal: recording vocals on two or three otherwise unfinished tracks, a handful of demos, and a request the set be split into "Rockers" and "Ballads".
Colwater High is an early highlight on the Rockers disc. An outtake from Ian's first album, it is very keyboard-oriented since Mick Ronson never laid down a guitar part for it. As such, it would not be out of place on the Hoople album. Common Disease is an outttake from the Alien Boy sessions, and is more up-tempto than other tracks on the album. Otherwise, it is a worthy song and I'm surprised it has taken so long to see the light of day.
Traitor (b-side to the Good Ones single) has never worked for me. It starts strongly, with powerful keyboard playing from Tommy Mandel, then it suddenly changes tempo and just sort of plods along. Three of the four movie soundtracks Ian recorded in the 80's are here (Wake Up Call being the one missing), the highlight for me being Great Expectations which has a good riff and a great chorus. I'd love to see Ian do this live some time.
Ain't No Way To Treat A Lady is an outtake from the Artful Dodger sessions, and takes a couple of listens to appreciate. I'd have put it on the "Ballads" disc, but then what do I know? The "Rockers" disc finishes with a live version of ATYD by Def Leppard (with Ian as special guest, of course).
The "Ballads" disc continues in a similar vein, mixing rare singles with alternate versions and previously-unreleased material. Shades Off is a spoken version of the track on Ian's first album, while Advice To A Friend is an alternate take of God (Take One) from the Alien Boy sessions. Don't ask me to chose which one is the better version, as both work for me.
Bluebirds is the highlight of this disc - an outtake from the Good Ones sessions, it is a power ballad - starts quietly but keeps building. Stylewise it is close to something Meat Loaf would do (when Jim Steinman is producing).
Both Sunshine Eyes and All Is Forgiven are demos, recorded in Ian's home studio and as such are true solo recordings. They are certainly interesting, and demonstrate the breadth of styles Ian is capable of. But demo quality is all they are, and Ian didn't see fit to record them on any of his albums.
The set comes complete with 32-page booklet featuring a short biography, track-by-track notes from Ian, and many rare and previously-unpublished photos.
As a compilation of Ian Hunter solo material, this is certainly the best so far, covering as it does both CBS and Chrysalis material. However, my main complaint concerns the balance of material presented. We get no fewer than six tracks from Schizophrenic, but only one from YUI Orta (heck, there are two tracks from Overnight Angels, Ian's least favourite album), and nothing at all from Dirty Laundry or Artful Dodger.
Ian says (in the sleeve notes) that this compilation will go a long way to answering the question "what have you done since 1975?". This compilation answers the question concerning Ian's 1970's and 1980's work, but the question of Ian's output in the 1990's remains unanswered here.
Junkman | 5:22 | A duet with Genya Ravan and originally released on Genya's album And I Mean It. Also available on the compilation Once Bitten Twice Shy. Not on the box set. |