Like, gag me with a spoonful of Mr. T cereal, my tubular
valley Smurf! I’ve totally posted, like, 100 posts here on Psychobabble since
my 1000th post when I ran down my personal favorite 100 songs of the
seventies. That means it’s, like, time to do the same for my 100 faves of the
eighties! It’s gonna be non-stop Leon Neon references, Pee Wee Herman quotes,
and close ups of Madonna’s navel as I bag your face through a massive mass of
mint tunes! Where’s the beef? Probably somewhere in my 1,100th post, Poindexter!
So take a chill pill and bang your head to Psychobabble’s
100 Favorite Songs of the 1980s! Totally!
100. “Nasty” by The Damned
“Oh, you’ve got a video?” Only a total nerd would have
answered this question in the negative in the eighties. There was nothing more
awesome than going to the video store to rent some shitty movie from the horror
section, but if you were English, that awesomeness hit a serious snag when
professional prig Mary Whitehouse spearheaded the prosecution of 39 “video
nasties,” including Flesh for
Frankenstein, Driller Killer, and
Cannibal Holocaust. As always, it was
Rat Scabies, Dave Vanian, and the aptly named Captain Sensible who called for a
little rationality amidst the witchhunt. They did so with three minutes of
high-speed punk professing their romance with video nasties. That they recorded
the track specifically for one of the best episodes of “The Young Ones” makes
“Nasty” all the awesomer.
99. “Hungry for You (J’aurais Toujours Faim de
Toi)” by The Police
One of the neat surprises of Ghosts in the Machine is how proficient Sting is with a horn in his
mouth. Throughout the record, he fattens out the core Police sound with
overdubbed saxophone arrangements. The chart on “Hungry for You (J’aurais
Toujours Faim de Toi)” is particularly simple, but those two note blasts say
more than a million over-bloated eighties saxophone solos. The songs
message—mostly delivered in French—is equally fat-free: “No matter what I do,
I’m still hungry for you.” That there is real lust.
98. “Automatic” by Prince and the Revolution
“Automatic” pretends to be a message of love, but I have a
feeling it has something more akin to “Hungry for You” on its dirty mind. Like
that Police song, “Automatic” derives its power from a mesmerizing beat, but it
also builds a tangible world: the seventh circle of sex hell. Prince’s vision
is kind of disturbing because of the explicit threats (“I’m going 2 have 2
torture U now”) and the robotic quality of it all (“A-u-t-o-matic”). Sexy,
disturbing, futuristic, uncompromising. Prince in a nutshell.
But love isn’t always Sting telling you how much he wants
you in French or purple sex orgies. Often it doesn’t go as intended. How often?
All the time, according to Gordon Gano. A come on gets awkward and he pulls a
preemptive “I never wanted you anyway” as Brian Ritchie freaks out on his
acoustic bass. Gives me the jitters.
96. “Suit of Lights” by Elvis Costello
Elvis has described “Suit of Lights” as “a song about work and respect” inspired
by his father, a singer with the Joe Loss Orchestra, and it is rich with
evocative, elegiac imagery. It also houses what may be Elvis’s nastiest joke
(“You request some song you hate, you sentimental fool / And it’s the force of
habit / If it moves then you fuck it, if it doesn’t than you stab it”). The
weary, ornery, insistent refrain is gut wrenching and unforgettable.
95. “Jason and the Argonauts” by XTC
Prog rock and new wave collide head on and go for a
cartwheel tumble on “Jason and the Argonauts”. Andy Partridge uses Greek
mythology (and probably a bit of Ray Harryhausen) as a metaphor for the ills of
capitalist society. The golden fleece of unquenchable materialism. The seven
veils of misogyny. Hypnotic and harrowing.
94. “So Far Away” by Dire Straits
Seven years had past since square British Blues combo Dire
Straits had a hit in the US. As we all know, that changed most assuredly when
they dropped the ultra-slick, DDD monster Brothers
in Arms in ’85. That year you couldn’t blow your nose without having “Money
for Nothing” blare out of your nostrils. However, the truly great single from
the band’s comeback triumph was its first. “So Far Away” barely sneaked into
the top twenty, but it’s as hooky and alluring as anything Dire Straights ever
did, their taut rhythm section pulsing beneath an utterly sublime guitar lick.
Mark Knopfler’s six-string impersonates a Hawaiian pedal steel and fools me
completely.
