Neneh Cherry, "Buffalo Stance" (1988)
- MichaelTurnerXY
- Nov 29, 2019
- 2 min read
Updated: Dec 6, 2019
Editors note: If you’ve never heard her 1996 track, “Woman,” stop reading right now and go listen.
When it comes to being at the forefront of alternatives in music, you’d be hard-pressed to find better examples from this period to embody the spirit of fun and fierceness, interplay among genres and audiences, and novelty vibes that nonetheless take craftsmanship seriously than “Buffalo Stance.” 1988 is about as far back as I'll go on this list, but pioneers get extra credit, and this track was truly ahead of its time. I was obsessed with this song as a kid. I had no idea what it was about but I didn’t care – I loved it. Now, I don’t want to go so far as to straight-up compare it to “Good Vibrations” or anything, but I will say that this track is absolutely packed with moments. Ms. Cherry. Is. Serving. You. Moments. Bear in mind, the full-length version the following description details isn't reflected in the video above — for that, please follow my Spotify.
First there’s the intro where she orders the DJ to cut off the scratches and switches into her band leader hat to call the instruments in, one by one. Then there’s the rap flow. There’s the sung chorus featuring one of my all-time favorite lyrics: “No money man can win my love – it’s sweetness that I’m thinking of.” There’s the shroud of mystery around what exactly a “buffalo stance” is anyway. There’s a breakdown bridge a minute and a half into the song and I lose all sense of space and time. Then she goes into full-on narrator mode, serving you storytime realness, and then pivots back to the chorus again. Then another breakdown at 2 and half minutes. This song is delightfully all over the place and we’re barely half-way through. Then she goes into high school speech and forensics competition mode, enacting a quick dramatic interpretation scene study playing both characters of the dialogue, one with such a convincing Cockney accent that as a kid I thought Tracey Ullman had done a guest appearance on the track. Then at the four minute mark, she finds the time for a THIRD breakdown, this time with a spoken word transcendental meditation on the spiritual ecstasy and existential power of reveling in the sensory pleasures of the natural world and communion with one’s beloved to rival Whitman. Finally, she wraps the whole thing up over a keyboard outro that I would say feels loosely pulled from Depeche Mode except for the fact that this track surely preceded whatever reference it’s evoking for me. And the whole thing is wrapped in catchy hooks, samples-done-right, sing-able melodies, memorable lyrics, and a relentless triangle rhythm and infectious beat you can’t help but shake that ass to.
Moments, children. Learn it well.
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