David: This is when I started to get bored with U2. I liked a couple tunes from Rattle and Hum, but not this one.
Zack: I’ve got a pretty long list of “least favorite” U2 songs, and this song definitely spends some time at the top of the rotation. I know that it’s not, quite, but this has never seemed like anything more than one of those extra songs they sneak onto a greatest-hits album to sell a few extra copies. Not to knock U2 — Achtung Baby is one of my favorite albums ever, and I like “Desire,” also from Rattle and Hum. But this one sounds sour to me. I bet the Commitments hated it too.
Zack: Despite Lou Gramm’s dreadful, dreadful hairstyle, I really enjoy this song. I can’t help it. It’s such a simple song I could probably play it myself (and I don’t play any instruments), but I appreciate that, the same way one appreciates an old rotary telephone: not too many moving parts, won’t break down too easily, can take a good knock without falling apart, and works even when the power is out.
Scott: When Lou Gramm left Foreigner (the first time), I thought it was because he wanted to rock again, not produce mediocre pop like this. I love this guy’s voice, though. And I think that the follow-up song, “Just Between You and Me,” was a better, more passionate mediocre pop single. (more…)
Mainstream Rock: Steve Miller Band, “I Want to Make the World Turn Around” (1986)
Scott: Man, I really like this tune. Its moodiness and slinky backbeat really resonate. His guitar playing reminds me of Gilmour in his ’80s heyday. I don’t even mind that sax part.
John: Well, it’s no “Bongo Bongo,” that’s for sure. Talk about making a hasty retreat from synthpop to Glenn Frey-ville. Some people call him the Midnight Cowboy — I call him the Gangster of Sludge. (more…)
John: Forget “Lady Bump” — Kath & Kim need to remake this.
Kurt: Ah, the song that introduced the world to the phrase “vegemite sandwich.” Gotta say, though, I love these guys. “Overkill” is one of my all-time favorite songs.
Michael: One of the best pop-up video subjects, due to the Australian to English translation that needed to happen. I love all of Men at Work’s singles, but have yet to delve into the world of acoustic Colin Hay. I know I should. Vegemite, by the way, tastes like pure evil.
Zack: Even after more than twenty years, I simply can’t help but find this song irresistibly catchy. Even though my comprehension of the lyrics has been decidedly sub-par (do they say “chunder” at some point? Because I think that’s southern-hemisphere speak for “ralph”), I still enjoy it.
Dunphy: The rise and fall of Men At Work always astonished me. Their tunes always seemed too much like fully-formed ideas to fit in with the lunkhead 80s pop crowd. I mean, listen to “Down Under” or “Who Can It Be Now” or even “It’s A Mistake” from the Cargo album. These songs were not knocked out by committee.
But it was just like the public realized that the band had some strength in the seams: and so they turned their backs. Colin Hay is very much a student of pop songcraft, you can hear it in his solo stuff, and his voice is sharp as a tack, but he’s bound to the subgenre of the doomed: musicians with star power that will never, ever again be a star.
Robert: I should go back and listen to some old Men at Work songs. Last year I discovered how great “Who Can It Be Now?” still is, and I like the Colin Hay solo songs that I’ve heard; his acoustic version of “Overkill” is terrific. Has he picked up any new fans through Zach Braff’s endorsement of him on Scrubs and in Garden State?
David: Love the shot of Colin eating cereal. This just makes me think of the “Simpsons” episode explaining our sudden fascination, and subsequent boredom, with all things Australia. Lisa sees a boarded up movie theater that has “Yahoo Serious Festival” on the marquee, and she says, “I know those words, but that sign makes no sense.”
Will: I’m swearing on a stack of Bibles right now: I will never get tired of this song, no matter how many times I’ve heard it. Men at Work were one of the first bands I ever fell in love with, and I absolutely devoured every moment of Business As Usual, Cargo, and even Two Hearts; since then, I’ve followed Colin Hay’s solo career and picked up everything he’s ever done:which, if you haven’t been following it, consists of way more albums than you’d ever expect. The guy’s definitely one of the most underrated songwriters of his generation, and it’d be nice to think that, one of these days, the mainstream will embrace that.
But I’ve gotten off track.
This song did more for Australia than even “Crocodile Dundee,” and it introduced an entire generation of Americans to the vile stuff that is vegemite. God bless Men At Work, that’s what I say. And if you say you’re sick of this song, at least check out Hay’s acoustic version before you write it off forever; he’s all but reinvented it, and it sounds fantastic:and this intro that precedes it is hilarious.
Jefito: I’m with Will — Colin Hay’s solo stuff is worth seeking out. All of it, really — even the acoustic-remakes album, and the new one, which Will likes more than I do, but is pretty good no matter which of us you ask. “Down Under” isn’t my favorite Men at Work song, but 25 years later, I’m still not sick of it either.
Scott: What great pleasure this album is to listen to. Here is a case of a band that became too big too soon and they were never able to live up to the hype.
Dunphy: I know that Business As Usual doesn’t have the balls-out rock cache of other, more readily remembered albums from that time, but it’s a solid set of tunes. I’m surprised that it hasn’t had some kind of second life in the pop-rock realm.
Robert: Didn’t Men at Work win the Best New Artist Grammy in 1983? KISS OF DEATH.
Scott: I believe you’re right. They did win Best New Artist.
I’m also surprised that Business: hasn’t gotten a new life. The songs are really well-written, and the band had a great sense of humor (as shown in their videos). On top of that, there was a sense of poignancy that hung over their material that makes it seem timeless.
Darren: I think what killed Men At Work after the initial “Vegemite Sandwich”/Crocodile Dundee/brief stateside infatuation with anything Australian was the fact that Colin Hay wasn’t a heartthrob. Plus, the rest of the band looked like guys who might’ve showed up at an audition to replace Gary Burghoff for the role of Radar on M*A*S*H.
I never dug this song, never bought into the “Men At Work were cool” thing, and never cease to be amazed at Colin Hay’s belief that anyone wants to hear any of his new music. Sure, “Overkill” was a good song, but this Chartburn ain’t about that song. It’s about a song that was seemingly crafted for the sole purpose of annoying Americans, but — surprise, surprise, surprise — we bought a gazillion copies of it instead.
Will: You know, for what it’s worth, Hay doesn’t necessarily believe they do want to hear any of his new music:not anyone beyond his core group of fans, anyway. I mean, Men at Work broke up in the mid-’80s, and when I interviewed Hay earlier this year for Bullz-Eye, this is what he said:
Bullz-Eye: As far as your solo work, do you have a specific favorite album that you feel like didn’t get its just due commercially? I mean, I know some of them barely even got released in the States at all:
Colin Hay: Well, none of them have really done anything, y’know? My solo career is basically only starting in the scheme of things, as far as the mainstream is concerned. I mean, look: my band came out, we sold over 10 million albums or whatever it was of the first two albums, and we were a big band on a big label. You can’t even really try to compete with that, because it’s just a phenomenal experience. And then the solo albums since then, none of them have really done anything to speak of. So what do you do? You just keep going. Look, I have no complaints about anything, really, because I have a great life. So I’m never one to go, “Oh, that didn’t sell, and that didn’t sell.” It’s:what’s the word? (pauses) I’m not quite sure what the word is, but I’ve just kind of been doing the best that I can for the last 15 years, and doing what I thought was the best thing to do. I have a stumbling process. It’s not really that I think that much out; I just record the songs, put them on CDs, and bring them into existence. You can say that maybe I had a run of bad luck, because I was involved with a couple of labels that went out of business, but they were nice people and they heavily believed in the albums; they just ran out of money. But I am really happy working with the label that I’m with right now, because they’re great people, and we have some energy behind it, so that’s a really great thing. I feel like I’ve got some nice partners to work with, which makes a big difference when you’re trying to market a record. There’s a lot of balls you have to keep in the air, and I’m not very good at doing everything myself. I try, but I’m not very successful at it.
Darren: Okay, let me get this right. A millionaire who can’t get arrested with his new stuff being self-depracating in an interview? Say it isn’t so (great, now I’ve just put an Outfield song in my own head).
