I became a Queen fan the winter before my 14th birthday; a friend let me borrow his well-worn Greatest Hits cassette, and by the time I got to song #2 — “Bohemian Rhapsody” — my life had been changed. Obsessive music freak that I was, even at age 13, I promptly set about obtaining all the Queen material I could find — a task made slightly easier by the recent “20 Years of Queen” reissues by their new American record label, Hollywood Records. The pity, though, was that it was February of 1991, and within 9 months, Freddie Mercury would be dead. The band I suddenly wanted to follow forever was silenced.
Since Mercury’s death, “new” Queen releases have been a mixed bag: on the positive side, Queen fans have been presented with the band’s “final” album (Made in Heaven), two relatively strong livealbums from the ’80s, a couple of accompanying live DVDs, and the Freddie Mercury Solo Collection. On the negative side, fans (American ones in particular) have been bombarded with seven — seven! — greatest hits compilations (the eighth will be released later this month) and have had to endure the relatively depressing “Queen + Paul Rodgers” incarnation, including mediocre studio and live albums that nobody asked for. Queen fans still wait patiently for archival releases, including a long-anticipated, endlessly-postponed box set of rarities.
Lovingly written and compiled by journalist Phil Sutcliffe, Queen: The Ultimate… is 287 pages’ worth of illustrated beauty, featuring multitudes of photos of the band throughout their career — many of them previously unpublished — and scores of memorabilia: concert programs, posters, domestic and foreign 45 singles, LPs, backstage passes, ticket stubs…you name it, it’s here, and there are over 500 photos in all. (more…)
Hi everyone! It’s Friday and it’s time to look back at another Billboard Top 10 from — holy crap, this is from 29 years ago. Anybody else feel really old? Thankfully, I think this is a pretty good week for the charts: good variety, strong songs all around, and some really fantastic videos. Join me, won’t you, as we take a stab at October 11, 1980!
10. Give Me the Night — George Benson 9. Real Love — The Doobie Brothers 8. Xanadu — Olivia Newton-John/Electric Light Orchestra 7. I’m Alright — Kenny Loggins 6. Late in the Evening — Paul Simon 5. Drivin’ My Life Away — Eddie Rabbitt 4. All Out of Love — Air Supply 3. Upside Down — Diana Ross 2. Woman in Love — Barbra Streisand 1. Another One Bites the Dust — Queen
George Benson on roller skates, y’all. Does it get any better?
If you feel like this song’s groove sounds vaguely familiar, it’s probably because it was written by Rod Temperton, former keyboardist for Heatwave, and the man behind much of Off the Wall (and, later, Thriller). Every time I hear a Rod Temperton jam, I’m once again astounded that sounds like this came from a white guy. “Give Me the Night” peaked at #4, making it Benson’s most successful hit, with the awesome, awesome “Turn Your Love Around” right behind it, peaking at #5 in 1981. I’m disappointed that “Lady Love Me (One More Time) only made it to #30. I don’t have much more to say about this song — I’m too busy groovin’.
9. Real Love — The Doobie Brothers
If you buy the Michael McDonald: The Ultimate Collection CD (and you should!) and you import it into iTunes, there’s a good chance that the song titles for the Doobie Brothers tracks will come up like this: “Real Love (ft. The Doobie Brothers).” Now, on one hand, that’s incorrect: these tracks, and others like it, were released under “The Doobie Brothers,” and changing it is akin to changing “Lennon/McCartney” to “McCartney/Lennon.” (Okay, it’s nothing like that, but I just wanted to compare the Doobies to the Beatles for a second.) But in all honesty, these are Michael McDonald tracks featuring the Doobie Brothers. Other than keeping the album as a consistent “Michael McDonald” album, I’m not sure what the reason was for this alteration, other than McD just trying to find one more way to piss off Jeff “Skunk” Baxter. And if that’s the case — bravo, McD! I thought you ran out of ways to irritate Skunk a long time ago. Of course, Baxter was out of the band by the time both this song — and its accompanying album, One Step Closer — were released, and the band was nearing dissolution anyway due to the increased friction that came from essentially being McD’s backing band. Still, “Real Love” is a great song from this era of the Doobies. It’s no “What a Fool Believes” or “Minute By Minute,” but it’s got plenty of soul and a typically great vocal by McD.
