If forced to answer what artist I feel deserves more love in the New Wave genre, it’s Joe Jackson. Whereas I’m discovering a lot of these bands as the column goes, I was introduced to “Look Sharp!” during my early 20s. I was a bass player and thus gravitated towards artists who tended to incorporate more prominent sounds. While I will praise Jackson’s lyricism and overall music production, it goes without saying that this is a great bass album. For as much as the genre is defined by experimentation with frontline instruments like guitar or piano, Jackson is one of those who knew how to use a bass to subvert the melody by tweaking traditional rock with reggae. I’m unsure that this could be called the best New Wave album, but I’m willing to argue it’s one of the best embodiments.
Another curious thing is this is the first time that Make It New will be studying a solo artist. While it’s evident that he had a backing band, his name is still front and center on the label. When you think of “Look Sharp!” it’s often of the lead singer doing his young man snarl as he runs the gamut of topics over 40 minutes. At times, he’s like a scrappier Elvis Costello who is less interested in formalities. Despite the title’s suggestion, he’s not concerned with fashion. At this stage in his career, he is closer to a satirist with plenty of punchy lyrics to fill a three-minute runtime. While he would transition into other styles as he aged, his roots are as New Wave as they get: poppy but not conventional – at times high concept and appealing to a market outside of the Top 40. As someone who professes to not know whether he wrote a hit, Jackson clearly sees himself first and foremost as an artist, and that may be why this album lands.
Jackson was born as David Jackson in Burton Upon Trent, Staffordshire in England, in 1954. During his youth, he played violin and piano. By 16, he was playing at bars before winning a scholarship two years later to study at Royal Academy of Music. His first band was Edward Bear, who has two unsuccessful releases. It wasn’t until 20 that he would legally change his name to Joe: a nickname inspired by someone’s observation that he looked like a puppet character on Joe 90. As he progressed, he would eventually join Koffee & Kream, where he began to write some of the music that would define his debut. He would eventually leave the band on the grounds of finding them schmaltzy, leading to him writing “Fools in Love” as a commentary on his changing style.
In 1978, he formed The Joe Jackson Band with Gary Sanford (guitar), Graham Maby (bass), and David Houghton (drums). They would continue to develop a setlist, including “Is She Really Going Out With Him?” which the band loved because of its call-and-response structure. Having acquired money from his time in Koffee & Kream, the band began to record the album on their own. Midway through, David Kershenbaum of A&M Records found their music and offered them a contract.
As a result, most of “Look Sharp!” was recorded in quick proximity. There weren’t any effects used to enhance the sound, thus creating a live sound that captured where the band was at the time. While there is a shared regret that certain tracks sound a little empty, they agree that it’s more the byproduct of being an artist who is never satisfied. Brian Griffin shot the album cover, which Jackson was upset about. He hated that his face was not on it. Ironically, it would go on to become one of the most celebrated and Grammy-nominated album covers of the 1970s. Still, the damage was done, and Jackson refused to work with Griffin ever again.
Something to consider is that Jackson has openly admitted that he’s not keen about sharing his personal life. This was evident in his autobiography, where he suggested that it was more about writing the music than any formative experiences. As a result, a lot of the production around “Look Sharp!” is not as well-known. Similarly, The Joe Jackson Band would only record on his first two albums before a lengthy hiatus. It wasn’t until 2003’s “Volume 4” that they returned for a brief period.
To start breaking into the album, I want to say that I love “Look Sharp!” and it’s one of the few New Wave records that I feel is indicative of what I expect from the genre. It’s not totally breaking the mold, but instead planting new and perverse ideas within the framework so that mainstream rock can be a little more artful. It even manages to incorporate reggae elements with '50s and '60s garage rock in ways that make them sound like a demonic doo-wop band. Jackson’s not afraid of the faster punk-tinged numbers, nor is he worried about sticking some truly heinous lyrics into a love song. It’s even led to him being misconstrued as an angry young man when he’s more interested in joking around.