93. “Love at First Sight” by XTC
Colin Moulding often balanced Andy Partridge’s social
criticism with unabashed romanticism. Unlike the similarly smitten but very
smooth “Ten Feet Tall” on Drums &
Wires, “Love at First Sight” forks over its valentine in a sweaty, quivering
hand. Falling in love can be nerve wracking.
92. “Another Nail in My Heart” by Squeeze
A descending riff that makes it sound as though the stylus
is trapped erupts into glorious pop. Glen Tilbrook laments in his Paul
McCartney croon, but the roaming Farfisa lines make “Another Nail in My Heart”
sound like The Attractions angling for a hit. How Squeeze didn’t get one in
America is beyond me.
91. “Navigating Flood Regions” by Guided by
Voices
Million-dollar majesty on a four-dollar production budget.
Actually, compared to the four-track cassette machines Guided by Voices would
use later, Steve Wilbur’s 8-track garage may as well have been Gold Star
Studios. This is still clearly lo-fi recording, even as you can hear the band
fighting through it to get a booming sound on “Navigating Flood Regions”. This
is the kind of MGD-hoisting anthem that defines GBV.
90. “Catch” by The Cure
Guided by Voices made records that sounded like the band was
drunk (they were). The Cure’s “Catch” is a record that sounds like it’s drunk— not wasted, but wonderfully
buzzed, ambling down the street on a snowy night after a chance encounter with
the girl of its dreams, totally smitten even though the record may never see
that girl again. Plus Mellotron.
89. “Voices Carry” by Til Tuesday
Before breaking out as a major solo artist in the nineties,
Aimee Mann was playing bass, singing, and songwriting in Til Tuesday. Without
question, that band’s defining moment was also one of MTV’s defining moments:
Mann whipping off her hat in a crowded opera house to start shouting to the
extreme displeasure of her asshole boyfriend. We all remember the video, but
the song is super potent even without the memorable images. Joey Pesce’s creepy
synthesizers give the track its new wave edge. Mann’s impassioned improvs at
the end of it will twist your heart right out of your rib cage.
88. “That’s Entertainment” by The Jam
Paul Weller unplugs his Rickenbacker but not his righteous
indignation. He creates a grim portrait of life in a Council estate where one
can only fantasize about taking a break from exhaust fumes, construction noise,
and inane pap on the telly. Even a romantic snog must be snatched in the center
of extreme squalor and depression. Weller keeps strumming out the same four
chords over and over. His perfectly conceived ditty doesn’t need any more than
that.
87. “You Got Lucky” by Tom Petty & the
Heartbreakers
Tom Petty pulls out a nasty lyric worthy of Jagger, but
somehow it’s less devastating coming from a guy like him. “You Got Lucky” still
has plenty of bite. Mike Campbell’s spaghetti Western riffs tangle with Benmont
Tench’s synths, making this one of the most convincing arguments for the
Heartbreakers’ new-wave status.
86. “Once in a Lifetime” by Talking Heads
The eighties had barely begun when David Byrne defined the
decade’s suffocating air of conservative complacency. A family man realizes how
alienated he is from his beautiful wife, beautiful car, beautiful house, and
beautiful money. Byrne sweats hard to express the man’s anguish and confusion.
Jerry Harrison’s bubbling synth and Tina Weymouth’s rippling bass line are the waters
that will keep on flowing with or without him.
85. “(My Girl) Maryanne” by The Spongetones
A refreshing blast of Mersey Beat pop by way of a quartet of
North Carolinians with totally unacceptable mustaches and mullets. The
Spongetones started life as a Beatles cover band, which should be no shocker
after hearing this sweet and refreshing power popper about a lovably chatty
lass. Between you and me, I like it better than anything on Please Please Me.
84. “How Beautiful You Are” by The Cure
The Cure whips up a tornado of dancing piano, trembling
bass, and whirling synthesizer violins around Robert Smith. He’s the only guy
who could begin a song called “How Beautiful You Are” with the words “You want
to know why I hate you, well, I’ll try to explain.” Well, maybe Morrissey could
too.
83. “Add It Up” by The Violent Femmes
What an intro! Gordon Gano’s naked voice in choirboy croon.
Then he gets mad and the Femmes get violent, slamming into a punk-folk rush. The
rest of the track is a tour de force of jarring dynamics, simmering down so
Gano’s mouth can exercise, then exploding into suicidal psychosis when his girl
decides to “add it up” instead of relieving his tension. Teenage horniness has
never sounded so distressed or so real.
