I used to be a huge fan of Phil Spector. Then he was convicted of murder, which rather took the shine off things. But Spector, I’m afraid, remains for me the king of pop. Not Michael Jackson, who has also significantly gone down in my estimation. Spector is the king because his “wall of sound” production formula gave us the doo-wop gems of the Ronettes and the Crystals, and went on to influence surf-pop unbeatables the Beach Boys.
While I’m keen on a dramatic seven-minute epic to close a rock album, a pop song should come in at between two and three minutes (as almost every track on Pet Sounds does). That’s why, when Madonna brought out a song that was four minutes long called 4 Minutes she was not as clever as she thought she was. Also because the radio edit was not four minutes. And also because it was crap.
The three-minute pop track is a legacy of the 78rpm of shellac and then vinyl records, a single side of which lasted between three and five minutes. Now, with no such restrictions, tracks can tend to bloviation. Most of the truly great bangers still come in at under three minutes, though. The raucous teen energy of Arctic Monkeys’ debut single I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, at 2min 54sec, is a perfect example. However, I have come to allow circa 3min 30sec as an acceptable length. That is because of Xenomania, the production outfit that worked with Girls Aloud throughout their career. As anybody with taste knows, Girls Aloud were the best pop group in decades. Thanks to Xenomania, they pumped out hit after hit. Biology – which owes much to the doo-wop sound – is essentially three songs in one, all in a neat 3min 35sec.
The pleasure of shorter pop songs is the simple prioritising of quality over quantity. A techno masterpiece that has a five-minute intro of glitches and ear-ruining bass is right up my street; but a long running time for a pop song instantly signals dull filler effects or a lot of “Uh, yeah!” interludes.
Pop songs are mini-stories and should be the audio equivalent of a Raymond Carver book. There is a reason radio edits last about three minutes: because that is how songs should have been born. Is it a coincidence that Abba’s Waterloo and the Kinks’ You Really Got Me are both under three minutes? It is not.
If you really want to show off, you could follow Queen’s example: We Will Rock You comes in at a stupendously slender 2min 2sec. It leaves you wanting more, and that’s precisely what the perfect number is supposed to do. Three minutes, repeat ad infinitum.