That’s right, folks — the most disturbing Halloween EVER! From now until Halloween, the Popdose staff are going to be thumbing through their record collections in search of the music that gives them the worst case of the heebie-jeebies. Up first is Dw. Dunphy, with Jupiter Society’s First Contact, Last Warning. —Anthony Hansen
Musical sound doesn’t frighten me anymore. It did once, when I was young. The sudden, jarring strangeness of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” once freaked me out to no end, a veritable boon to all who wanted to tease a chubby, overly sensitive child. Whenever she felt like being evil, my sister would turn to me and shout, “Mamma mia, mamma mia, let me go!” which would send me running out of the room in tears.
Wimp. Definition of a wimp. Today I recognize the utter campiness of the tune and have grown to love the better part of the Queen catalog. In fact music that once struck me as strange and dissonant has become more attractive, not more repulsive, in my adult years.
But lyrics still have the ability to get in my head and cause the spiders in there to revolt. I’m currently fascinated by — and a whole lotta disturbed by — a group called Jupiter Society. Their sound is prog metal, heavy on the synths, but the scenarios in their lyrics are all Stephen King in space.
An entire letter in a week. You gotta love that, considering R, S, and T will take a few months. Here’s the entire letter Q for you, as we look at songs that charted no higher than #41 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in the ’80s.
P.S. Thanks to those that recommended I purchase Pet Shop Boys’Â Yes. I’m glad I did, as it’s a pretty awesome record. I’ve finally been able to cross that and Loz Netto’s Bzar off my list. I didn’t quite like Loz as much, but thanks to the reader who sent that to me as well.
Stacey Q
“Shy Girl” — 1987, #89 (download)
“Don’t Make a Fool of Yourself” — 1988, #66 (download)
It seems impossible that Stacey Q would have had four hits in the decade, but it’s true. Ms. Q had two dance hits with her group SSQ in 1983 before they decided to just go with the name of their singer and release “solo” material. She had two top 40 hits in 1986 with “Two of Hearts” and “We Connect.” “Shy Girl” was actually on her debut EP in 1985 but released after she had her two big hits. “Don’t Make a Fool of Yourself” is from her third album, Hard Machine.
Q-Feel
“Dancing in Heaven (Orbital Be-Bop)” — 1989, #75 (download)
Checking in at #4 on my Top 80 Songs of the ‘80s list, Q-Feel’s “Dancing in Heaven” to me is the definition of a lost gem. This track was actually way ahead of curve when it was released in 1982 and probably a bit dated when re-released in 1989. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t and still is, totally awesome. It appeared in the movie Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, (1985) but despite this fitting in great during that timeframe, it wasn’t a single then. The voice you hear here popped back up in 1994 with Top 20 single “In the House of Stone and Light,” none other than Martin Page. You gotta love the video here. He’s dressed up like a third string linebacker with a look and mannerism somewhere between Mark Mothersbaugh and Weird Al Yankovic. Seeing this, it’s not surprising they were never a hit.
Can you will yourself into liking a CD or is it merely that the recording is a ‘grower’? The term itself is suspect; it’s almost a prettified way of saying “I listened to it until I liked it.” However, there’s no other way I can honestly define my experience with the latest CD by The Shazam, Meteor. On first listen it wasn’t that I disliked it so much as it did not grab me in the slightest, yet there must have been something swirling around in there because I kept coming back to it. I can now say that it is on regular rotation on our corporate 747, Popdose Force One my car stereo.
