Okay, so I know this is going to sound weird, but there’s a song on my iPod and I have no idea how it got there. Maybe someone sent it to me (if so, thanks!), or I downloaded it, but the simple fact of the matter is that I don’t remember it at all. Better yet, I know nothing about the group or the song except that it’s clearly ’80s and quite good. The group is called Music for Pleasure and the song is “The Human Factor.” So who can tell me something about this mysterious group and song that’s shown up in my world?
Even if you can’t, that’s okay. You can still listen to the songs below. Two more weeks to go until we end the letter M, so here’s the next-to-last one. Enjoy more songs from the ass end of the Billboard Hot 100 chart during the 1980s.
Modern English
“I Melt With You” — 1983, #78 (download)
“Hands Across the Sea” — 1984, #91 (download)
Can you possibly believe that “I Melt With You” didn’t go Top 40? Hell, I can’t believe it didn’t go Top 10. This would definitely go down as a nominee for most recognized Bottom Feeders track. If you’ve never listened to it, tracking down After the Snow, the album whence it came, would be worth your while. “Hands Across the Sea” is from the good but not great follow-up, Ricochet Days.
Molly Hatchet
“Flirtin’ With Disaster” — 1980, #42 (download)
“The Rambler” — 1981, #91 (download)
“Power Play” — 1982, #96 (download)
“Satisfied Man” — 1984, #81 (download)
The first three songs here were produced by none other than Tom Werman, so I’ll let you go back and read about his experiences with Molly Hatchet. “Satisfied Man” was produced by Terry Manning for the album The Deed Is Done, the first less-than-stellar release from the group. I’m not just saying that because Werman didn’t produce the album — their next studio record, 1989’s Lightning Strikes Twice, was produced by him and kind of sucks too.
You know, I have to vent a bit here. I own the whole ’80s catalog of Molly Hatchet, so it’s not a big deal right now. But I was at a record show over the weekend flipping through $2 records and every one of these albums was in there. It made me remember what a pain in the ass it was to find them. No, they aren’t rare or anything. It’s simply that, other than 1983’s No Guts … No Glory, every album cover of theirs looks exactly the same at first glance. Even at second glance they all look the same. So I remembered back to when I was trying to find them without a list in front of me — I’m pretty good at remembering album covers, but damn if it isn’t confusing with this group.
Mondo Rock
“Primitive Love Rites” — 1987, #71 (download)
Mondo Rock were an Australian band that had a decent string of hits from 1981 to 1990 in their homeland. “Primitive Love Rites” is a pretty cool song, and the only one that caught on in the U.S.
First things first. My friend Sam and I were just looking for a little mindless diversion on that November Sunday – privileged with the rare use of an automobile and searching the Chicago Tribune’s weekend section for someplace to drive it. When we saw the listing, buried in minuscule type, it seemed too good to be true – a concert at the Rosemont Horizon featuring the reunited Monkees, the pretty dude from Herman’s Hermits, and a couple other ’60s has-beens, and tickets were only $10! The 5 p.m. start time seemed a bit suspicious – did the Monkees need to play Early-Bird Specials for their geezer fans? – but nonetheless we piled into Sam’s borrowed lime-green Oldsmobile and headed west.
Now, I grew up in a small town in the South – the type where bitter people (mostly Protestants) cling to their guns and religion. So while I grew up a heathen, at least relatively speaking (my family were Unitarians, and we only occasionally practiced that), until I went to college in the Big City I had little experience with the phenomenon known as the Lapsed Catholic. I quickly learned, however, that the Formerly Faithful can be divided into two groups: those who are merely dismissive of the dogmas of their youths, and those who are downright angry. Sam was the angry type … so much so that his back would stiffen at the first mention of religion, and the slightest disagreement over the merits of belief would send him into an apoplexy of cursing and red-faced denunciation. (This trait somehow never completely ruined his friendship with his roommate, who shortly after graduation decided to enter the priesthood. Swear to God.) 
Former Monkee Michael Nesmith closed out the ’70s in a better position than when the decade began. After the Monkees disbanded, Nez knocked around a bit on RCA Records, scoring a sole Top 40 hit with “Joanne” in 1970, then a few lower charting country-rock singles as the years wound on, until he parted ways with the label. It was probably the best move of his career, outside of auditioning for the Pre-fab Four. Free of a major label contract, Nez founded Pacific Arts, a multi-media company specializing in commercials, filmwork, music, and most prescient, music video.