Heck, I’d probably say the same thing, but, seriously, if the guy’s the kind of artist most artists are, there’s a part of him that is very determined — and very PISSED — that his art isn’t getting the same attention it once did. Imagine a Tiger Woods about twenty years past his prime:stuck near the bottom of the pack every tournament. He may smile & wave, and be humble on the outside, but underneath he’s gotta be one determined guy trying his damndest to get back to the top slot? The big diff, of course, is that Tiger only has himself to blame for a bad showing. Colin can blame the industry, changing trends, people only caring about 1982, etc.
Not saying he isn’t a genuine, nice dude. Genuine, nice dudes can be pissed about things, too. They’ll just frame it in such a way that makes you think they’re okay with it.
Vrabel: (Cut to Vrabel, at the ripe age of 7, dancing around the basement in his Indiana home to this song, singing along at the top of his lungs and oblivious to nearly everything about Men At Work).
Modern Rock: Siouxsie and the Banshees, “Kiss Them for Me” (1991)
Vrabel: Is this our first goth installment? Cool, I’ve been meaning to break out my black eyeliner and cape. This song strikes for me a perfect balance between melancholy and melody.
David: I still love the opening drum line to this. Yes, it was frighteningly mainstream by Siouxsie standards, but come on, Stephen Hague was producing. What did you expect? The guy made his name producing the Pet Shop Boys, fer crissakes.
Scott: My first summer in LA, back when KROQ was a great radio station, this was a staple and man, did this song dig its hooks into me. I only wish that all of Siouxie’s songs were this great.
Kurt: Ugh:bad memories of working in a record store and hearing this crap all the time.
Dunphy: I was never ever a fan of Siouxie Sioux. While this song is pretty, in that early ’90s pop kinda way, it just lays there. It doesn’t make me wanna shake my rump. You all should be mighty grateful for that aspect alone, but considering that this song is supposed to be a danceable track, the groove should be a tad more persuasive.
But she looks pretty good in the video though, don’t she? Usually Siouxie Sioux looks like A Scary Vampire Queen.
Zack: I’ve always been more of a “Passenger” fan when it comes to Siouxsie and the Banshees, but I’ve never really had anything against this homage to the accident-prone and the tardy.
Will: By this time, Siouxsie and her Banshees were winding down even as they were growing all the more commercial. I love this song, and I quite like the album it’s from as well, but it’s so comparatively smooth and mainstream that you’d never, ever believe she was a founding member of the punk movement.
John: I always wondered who sampled this beat first - the Banshees or Chapterhouse for the break in “Pearl.” Whichever, that friggin’ beat was everywhere in the early ’90s. Siouxsie, you’re much better than this. (Although this is better than their final U.S. single, “Oh Baby.”)
Robert: I hadn’t heard this song until today. According to Mojo magazine, Siouxsie has a Banshees-free solo album about to be released (although maybe just overseas for the time being). For some reason the way Siouxsie sang the title of the song “Peek-a-Boo” has stuck with me since I first saw the video. Was that the one Beavis and Butt-head made fun of?
Jefito: I’ll go ahead and be the first one to say it: I can’t listen to Siouxsie without thinking about Beavis. I will now repent for that remark by offering Patty Griffin’s cover of this song (download), sent along by a generous reader.
Michael: I’m with Jeff — I know this only due to its appearance in the house of Beavis. There are a lot of songs like that.
Zack: I’m the same way, except with Isaac Hayes, because he did the theme song to Beavis and Butt-head Do America.
Robert: I’d love for someone to meet Hayes and say, “I loved that song you did
in that movie!”
“Oh, you mean Shaft?” he’d reply.
“No! The animated one.”
“Oh, South Park. Yeah, well, I’m not involved with that show anymore. But I liked the movie.”
“No, not South Park. That, uh : what was it : oh yeah — Beavis and Butt-head Do America! Man, that song was great!”
“Oh, right : I forgot about that one. Thanks.”
Silence.
“Did you ever see a documentary I was in called Wattstax?” Hayes would ask.
“Watt what?”
“Never mind.”
Seven years ago, I was buying bread at a Kroger grocery store in Atlanta. I’d just gotten off work, and it was a little after midnight. I looked over to my right, and two lanes over was Isaac Hayes. Before I could say anything to the cashier, she whispered, “Yep, that’s him.” I kept trying to get a better look, and in the process, almost walked out of the store without the bread.
AC: Savage Garden, “Truly Madly Deeply” (1998)
Zack: Oh. You know, I always thought this song was by someone else. I mean, like, a girl.
Vrabel: I am really looking forward to reading the sharp evisceration this song will receive from everyone, I imagine, but Kurt.
Kurt: Liked some of their stuff, but a song like this is beyond wimpy. Hell, this makes George Michael sound like Slayer.
John: Truly, sadly, weepy. Remember, you have up to a year after your wedding to write your thank-you notes.
Robert: More Aussies to burn! But this time it’s the Air Supply of the ’90s. Maybe the fact that one of these guys came out of the closet a few years ago contributed to my belief over the past decade or so that the Air Supply guys are gay (I partially blame Will Ferrell and Chris Kattan). But they aren’t. Oh well, I don’t like any of their songs either way. Same goes for Savage Garden, actually.
Will: I’m always hearing that I should really like these guys, given that I really enjoy catchy, keyboard-based pop. But this song doesn’t do much for me. Sounds like straight-up adult contemporary stuff that doesn’t move beyond the average boy-band sound.
Jefito: For awhile in the mid-to-late ’90s, it seemed like all you needed to get on the radio was a drum machine, some hair product, and an effeminate singer. (Ten years later, you just trade the machine for a real drummer, crank up the guitars, and call it emo. Zing!) For awhile, I thought these guys were the Backstreet Boys. I actually liked the song they did for that Juliette Lewis Special Olympics rom-com — what was it called, The Other Sister? — but I felt funny about it.
Scott: WTF? I agree that these guys sound just like Backstreet Boys and ‘NSync and all of the other boy bands that were cashing in during the late ’90s. If I never hear this song again, I will not miss it.
Dunphy: If a heterosexual man ever uttered the words, “Yeah, I really like Savage Garden,” I’ll bet you dollars to donuts he was saying it to a woman at the time. I’d almost guarantee it. Yeah, “Truly Madly Deeply” is pretty (which, as seen in the Siouxsie track, may be a kiss of death). The harmonies are strong. But it is as substantial as a backing track for a car commercial.
And it makes me feel oogy in a way I can neither explain nor appreciate.
Zack: If a heterosexual man did say that, his heterosexuality would have been a moot point, because what self-respecting woman is going to sleep with a guy that claims to like Savage Garden?
Robert: Actually, I know a heterosexual man who owns all of Savage Garden’s albums, and he didn’t spend that money to impress any women. More power to him, I say, especially since he’s not ashamed of it.
Jefito: This man’s name wouldn’t happen to be “Robert,” would it?
You’re among friends here, buddy. Let it all out. It’s okay.
Robert: LONG, DEEP SIGH : It feels good to finally be free of that secret shame. But seriously, the guy I’m talking about is named Piero. He’s an American, so don’t draw the conclusion of “Ohhh, he’s an Italian guy. Yeah, they’ll listen to anything.” (I’m not putting words in your mouth — you hate Italians! Admit it!)
But I do have a good story regarding “manly” music and what it’s appropriate for heterosexual men to like and all that nonsense: Last summer I was at the library checking out a few CDs, and at the top of my stack was Pet Shop Boys’ Discography: The Complete Singles Collection and Barbra Streisand’s The Broadway Album (I like her version of “Putting It Together,” which includes cameos by Sydney Pollack and David Geffen as naysaying producers/agents). The library employee who checked out my CDs was wearing a Metallica T-shirt. I almost felt like saying, “Look, I won’t judge you if you won’t judge me, okay?”
Kurt: His name might be Kurt too, who digs that Chicka-Cherry-Cola tune and sought it out thinking it was some new Roxette song.
David: That’s exactly what I thought when I first heard “I Want You.” Total Roxette tribute. I’ll take that song over this one any day of the week.
So, just to double-check here, you found that song sounded like Roxette, and this was a positive development?
Michael: Ugh. Everyone who defended this band, or this song, is insane. Full stop.