82. “Senses Working Overtime” by XTC
Sensory overload drives Andy Partridge to create a
mysterious and lovely piece of modern folk-pop. A spacious, breathing antidote
to the ills about which Partridge sings.
81. “Wolves, Lower” by R.E.M.
Peter Buck rolls his Rickenbacker all over the first cut on
R.E.M.’s first E.P. Michael Stipe imparts warnings in the background. They’ve
barely begun and R.E.M.’s special alchemy is already in full force
80. “It Ain’t What You Do It’s the Way That You
Do It” by Fun Boy Three and Bananarama
Fun Boy Three used percussion like most bands use guitars.
So much of this track’s melody comes
from its contagious clanging and banging. Bananarama’s cheerleading chants give
its bubbliness extra lift. This should have become a playground jump rope standard.
79. “Gardening at Night (Different Vocal Mix)”
by R.E.M.
R.E.M.’s Chronic Town
is one of the great E.P.’s, but it also makes a great mistake. One of its best
tracks contains one of Michael Stipe’s most indifferent vocals. This flaw was corrected
on the 1987 compilation Eponymous,
which included a version of “Gardening at Night” with a more committed Stipe
vocal. It’s the definitive version of a definitive piece of early R.E.M.
78. “When Doves Cry” by Prince and the
Revolution
Like the movie that featured it, “When Doves Cry” is kind of
wrong. The central metaphor makes no sense. The imagery is gross (“The sweat of
your body covers me”—ick). There’s no bass. Yet, it’s still a perfect record
because of Prince’s alien vocal and guitar magic.
77. “Call Me” by Blondie
Speaking of making no sense, what about the opening line,
“Color me your color, baby, color me your car”? What? Like “When Doves Cry”,
sense matters little on a record that sounds so amazing. A seamless fusion of
synthetic new wave production and pure punk attitude and drive, “Call Me” kicks
like few other Blondie tracks do.
76. “One Thing Leads to Another” by The Fixx
With a churning rhythm that grabs you by the collar and
pulls you down an elevator shaft, The Fixx’s “One Thing Leads to Another” is
one of the great MTV hits of the eighties—and the rare one that still sounds
totally fresh today. I still get lost in its undertow the instant that
lacerating guitar and mechanical beat lash out.
75. “Jools and Jim” by Pete Townshend
Pete Townshend shows he was listening to the punk movement
he inspired without lapsing into lyrical or musical pastiche. The beauty of his
song craft is still very evident when he takes callous journos to task for
running down the recently deceased Keith Moon. Furious, delicate, and highly
personal without being unapproachable, “Jools and Jim” distills everything
great about Pete Townshend’s songwriting. His vocal on the bridge is the most
beautiful singing of his career.
74. “1999” by Prince and the Revolution
“1999” was chopped down for radio and MTV, but on the LP
named for it, it’s a restless, relentless rumination on nuclear apocalypse
beginning with a demon’s creepy— and rather unconvincing— reassurance and
ending with a child’s creepier query, “Mommy, why does everybody have a bomb?”
And who but Prince (and Stevie Wonder) had the nerve to begin a major statement
with other singers? These singers are Dez Dickerson, Lisa Coleman, and Jill
Jones, all but Jones being members of Prince’s new group the Revolution. They
all party in the face of doom, and we lowly listeners can’t help but follow
them.
73. “Man Out of Time” by Elvis Costello and
the Attractions
The lengthy “Man Out of Time” is like an encyclopedia of
Elvis Costello’s best lines: “‘Cause the high heel he used to be has been ground
down”; “There’s a tuppeny hapenny millionaire looking for a fourpenny one”;
“He’s got a mind like a sewer and a heart like a fridge, he stands to be
insulted and he pays for the privilege”; “Love is always scarpering or cowering
or fawning, you drink yourself insensitive and you hate yourself in the
morning”. “Man Out of Time” would rate as a classic if only for its lyrics, but
the words are matched step-for-step by the sweeping, majestic melody and
climactic chorus. And the primal scream fits bookending the track (actually
snatched from an insane outtake of this song) are pretty wicked, too.
72. “Harborcoat” by R.E.M.
R.E.M. kick off their sophomore album with a
restless, joyous swirl of guitars and overlapping vocals. “Harborcoat” proves
that pop doesn’t need drum machines and synths to magnetize asses to the dance
floor—even in the eighties.
