In late August and early September 1983, I spent a week at Jeremy's in Rotherfield, helping him resurface his parents' tennis court (sadly it was repossessed, along with the house, in the 1990s). We listened to Radio 1 on a transistor radio all day, often taking our cues from its rituals, such as downing tools for a coffee break when Simon Bates's Our Tune came on, and sacrificing a squirrel every time Peter Powell said "Go for it". (No, no, of course we didn't; we just shouted at the radio.)
That kind of extended exposure to a limited playlist can get some tunes lodged fairly firmly in your head. Some are catchy in an irritating way: The Kinks Come Dancing was on the playlist, and I always found it trite. Chance was one of the good ones. At the time I remember thinking that it sounded a bit like Bruce Springsteen. I still think it does, spliced with some Ewan McColl.
Back last September, Gideon Coe did Big Country for his Great Lost Album feature, and was debating whether or not to include Chance in the shortlist of three tracks. I lobbied him by email, stating my opinion that it's the best song they ever did. He included it, and it won the vote. To be honest, I never even liked their other stuff.
The repeated refrain of the song, "I never felt so low," has added pathos since Stuart Adamson took his own life. A permanent solution to what must surely have been a temporary problem. Here's a video of him singing the song in (hopefully) happier times, complete with '80s dancing and hairstyles.
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