There are still some things about the album that don’t quite sit right, not the least of which is a sense of goofiness on some of the songs, particularly “Latherman Saves the World” and “Disco at the Fairgrounds,” but they’re fun. And if you’re not a cantankerous old grouch like I am most of the time, you would probably find the pop silliness immediately endearing. The latter track features the strange collusion of a verse worthy of an OK GO album clashing with the chorus reminiscent of Queen’s lighter moments. It’s not a shock. The album was producer by the storied and enigmatic producer known as Mack, who helmed many a Queen album in his day.
Mack also produced Billy Squier’s breakthrough album Don’t Say No, and damned if the Shazam’s lead guy Hans Rotenberry doesn’t sound a lot like him on the track “Don’t Look Down” — homage, coincidence, or a calculated callback? I’m picking door number three because that song was one of the primary things that brought me back to the whole album in spite of initial indifference. You might recall in a recent review, I took to task a performer for using the term “fuck” in the title because it was unnecessary and inadvertently trivialized a decent song. The same could be said for The Shazam’s “NFU” (or, “not fucked-up enough”) but there is a difference. Because “NFU” is surrounded by more lighthearted material, it doesn’t come off quite as trivial. Unnecessary, sure, but it gets a pass.
The album features a monster hook in the track “A Little Better” co-opting a Zeppelin acoustic groove, and while I don’t think it would have peacefully coexisted with the songs on Houses Of The Holy, I didn’t mind in the least cranking the volume up. It all combines and reasserts my initial question. Did I grow to like Meteor or force myself through doubt and uncertainties in order to like Meteor? The answer is that I like it now and how I arrived at that position is irrelevant. Sometimes you just have to be in the right, or slightly goofy, frame of mind to get what’s coming your way.
Howdy, everybody! Hope you’re all enjoying the last of your summer days, while I sit indoors and listen to ten artists who are likely never be found on the Top 10 — hell, probably the Top 40 — ever again. Let’s take a look back at the week ending August 28, 1982!
I consider myself relatively well-versed in Paul McCartney’s post-Beatles career (though I do not know a single song from Press to Play), and yet I think I need someone who knows his stuff a little better to explain what the difference is between this song — a Macca solo song from Tug of War — and a Wings song. Production-wise, this doesn’t sound much different from “Listen to What the Man Said.” But what do I know. “Take It Away” features Ringo on drums, who also appears in the video with Tug of War producer George Martin on piano. I didn’t like this song the first time I heard it, but like so many of his songs, I just can’t get it out of my head now.
9. Wasted On the Way — Crosby, Stills & Nash
In 1982, Crosby, Stills & Nash peaked here at #9 (their second highest charting single behind 1977’s “Just a Song Before I Go”), and also had a #18 hit with “Southern Cross.” Do you think they were thinking, “Hello, ’80s!”? Because that certainly didn’t happen. Not that it matters, but “Wasted On the Way” was their final Top 40 appearance.
Interesting story behind Daylight Again, the album containing the single: it was intended to be a Stills & Nash project, mainly due to Crosby’s never-ending drug problems. They went straight to the B-list for possible replacements, including Art Garfunkel and the Cryptkeeper Timothy B. Schmit, but the folks at Atlantic Records pretty much told ‘em they had to get Crosby or the album wasn’t happening. Crosby and Nash tried to hold their ground, even paying for the recording sessions out-of-pocket, but eventually relented and asked Crosby to join the project. Personally, my imagery goes straight to Crosby in a Hawaiian shirt, being dragged on his back by his ponytail into the studio while eating a slice of pizza, never quite realizing what’s happening, and the scary thing is that it might not be far from the truth.
