9.
After 5 voters this song was #3.
After 10 voters this song was #1.
After 15 voters this song was #1.
After 20 voters this song was #1 (tied with "Love Comes Quickly").
After 25 voters this song was #6.
After 30 voters this song was #2.
But the total amount of voters was 36.
[MCMXCandotherletters tour]
As 'King's Cross' begins a black-and-white grainy film starts, footage set around King's Cross station, somehow just as sad and hopeless and beautiful as the music. Later on Chris appears in it, in scenes originally filmed for the 'Rent' video two years ago, looking joyless and resigned [like me right now], a woollen hat on his head, a dufflebag over his shoulder.
9. King's Cross
9.0125
Actually album track, nearly a single, nearly the opener of the album, nearly the winner of the rate
Highest score: 11x2 (
@Ray,
@JakeMagnus),
10x16 (
@Farnaby,
@RaggedTiger,
@VeryPSB,
@Jóga,
@Sweet Music,
@One Stop Candy Shop,
@etienne,
@DominoDancing,
@Bleu Noir,
@Future Lover,
@slurmjunkie,
@Eric Generic,
@Auntie Beryl,
@Scoundrel_Days,
@Sally_Harper,
@Heaven on Earth)
Lowest score: FIVE (
@Filler)
Exciting trivia: without
@Filler's 5 this song would be #6. Nevertheless we just broke into averages of 9+.
Neil: This was started off in a house near Croydon and then demoed in Wandsworth. It's basically a remake of the demo we did there. The idea came when we were driving through King's Cross with these two friends of ours, Pete and Steve, and Steve actually muttered, 'someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday...' and I thought, 'King's Cross...what a good idea for a song'. I have no idea what he was actually talking about. It was about a football match or something. I liked the idea that you'd been given contradictory instructions, and it gave me the idea of a song where you're being pushed around. And then I thought, 'wait until tomorrow, and there's still no way'. I wrote it down when we got to Chris's flat. I started writing the music on my guitar and to begin with it was very very Bob Dylan. [Dear Gods – Ray] The demo was much slower, more hymn-like. [...] I just thought this was a metaphor for Britain – people arriving at this place, waiting for an opportunity that doesn't happen, waiting for the dole queue or some documentation from the NHS. It's about hopes being dashed. You can read a book about what you should do, or write a letter to the paper, and still nothing happens because no one cares. The first line sets up the song. It's an angry song about Thatcherism. Mrs Thatcher came in on the promise of firm government and I'm interpreting 'the smack of firm government' literally as hitting someone. That's what firm government tends to mean – you hit the weakest person, the man at the back of the queue. [...] 'The dead and wounded on either side, it's only a matter of time' is another Aids reference. King's Cross os the end of the line, the place from where there is no escape but death. [...] I still think it's one of our best songs, and I love the video where Chris gets off the train that Derek Jarman made of it for our 1989 tour.
Chris: It's very sad.
Neil: When we recorded it with Stephen Hague, he suggested that it should have a key change in the middle, which we added. [A friend] said, 'you can't deny, Neil, you've had a lot of good luck in your life'. I said, 'it's not about good luck – it's a matter of knowing what you want to do and sticking with it'. I felt a bit guilty the next day. There seemed to be this appalling contrast between the ways our lives were going. In the original running order of the album 'King's Cross' was the first track. My friend listened to it and said, 'well, that's great, you've managed to make the album sound really boring'. After the album came out there was the King's Cross fire, and
The Sun wanted us to release it as a charity single.
@Ray:
Even before I could understand any of the lyrics I felt this was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. That production – the melody – the key change (thank you thank you Stephen Hague) – the coda – "there is still no guarantee..." I was unemployed for a while, funnily enough I got fired because I became better than my boss (it was just him and me) at what both of us were doing. I had no health insurance. I had to go to the benefits office in Warsaw, and it was a bunch of people who were too old to be employable really, unqualified to do any jobs other than simplest ones – and me. I had my fancèè degree in maths, years of experience as graphic designer and I the best I got was an offer to work at a building site. (I think I weighed less than a bag of concrete at the time.) I stood in a very long line, was treated horribly for no reason, and found out if I want to keep my health insurance I have to come every month and stand in this queue again to get a stamp. For no reason other than bureaucracy being able to force you to do it. And if you came in too late, as in after 7am, you'd end up waiting until closing time and being thrown out and told 'too bad, don't be late next time'.
At no point did I feel better than the rest of the people there. I felt worse. I knew that I was more
unemployable in those circumstances there. That even if I somehow managed to brag my way into a training course of some sort, I'd remain unemployable and waste valuable space that someone else could have taken. As months passed, I started feeling so much worse. I saw the jobs on display, and a thin, bespectacled poof (to quote Neil) with his university degree just wouldn't get a job that way. This was pre-Internet, so I had to spend money – which I didn't have, as I didn't qualify for any FINANCIAL benefits – on newspapers hoping for that one ad I could answer. Wait until tomorrow, until next week, next month and there's still no way. And this was when I understood what was so sad about this song. That benefits office was where dreams went to die. To me this song has always been about that; you arrive at a place like London – or Warsaw – or anywhere really; young, fearless and immortal; expecting all your dreams to come true. Your adulthood truly begins (I was 21) and you immediately find yourself in a place where even having
dreams seems some sort of horrible joke.
We didn't have Thatcherism in Poland, obviously. But this was beginning of extremely sudden transition to capitalism. We didn't know how capitalism worked. The transition was basically 'hi, nice to welcome you in Europe, this is how things work here, good luck, toodeloo'. People who always had jobs courtesy of government found themselves unable to support their families. People like me, who thought they knew what their future would be, found themselves lost. Some people became millionaires in ways that were neither ethical nor would they be legal once the confused legal system started figuring out what even changed. In many ways the legal system still hasn't caught up. There are still many people who are stuck in their King's Cross permanently. I was very, very lucky – just not at that time.
