David Green

David Green (Books) is the imprint under which I publish booklets of my own poems, or did. The 'Collected Poems' are now available as a pdf. The website is now what it has become. It keeps me out of more trouble than it gets me into. I hope you find at least some of it worthwhile.

Sunday, 23 October 2022

Dusty Springfield, I Just Don’t Know What To Do with Myself


 George Best was non-plussed by Dusty Springfield, his genius for unlocking the defences of Northampton Town, Benfica and most other football teams not translating into one of his other god-given gifts. He need not have fretted.
With Petula Clark, Cilla, Lulu and Sandie Shaw for opposition but with Burt Bacharach writing songs like this and symphonic production to compare with Phil Spector and Tamla Motown, Dusty need not have fretted either, and yet she did. The majestic diva act and heavy mascara were an impressive disguise but inside, it seems, it hurt as much as the songs she sang said it did.
I'm not convinced there's such a thing as a white soul singer. Reports that Elvis thought Tom Jones must be black only serve as further evidence that Elvis wasn't very bright. But, if there ever was a white, British reply to Tamla Motown, it was Dusty Springfield.
It's this song ahead of several others like I Can't Make It Alone (Carole King/Gerry Goffin), You Don't Have to Say You Love Me, I Close My Eyes and Count to Ten as well as the still desperate but ostensibly more positive I Only Wanna Be with You, mostly on account of,
Baby, if your new love ever turns you down
Come back, I will be around
Just waiting for you
I don't know what else to do
 
which expresses desolation in words of almost always one syllable.
For Dusty, it wasn't to be the films or taking a penalty, however badly, to open the World Cup by the iron ambition of Diana Ross. It went quiet until the Pet Shop Boys gave her the opportunity to come back in 1987 with What Have I Done to Deserve This?, re-invented as ironic, electronic and a bit disco but gorgeously mature and glam.
It wasn't a happy story but genius and greatness aren't a passport to comfort, as George Best would have been able to explain. 

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