The Gap Band ‎– Oops Up Side Your Head / Party Lights

Mercury ‎– 6167 980
Vinyl, 12", 45 RPM, Maxi-Single


A Oops Up Side Your Head 8:39
B Party Lights 3:54

Companies, etc.



Produced for Total Experience Productions.
Made in West-Germany
℗ 1979 Phonogram Inc.
Aus dem Hause Phonogram.

Barcode and Other Identifiers

  • Rights Society: GEMA
  • Label Code: LC 0268
  • Matrix / Runout (Side 1 Label): AA 6167 980.1Y
  • Matrix / Runout (Side 2 Label): AA 6167 980.2Y
  • Matrix / Runout (Side 1 Runout Variant 1): 10 AA6167980 1Y 320
  • Matrix / Runout (Side 2 Runout Variant 1): 10 AA6167980 2Y//2 320
  • Matrix / Runout (Side 1 Runout Variant 2): 10 AA6167980 1Y 320 P1
  • Matrix / Runout (Side 2 Runout Variant 2): 10 AA6167980 2Y//2 320 TB1



Add Review



June 13, 2012
edited over 4 years ago
I’ve always been a big fan of funky disco, but at the risk of contention I have to say I’ve also always hated this record. With passion. With zeal. I hated it when it was played to death in nightclubs in the late 70’s and early 80’s, and I hated it even more that its popularity and success was bolstered by (if not wholly indebted to) that stupid rowing routine that inexplicably always took place on dancefloors (in Blighty anyway) whenever it was played - I myself would head to the bar or preferably somewhere out of earshot at that point.
Over the years since, whenever I’ve been subjected to it on (mercifully only) the odd occasion I’ve managed to blank it out of my mind until it has passed, knowing I still hated it but not making the effort to remember why. However, the other day I was putting together some mixes for my school reunion that I've been asked to DJ at, and I knew I couldn’t get away without including it. So I borrowed the 12” version on MP3 from a friend and had to listen to it very closely in order to edit it down to (a still barely palatable) two minutes. I then realised what it was about it that I really found so detestable. It wasn’t the fact that it seemed to go on ad nauseum (although that didn’t help matters), nor that it was a second-rate P-funk workout and little more than a repetitive mindless chant. No, what really did my head in was the relentless in-your-face shouting, whooping and hollering of the band members throughout. They (and their fans) might argue that without their excitable interjections and over-exuberant proto-rap posturing the record would be boring, but I would answer in reply that had they made the effort to write a half-decent tune to go over it, they wouldn’t have had to indulge in such tiresome practice.