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.
Friday night, Julie took me aside to tell me the results of Jacob’s latest throat culture. Each time he goes to an appointment with his CF doctor they shove a swab down his throat and test him for harmful bacteria. One bacteria they look for is Pseudomonas aeruginosa, a particularly menacing bug for people with cystic fibrosis that can create havoc on a patient’s lungs. To combat it the antibiotic tobramycin, or TOBI, is added to the daily regiment of inhaled medicines a CF patient must undergo each morning and night. This latest test revealed that Jacob is culturing Pseudomonas aeruginosa and will be starting a daily regiment of TOBI. Although he only showed a small amount of the bacteria, the news is still unsettling, another reminder of how helpless we sometimes feel in combating CF.
Soon after Julie gave me the news, the elephant returned. The elephant is this pressure I feel on my chest that takes my breath away. The elephant is always accompanied with his friend, the snake, who winds its way through my stomach and causes unrest. Joining them this time, for a limited engagement, was the sloth, weighing down on my back, making slouching on the couch in front of the television or curling up in a ball the only things I wanted to do. (more…)
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.
Why, then, choose “Above the Storm”? Indulge me, for a moment:
A week from tomorrow, I will have been a parent for ten years. That milestone and a recent event in my extended family got me thinking about perfectionism and parenthood, and how the twain never, ever meet. Oh, sure, I’ve had my moments. Like the time when Dylan was small and suffering from an ear infection, when I rocked him to sleep and, with that sleep, provided him some modicum of relief. I also felt pretty good recently, when he proudly showed off his new copy of the Guinness Book of World Records by showing me the entry for the woman with the world’s biggest breasts. He did this in front of his aftercare attendant, who proceeded to give him no small amount of grief before I took her aside and explained to her that the only thing funnier to a nine-year-old than boobs are farts, and if the Guinness Book of World Records could have passed gas, that’s what he would have shown me.
Truth of the matter is, I’ve screwed up, many times. All parents do. I’m going to do it again, probably as soon as I leave my office, and if not then, certainly in the next 24 hours. I’ve yelled when I should have been calm; chastised when I should have instructed; turned down an activity when I should have participated; let him down in several small ways that only occur to a parent after the fact. (more…)
We continue our DbPB salute to Jim Peterik with the most un-Survivor-like of Survivor songs. Gather ’round the campfire, kiddies, as Creepy Camp Counselor Rob tells the tale of “You Know Who You Are.”
Once upon a time, back in 1988, Survivor put out one of their best records—an album called Too Hot to Sleep. It was a cornucopia—nay, a veritable harvest—of melodic hard rock goodness, at a time when melodic hard rock was, as you kids say, tha shizznit. Frankie Sullivan, the band’s resident hotshot guitar player, grew his blond locks out to lengths only the bassist in Cinderella could match, donned his finest leather outerwear, plugged into a couple Marshall stacks, and showed the hairspray-and-spandex crowd he could fingertap and whammy bar and WEE-diddle-diddle with the best of ‘em. Half the songs on the record are among the best singer Jimi Jamison ever lent his voice to, and he grew out his hair and donned the leather for the occasion also. Jim Peterik was there, too, co-writing everything on the record, but looking rather uncomfortable on the album sleeve; he’s the only one not wearing leather.
Sounds great, huh, kiddies? A sure-fire hit—the guys who brought you “I Can’t Hold Back” and “Is This Love,” not to mention “Eye of the Freakin’ Tiger” turn up their amps and take on the Bon Jovi wannabes, by going undercover as, well, Bon Jovi wannabes. But it didn’t work. For during this period, bands like Motley Crue and Poison stalked the earth, raping arenas and pillaging groupies, and they brought along a ton of lesser bands like Pretty Boy Floyd, Britny Fox, and Bang Tango to mop up what they left behind. Listeners ignored Too Hot to Sleep in droves. (more…)
The next few DbPB installments will feature the work of a man who, to these ears, has contributed as much as if not more than any other artist to the power ballad arts and the melodic rock genre in general—Jim Peterik. Many know him as the voice and driving force (no pun intended. Okay, maybe I intended it) behind “Vehicle,” the great 1970 single by Ides of March. Many more know him as the bespectacled keyboard player and chief songwriter (along with Frankie Sullivan ) in Survivor. Yeah, that guy. “Eye of the Tiger.” “I Can’t Hold Back.” “High on You.”“The Search Is Over.”
Ah, “The Search Is Over.” How many makeout sessions/couple skates/lonely nights of the soul in ‘84-’85 had that one as their soundtrack? Survivor contributed many other fine, powerful ballads—“Man Against the World,” “Everlasting,” “Ever Since the World Began” (read about my personal relationship with that song here)—but none had all the weapons that made “Search” such a killer—the developing tension, the underlying power chords, the dramatic chorus and bridge, plea for redemption, the key change at the end. The voice.