For all that I love harmony and acoustic music, I’ve never been much of a CSN fan. One of the guitarists in my band is always asking me why I don’t care for CSN, so I was excited to tell him that I actually like this one. You know what he said? “Oh, that one’s so wimpy.” I said, “…As opposed to what?” Either way, I do think this is a nice song. I think the instrumentation on the studio version is pretty much unnecessary; I like this live version from 1982 instead. You really do get the sense that Crosby has no idea where the hell he is. Check out the part where he makes the “shhh” motion, either to an already-quiet audience or the goblins doing a rain dance in his head. It doesn’t matter, though; they sound fantastic.
fun. is one of those bands that take all the music that they love, throw it in a blender, and pour the resulting mixture into an album. In this case, the album is called Aim and Ignite (Nettwerk), and while the whole is a bit less than the sum of its parts, it’s an interesting and unusual listen.
The band’s main strength is to be found in the songwriting. The production is another story. There’s nothing basic about this album, and Mies van der Rohe’s famous proclamation “Less is more” did not figure into this particular equation. There are strings galore, multilayered vocal harmonies throughout, horns, oboes, and accordions here and there, and even the appearance of a calliope on one track.
I’ve never been much of a Queen fan. There were a few songs that I like, but I always thought they sounded, well, goofy. fun., on the other hand, are obviously big Queen fans, and while modern recording technology (and basic good taste) has allowed them to improve on Queen’s cheesier sounds, it still sounds, to some extent, like Queen to me. It sounds cute. I don’t like cute. I don’t know, maybe I need to lighten up. The sounds of ELO and Jellyfish are among the blended ingredients too, but on “Walking the Dog,” fun. relies on the more current influence of Vampire Weekend. Then again, Vampire Weekend got it from Paul Simon, and he got it from musicians in South Africa, and they got it … (more…)
Casual observers of this series have probably wondered, more than once, why I’m bothering to track those rock-era singles that, like a dolphin rejected from Sea World, couldn’t quite jump through the brass ring. After all, who really cares about chart placements? And isn’t Number Two practically as good as Number One, particularly when everybody’s making so much money? But if there’s one decade that proves why this stuff is vitally important … to somebody, at least … it’s the ’90s.
To put it simply, the Billboard Hot 100 charts of that decade were messed up. (I put it somewhat less than simply in a long-winded column last year.) The pop radio format split in two, resulting in charts that rarely reflected anybody’s actual listening experience. Major labels stopped manufacturing singles for many artists (mostly white ones) in an effort to sell more albums, which resulted in huge radio hits that never qualified for the Hot 100. The advent of precise technology for measuring retail sales and radio airplay resulted in singles topping the charts and staying … and staying … and staying. And as I discussed last week, superstars like Michael Jackson, Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston and Boyz II Men were so desperate to top the charts, and keep up with the competition, that they conspired with their labels to withhold the retail releases of their new singles until the songs peaked at radio, then flooded the marketplace with discounted product to ensure #1 chart debuts.
As a result of these and other, more random developments, the #2 singles of the ’90s were a fascinating bunch. There were huge hits that were simply blocked by huger ones, and great songs that stalled behind ones whose popularity now leaves us scratching our heads. There were oldies that re-emerged after decades, and the two longest-running chart hits of all time (for the moment). So away we go – and, as always, at the end of the column I’ll list some additional singles that were stranded at third base so we can argue which ones most deserved to score.