Everything kicks off with “One More Time,” which creates an anxious, stumbling melody as Jackson tries to convince his beloved to stay. The relationship falls apart, and he’s obsessed with finding out way. Tell him one more time why doesn’t love him. While the framework seems familiar for the lovelorn ballads, the subversion of the title into something desperate and somber reflects Jackson’s overeager need to hold onto a passion that has long since faded. No amount of repeating the phrase numbs the pain. She feels like she’s further away by the end, and it comes through in the speed as everything blurs into the great unknown. All of this is now a memory, moments before entering the truly devastating recesses of the imagination.
For those who know Jackson more for his reggae-style numbers, “One More Time” might be a bit jarring of an opener. Even then, it’s a notion that most New Wave artists have. The energetic opener gets the listener primed for a journey through the creative imagination of what’s to come.
Which leads to my favorite song on the whole album. In one of his few candid comments, Jackson admits that “Sunday Papers” is about Britain’s tabloids and how they will make the reader lose brain cells. The various scenarios in the lyrics – punk rockers, gay politicians, stains on mattresses – create a vivid image that is also scuzzy and counterintuitive to the orchestration. Mixing a swinging guitar with a reggae bassline, the upbeat nature allows for a punk sarcasm to sneak in. It’s the perfect commentary that explores the futility of consuming garbage to the point that it shapes your worldview. To not be outdone, the closing section is a winking nod to gospel with a sped-up chorus that alludes to the ways that tabloids are treated as a perverse religion. When performed live, Jackson is often seen ripping a paper in half after reading headlines. It’s easily one of the best political songs covered in this column so far, just because it’s succinct and biting without grandstanding too much.
My instinct is to loathe “Is She Really Going Out With Him?” because of its overplayed nature, but revisiting it for this column reminds me why I love it. Much like the predecessor, it’s an observational song that asks why attractive women date ugly men. Many have argued that Jackson is being angry, but he rejects that read, and considers it to largely be humorous. Even if it’s a song that amounts to people watching, it has some of his most entertaining quips. The band responds “Where?” when he sings, “Look over there!” which creates this playful action that Jackson is caught somewhere between deep thought and being lost in the moment. Even the way the chorus ends more on a speculative tone suggests that he’s more intrigued than frustrated by everybody walking past.
The same could be said for “Happy Loving Couples,” which has one of the best basslines on the entire album. The way it bounces with jittery shifts in melody works as the backbone for Jackson’s animated vocals. The way he sings lines like “too damn fussy” has this catty quality that reveals his gifts as a singer. He’s able to play into the premise with inflections. The chorus is especially beautiful as he builds to a jagged stop right before defiantly establishing that happy couples are “no friends of mine.” He seems tough without being rude. If anything, he feels like one of the more sensitive punk rockers who is rejecting the societal norms of dating.
If there are some lesser songs on the record, one of them is “Throw It Away.” While I recognize that it’s an infectious little bop, it’s the most evident about style over substance. It borrows heavily from the punk framework that encourages fast and angry. It’s fun and reflects Jackson’s gifts for writing a catchy chorus, but it’s done better on other tracks. For example, the closer “Got the Time” bookends the album with another thoughtful song about self-reflection amid ever-growing chaos. While I’m here, I also find “(Do the) Instant Mash” to be a bit too novelty. Even if Jackson is being genuine about going to dances and watching robot movies, it feels the most removed from his directness. It feels too specific and attempting to appeal to the retro bands that he’s playing with on the album. The only difference is that it’s corny and lacks urgency. Even songs like “Pretty Girls,” which Jackson disliked for being too banal conceptually to have more going on than the aforementioned numbers.
This could be because Jackson’s greatest appeal has been how he sees the world. He manages to be the cool outsider that you want to hang out with. “Baby Stick Around” gets things back in order as he finds a way to subvert the tropes of a love song into something more dangerous and exciting. There’s anticipation of what’s to come, and it’s there in how well the song constantly starts and stops, as if awkwardly trying to overcome several hurdles. It’s another brilliant orchestration that mixes nostalgic imagery with the up-tempo melodies that have been essential.