71. “Ashes to Ashes” by David Bowie
Eleven years later, Major Tom is still floating in space,
but his euphoria seems to have settled into a drugged lethargy. Is there a
better metaphor for the transition from sixties idealism to eighties complacency?
Bowie’s warped music captures the dispirited lyric and contemporary temper
perfectly until he tries to rise out of his funky funk on the dramatic bridge
(listen closely to the mocking, spoken vocal counterpoint beneath the main
vocal).
70. “Hey” by The Pixies
A looping Kim Deal bassline and a Gothic horror Black
Francis lyric makes for an unlikely Pixies favorite. This may be because
Francis drops some of his most direct lyrics (“If you go I will surely die!”)
in the middle of the weird imagery (“The whores like a choir…This is the sound
that the mother makes when the baby breaks!”). “Hey” is as mysterious, gloomy,
and impassioned as The Pixies got.
69. “Miss Gradenko” by The Police
Slight familiarity with his MOR solo career is enough to
understand how much Sting needed Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland. Their
stinging work sharpened The Police and toughened Sting. Their
abilities extended beyond matters of musicianship. They also wrote some of The
Police’s best songs. Copeland’s “Miss Gradenko” is a highlight of the
highlight-loaded Synchronicity; an
elated and concise pop treat that surely would have been a hit if it had been
pasted onto a single. But let’s not be too hard on Sting—his bouncy bass line
is one of the best things about “Miss Grandenko”.
68. “Pink Frost” by The Chills
New Zealand’s The Chills borrow liberally from sixties
psychedelia, yet this record could not have been made anytime other than the eighties.
Martin Phillipps’s extra-emphasized accent and the waves of synthy guitars set
“Pink Frost” aside from the music it inspired, but it remains as spine-tingling
and haunting as the best of Pink Floyd or The Velvet Underground.
67. “Love Will Tear Us Apart” by Joy
Division
There’s little joy in the Joy Division story, but their
music often transcended the tragedy in the same way the blues has been helping
people through rough times for a century. Dour yet danceable, “Love Will Tear
Us Apart” puts me in an oddly good mood and it’s guaranteed to get every pouty
mug in the room lurching on the floor every time it spins.
66. “Crazy” by R.E.M.
R.E.M. cut this cover for the b-side of “Driver 8”. Not only
do I think it bests its A-side—which is a great track—but it blows away the
original by fellow Athens, Georgia, combo Pylon. R.E.M. cuts the rhythm looser and
Stipe fills in more vocals… though I’d hesitate to say “lyrics”
65. “Don’t Let Go the Coat” by The Who
More polished and sedate than any Who record before it, Face Dances is not among the band’s
best-loved albums. However, Pete, John, and Roger deserve some credit for not
pretending Keith Moon’s death hadn’t changed the band. Face Dances was a more
adult-sounding Who record than any one before it, and though it is hardly
consistent, it contains one of Townshend’s loveliest odes to Meher Baba: “Don’t
Let Go the Coat”. It’s wonderful to hear him take the twelve-string
Rickenbacker out of mothballs.
64. “Where Is My Mind?” by The Pixies
One of rock’s unlikeliest sing-a-longs, “Where Is My Mind?”
will always stir choruses of “Whoo-ooh!” when it comes on the juke at your
local hipster bar. Black Francis’s bizarre underwater imagery fits a song deeper
and darker than the Yucatan Cenotes.
63. “Rev Up” by The Revillos
The synth may have ruled the decade, but old-fashioned
garage rock was not dead in the 1980s. One of the most electrifying garage
bands was former punk group The Rezillos. Their new-wave name change was
fitting, because no one revved up like The Revillos revved up on “Rev Up”. This
song makes me want to smash every light bulb in the room with my head.
62. “Academy Fight Song” by Mission to Burma
Fist-raising collegiate punk rock is in full effect on
Mission of Burma’s first single. “Academy Fight Song” rails against boarding
schools and makes me glad I never had to endure their piss-smelling halls.
61. “Face Dances Part Two” by Pete Townshend
This video with its weird robots was an early MTV staple,
but it hasn’t endured as “Rough Boys” or “Let My Love Open the Door Have”. I
think it’s Pete’s most infectious solo single, as delectable as a sack of donuts even with that herky-jerky 5/4 time signature.
60. “Wanna Hold You” by The Rolling Stones
Amidst all of the sleaze and violence of Undercover is an uplifting love song
that would have sounded utterly unconvincing had it come out of Mick’s mouth.
