Steve Coogan on why he hates “The Lady In Red”

In HateSong, we ask our favorite musicians, writers, comedians, actors, and so forth to expound on the one song they hate most in the world.
The hater: After veering toward the dramatic with the Oscar-nominated Philomena this past year, veteran British comedian-actor Steve Coogan steps back into his comfort zone with Alan Partridge, an absurd feature-length culmination of the character he first portrayed nearly 25 years ago on the groundbreaking BBC radio show On The Hour. The ambitious if inept Partridge has gone from local sports reporter to national television broadcaster and back again in a span of mediums that include radio, TV, and now film. It’s a crisis movie of sorts that tests how self-absorbed Partridge can remain in a hostage situation.
The hated: Chris De Burgh, “The Lady In Red” (1986)
The A.V. Club: What is it about “The Lady In Red” that makes you froth at the mouth?
Steve Coogan: There are others, but for someone who grew up in the late ’70s listening to Siouxsie And The Banshees and a lot of post-punk like Joy Division and nihilistic industrial electronic music, this was everything that I sort of railed against. You know if it’s the sort of thing your grandmother would like, then it’s already holed below the waterline. It’s the sort of bland, moribund, and profoundly dull lift music. It’s what stupid people dance to at weddings. There’s no substance to it. It doesn’t stay with you. It’s like woodchip wallpaper. I’m not sure you have that in the U.S. It’s like magnolia paint in rented accommodations. The tune is turgid. It’s like someone going “la la la la la” in the shower. You don’t feel there’s a strong voice, and when I say voice, I don’t mean Chris De Burgh’s voice. I mean something that’s been lived. It’s like a soup from Walmart.
I mean, I don’t like modern jazz. I like smoother jazz, but not so smooth that it veers toward Chris De Burgh. That would be wrong. I like trad jazz and New Orleans jazz, but modern jazz, when you know the musicians are having a better time than the people listening to the music, then I don’t like that. That’s self-indulgent. You’re like, “Okay, you can play, but I’m having trouble stomaching this kind of tune.” There’s this piece I liked recently, IBM 1401, A User’s Manual, by this Icelandic composer [Jóhann Jóhannsson]. He uses the sound of a mainframe computer system in the ’60s and then put orchestral strings on top of it. That I go, “Wow, this is making me think of things in a sort of different way.” I don’t listen to Chris De Burgh’s “Lady In Red” and think, “Boy, this makes me think about things in a different way.” It makes me think that he saw a woman who was dressed in red, and he thought she was pretty hot. That’s it, and then he marries her. Really? I don’t have anything personal against Chris De Burgh, but that kind of blandness to me is the enemy of creativity.
AVC: There’s no tension in the song. Maybe if it were actually about alcoholism and the “lady” was a nice Bordeaux?
SC: Yeah, or take “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds.” I don’t particularly want to take LSD, but it makes me think that’s interesting because I’m getting a sense of some “otherness” there. If it’s accidentally on the radio and I don’t have time to change it, I just feel like that’s three minutes of my life I’m never going to get back again.