Will: If I’m ever going to get a better way to segue into this, I can’t imagine what it’ll be, so:as long as we’re talking about albums you wouldn’t expect a heterosexual man to love and enjoy, I’m totally standing up and acknowledging my enjoyment of Liza Minnelli’s Results.
:::crickets chirping:::
No, seriously! If any of you guys are Pet Shop Boys fans, it basically just sounds like one of their albums, except with Liza singing lead instead of Neil; in fact, she covers “Rent” and “Tonight is Forever,” which makes the similarity even more prominent. (There are also covers of Tanita Tikaram’s “Twist in My Sobriety,” Stephen Sondheim’s “Losing My Mind,” and Yvonne Elliman’s “Love Pains.”) And while it hasn’t made me a fan of her work, per se — I can’t imagine an occasion where I’d ever want or need another one of Ms. Minnelli’s records — there’s something that’s so damned fun about the PSB-produced blend of synth pop, dance grooves, and occasionally overwrought vocals on Results that brings me back to it time and again.
Kurt: And I get shit for the music I like? This sounds like something they might have blasted at Saddam’s palace to drive him out.
David: Will, I have your back, of course. There’s really no way to screw up “Twist in My Sobriety,” and Liza’s version is so off the wall that I can’t help but love it.
Hot 100: P.M. Dawn, “I’d Die Without You” (1992)
Will: I don’t know how you guys feel about PM Dawn:though I’m clearly about to find out, and in spades:but I always loved them. I never knew how to describe them, though. They’re certainly not rap in the general sense of the genre description; if anything, they’re a lush and soulful pop band with occasional elements of hip-hop:but not many, really. I want to say this actually appeared on a soundtrack:”Boomerang,” maybe? I dunno, and I can’t be bothered to research hit. But, anyway, I actually have a cassette single of it somewhere, that’s how much I liked it.
Dunphy: Coming off of the massively popular soundtrack for Eddie Murphy’s Boomerang, “I’d Die Without You” worked its moody magic on several crossover levels. P.M. Dawn was an interesting entity, more in touch with their popular side than fellow hippie-hoppers De La Soul, which probably damaged their careers. If you pinhole yourselves as love-children rappers and not rappers who like to dabble in styles, you’re bound to get left behind. The rise of gangsta and success rap sealed their fate.
Yet, this song on the whole stands up rather well over time. It’s a synthy, sad-sack of a slow jam, the kind that Boyz II Men would turn into insidious self-parody before too long, but I don’t mind listening to it.
David: I’m a big supporter of The Bliss Album, though not so big a fan that I went out and bought a new copy after breaking up with a girl while my copy was still at her apartment. That said, this song never really did much for me. Love “When Midnight Sighs,” though, and even the cover of “Norwegian Wood.”
Robert: I own P.M. Dawn’s first three albums, and I used to own the fourth. I love these guys, and their albums really do hold up for the most part. They’re possibly the only soft-rock rap group on the planet, and as Will somewhat hinted at, Prince Be stopped rapping about halfway through their second album. Not a bad move since he can actually sing: P.M. Dawn hit some pretty spectacular melodic heights on songs like Jesus Wept’s “Sonchyenne” and their 2002 single “Amnesia.” As for “I’d Die Without You,” it’s not one of my favorites. But adult contemporary stations sure did like it in ‘92. I wish those stations had fallen for their similarly arranged cover of “1999″ back in 1995. And if you’ve never heard “Plastic,” P.M. Dawn’s “answer” to KRS-One and his crew pushing them offstage during a performance in ‘92, you should — it kicks ass in ways no one would’ve expected from them.
Kurt: As Journey is to AC/DC, PM Dawn is to Eazy E.
Vrabel: Has anyone else gone back and listened to some of these guys’ CDs in the past few years? They hold up pretty well, as fantastical hippie-rap goes (I always thought of them as sort of like hip-hop’s answer to Sarah McLachlan). This song is a snoozefest, but “Memory Bliss” is a killer.
Scott: Nice song, but where was I when this was a hit? Oh yeah, I was listening to Nirvana and Pearl Jam. I like P.M. Dawn and all, but their m-e-l-l-ow-ness puts me to sleep.
Jefito: I remember seeing a sidebar in The Onion once that read “Will Smith: The Black Man Everyone at Work Can Agree On.” Substitute ” P.M. Dawn” for “Will Smith” and “Rap Group” for “Black Man” (or “R&B Musicians,” if you prefer, Will) and you get an idea of the function these guys filled in the early ’90s. A lot of suburban moms were hearing about militant rap acts (and being scandalized by that awful Sir Mix-A-Lot!) and P.M. Dawn was the soothing, non-violent balm for their worries.
Zack: Every time I think of P.M. Dawn, I think of Tone Def’s solo project in Fear of a Black Hat — a clone called the New Human Formantics. I can’t say I’m impressed with this particular song, but I like a lot of the other ones in their catalogue.
David: Aw, hell yes — a Fear of a Black Hat reference. I loved that movie. Come and pet the pussy!
Michael: I didn’t love “Memory Bliss” as much as everyone else, but they were okay. I just had to put them back with the rest. That’s the way it goes:I guess.
Mainstream Rock: Quarterflash, “Harden My Heart” (1981)
Jason: As a kid, I always had to pass through Quarterflash before I could get to the Queen records in the store. Pissed me off. I like the sax, though.I wonder how many requests Pat Benatar gets for this song.
Darren: Ah, Jason, ya beat me to it. Quarterflash were signed, it seems, for the sole purpose of filling the “Benatar void” that existed for a couple years in the early 80’s while Pat went off and gave birth to her daughter (fathered by guitarist/hubby/lucky bastard Neil Giraldo).
While I admit liking the band in a platonic “you’ll do for now” kinda way, I always knew Benatar was ten times the rocker that Quarterflash singer Rindy Ross was (who, oddly enough, was also married to her guitarist - do the similarities never end?!). The proof? Benatar and Giraldo are still out there hitting us with their best shot:Rindy and her hubby are in a, uh, traditional acoustic folk ensemble.
As for the video, wasn’t MTV regulated by law in the early ’80s to play at least three videos an hour that featured at least one person scrambling down a dark hallway?
Thankfully, of course, through tireless perseverence on the part of David Coverdale, this clause was lifted lifted in favor of mandatory airings of Tawny Kitaen suction-cupping a Jaguar.
Gary: Part of the soundtrack of my high school years. This video was in heavy rotation on our local video show (way before we got MTV). I had a bigger crush on Rindy Ross than Pat Benatar at the time (although looking at the picture Darren linked to, I’m forced to admit she hasn’t aged well, and I’m back to liking Benatar more). Just seeing her in that black leotard got my adolescent juices flowing. Their second album was good too, with “Take Me To Heart,” but after that it was two albums of crap and they were done. And to think they were hip enough back then to play the US Festival, sandwiched in between Berlin and U2 on Rock Day. They even played the World Series Of Rock here in Milwaukee, with the likes of .38 Special, Loverboy, Triumph and Foreigner. Good times, good times.
Jefito: I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something unspeakably awesome about a World Series of Rock featuring 38 Special, Loverboy, Triumph, and Foreigner. What would they call that concert today if the same bands were featured? Other than Thursday afternoon at the Des Moines County Fair, I mean?
Dunphy: A Cry For Help Festival?
Goneroo?
Sounds Of The Ground Down?
WasFest?
The Quarterflash debut reminds me of “The Fly.” Someone walked in to the departure tube with an adult contemporary band, a jazz-rock band, a new wave band and Pat Benatar. Out pops Quarterflash from the arrival tube, with smoke pouring out and pieces-parts falling off. “Harden My Heart” is the hit and is an amiable enough tune. Good, serviceable pop. “Find Another Fool” has a tougher, bad-girl edge to it. There are a bunch of jazz tinged tunes like the solo-heavy “Williams Avenue” and, of course, “Valerie.”
What to say about “Valerie”? Young girl goes to art school. Still with me? Meets Valerie. Still with me? Stuff happens. You know. Art school stuff, not papier mache related. My sister, who owned this record, always tried to believe Valerie was a male foreign exchange student.
Quarterflash. Weird.
