Posts Tagged ‘Jim Vallance’

Bottom Feeders: The Ass End of the ’80s, Part 70

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As the days go by, I’m learning more and more that my son, who’s now one year old, seems to respond to music. Whenever my wife turns on CMT or I pop on a record, he stops in his tracks, stares at the noise coming out of the big machine, and then starts bobbing his head — actually, his entire upper body — to the tunes.

So, as of last Thursday I’ve decided to play him a “classic” record each morning as we’re getting ready for the day — you know, with the hope that he’ll grow up liking daddy’s music (God help him). I’ve had four opportunities so far and I’ve chosen Peter Gabriel’s So, Arcadia’s So Red the Rose, the Time’s Ice Cream Castles, and INXS’s Kick. He seemed to like Peter Gabriel and was dancing all over the place during “Red Rain” (the first time I’ve ever seen anyone dance to that song). He also bobbed his head quite a bit during INXS’s “Guns in the Sky,” and Arcadia’s “Election Day” had him swaying back and forth. Unfortunately, Morris Day and the Time seemed to do nothing for him, but I still have plenty of formidable years ahead to get my son to blow his funky horn like dad.

Now, back to the ass end of the 1980s, i.e. songs that charted below #40 on the Billboard Hot 100 during the Reagan years, featuring our final week of artists whose names begin with the letter P.

Billy Preston
“I’m Never Gonna Say Goodbye” — 1982, #88 (download)

Billy Preston & Syreeta
“One More Time for Love” — 1980, #52 (download)

Billy Preston’s smash duet with Syreeta, “With You I’m Born Again” puts me to sleep, so if I’m listening to Billy’s singles chronologically, I just never get to these. Man, “With You” must be the slowest ballad to chart in the decade. Not like either of these tunes here are barnburners, either. I’m pretty sure “One More Time for Love” is actually a really good song, but I haven’t been in the right mood to verify that in ages.

Pretenders
“Stop Your Sobbing” — 1980, #65 (download)
“Thin Line Between Love and Hate” — 1984, #83 (download)
“My Baby” — 1987, #64 (download)

Here’s one of those artists that I’m going to learn a lot about by reading the comments. They’re pretty much universally loved, but I, of course, can’t stand their music and think they are way overrated. But as with pretty much every artist I hate, there isn’t one thing I can pinpoint or one moment where I realized it, but there has never been a point in my life where I have cared to hear a Pretenders song. The 1986 #10 hit “Don’t Get Me Wrong” is the closest I come to enjoying one of their songs. I’d be completely content if I never heard any of these three songs again.

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Basement Songs: Roger Daltrey, “Rebel”

basementsongs

Under A Raging MoonI awoke with a knee in my back and a song in my head. Crammed into a bed with Julie and Jacob, I teetered on the edge hanging over a gap between the mattress and the wall. I never expected to have Roger Daltrey screaming in my skull at 9:00 on a Saturday morning. Alas, there he was and there he has stayed all week singing “Rebel,” the Bryan Adams/Jim Vallance-penned tune from his 1985 album, Under a Raging Moon.

Each trip back to Ohio conjures up new old memories. This summer the thoughts of the past have been thicker than ever as I continue to experiment with writing a book. The story I hope to tell deals with my formative years in North Olmsted, the people I was involved with, and the music I listened to the most at the time. Daltrey’s solo record occupied a great deal of time on the turntable. While other songs on Under a Raging Moon received radio airplay and the title track gained attention for its tribute to Keith Moon, this one track, which Adams and Vallance wrote specifically for the Who frontman, was my favorite. It’s raw, emotional, and reflective about returning to your hometown after leaving on your own terms, and I don’t think anyone can inhabit the number like Daltrey did.

Back in the ’80s, while I toiled away my free time in my parents’ basement, I longed for fame and fortune, hoping to become a famous movie director, someone who could change the world with powerful stories only I could tell. My hometown in the Cleveland suburbs felt constrictive, as if I would never achieve my dreams there. It wasn’t just the walls of the basement that were closing in; it was the whole damn city. The world seemed bigger outside the city limits; I felt like I was bigger than North Olmsted. Once I left I never wanted to come back. (more…)