Posts Tagged ‘Shooting Star’

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

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For most series-type items — episodes of a TV show, issues of a magazine, etc. — 100 is a great milestone that’s celebrated vigorously, as it should be. Doing something 100 times in this era of short attention spans is kind of cool. But I think it’s only appropriate that in a series of posts about songs from the ’80s, number 80 is my milestone.

That’s 20 months of songs, week after week, and with an average of 20 songs a post, a total of roughly 1,600 individual songs. And we’ve still got most of S, all of T, a decent-sized W, and the Bottom Feeders record for most songs by a single artist still to come. So tonight I think I might grab a 40 of Old E and celebrate by listening to Scott Baio’s debut album. There’s just no better way.

Here are some more songs by artists whose names start with an S, as we take a look at songs the Billboard Top 40 shunned during the Reagan era.

Michelle Shocked
“Anchorage” — 1988, #66 (download)

Michelle Shocked certainly isn’t my cup of tea, but even so, this ain’t a bad song. It was off her second album, Short Sharp Shocked, which took a little heat for the cover art: the photo of the singer being detained by police was real, but replace her with a man and you’ve virtually got the exact same cover as Chaos UK’s similarly titled Short Sharp Shock, which came out four years earlier.

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The Friday Mixtape: 7/31/09

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We, at the site, really do strive to bring the coolest stuff possible to the readers and I think you’d agree our commitment pays off. But sometimes things float through our transom that don’t make it to the site for one reason or another. Such was the case when your own, your very own Dirk McQuickly Jason Hare e-mailed some links to the staff. A friend of his transferred old cassettes recorded from radio broadcasts in the ’80s, complete with commercials, DJ banter and other ephemera, to MP3. Nerdlet that I am, I downloaded as many as I could and reveled in a little regressive therapy at maximum volume.

Then I recalled, “Wait a minute. I’m a notorious packrat! I might have a few tapes of my own!” I did, in fact. Recordings of the fabled WPLJ from 1980s New York actually existed in a tape box that had an inch of dust congealed atop it. I thought this would be a very cool addition to our little Internet menagerie, and it would have been – were it not for the fact I only bought the cheapest, crappy blanks back then.

Yes, friends, the tapes had stretched, warped, some even seized up into circular spools of utter uselessness, but all were rendered ruined by time. But that doesn’t stop a man on a mission, now does it? I decided to build the playlist back from the ground up, based on the information on the J-card. Also, this one particular tape was playable but it sounded horrible, warbly, drifting in azimuth alignment so that sound meandered from fuzzy and muddy to irritatingly sharp. (more…)

Jesus of Cool: Rock Wars 1980 – Shooting Star vs. Touch

Shooting Star AlbumI would hope that every music geek had a friend growing up like my friend John – a guy who was just as passionate about music as you were and wanted to talk about it all the time, and who absolutely, positively hated every artist you liked. John and I could talk for hours about one band after another, and most of the conversations would go like this:

“I was listening to G—— while I was doing my homework…”
“Oh, man — why? They suck!”
“No, they don’t. H——- sucks.”
“No they don’t — they’re awesome. Anyway, what’s with the keyboard part in that G—— song? That’s not a rock’n'roll song — that’s Dan Fogelberg.”
“Oh, sure. You and your 20-minute guitar solos. I don’t think any guitar solo should last longer than 30 seconds.”
“That’s because you’re a pussy.”

Touch AlbumIn other words, it was like your basic Popdose post — except WE WERE 14! (Here at Popdose, we don’t apologize for arrested development…we advocate it.) Anyway, John had an advantage over me when it came to discovering artists he could claim as his own: Every summer he would go visit his extended family in Puerto Rico, where the radio stations seemed to revel in turning fringe-dwelling AOR acts into local chart-toppers. By the time we finished high school the list would grow to include Duke Jupiter, Saga, Glass Moon, the Monroes — and on and on. (Heck, Glass Moon even got a 7-Up commercial there!)

John would bring these albums home from San Juan and I’d inevitably say, “Who the fuck is that, and why does the bass player have that Village People moustache?” But no matter how crappy (I thought) the music was, John would act like he had some cosmic understanding that I couldn’t share because I didn’t give two shits about “What Do All the People Know” or “I’ll Drink to You.” And he’d say, “Yeah, well, they’re better than (insert whatever long-ago-discredited-but-since-resurrected mainstream act I was listening to at the time here).” Usually it was “Hall and Oates”; I was a big fan, and John would say the words “Hall and Oates” the way Bill O’Reilly says the words “liberal Democrat.” (more…)