John: Not Pat Benatar, but an incredible simulation! Not a big fan of this song, but I loved “Take Another Picture,” especially when they performed it live on Fridays and the lead singer went out into the audience during an instrumental break with an Instamatic and began, yes, TAKING PICTURES. Subtlety be damned!
Zack: A chick in a tuxedo, motorcycles, shifting vapors, a saxophone solo, excessive mascara — how many ’80s cliches can they pack into a single video?
Will: Wow, did Sam Raimi direct this? Because, if not, then based on that opening bit with the lead singer running down the hallway as she’s followed by the camera, we at least know where he swiped his style from:
David: Director Brian Helgeland once told me that one of the first pieces of advice he ever got on filmmaking was, “If you’re not sure how to end the movie, set everything on fire.” I wonder if he directed this video.
Nothing particularly pro or con to say. The sax line is awfully catchy. That unitard does her no favors, though.
Robert: Did he get that advice from Richard Donner, who directed Helgeland’s Conspiracy Theory script as well as Lethal Weapon 3, which ends with everything on fire? Me no likey that Lethal Weapon, especially not the gangs-are-bad subplot.
Zack: And which one of those guys directed Romeo Must Die? That also ended with everything on fire. Also, it sucked.
Kurt: This song was perfect music for the times:somewhere between pop and a hard place. One thing’s for sure, I miss hearing the saxophone in rock.
Gary: Me too. She could really blow. Eddie Money still plays sax, but I can’t think of another rock/pop band that uses sax anymore. Even Chicago.
Jefito: Yeah, that was the first name that popped into my head, too. Poor saxophone — first the EWI comes along, then Kenny G. It never stood a chance.
David: My friend Tim thinks Huey Lewis & the News were a government conspiracy designed to turn teenagers into Stepford children.
Dunphy: See, I thought the chick in Quarterflash played the sax too, but AllMusic seems to indicate someone else was blowin’. I’d hate to think she Ashlee’d her way through all those videos.
As for the sax, look. In good hands, it can be a great addition to a song. In bad hands, it is Curtis Stigers. I would gladly miss the instrument if no one played it barring wanky jazzbos “slumming it.”
Jefito: Curtis Stigers!
Are there any other old critics in the group who still remember receiving the inaugural Curtis Stigers presskit from Arista back in ‘91 or ‘92? They were really playing him up as the Next Big Thing. I still remember one of the couplets they held up as an example of his incredible songwriting talent:
There’s things to do, there’s trains to catch
And my socks just never seem to match
At least it isn’t “use/abuse” or “love/above,” I guess. And hey, he did earn Nick Lowe a pocketful of dough, so he’s all right in my book.
Modern Rock: Depeche Mode, “Enjoy the Silence (1990)
John: Loved it at the time, but if I never hear it for another ten years, I won’t be sorry.
Zack: I’ve always had a soft spot for this song, because it hit the airwaves at about the same time my family got cable, and thus is one of my first MTV memories along with Martha Quinn and all the background music they used during the first season of The Real World. That said, it’s pretty much a barrel of fish in terms of mockability.
Kurt: Not the biggest fan of these blokes, but they certainly have their moments. Hated it when it first came out, but grew to like it over the years.
Gary: I always thought these guys would be better as an instrumental band. I can’t stand this guys droning voice. Halfway through this video I turned off my speakers and enjoyed the silence. Typical Eurotrash.
David: I love Depeche — well, I did until Alan Wilder left the band; now I merely like them — and while most bands’ biggest song is far from their best, this one truly is one of their best songs ever. True story: it started out as a moody ballad, and Alan Wilder told the rest of the band to go away for the weekend, while he reworked it into something more upbeat. When they came back, they heard this, and said, “Holy shit. This is going to be HUGE.” And they were right.
Will: This remains my favorite song on Violator. It’s not my all-time favorite DM album — that honor still belongs to Black Celebration — but I’m in no way surprised that it was their biggest commercial success.
Dunphy: I’m not a big Mode fan. I like “People Are People” and “Dream On.” I’m okay with this tune as well, but I’m put off by the way Dave Gahan shoves the line “All I ever wanted, all I ever needed.” It’s the musical equivalent to writing to the edge of the paperand havingtosmashthewordstogetherandwritingsmallerandsmaller:
Darren: Aside from me never understanding the across-the-board adoration for this band in goth circles (and among the fratboy set), I think this video offers enough evidence to challenge the idea of Dave Gahan as “rock star.” I’m no Robert Plant myself, of course, but I’ve seen music journalists with more charisma. I half expected him to bust into the Revenge of The Nerds theme at any given moment. Anyhoo.
AC: Bob Carlisle, “Butterfly Kisses” (1997)
John: Dammit Jeff, I swear to God, I’ll scratch your eyes out, Mary. How COULD you?!? This is like you pooped in my earhole.
Gary: I know you guys are going to hate on this one, but it is what it is, a simple song about his daughter. And I’m sure a lot of women used this song at their weddings. He used to be in a good CCM band called Allies, and also sang background on some Petra albums. Believe it or not though, he’s a very respected studio musician and french horn player. He’s played on albums from the likes of Dream Theater, Motley Crue, Elvis Costello, David Byrne, REO Speedwagon, Dizzy Gillespe, and Jason & the Scorchers among others.
David: I am proud to say that I still have never heard this song. I remember what an instant hit (and how instantly reviled) it was, but I never listened to stations that played it. So I was safe. I think I’m going to continue that streak as long as I can. Sorry, Jefito, but I’m skipping this one.
Jason: I can also proudly say that I’ve never heard this song all the way through (and I’m not starting now). I think I almost got into a car accident the first time I heard it, though, scrambling for the dial at the first mention of Jesus.
Will: As a father who just got home from a two-week business trip and was tackled by my daughter at the airport as she ran toward me, arms open, hollering, “Ally’s daddy! Ally’s daddy!,” I can in no way dismiss this song’s sentiment. But I can still mock its schmaltzy feel.
Kurt: Oh God, why hast thou forsaken us? What hath we done to incur your wrath?
Dunphy: Look, I listen to some Christian artists. I won’t lie. But I usually can find redeeming musical values with most of them. Not so here. This is strictly the stuff of Hallmark Cards and wedding toasts and not much else. The guts of this thing is that Carlisle isn’t even trying. It’s as if he’s saying to the listener, “This is a letter I sent to my daughter when she was at summer camp. Hope you enjoy it!”
On the positive, it’s not really preachy. You can’t categorize it until the moment Carlisle drops the J-bomb (as in WWJD). On the negative, how many people have contracted life-threatening diabetes from listening to it?
Gary: I wouldn’t even consider it a Christian song. Sure it’s done by a Christian artist, but more of a secular song. Tom Petty even mentioned Jesus in “Free Falling.” I like the song’s sentiment, and I don’t even have kids (that I know of). At least it beats the crap out of other songs artists wrote for about their kids like “Skyler’s Song” by Vince Neil, and even “Tears In Heaven” from Clapton.
Jason: Whoa, Gary. There’s a big difference, I think, between:
Petty: “Loves Jesus”
Carlisle: “She was sent here from heaven and she’s daddy’s little girl. As I drop to my knees by her bed at night, she talks to Jesus and I close my eyes and I thank God for all the joy in my life, oh, but most of all, for butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer.”
Jefito: “Butterfly Kisses” beats “Tears in Heaven”? No, no, no. I mean, not that I’m holding up “Tears” as a pop masterpiece, but it’s loads better than this drivel, and I say that as a proud father who would have melted into a literal, Nick Nolte-type puddle on the airport floor if I’d been in Will’s shoes.
Zack: Excuse me for a second. I’ve got to go grab some Q-tips to clean the blood out of my ears.
Hot 100: Roger, “I Want to Be Your Man” (1988)
Darren: That was one long-ass Jheri Curl commercial.
Jason: What the:? Who the fuck are these guys? I swear I’ve never heard of them OR this song before, and I thought I knew just about every artist on the charts between ‘87 and ‘89, at least:oh wait, I recognize this chorus, vaguely. God, that’s an annoying chorus. Someone’s really excited about their new synthesizer. This is awful. This, however, is awesome. That guy is my new hero.
Kurt:(spits water all over monitor) Easily one of the worst things I’ve ever heard, with a video worthy of a local access channel.
