1992 The Shamen: Ebeneezer Goode

This might be starting to sound like old news by now, but it's worth pointing out again that dance music was a big deal in the UK of the early nineties. So much so it's impossible for me to overstate how big it was. Fuelled since the late eighties by drug of choice ecstasy and stamped with the smiley yellow face logo, for all the world it looked like the loved up kids dancing at their 'raves' had found a way to express themselves within a culture that didn't harm anyone. The Sun newspaper, always keen to exploit anything that could improve their circulation, even carried an offer to buy a "cool and groovy" smiley T shirt. And everybody was happy. For a while anyway. And then around the turn of the decade it all turned nasty. The Sun, jumping on the growing anti-rave mood of the public now ran screaming 'EVILS OF ECTASY' headlines to highlight the drug abuse within the culture, and the establishment itself moved to outlaw the it completely with the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994's attempt to stamp out raves with the boot of authority.

But I'm getting ahead of myself now - in the early nineties there was still bandwagon enough ripe to be jumped on, and in the same way that disco gave a second wind to some unlikely acts in the late seventies, a number of hitherto low key indie acts began to proclaim that there was always a dance element to their music before hopping on shamelessly with a stolen ticket. Primal Scream made the biggest splash with their shift from the fey jangle of Byrds wannabes to the era defining 'Screamadelica', but other acts like Pop Will Eat Itself, The Farm, Soup Dragons, The Mock Turtles all found a degree of success within this field (certainly more than with anything they'd done previously).

And to that list can be added The Shamen - initially sixties psychedelia revivalists, their shift to electronic dance began earlier than their peers and by 1989 they were fully converted to all things acid house/techno where they were respected players. All of which makes 'Ebeneezer Goode' something of a mystery. While the genre was never without humour, The Shamen themselves were never renowned for playing anything for laughs, and yet how else are we to take the pure tabloid baiting "E's are good" chorus of this? A novelty cash in to file next to Smart E's Sesame Street sampling 'Sesame's Treet' that was number two a few weeks previous, or a KLF type prank to get the country to unwittingly trumpet the joys of Class A recreational drugs?

I think the truth falls somewhere in-between with The Shamen happy to hedge their bets. The "Ya ha ha ha ha ha" laughs and "Naughty naughty very naughty"'s are knowing and played for (what else) pure comic effect, but then Mr C's rap highlighting the benefits of Mr Goode ("He takes you for a ride and as if by design the party ignites like he's comin' alive. He takes you to the top, shakes you all around then back down, you know as he gets mellow then as smooth as the groove") are a clear antidote to media frenzy of the drug's evilness that even comes with a "He's the kind of geezer who must never be abused" warning for moderation. All set to a day-glo, 127 bpm techno rush.

And I think the duality is what caused most of the stink - a song at number one advocating drug use with enough handholds to lead young and old with its chortling Pied Piper allure of good times ahoy. Popular music has always contained coded messages relating to sex and drugs, and The Shamen themselves had already released a more sober track advocating the benefits of drug use in 1987's 'Christopher Mayhew Says' ("When he sits in merry disarray with a smile that says it all. He's found a distant bliss too beautiful for words") to no controversy whatsoever. But of course, that was from when The Shamen were still a niche indie band tucked away from the masses - this was too blatant, too amoral, too pleased with itself and too bloody easy for a Play School audience to sing along to. It had to be banned and the BBC duly obliged. 'Ebeneezer Goode' is not a good example of it's genre - minus the controversy it's predictable and formulaic, a Ford Mondeo of dance music. But as a complete package, it exudes the generational splitting mischief of pop music at its best.