The elements of “Wanna Hold You” don’t sound as if they should add up: the pop
hooks, the discofied beat, the cheery lyrics, and Keith’s sandblasted voice.
But it’s a wonderful track, probably because the guy really was
head-over-Cuban-heels for wife-to-be Patti Hansen. The way the multi-tracked vocals
overlap on the refrain pumps bumblebees into my stomach.
59. “Come Dancing” by The Kinks
The Kinks have the extraordinary knack of making cheerful
records that make me want to cry. The best example is the calypso swing “Come
Dancing”. A happier sound is unimaginable, yet knowing that the song’s
inspiration is the death of Ray and Dave Davies’s older sister Rene puts a lump
in my throat even before the cheesy roller-rink organ kicks in. Dave’s power
chords on the bridge provide a moment of real Rock & Roll release and
remind us that these are the guys who made “You Really Got Me”.
58. “Los Angeles” by X
I have a bit of a grudge against L.A. It’s like an alien
planet made out of plastic and it stole my best friend away and refuses to give
him back to the East Coast. The main character of “Los Angeles” apparently has
a lot more hostility toward the town than I do. She’s also a gun-toting, racist
hick. X raise a sweat to convey her anger and confusion. It’s an ugly
portrait of life in a tough town, realer than any bullshit Guns ‘n’ Roses
pose.
57. “Reel Around the Fountain” by The Smiths
The Smiths’ union of troubled subject matter and beautiful
music made a lot of people uncomfortable, but it’s also one of the things that
make them so unique. Nevertheless, “Reel Around the Fountain” isn’t exactly the
tale of child molestation many assume it is. However, it does get into that
awkward transition from virginity to sexual awakening with the beauty and
delicacy of a flock of butterflies.
56. “A Day without Me” by U2
An underappreciated number from U2’s first album, “A Day
without Me” may be so appealing because it’s so atypical of the band. Neither a
strained anthem nor a hammering screed, the track is fresh, bouncy, and sweet.
Before writing this piece, I had no idea it was released as the first single
from Boy. If I’d known in 1980 what I
know now, I would have done my part in trying to make it the hit it should have
been.
55. “Taco, Buffalo, Birddog, and Jesus” by Guided
by Voices
I’m always shocked by the songs Guided by Voices decided to
hold back. They recorded the dreamy and moving “Taco, Buffalo, Birddog, and
Jesus” for the scrapped Learning to Hunt
album, and while lesser songs like “The Qualifying Remainder” and “Slopes of
Big Ugly” didn’t have to wait long for release on Self-Inflicted Aerial Nostalgia, this one had to wait eleven years.
It was ultimately buried on the sprawling outtakes box Suitcase. “Taco, Buffalo, Birddog, and Jesus” deserves to be dug up
and seated lovingly amongst GBV’s best-loved songs, and not just because it has
the greatest title in the history of song titles.
54. “I Wanna Destroy You” by The Soft Boys
This is where The Byrds and Sex Pistols collide,
annihilating each other and leaving a perfectly honed shiv of Soft Boys snarl
rock. Songs with lines as bile spewing as “When I have destroyed you, I’ll come
picking at your bones” should not be this bloody catchy.
53. “The Waiting” by Tom Petty & the
Heartbreakers
No punk fury here; just pure McGuinn-style jangling and
Petty-style sincerity. “The Waiting” is a love song true enough that it doesn’t
have to smooth out fairly unromantic lines like “Don’t let it kill you, baby,”
but it’s the longing, anticipation, and overflowing joy that leave the most
enduring mark.
52. “The Queen of Eyes” by The Soft Boys
Back to Robyn Hitchcock and the gang again, and this time
they even out-jangle Petty! Pop as scrumptious and refreshing as an ice cream
cone sprinkled with bits of classic Soft Boys weirdness.
51. “Strawberries Are Growing in My Garden (And
It’s Wintertime)” by The Dentists
The Dentists deliver a cool wave of neo-psychedelia. If the
title suggests The Beatles, the track itself is more reminiscent of moodier
groups like The Left Banke and The Zombies. The lazy guitar jangle (this list
is really in the jangling heart of the eighties here, folks!), the heavenly
harmonies, the way the track sort of slumps from one section to the next, the
cacophonous coda: magnificent.