Will: I can never remember. Is this new jack swing? Or is it just tepid R&B?
Dunphy: Bland R&B. No, worse than that — bland ’80s R&B. The talkbox effects on the keys leads me to think these guys thought they were doing something innovative, something Prince-like. Instead, they sound like the soundtrack to R2D2 and C3PO getting it on.
Gary: I barely remember this one, but the vocoder sounds really dated today. These guys were always in the shadow of Parliment/Funkadelic, Kool And The Gang, Gap Band and others from the era and never really made it big. In fact, things got so bad that Roger was eventually shot to death by his brother.
David: I had completely forgotten about this song:and I was okay with that. Actually, I find it a fascinating look into what a man will do to get a crossover hit. He also did a couple songs with Scritti Politti that year. One of which, “Sugar and Spice,” still rocks my world.
Mainstream Rock: Sammy Hagar and the Waboritas, “Mas Tequila” (1999)
Will: Where to start with this? Well, how about that Gary Glitter really deserves a co-write? Several times throughout the duration of the show, I was profoundly aware of the similarity to “Rock & Roll Pt. 2.” But, of course, I was also profoundly aware that it’s one of those songs that screams, “I want the most obnoxious fans in the fucking WORLD!” I mean, I like Hagar well enough as frontman for Van Halen, but as a solo artist, he seems to go out of his way to create a fanbase full of the kind of people that I spend my life steadfastly trying to avoid. “I love to drive fast! I love to drink tequila! I love to think I’m more awesome than I actually am!” Pass.
Robert: A four-minute song about tequila? Cut it in half and get back to me, Sammy. I like to imagine that Hagar and Gary Cherone are e-mail buddies, that Hagar reached out to Cherone in 2000 and said, “Don’t take it so hard. Eddie’s got PROBLEMS, man.” I also like to imagine that David Lee Roth tries to instant-message both of them and each one pretends like he was in the bathroom or making a sandwich at the time.
Gary: Decent song, but not one of Sammy’s best. It seems like a bad attempt to do a song that will guarantee airplay at every sporting event, while promoting his line of tequila at the same time. Plus it rips off Gary Glitter’s “Rock & Roll Part 2.” Definitely a bathroom break/beer run song during a Hagar concert.
John: I think it takes a singular talent to make me sympathize with child molester Gary Glitter.
Poor Gary. Perhaps this is Sammy’s version of street justice?
Taylor: He’s screaming for more tequila because he knows it’ll take a ton of it for anyone to think that this could pass for music. If you’re going to fuck with “Rock ‘n Roll Part 2,” at least make it for something good instead of irreparably retarded.
David: That popping sound you heard was my Lyric Cliche-o-Meter taking its own life.
Dunphy: This is yet another example of a song I know of but didn’t think charted, which is silly. If I don’t own the song in some form, yet I know it, it must have charted. And thank God I don’t own it because this song is dumb. It’s so damn dumb.
Sammy has a great rock voice, perhaps one of the all-time best, but his repertoire revolves solely around getting drunk, stoned or laid, and solely on frat-boy terms. He should rename himself Frank The Tank.
Py Korry: When you have a successful business making high-end booze what’s the point of writing new material? Well, if you’re Sammy, it’s to cross-promote your non-musical product. I gotta hand it to The Red Rocker, though. Even though he likes to exude a “Let’s party” public persona, he’s really all business and understands the concept of “synergy” quite well. Too bad the song to promote his product sucked.
Kurt: Sammy may write the dumbest fucking songs in all of rock. But I cannot say that at times, his melodies don’t rock. For every “Amsterdam” or “I Can’t Drive 55″ he’ll back it up with “Why Can’t This Be Love” or “I’ll Fall In Love Again.” What the anti- is to this song, though, remains a mystery.
Jefito: I used to have a real soft spot for ol’ Clown Pants Hagar. I even bought his first few post-VH solo records. That all ended the first time I heard “Mas Tequila.” “Dumbest fucking songs in all of rock” for $800, Alex.
Scott: After Sam made a kick ass album (Marching to Mars), he decided to become the hard rock Buffett and sell a lot of his fine tequila. I have no problem with Sam ripping off Gary Glitter. The song was never meant to change lives, it’s a frickin’ party song. When he plays this for his multitude of fans toward the end of every show, every person in the crowd is shitfaced. I love Sam and I think he gets a bad rap. But, as anyone who has ever listened to one of his albums can tell you, he could care less what we think of him.
Jason: I think I may have, in a previous Chartburn or TWIR, discussed my disappointment with Sammy when I saw him play with VH in ‘04. He annoyed the hell out of me. Therefore, I’m abstaining from watching this video.
Modern Rock: XTC, “The Mayor of Simpleton” (1989)
Scott: Great, great, great, great song. From the waining days of 120 Minutes, right before the dawn of Nirvana, came this beautiful song. No snark here, my friends.
John: Love these guys, but honestly, I felt this was one of their weaker efforts, especially when taken against Oranges and Lemons as a whole. A little too cute for Andy’s good, here. “King For A Day” is much better.
Robert: Great song. And I love “Dear God” and “The Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead” and “Ball and Chain” too. Actually, I want to hear more XTC now. Anyone got any recommendations about where I should start? Is there a good, affordable compilation I should buy first?
Jason: I have to give credit to Jeff for changing my mind about XTC. For years, people waxed rhapsodic about Skylarking (especially after hearing I was a Jellyfish fan), and when I finally listened to it, I didn’t like it. I gave it a couple years, went back, and still didn’t care for it. Don’t know why. It just didn’t resonate with me. Jeff sent me a mix of his favorite XTC songs, and I think I loved just about every single song. Of course, “The Mayor Of Simpleton” was on there, and has become one of my favorite of the bunch.
Taylor: These guys sound like they’re not breathing correctly while they’re singing and that bites my nerves a bit, but I love the song otherwise.
Py Korry: What a great song! When I first heard this song in 1989, it immediately when into “high rotation” in the mix tapes I used to make for my car. I think XTC were in top form in crafting such a catchy pop song never really made it out of modern rock realm. This one could have easily crossed over to CHR/Top 40.
Will: I love love love this song. And this album. And, frankly, just about anything Andy Partridge does. (Notable exception: his recent Monstrance album, which was excruciating.) I actually bore a very vague resemblance to Partridge during this era:or, at least, I thought I did. I may have been the only one who believed it to be so. Eh, whatever. Kudos for the “Avengers”-themed video, whcih works better here than in the Pretenders’ similar attempt in “Don’t Get Me Wrong.”
Jefito: “Mayor of Simpleton” overrated? What the — how in the — did you — ?
Kurt: Typical “alternative for the sake of being alternative” quirk pop. Annoys me overall, but like I said, as far as melody: catchy. But lyrically? As dumb as “Mas Tequila.”
David: I think my head’s about to explode. Debating the lyrical of prowess of Andy Partridge, and how it compares to that of Sammy Hagar, might be the most unintentionally funny thing I’ve ever read.
Jefito: What? That song is loaded with clever lines. Comparing it to Hagar’s most retarded drinking anthem — one he didn’t even bother writing music for — is just crazy. I’m worried about you, Kurt.
“If depth of feeling is a currency,
Then I’m the man who grew the money tree.”
One of my all-time favorite couplets.
Kurt: Anyone who rhymes “song” with “shun” worries me. I looked up the lyrics. Great, ironic idiocy. Never got it, never cared to. Must be my old age.
Dunphy: Well, “I just shun” rhymes with “simpleton”. They just bounced the rhyme scheme. Overall though, you have to admit, Sammy overdoes the boho-pagan-party-dude schtick a bit. Even if this song is hung up on the late-’80s jangle sound (gotta love the chorus pedal, eh?) it is hard to find fault with XTC. They’re smart but not crushingly so like, say, They Might Be Giants, where they’re so impressed with how many encyclopedia references they can jam into a tune that they forget the tune itself. And they make with good, solid pop.
I wish they were still around, but all signs indicate that Andy Partridge has moved on to other things.
Will: Actually, the problem is that Colin Moulding has moved on to absolutely nothing at all, which necessitated Partridge doing something on his own.