The voice is so important. Peterik co-wrote a Survivor track called “It’s the Singer Not the Song”—a sentiment I do not share—in part to focus attention on the band’s new singer at that time, Jimi Jamison. While Survivor’s first vocalist, Dave Bickler, possessed a monster of an instrument—akin to a Paul Rodgers or a Steve Marriott—Jamison’s baritone was tailor-made for the commercial rock for which Survivor was best known in the mid-’80s. He had strength to spare and could tackle a rough-hewn rock song, but was also versatile enough to lighten up when the music slowed down. The Peterik/Sullivan ballads on Vital Signs, When Seconds Count, and Too Hot to Sleep were the perfect canvases on which Jamison could apply all the colors of his voice. (more…)
When last we left Michael Schenker, he was totally shredding through the last 40 seconds of UFO’s majestic power ballad, “Try Me.” Mikey hung around the band for another year or so before leaving in 1978 to rejoin brother Rudy in the Scorpions. That, too, lasted a year or so before he left again, this time to form his own band, the imaginatively named Michael Schenker Group, the moniker under which he would rape, pillage, and drink his way through arena tours here and abroad for a number of years. Three decent studio records and a very cool live album brought Schenker some middling chart success in the very early 80s, but nothing could touch the power and finesse of the peak UFO material.
By the end of the decade, Schenker’s desire for chart success could be measured in the length of the hair extensions he wore, apparently to keep up with new vocalist Robin McAuley, whose semi-artificial mane was prominently featured on the cover of the first album released under the name McAuley Schenker Group, 1987’s Perfect Timing. McAuley had been in a band called Grand Prix, as well as the evil Frank Farian-produced hydra known as the Far Corporation (who had the stones to cover “Stairway to Heaven”—poorly—as their first single). How he hooked up with Schenker is a closely kept secret (probably involving an international banking conspiracy and at least one case of Johnny Walker Black), but those who appreciate the power ballad arts remain thankful.
The band’s 1989 follow-up record, Save Yourself, yielded an actual quasi-hit single (#69 Hot 100, #5 Mainstream Rock) in “Anytime,” a plea for reconciliation, understanding, and maybe even graphic bondage, wrapped in a warm blanket of melodic rock production. (more…)
If you’ve ever ventured into that thicket of sweetness and stress known as Planning A Wedding, you’ve probably at least considered buying one (or five) of those awful compilations of “wedding music.” They come in all sorts of flavors – classical, country, Contemporary Christian, pop standards, classic R&B – and they’ve got icky titles like A Day to Remember, or Songs That Say “I Love You.” They tend to feature a lot of the same songs, like “Always and Forever,” and “Three Times a Lady,” and “Wonderful Tonight,” and Pachelbel’s Canon, and “The Way You Look Tonight,” and that horrible Boyz II Men song “On Bended Knee.” And, just like the Book of Common Prayer, they’re all diabolically designed to make your nuptials sound just like everybody else’s.
My wife Gwen and I wed 15 years ago today, and to celebrate that occasion – along with the onset of the June wedding season – I thought I’d give Popdose’s loyal readers an anniversary present: a mixtape of wedding songs and stories from some of our columnists, and an opportunity to share your own remembrances and ideas in the comments. These songs aren’t your garden-variety bridal standards; in fact, a few of them are downright bizarre. But even if you don’t find them suitable for your own purposes the next time you get hitched, hopefully they’ll inspire you and your betrothed to follow your own muse, and not some music conglomerate’s. Click here for a compressed file of all the tracks featured here, and read on! (more…)
You never know when your college friends may become useful professional contacts. One night 17 years ago, Lev Skwatzenschitz and I found ourselves stumbling down College Avenue at Rutgers, trading verses of “I’m a Little Bumblebee” and praying aloud for the grease truck with the good cheeseburgers to still be open at 3:00 in the morning. By 3:05, we were seated on the sidewalk, empty-handed, discussing our impending graduation and our dreams of life thereafter. Lev actually told me, “I’m gonna make my dreams come true, Smitty. I’ll be a star, and I’m going to take you along with me!”
Lev works in sanitation now, but his uncle, Donnie Skwatzenschitz, is some sort of representative for one or another music industry entity (he’s held a lot of jobs over the years). He hobnobs with the rich and famous and keeps trying to get Lev into “the family business.” As part of that effort, Uncle Donnie sends Lev copies of his correspondence with musicians, to inspire him, I suppose. Recently, Lev gave me a whole box of these things, with instructions to “do whatever you want with them.” Every couple weeks, I’ll share one of Uncle Donnie’s missives, in the hope that we may all be just slightly more inspired than Lev. —RS
TO: David Bowie
FROM: Don Skwatzenschitz
RE: Career advice
David, Mitzi and I are just back from a week in Vale, and I gotta tell you, I feel energized. Nothing like a couple days on the slopes to clear the mind. You should come out with us sometime. Bring your wife, Yvonne (or whatever) and see for yourself. Bundle up, though—thin white dukes can turn blue very easily out there. Ha!
I was thinking of you, though, while I was on the K-3. David, as you know, the music business sucks. Record companies suck. We missed out on so much by not getting the Feds to tax downloading. Fellas like you, who’ve been around the block a while but who might not necessarily be technologically savvy or business-smart, can get lost in the shuffle. I don’t want you and Yvonne to wind up selling off your possessions for beer money, you know? So I’m going to give you some advice: (more…)
an appointment with his CF doctor they shove a swab down his throat and test him for harmful bacteria. One bacteria they look for is 
This is the final entry in our DbPB salute to Jim Peterik, and it is, I admit, an odd choice for a conclusion. 
We continue our DbPB salute to 
The next few DbPB installments will feature the work of a man who, to these ears, has contributed as much as if not more than any other artist to the power ballad arts and the melodic rock genre in general—
When 
David, Mitzi and I are just back from a week in Vale, and I gotta tell you, I feel energized. Nothing like a couple days on the slopes to clear the mind. You should come out with us sometime. Bring your wife, Yvonne (or whatever) and see for yourself. Bundle up, though—thin white dukes can turn blue very easily out there. Ha!