50. “Destination Unknown” by Missing Persons
OK, let’s set aside our Rickenbackers for a moment here
(just a moment, though). It’s time to patch in the synths for a doomy rumble and
Dale Bozzio’s robotic hiccupping. Warren Cuccurullo’s wiry guitar riff is
awesome too.
49. “Hand in Glove” by The Smiths
It’s amusing how seriously some people take Morrissey (well, not when he’s saying stupid, racist shit. That should be taken seriously). Those fans are apparently missing one of the best
things about his songs: they’re often really, really funny. The Smiths did not
wait to reveal this side. Their very first single begins with “Hand in glove,
the sun shines out of our behinds.” That’s hilarious. Plus, the jangling is
back.
48. “Gun Fury” by The Damned
The Damned, however, are a band that should be taken more
seriously than they are. Yes, they have a lot of funny songs too, and their
stage antics always signaled a group that didn’t take itself very seriously,
but they could be insightful and complex as well. A prime example is “Gun
Fury”, a righteous jab at the Police Support Unit’s abuse of power. Dave Vanian
never cracks a smile through the unflinching lyric and the band never duffs the
tricky 5/4 time signature. What a great band. What a great song.
47. “I’ve Been Tired” by The Pixies
Is this the worst first date ever? She talks about the
horrors of poverty. He talks about his fear of losing his “penis to a whore
with disease.” Cut him some slack. He’s been tired. Early Pixies at their most
demented, and the peppy tune makes “I’ve Been Tired” all the scarier.
46. “Our House” by Madness
If you need a touch of comfort after that last track, well
then pop over our house. We’ll make you a spot of tea. Ignore all the
shouting…that’s just how our family is. “Our House” is the funniest, warmest,
most honest, most hummable slice of modest British life since the heyday of Ray
Davies.
45. “Clubland” by Elvis Costello and the Attractions
Elvis aims his poison-pen at the elitism of club-culture and
the vacuous dopes who’ve come to “shoot the pony” and “do the jerk” (why do I
think he isn’t referring to a couple of groovy sixties dance fads here?). He
sets his nasty poetry to a snappy, slinky tango rhythm. Is this the only Rock
& Roll song ever written in the tango style? Is there a single musical
resource Elvis Costello has not used?
44. “Bike Ride to the Moon” by Dukes of
Stratosphear
Amidst the mid-eighties fad for antiseptic production, drum
machines, and synthesizers, XTC pulled a major prank on the pop world by
pretending to be an unearthed sixties psychedelic band called Dukes of
Stratosphear. As the Dukes they drew on influences from The Beatles to Traffic
to The Beach Boys to Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd. That latter influence is all
over their most delightfully kaleidoscopic track, “Bike Ride to the Moon”. It’s
as wonderful as anything to which it pays tribute.
43. “Under the Milky Way” by The Church
The Church also made fine use of sixties influences, though
they did not pretend to make records any time other than the eighties. Their
moody defining song “Under the Milky Way” is one of the best records of the decade.
Had it been made in the sixties, it would have been one of the best of that
decade too.
42. “Head over Heels” by Tears for Fears
Is this the greatest love song of the eighties? The
construction is perfect: a dramatic opening, the brilliantly arranged call and
response of Roland Orzabal’s throaty gale and Curt Smith’s teary falsetto, a
powerful chorus, and a fantastically phased, elliptical finale. The lyric is
equally brilliant. The first verse captures the thrill and ache of potential
new love as well as any other before drifting into dark premonitions on the
second: the singer goes from imagining himself married to the object of his obsession,
to chastising her being unambitious, to imagining himself with a gun in his
hand. Is it pointed at himself? At her? At a bank teller? Perhaps “Head Over
Heels” belongs in the same file as “Every Breath You Take” as one of the most
misunderstood love songs of the 1980s. The only difference is I still enjoy
listening to “Head Over Heels”.
41. “Under Pressure” by Queen and David
Bowie
Two grand stars of the seventies unite for an ideal eighties
anthem. Queen and Queen Bitch play their roles masterfully: Freddie Mercury’s edge-of-the-stage
histrionics bounce off of Bowie’s cool croon magnificently. The vocalists
dominate, but there are so many other great things happening in this track,
such as John Deacon’s tick-tocking bassline and the shifty song structure. But
it is on the bridge where Freddie wonders why we can’t give love, give love
that “Under Pressure” achieves transcendence.