Dunphy: To be blunt about it, Moulding’s contributions to the Apple Venus discs weren’t much to jump up and down about anyway. I kind of wish Partridge and Gregory would try out the duo thing awhile and let Moulding “tend to his fruit”:
David: I always thought of Colin as Steve Young to Andy Partridge’s Joe Montana. He’s quite a good songwriter, but he’s playing second fiddle to one of the all time legends. Who doesn’t love “Frivolous Tonight”?
Jefito: Well, me. But then, I didn’t like any of his songs on that last pair of albums…
David: Not even “Standing in for Joe”? Granted, it’s no “Wheel and the Maypole,” but I liked it that Andy stepped aside once in a while.
Gary: Andy Partridge looks like Elton John in this video. Never got into this group, and this reminds me why. Okay song, but boringly bad vocals. Even Todd Rundgren producing an album couldn’t help them in my ears. I never knew Pat Mastelotto was with these guys, though! He played with Mr. Mister, the Rembrandts, and King Crimson. What was he doing slumming with XTC?
David: He plays for Mr. Mister and the Rembrandts, but it wasn’t until he drummed for XT-freaking-C that he started slumming. Only in Chartburn would you read such words.
Kurt: Because what you hipper-than-thou in the room forget, taste is subjective. Hey, even Creed has its fans.
Gary: Ask any music fan on the street to name a Mr. Mister song and a XTC song. Bet most will come up with more than one Mr. Mister song and none for XTC. I consider myself pretty well versed in music, but until this song came up in this week’s Chartburn, besides “Dear God,” I couldn’t tell you another song by them at all.
Dunphy: And if you ask anyone on the street the lyrics to “My Humps,” they’ll probably know that too.
1. Love on a Farmboy’s Wages
2. Sense Working Overtime
3. It’s Nearly Africa
4. Summer’s Cauldron
5. Grass
6. Earn Enough For Us
7. Big Day
8. Dear God
9. Mayor of Simpleton
10. King for a Day
11 Your Dictionary
12. We’re All Light
13. Generals and Majors
Dunphy: From the department of misheard lyrics: I was never big on studying catechism, which infuriated the ruler-wielding nuns: So I always heard, “Carry a laser down the road that I must travel.”
Py Korry: That’s better than mine: “Cari yay..dah:dah:dah:road:must:.avel.”
Kurt: I’m calling Bravo Sierra here:I’m about musically knowledgeable as they come and I couldn’t tell you what the majority of those XTC songs you listed are. Gary is 1000% correct:more people would defintely know Mr. Mister over XTC.
David: Yes, but does that make them better? More people know “Macarena,” but does that make Los Del Rio one of the best bands of all time?
I can’t believe I’m wasting this much time debating whether XTC is better than Mr. Mister. What planet is this?
Dunphy: Look, I’ll agree with you that people in general will know Mr. Mister over XTC. And it may be subjective for me to say XTC holds up better than Mr. Mister, but I don’t hear anything terribly unique about Messrs. Mister either. It could be Chicago’s “Hot Streets” for all I know on passing listen.
Give me this much: XTC cannot be confused with anyone but XTC (which is why I like ‘em so much).
Kurt: I didnt say better:but Gary said better-known and I’m backing that up. Again, remember, taste is a subjective thing. I’d say personally Journey shits over 99.9% of the acts discussed here, but some would think otherwise. Doesn’t mean either of us are right or wrong:just means we dig different things.
David: Jefito, we should set up a battle of the bands bracket and have your faithful readers vote. Round 1: Mr. Mister vs. XTC. What do you think the Vegas line would be on that?
Jefito: You know, that’s an interesting idea. I’m not sure how I’d organize it, but it’s an interesting idea. It does sort of run counter to one of the main ideas behind my blog, though, which is that everyone is worth listening to, and everyone sucks sometimes. Put another way, I would hesitate to try and (even half-jokingly) ‘prove’ that XTC is better than Mr. Mister.
(Even though they were.)
And anyway, I think everyone here knows, deep down, that if you were to approach a random person on the street and ask them if they know more songs by XTC or Mr. Mister, they’d just blink at you. XTC had what, one Top 40 hit, and Mr. Mister had two. And both of them were on the radio over 20 years ago. I think the difference between the two bands lies in cultural impact — Andy Partridge didn’t sell many records, but he influenced a lot of songwriters. I don’t think anyone — even Richard Page — would say the same thing about Mr. Mister.
AC: Journey, “When You Love a Woman” (1996)
Taylor:[excerpt from a message from the music police to Steve Perry:]
“Listen, Steve, I’m sorry, but: well, there’s a been a mistake. Journey was never supposed to make it past the ’80s. I’m not really sure how you managed to sneak into the ’90s - I think our team was still dealing with all the grunge rip-offs. Anyway, uh, if you could destroy all material produced by Journey in the ’90s, that’d be great. To be frank, the only reason we let you stick around in the first place is so that the drunks in the ’70s and early ’80s would have something besides Jimmy Buffett. But after that, Sammy Hagar took over. Sorry. We had to give someone else a shot, you know?”
John: I’ve never heard this before. Nothing new, really, but no one holds it against Interpol for recording the same album over and over, do they?
Kurt: The rest of you can hate all you want, but this is one of the greatest power ballads of all time. Journey remains a classic American rock band. Some 25 years on, “Don’t Stop Believing” can still make a run at the charts. Doubt we’ll be seeing that from any act of the last 10 years.
Jefito: Don’t underestimate the power of nostalgia, Kurt. A quarter of a century from now, your great-great-grandchildren could very well be boogieing to a surprise reissue of Britney Spears’ “Toxic” after it’s featured in the closing moments of Survivor’s umpteenth season. And “When You Love a Woman” is, as my daughter would say, “powerful stinky.”
Will: Journey’s last album with Steve Perry, which snuck out when most of the world could’ve cared less. It’s not groundbreaking, but it’s got that instant familiarity that I really like.
Gary: Of all the Journey ballads, this is one of my favorites, and besides “Castles Burning,” one of the only great songs on a dissapointing reunion album. Great guitar break from Schon, and Perry still sounds great. Who knows what might have happened if Perry had been up for touring for this album.
Py Korry: I’m a fan of Journey, but I gotta say that I’m not enthralled with their power ballads. I did see Journey when they released Red 13 and they played a few “rockers” from that CD. Sadly, those songs sent many ‘o folks to get beer while they stuck around for the ballads sung by the “other” Steve:Steve Augeri.
Dunphy: The power ballad in general irks me. It is a transparent grab at crossover success and is seldom done with grace. That really comes through on the Escape album where the biggest singles are my least favorite tracks (barring “Who’s Crying Now”). I like “Still They Ride” quite a bit even though the lyrical imagery is hackneyed.
And the primary reason I bought the album all those years ago? The B-side of the “Who’s Crying Now” 45 was an edit of “Mother, Father,” which may have been the band’s last truly great rock tune.
What’s worse than late-period Journey? Late-period Journey trying to sound like Bryan Adams, and buster, that’s exactly what this is. You could very easily mash this tune into “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You (And You’ll Like It, Or Else!)” and the two would be rendered indistinguishable from each other.
One really appreciates the song solely for the return of Steve Perry, after having rolled the stone away from the tomb on the third day, lighting down from heaven and greeting Apostles Neal, Jonathan and What’s-His-Name, commanding them to “rock on, but gently, oh so gently.” Once the transcendence has past, you’re left with a nugget of holy crap.
Finally, and this really needs to be addressed: is is just me or is there a definite thread of violence between Perry’s lyrics and the threat of shooting or killing girlfriends in those earlier Journey albums?
Robert: Good call on the Bryan Adams rip-off! I remember when this came out, Journey’s comeback album had its own infomercial in the fall of ‘96. My favorite part of Paula Abdul’s American Idol scandal a few years ago was that Abdul supposedly told contestant and boy toy Corey Clark to sing Steve Perry’s “Foolish Heart” in one of his auditions because Idol judge Randy Jackson was friends with Perry, having played with Journey in the ’80s. The footage of that audition ends with Jackson clapping and saying something like, “You know Steve Perry’s my dawg, right?”
Py Korry: Recounting as many Journey lyrics as possible, I’m just not aware of the kind of violent lyrics you speak of, Dunphy:
It was a hot and steamy night,
Then Frankie pulled his gun in sight.
