Don’t Quote Me On That

In the fast-moving chaos of early Madness, decisions were made on the fly, often based as much on gut instinct as long-term strategy. Such is the case with “Don’t Quote Me On That,” a track whose journey from would-be single to cult classic is riddled with missteps, misattributions, and mischief—exactly the kind of tale you’d expect from the Nutty Boys.

Originally intended to follow up the band’s first Top 5 hit “My Girl,” “Don’t Quote Me On That” was seriously considered for release as the next single in early 1980. It had the punch, the political sass, and the band’s trademark sense of humour—plus a title that cheekily played with journalistic accountability in an era when the press loved (and occasionally loathed) Madness. But before it could make the leap to the airwaves, the band made a sharp turn.

Instead, Madness issued “Night Boat to Cairo,” a move that would not only introduce one of their most iconic tracks but also forever change the planned trajectory of their early releases. As such, “Don’t Quote Me On That” was quietly shelved as a standalone single and tucked instead into Work, Rest and Play, the EP that would go on to chart highly in its own right, buoyed by the momentum of “Night Boat.”

Yet the story of “Don’t Quote Me On That” doesn’t end with its reshuffling. Behind the scenes, there was controversy—musical, legal, and comedic. A case of mistaken identity surrounded the origin of the tune’s melody. According to Madness lore, someone raised concern that the song bore more than a passing resemblance to a previously released reggae track. The rumour mill pointed to Peter Tosh, the legendary Jamaican musician and former Wailer, as the potential source.

But as Lee Thompson, Madness’s sax-wielding lyricist, would later wryly recall, that theory was well off the mark. In a deliciously ironic twist, the actual song they had ahem “borrowed” from was written by someone also named Thompson—just not Peter Tosh. “I’ve got the song we er… copied on my jukebox,” Thompson confessed. “And the funny thing is, if you look at the label, the author is… Thompson.” He grinned, “But that’s enough of that—why not give Peter Tosh a mention anyway?”

Whether it was a playful nod to reggae culture or a minor brush with copyright confusion, the saga only added to the mystique of the track. “Don’t Quote Me On That” became a semi-satirical anthem in its own right, skewering media narratives while slyly acknowledging the band’s own brush with musical plagiarism.

For collectors, the real draw lies in the 12” promotional pressing of the single. Never officially released to the public, this white-label artifact is believed to have had a pressing of just 500 copies—possibly fewer. Featuring only “Don’t Quote Me On That” and possibly a demo or alternate version on the flip side (pressings vary), these promos were distributed to radio stations and journalists during the brief window when the single was still being considered. The label was barebones, and the mix was identical to the one that appeared on Work, Rest and Play, but its rarity has made it one of the most sought-after pieces in the Madness collector world.

Despite its limited physical presence, the song has endured because it embodies everything early Madness represented: brash confidence, political cheek, a wink to the rude-boy roots of ska, and a willingness to play with genre and form. Musically, it straddles the line between ska-pop bounce and something edgier—more defiant, more London. With its cutting lyrics and sharp production, it showed that Madness wasn’t just a novelty act dancing about in baggy trousers—they had something to say.

When Work, Rest and Play landed in the shops in March 1980, the band was at a crossroads: just three singles in, but already defining the shape of British pop’s post-punk fringe. Including “Don’t Quote Me On That” alongside “Night Boat to Cairo,” the re-recorded “The Prince,” and the ever-underrated “Deceives the Eye,” the EP gave Madness an unexpected fourth wind off their One Step Beyond… debut. And it showed they weren’t afraid to tweak the industry—or themselves—along the way.

Over four decades later, “Don’t Quote Me On That” has grown beyond its forgotten-single status. It’s a fan-favourite deep cut, a rare vinyl treasure, and a snapshot of a moment when Madness was still defining what Madness was. And in true Thompson fashion, it leaves you smiling, slightly confused, and itching to flip the record over just one more time.