I think the most painful thing was that nobody cared – everyone was busy supporting themselves. You were not really a person; you were an obstacle. There was no place for dignity when you had to get up at 4:30am to make it to the benefits office to stand in the line for hours to get a stamp on a card entitling you to get medical treatment. The communist attitude where a receptionist was a king or queen because they liberally decided whether you are going to wait five minutes or five hours was still very much alive. But even if you did everything the way you were told to, you still didn't know whether you'd achieve anything. More than once I've been told, having waited for hours, that I came on the wrong day of the week, into the wrong room, the person I needed to see wasn't in because they left early today. This would eventually end, and my life would become much better; I got out of my private King's Cross. But I can see those people I met there – people in their late 50s, who sometimes had problems reading the job offers (and there weren't many job offers) still somehow being stuck there, waiting in endless lines, being treated like shit.
We went to actual King's Cross with a bunch of friends before I was fired from that first job – my first ever international trip, I was saving all my earnings for months to afford it – and took photos there, and it was one of the most exciting things that ever happened to us. Because all of us loved this song so much. None of us experienced the meaning behind it yet, but we all knew that it was a once-in-a-lifetime incredible classic. Later on I saw the video with sad Chris in it and it made me cry. I gave up on the idea of seeing it live – come on, it's not exactly a bop – and saw it live twice. I did find that advert in the paper and I got my job; once I had it, I was headhunted, paid more and more money, I actually had less job interviews than actual jobs. But I never forgot standing in that queue, and how thin really the line was between me being considered one of the best graphic designers in Europe, me having a burnout so bad that actually making those covers for the rate takes me a long time because I still have problems even using Photoshop. I still see people seeing the homeless paper, and think "one day this could be me". One day I might find myself in the metaphorical King's Cross again, and I never know when and how. I've been there. I've been to Sodom And Gomorrah Show. I've been to a marvellous party. I've asked someone 'why don't we live together?' and we are now married and, well, living together. But deep inside I never got used to feeling comfortable in my life, because I never forgot. I never forgot having to go to the university charity (we had one) and asking for support because we couldn't pay the bills, and being told that I will become eligible in five months. I cried 'but we can't pay the bills now', and the woman was like 'actually it's almost 4, so we're closing now, come back in February, have a good evening'.
It may seem weird I give an 11 to a song I associate with so many bad memories. But it is the most beautiful song I ever heard. And anything that takes those memories and gives them this sort of ethereal beauty is worth 11 points. When sets of votes continued to arrive, and I watched it being #1, I would first check the score given to it, sigh in relief if it was a 10 or at least 9, then compare it with what was #2 at that moment, and either get scared or excited. I wanted it to win SO BAD. But the last few sets of votes ensured it wouldn't happen. I am not going to scoff at average higher than 9 or its presence in what is a top 10 of stone cold classics, really. Because no matter what the score is, I can't see 'King's Cross' ever not being my favourite Pet Shop Boys song. Wait until tomorrow, and there's still no way.
There is no commentary from
@JakeMagnus, but I applaud his great taste in 11s.
@One Stop Candy Shop:
Gorgeously dramatic and dramatically gorgeous. This is gonna be top 10 isn't it? [Yes.]
@Mikey1701:
Lush. The lads really do know how to nail the closing song of an album don’t they? I ought to “use” this more, because it’s lovely- and not to mention haunting. I don’t really know what the song is about, and that’s the beauty of the lads. Every song has several layers of meanings. [See above.]
@etienne:
Hard to put into words how I feel about this song. Being a north-east child of the 80’s and having (up until the early 90’s) never actually been to London, this song really encapsulates my otherworldly ideas of the capital at that time and that perspective that Kings Cross is some kind of grubby gateway to Thatcherism and capitalism and then the stark contrast to my own surroundings.
@DominoDancing:
This is by far the best ballad in their pre-90s discography. The way the melody rises at the start of the chorus creates a bigger emotional response in me than anything else during their imperial phase.
@Future Lover:
Awesome track, gives me all the feels.
@ohnoitisnathan:
This is like a pre-run of 'Do I Have To?'
@Sally_Harper:
This is BEAUTIFUL, all glittery and spacey-sounding. It’s five minutes long and I still wish it was longer. I have been transported to Planet PSB and I don’t want to come back. [I only wish it was a single so that I would get an instrumental and a very, very long extended mix.]
@Heaven on Earth:
I don’t know how many times I’ve felt lost a sense of direction in my life. This song takes the allegory of loss of direction to a literal anecdotal sense. It’s odd that this follows such a happy song on the album track list yet it’s more than fitting, because after all, there are those moments of relapses even in the happiest of times. Just because you have a desire to improve your spiritual state, it doesn’t mean that that sense of longing won’t come sneaking its way like a flashing dagger in the darkness of night lounging at your weakened body. Whether you escape this killer is up to you, but one should always be prepared for such horrors.
@TrendyMüller:
I don´t know, but somehow I think that Actually is the only PSB album that suffers from the Fairlight set-up. It sounds a bit samey and mushy. Kings Cross would be even better with better, clearer sounds. [He still gave it 8.2 points which I'd say is acceptable.]
Derek Jarman projection:
It Couldn't Happen Here:
Live in Rio 1994:
Tracey Thorn's cover, which is unfortunately boring (and so are Hot Chip mixes):
Claudia Brucken cover, which may be produced by Stephen Hague but STILL is boring:
And the 1989 tour filming footage:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P98E5G-3IXI