He said, now Suzi, don’t you lie.
Did Stevie, did he catch you with another guy?
Standing in the line of fire its gonna shoot ya.
Standing in the line of fire its comin’ to ya,
Its goin’ through ya.
There are others, but this is the one I remember off the top of my head. I recall that the lyrics suddenly had a firearms-kinda’ bent to them:
Py Korry: Now THAT’S impressive. And here I was trying to recount something in “Open Arms” where Steve Perry suggests strangling or perhaps suffocating his girlfriend with a pillow.
David: As evil Willow would say, “Bored now.” I actually like a lot of Journey (I second the ups for “Mother, Father” and “Still They Ride”), but this is just lame.
Scott: Someone mentioned that this album was released in the mid ’90s and no one cared. Not true! It debuted in Billboard’s Top 10! Not band for a band everyone calls a joke. Not me, though. I love Journey. I think Steve Perry is an ass for the shit he pulled with the band, but I love this music. And this ballad, I feel, was their most assured and mature. Finely crafted and well played all around. the rest of the album has some killer guitar work, too.
Hot 100: Billy Idol, “Eyes Without a Face” (1984)
Gary: Ahh, another great ’80s song with a completly awful video. No clue what the lyrics mean, but it’s still such a cool song. Billy’s singing like a lounge lizard over the synths in the beginning, then Steve Stevens comes in and wails on the guitar. This was Idol’s first Top 10 hit in the US and it still sounds good 23 years later. Just can’t watch the video anymore.
Kurt: AOR masquerading as punk, Billy at this point was about as hardcore as Duran Duran. Good tune, if a bit overproduced by his own standards.
Will: Billy Idol does a ballad! Nice one. I used to love this song. In fact, I pretty much loved anything Billy did up ’til “Mony Mony.” (Now THERE’S a song I could get rid of forever and be quite comfortable with.) Anyone ever heard Paul Anka’s version of this song? Seriously. It’s better than you’d think.
Jason: What passed for “badass” in the early ’80s just wouldn’t fly now; now, in order to be badass, you have to pretty much scream bloody murder into a microphone. Billy Idol was an actual singer, and he’s crooning the hell out of this ballad. I swear, with a different arrangement and maybe some horns, I could hear Sinatra singing it.
He has two rock classics to his name. Even if you can’t stand the songs, “White Wedding” and “Rebel Yell” are going to be around long after my criticism has dispersed. But the he has these bizarre pop tunes to contend with. “Dancing With Myself”? Is that some sort of ode to tenderizing the tube steak? And if it is, what do we make of “Eyes Without A Face,” or as I refer to it, “Eyes Without A Face-ace-ace-ace”? Is it some sick fetish for potatoes? Is it about a hot opthomologist? Is it about getting kicked in the nards so hard you pop your peepers out of your noggin?
Either way, it’s a harmless piece of synth pop that anyone could have done in the ’80s. Case in point? Billy Idol did it! Prosecution rests!
Taylor: As nonsensical as it is (both by title and in relation to everything else about Billy Idol), I really like this song.
Py Korry: Is is me, or does “Eyes Without a Face” has a similar quality to “Drive” by The Cars? I really have very little to say about this song, except that my step dad had a great mis-heard lyric when listening to it back in 1984:
Dad: “Hey, you know that new Billy Idol song?”
Me: “Yeah.”
Dad: “What’s he saying in the chorus?”
Me: “Eyes without a face:”
Dad: Is THAT what he’s saying? Wanna know what I thought he was saying?
Me: Sure.
Dad: “How’s about a date.”
Good times.
Robert: Good call on the Cars rip-off! Wait, which came first? Didn’t they both come out in ‘84? “Dancing With Myself” and “To Be a Lover” are the only Billy Idol songs I really like. Wasn’t “To Be a Lover” a big hit in ‘86? I don’t remember hearing it on the radio that much after ‘86, though. Why the prejudice, radio programmers? Do not shun, DJ simpletons.
David: Never thought about the similarity between this and “Drive,” but I’ll be damned if there isn’t one. I love how sad Billy looks in the last verse, yet the lyrics he’s singing mean absolutely nothing. Now everybody spank their asses four times fast.
When you hear the music you make a dip
Into someone else’s pocket then make a slip.
Steal a car and go to Las Vegas oh, the gigolo pool.
I’m on a bus on a psychedelic trip
Reading murder books tryin’ to stay hip.
I’m thinkin’ of you you’re out there so
Say your prayers.
How sweet. Oh, and the ladies are singing “Les yeux sans visage” in the
chorus, in case anyone wondered.
As those of you who regularly visit Kurt’s place are already aware, he decided to hang up his cleats this week. Aside from being an overall crappy thing, this left his weekly multi-blogger chart-centric snarkfest without a home. This was unacceptable, so from here on out, expect to read the rechristened Chartburn in this space every Friday. Some changes are around the corner — we’ll be goofing on more than just the rock charts soon — but the overall spirit (specifically, “I can’t fucking believe that was a hit”) will remain the same. Enjoy!
The Moody Blues, “The Voice” (1981) Kurt: I NEVER got these guys. Is there anything they’ve recorded that wasn’t instantly snooze-inducing?
Scott: I loved this song when I was a kid and it still brings back pleasant memories. It’s more poppy than the prog rock they created in the ’70s. This one holds up considerably well. Much better than “I Know You’re Out There Somewhere.”
Jefito: The list of things that have held up better than “I Know You’re Out There Somewhere” includes Teddy Ruxpin, the Golden Girls spinoff series Golden Palace, and Mannequin Two: On the Move. I’m not saying “The Voice” is or isn’t a good song — I actually haven’t listened to it, I only included it here because I thought it was funny that the Moody Blues had a “mainstream rock” hit — but that particular comparison might not have been the most persuasive.
Scott: Don’t forget that Golden Palace introduced the world to Don Cheadle:but yeah, it blew. I’m not saying this, or anything else the Moody Blues have ever done is gold (except the end of “Nights in White Satin” where the dude talks gobbleygook over the strings. The strings on that part of the song are brilliantly spooky and sad at the same time), but I still like this song.
John: Major, MAJOR geek alert: I loved this song soooo much as a kid, I’d listen to it over and over (I had taped it off the radio - HOME TAPING IS KILLING THE INDUSTRY!) and make up my own sci-fi TV show like Space: 1999 or The Starlost where this was the theme song. ‘Cuz it sounded like it should be one.
I can’t believe I just admitted that.
Mike: Love the 30 seconds of pretense at the front of the clip. Never heard it before; it’s a bland inoffensive little rock song. It sort of reminds me of Dire Straits with the synths and “Sultans” drumbeat.
Joe: I have an insane love for all things Moody Blues — yet I don’t own a single album of theirs. Maybe it’s because they take me back to a blander time when lil’ Joe was oblivious to the concepts of “life,” “mortgage payments” and “50 hour work week” and could dance in his underwear to Uncle Will’s Moody Blues records when he had the house to himself. This song and “Your Wildest Dreams” always bring a smile to my face.
Will: I gotta tell ya: I’ve always had a soft spot for the later Moody Blues material. The “Nights in White Satin”-era stuff is what gets all the glory, but I love singles like this one, “I Know You’re Out There Somewhere,” and even “Say It With Love.” It’s definitely adult contemporary pop, but it’s catchy, well-produced stuff, and I dig it.
Jefito: Will, you’ll be excited to know that “Say It With Love” will be the subject of a Cassingle Vault post one of these days. All I need to do is work up the intestinal fortitude necessary to put myself through a Moody Blues single from 1991:
David: Put me in the group with the Moody Blues sympathizers. My older sister had this record, and while “Gemini Dream” was the first single out of the gate, this was the song that always fascinated me (I blame the synth washes in the chorus). And while they may have suckered me later with “Your Wildest Dreams,” they didn’t fool me the second time with “I Know You’re Out There Somewhere.” Hell, “Somewhere” even had the exact same, “improvised” bass fill that “Your Wildest Dreams” had. Listen, if you dare.
Can you believe that Tony Visconti produced both of those songs? AND Adam Ant’s Vive Le Rock? Couldn’t he have just done gay porn like everyone else with a money problem?