11. (tie) “Right Here, Right Now,”Jesus Jones; “P.A.S.S.I.O.N.,” Rhythm Syndicate; “Every Heartbeat,” Amy Grant; “It Ain’t Over Til It’s Over,” Lenny Kravitz; and “Fading Like a Flower (Every Time You Leave),”Roxette. What do these wildly disparate singles have in common? They all were blocked from the top spot during the summer of ’91 by the same song, Bryan Adams’ treacly Robin Hood anthem “(Everything I Do) I Do It for You.” (It was the first of three Adams soundtrack singles – all of them god-awful, in my opinion – to top the charts during the ’90s.) Adams spent seven weeks at #1 while holding off five different competitors – the highest number of second-place finishers thwarted by the same single since Percy Faith’s “Theme from A Summer Place” was #1 in 1960. The only one of the five to earn a second week at #2 was – surprise – “P.A.S.S.I.O.N.” In honor of that fact – and because its video is the only one of the five to feature fire (fire! fire!), scantily clad dancers and an atrocious white-boy rap — I’m happy to showcase it here. (more…)
Last week, I was trying to figure out the awkwardly titled decade called “The 2000s.” Yes, there’s been an A.D.D. quality to the last 10 years, but it could also be argued that there’s also a postmodern current flowing underneath all those mini-trends that came and went so fast they didn’t say goodbye. If I may be so bold as to throw another musical novelty borne out of the proliferation of cheap multitrack audio software into this decade, it would be the mashup. I think the first time I heard a kind of mashup was with the release of the Small Soldiers soundtrack. Just a few years later, people wouldn’t need recording studios to do what the DJs where able to do on that soundtrack — and I’m thinking specifically of the “Love Is a Battlefield” Kay Gee remix with Queen Latifah and Pat Benatar. Nowadays, it’s clear that ProTools can do wonders, and the more people with time and interest on their hands delve into what new musical forms they can weave into familiar songs, the more the original songs take on new and interesting twists when mashed up together. Having tried to do my own version of a mashup called “the smashup” — where I smashed covers of certain songs together — I know the time and dedication it takes to put these mixes together. So, here we go with a mix from some very creative individuals who clearly have talented ears and great skills with a multitrack recorder. (more…)
In 1984, famed disco producer Giorgio Moroder got it into his head that Fritz Lang’s silent 1927 masterpiece Metropolis needed to be restored with colored tint, a new edit, and heck, a new soundtrack filled with the hottest pop and rock artists of the day. And who else to produce that soundtrack than, say, Giorgio Moroder?
With a line-up including Pat Benatar, Jon Anderson, Adam Ant, Bonnie Tyler, Billy Squier and, er, Loverboy, all produced by Moroder, the Metropolis soundtrack could have been a train wreck for the ages. Strangely enough though, it’s a pretty compelling listen, as Moroder pushes these artists into new places, while they return the favor for the sequencer-obsessed Italian. The best-known and probably best song on the set was Queen frontman Freddie Mercury’s “Love Kills,” (download) which was released as a single and video to promote the reissued movie. Continuing the electronic experimentation Queen dabbled with on The Works, released that same year, “Love Kills” would have sat nicely on that album right next to “Radio Ga Ga.” (more…)
I became a Queen fan the winter before my 14th birthday; a friend let me borrow his well-worn Greatest Hits cassette, and by the time I got to song #2 — “Bohemian Rhapsody” — my life had been changed. Obsessive music freak that I was, even at age 13, I promptly set about obtaining all the Queen material I could find — a task made slightly easier by the recent “20 Years of Queen” reissues by their new American record label, Hollywood Records. The pity, though, was that it was February of 1991, and within 9 months, Freddie Mercury would be dead. The band I suddenly wanted to follow forever was silenced.
Musical sound doesn’t frighten me anymore. It did once, when I was young. The sudden, jarring strangeness of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” once freaked me out to no end, a veritable boon to all who wanted to tease a chubby, overly sensitive child. Whenever she felt like being evil, my sister would turn to me and shout, “Mamma mia, mamma mia, let me go!” which would send me running out of the room in tears.
Can you will yourself into liking a CD or is it merely that the recording is a ‘grower’? The term itself is suspect; it’s almost a prettified way of saying “I listened to it until I liked it.” However, there’s no other way I can honestly define my experience with the latest CD by The Shazam, Meteor. On first listen it wasn’t that I disliked it so much as it did not grab me in the slightest, yet there must have been something swirling around in there because I kept coming back to it. I can now say that it is on regular rotation on 
Casual observers of 
In 1984, famed disco producer Giorgio Moroder got it into his head that Fritz Lang’s silent 1927 masterpiece Metropolis needed to be restored with colored tint, a new edit, and heck, a new soundtrack filled with the hottest pop and rock artists of the day. And who else to produce that soundtrack than, say, Giorgio Moroder?