Ok, the term “guilty pleasure” is phony – a way to ironically declare you like something uncool instead of just owning up to your tastes.
I actually don’t feel guilty at all for liking The Bay City Rollers.
Sure, even as a kid I knew The Bay City Rollers Show was silly and proved a poor venue to showcase some of their obviously great songs.
But after Duncan Faure joined the band, replacing Leslie McKeown in 1978, the addition injected an artistic enthusiasm back into the band. With new songwriting and vocals, the band rebranded as “The Rollers” and released Elevator in 1979, a collection that stands tall with any other new wave or power pop offerings that year (and 1979 has an embarrassment of riches!)
I’ve read reviews online from people insisting that a name change was just putting lipstick on a…well, you know. That reminds me of when Donny Osmond shed his teeny-bopper image with 1988’s Donny Osmond. DJs played “Soldier of Love” without announcing the artist, letting callers weigh in. Without the baggage of parts of his cringe-worthy past (fittingly, the Donny and Marie show was a Sid and Marty Krofft production), Donny scored a genuine adult pop hit.
Controversial take: The Rollers’ newfound chemistry with Duncan Faure recalls the magic Badfinger had before Pete Ham’s death. Had Pete still been with us, this is the kind of album Badfinger might have made in 1979. And “Hello and Welcome Home” would have sounded great on Airwaves.
Elevator may not have been a commercial hit, but it deserves to be remembered as a standout in the late 70s power pop and new wave. No reason to feel guilty for enjoying great music—even if it comes from unexpected places.