Py Korry: Awwww yeah, Moody Blues! I loved this album, and love the Moody Blues. Their early albums are the best (duh!), but this was a pretty strong effort by the group — who added Patrick Moraz on keyboard. Alas, Patrick’s contribution seemed to dominate the group’s output after that, and most of their stuff really sucked. But the entire Long Distance Voyager album is really wonderful — even the odd stuff Ray Thomas does on the last three songs.
Gary: Good comeback for the band. They hadn’t done an album since 1978 and prog wasn’t exactly big in 1981 anymore. This is a good pop tune with a great hook that got them back on the radio. I would have sworn that Jeff Lynne produced this album, because of lot of it sounds just like early ’80s ELO, especially “Gemini Dream,” which also happens to be one of their best songs.
Glenn Frey, “You Belong to the City” (1985) Kurt: Amazing that in the old days, a band could crank out solo artists and have them all be successful, no matter how awful the song. Enter exhibit A into evidence.
Scott: Glenn, Glenn, Glenn. What happened to you, man? This song is so MOR, it sucks worse than Eagles MOR. And that sax:every second he’s onscreen in Jerry Maguire is better than this song!
Jefito: I’m troubled, Scott, by your intimation that there was a time when Glenn Frey did not suck. (And Kurt, “You Belong to the City” can’t be exhibit A when you’re talking about the guy who recorded “Sexy Girl.”)
David: No, Jeff, there was never a point where Glenn Frey, on his own, did not suck. “Smuggler’s Blues,” are you fucking kidding me? “Better in the USA” (which he later sold to Pepsi)? “The Heat Is On”? Dog shit, dog shit, dog shit. Someone mentioned “The One You Love,” and I had to laugh when Taylor Dayne stole that vocal melody a few years later for “Tell It To My Heart.” Hate Henley all you want (Lord knows, he made it easy to do so). But his ’80s output at least had some integrity. Frey, on the other hand, was a sellout from day one. Didn’t they call him Teflon Don, for all the coke he snorted?
Scott: There are two times I can think of when Frey didn’t suck. 1.”The One You Love” — Despite the trashcan snare drum (which I think he stole from Henley while he was out cavorting and snorting with Stevie Nicks), it is a really heartbreaking love song that is one of his most underrated hits:if he ever had hits:and 2.”Part of You, Part of Me” — which I love for personal reasons.
John: All I can say is I remember hearing this song about once every 10 minutes in 1985. That’s not a happy memory.
Joe: Smoooooth jazz without any jazz, of course. Not bad — I’d rather listen to this than the Stones or the Doobie Brothers — but I could go without hearing it ever again and not miss a thing.
Mike: Instantly recognized it. Didn’t know it was Glenn Frey, but it’s hardly surprising. I sort of like “Smuggler’s Blues,” which I think is contemporaneous with this. It’s entertainingly cheesy. This, on the other hand, is indefensible sax-inflected pablum of the first order. All who are associated with it should be flogged.
Kurt: It’s scary to think that my favorite Eagles tune was sung by Timmy Schmidt and not Henley, Frey or even Walsh. (”I Can’t Tell You Why,” for those of you keeping score.)
Scott: Kurt, my favorite Eagle song was sung by Randy Meisner (”Try and Love Again”). Boy, are they a frustrating band. They made some truly memorable music, but I can’t stand Henley. CAN’T STAND HIM. (Sadly, I like some of his solo material, too). Kicking out Don Felder was low.
Speaking of Eagles solo material, does anyone remember Felder’s solo “hit,” “Bad Girls” (I believe that was its name)?
Gary: I agree, kicking Felder out was shitty. There was no real reason except for greed. Felder has a new tell-all book coming out and rumors are that the Eagles’ new album and tour are on hold because of it and some other litigation. One of the greatest, but most screwed up bands ever.
As far as “Bad Girls” goes, great song and really strong album from him. And don’t forget “Never Surrender” from Fast Times At Ridgemont High and the two songs he did on the Heavy Metal soundtrack. Much better than Frey’s solo output.
Will: I got fried on Frey long before the ’80s were over.
Kurt: As a person, Henley annoys to no end, but musically, I love most of his work.
The only Felder I can remember is the song from Heavy Metal.
Jeff V.: I love the sax riff in “City” — so dark, so meaningful, so indicative of the drug trade. Do we have Clemons to blame for the irrational, nearly masturbatory sudden reliance on sax riffs in quasi-rock songs of the mid-’80s?
Py Korry: Glenn Frey:the 80s:the air is ripe with the stench of sellout:the music is forgettable : He appears on Miami Vice:Will Ferrell and Ben Stiller make fun of him on SNL:And I got nothing else. Out!
Gary: I’m not sure which movie/TV song he did was worse. This one, “Smuggler’s Blues” or “The Heat Is On.” Frey wrote this and “Smuggler’s” with longtime collaborator Jack Tempchin (who also co-wrote “Peaceful Easy Feeling”) so I’ll go with the Harold Faltermeyer written “The Heat Is On.” All three, though, are perfect bathroom or bar break songs though. I did really like this song when it came out, but endless replays over the years have completly burned me out on it.
Scott: Has there ever been a Felder Greatest Hits? Probably an EP: I thought he played on “Dirty Laundry,” or was that Walsh?
An old friend of mine and staunch Eagles fan loved telling the story about the band towards the end of the run, and during a show, Glenn walked back to the drum kit, pointed at Don and said, “Only three more songs ’til I kick your ass!”
David: God, we haven’t even talked about the biggest offender in Frey’s catalog, which made Jefito’s “In defense of instrumentals” piece: “Sexy Girl.” Wow, was that a bad song.
The Doobie Brothers, “The Doctor” (1989) Kurt: Only in the ’80s could a washed-up act be successful, especially when they looked like the Doobs. Somewhere Fred Berry is rolling in his grave.
Scott: Horrible. Just a bad, frickin’ horrible song. Make it stop.
John: This was like their big ’80s comeback. I even remember MTV getting on board with this one. What were we thinking? Doobies minus McDonald equals PAIN!
Mike: Never heard this one, and since Jefito provided us with a YouTube link to a Kids Inc. version (thanks, real nice of you), I feel I should abstain from comment.
Jefito: I’ve been waiting for someone to notice that Kids Incorporated video. A gold star for you, Mike!
Kurt: For once, knowing a crappy song in advance paid off since I had no need to click the link. Now I feel this overwhelming compulsion to put myself through that pain and click it.
Jason: After watching it, Mike called me and said “Why weren’t YOU in Kids Incorporated?” I think I’m insulted.
Will: I associate this song with Queen’s The Miracle, since both albums came out in the same wave from Capitol:and while “The Miracle” ain’t the best thing Queen’s ever done, it sure as hell beats this piece of crap.
Kurt: God, for putting Queen and the Doobs in the same thought, I have a right mind to drive down the bay and slap your face, Will.
David: I have made my feelings for Michael McDonald well known to this group, which resulted in at least one censure request. Mickey McD isn’t on this record, and I have to say that:that Kids Incorporated video is the single greatest video on YouTube. Ever. I’m cured. I now love the Doobie Brothers. “Oh black water, keep on rollin’:”
Py Korry: The Doobies were still recording in 1989? I have never heard of this song, but I am surprised to see that it charted. Then again:1989 the Doobies were so far off my radar screen that they could have been playing a free concert in the Quad at San Francisco State University (where I went to school in 1989) and I still wouldn’t have shown up.
Gary: An okay song and album, but nothing special. But how about this combo: The Doobies and Kansas are touring together this summer. Weird pairing.
The Lemonheads, “Into Your Arms” (1993) Gary: Uh, who?
Kurt: Remember when Evan Dando was the next big thing? Nothing more than 1993’s version of Jared Leto.
Scott: I always liked this song. Man, talk about a waste of talent. This guy could really write pop gems.
Mike: Evan Dando is one of those ’90s musicians who irritated the high hell out of me because he never really seemed like he was trying very hard. He couldn’t really sing, he couldn’t really play. He threw the vibe of being in music solely for the chicks and to avoid real work (understandable, but annoying just the same). Predictably, I HATE this song. The lyrics are indefensibly stupid. They are almost early Beatles-esque in th