The next two songs are arguably the point where the album really locks into its lyrical ambitions. Even if Jackson has rarely been too direct so far, there’s something fun about the title track. “Look Sharp!” as a phrase brings to imagination someone who dresses very well and is popular. There’s no denying that he sees himself in this manner. In fact, there’s a greater sense of social life. The only issue is that it’s offset in the chorus and later verses with the idea of looking over your shoulder for danger. You have to look sharp because someone will attack you. While it’s not my favorite song on the album, the lyrics have this meticulous execution that blurs the lines between being popular and being hated. Jackson exists somewhere in between, and this exemplifies how he sees himself in the larger framework of the album.
Even then, it’s no match for the more directly reggae-inspired number “Fools In Love.” Whereas most of the other tracks deal with a perspective of looking at love from inside or outside the central relationship, there is a fun twist that develops throughout the song. As Jackson explores the ways that lovers are pathetic and hurt themselves, he reveals halfway through that “this fool’s in love again.” He sings the line in a way reminiscent of a crooner, albeit much sadder and introspective. It makes one wonder if he really feels the passion, or if he’s in a miserable relationship where he’s being torn limb from limb. Even as the percussion clashes on the chorus, there’s this implicit pain breaking through like whips on his back. It’s hard to read this as being an endorsement or warning, resulting in the perfect embodiment of love, Joe Jackson style.
As previously mentioned, I wasn’t a fan of the closing stretch. While “(Do the) Instant Mash” has enough going on to be memorable, it’s ultimately a filler track telling a story that I was never invested in. It’s goofy and naive on a record that leans more intentional. “Pretty Girls” reminds me of Costello’s tendencies to deconstruct the beauty industry, albeit with less profundity. At the end of the day, it feels like “Is She Really Going Out With Him?” but with less on its mind. Either that, or Jackson just wanted an excuse to talk about women’s shoes.
The closer is the perfect way for things to conclude. Even if it’s otherwise abrupt, it bookends the listening experience with an aggressive tone. It also reflects the disorganized nature of Jackson’s lyrical style. They are desperate for love, but they aren’t able to focus long enough to live a satisfying life. Using time as a metaphor is a great send-off because it notes a sense of regret even within the joy and asks for a deeper meaning in one’s life.
As a whole, “Look Sharp!” is one of those essential New Wave albums that I encourage everyone to listen to. It’s still acclaimed and considered one of Jackson’s best works. It was such a successful story that their follow-up, “I’m Your Man,” was considered “Look Sharp Part Two.”
The irony was that, unlike most bands that are covered in Make It New, there’s no reason to argue that Jackson ever retired. He’s put out music as recently as 2023. Even then, his backing band is more fitting of the cliché, especially with them disappearing by 1980 and only returning after a 23-year hiatus. Then again, they weren’t considered as crucial to Jackson’s success as other bands’ would’ve been. For as much as I love Maby’s work on bass, I don’t think the credit was as evident in the larger zeitgeist. Again, Jackson was quiet about his life, and thus it’s hard to know what he thought about a lot of things.
In fact, one of the only things he’s mentioned was how much he hates anti-smoking laws to the point he calls them “the nanny state.” He also identifies as bisexual, which would become more prominent in his music as he evolved. By the mid-80s, he was moving into a more jazz-driven direction as well as dabbling with classical music. He’s remained active to the point it is difficult to fully encapsulate in this essay. With that said, he’s so all over the map that he’s even been covered by thrash metal bands like Anthrax and The Donots. Now that takes a special kind of artist.
While I would’ve loved to see Jackson represented more on this list, I am glad to see him featured at all. This is one of those records that really digs into the late-70s era of New Wave and finds the direction that the decade ahead would travel in. I love that it’s as much playing with reggae as it is the raw chords of garage punk. It’s a record not afraid to take risks, and you get a sense of how much Joe Jackson was blazing his own trail. He may have a style, but it’s not the one that was splayed across the Sunday papers. It came from someplace more authentic and real. It’s hard not to love that.
Coming Up Next: Tears For Fears – “Song From the Big Chair” (1979)
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