40. “Madonna of the Wasps” by Robyn
Hitchcock & the Egyptians
After The Soft Boys, Robyn Hitchcock put together a new band,
but his mastery of neo-psychedelia and bizarre lyricism was still very much
intact. The borderline Gothic “Madonna of the Wasps” makes that insidiously
clear and it is one of his most mature and evocative surrealist pieces.
39. “Perfect Circle” by R.E.M.
There is also a Gothic tinge to the centerpiece of R.E.M.’s
first album. “Perfect Circle” sounds like it was recorded in the great room of
a vast stone castle. Everything echoing and resonating. At the same time, it as
intimate as the best R.E.M. ballads. Haunting stuff.
38. “Grimly Fiendish (Bad Trip Mix)” by The
Damned
With their 1985 album, Phantasmagoria,
The Damned fully succumbed to Dave Vanian’s fascination with the Goth movement
he helped create and bad eighties production. The one track that emerges totally
unscathed is both the best on the record and the best of The Damned’s psych
tributes. The clear influence here is The Who circa ‘67. The monster-mash
lyric, inspired by a British comic-book villain, could have been penned by John
Entwistle as his follow up to “Boris the Spider”, and the olde Edwardian vibe
recalls “Silas Stingy”. The “Bad lad, bad boy” chorus is lifted straight out of
Townshend’s “Our Love Was”. The definitive version is the “Bad Trip Mix” from
the extended 12” single, which features a fabulous Peter Lorre impression.
37. “How Soon Is Now?” by The Smiths
The genesis of “How Soon Is Now?” is kind of funny. It is
Johnny Marr’s idea of how Creedence Clearwater Revival sounded before he’d
heard much of their music. In a way, it is similar to “Born on the Bayou”, with
its murky production, lethargic rhythm, and heavily tremeloed guitars. However,
The Smiths achieve something darker and grander on the song Seymour Stein
believed to be the eighties' own “Stairway to Heaven”. Morrissey’s dourness
often comes off as parody, but “I am human and I need to be loved, just like
everybody else does” is such a nakedly primal plea that it’s understandable why
so many people take this song dead seriously.
36. “Arabian Knights” by Siouxsie and the
Banshees
Siouxsie and the Banshees fashion the mysterioso psychedelia
that would become an integral component of their sound for the rest of their
career. Budgie’s rolling thunder is as hooky as Siouxsie’s moans and John
McGeoch’s trembling guitar, but it’s his switch to a straight drive on the
final chorus that makes “Arabian Knights” such a spine-tingling tale.
35. “Spirits in the Material World” by The
Police
The Police create their own brand of poppy Gothic reggae,
and as is the case with the previous song, a shift to a straight 4/4 beat
smacks the track awake. My favorite part of the song may be Sting’s loping bass
line.
34. “Bigmouth Strikes Again” by The Smiths
Anyone who doesn’t understand how hilarious The Smiths are
needs to be sat down and played “Bigmouth Strikes Again”. There isn’t a thing
about this song that isn’t uproarious: Morrissey apologizing to his “sweetness”
for threatening to “smash every tooth in your head” or confessing he knows how
a walkman-toting Joan of Ark feels or dueting with a bigmouthed alter-ego that
sounds suspiciously like a small-mouthed Smurf. Johnny Marr’s rapid acoustic
strumming is utter Rock & Roll excitement.
33. “Unsatisfied” by The Replacements
The flip side of Mick Jagger’s loquacious complaint of
dissatisfaction, “Unsatisfied” finds Paul Westerberg barely able to repeat more
than “Look me in the eye and tell me I’m satisfied… I’m so unsatisfied”. Yet
his ravaged, wrecked, raging delivery says everything Mick did. Music to claw
your own eyes out to.
32. “Electric Avenue” by Eddie Grant
Eddie Grant chants of social unrest on Brixton’s ethnically
diverse market street to a beat born for dancing. The chorus is as irresistible
as Grant’s anger is unmissable through the mechanistic beat.
31. “Cities in Dust” by Siouxsie and the
Banshees
Never before had Siouxsie and the Banshees delivered
anything as straight-up hooky, dancey, and delicious as “Cities in Dust”. The
chorus is the stuff of which spontaneous dance parties are made.
30. “Transfiguration” by Screaming Trees
Although they’d become minor grunge poster boys in the
nineties, Screaming Trees’ roots were in sixties garage rock and psychedelia.
The greatest example of this is “Transfiguration” which sounds like it should
be roaring over images of face-painted scenesters fruging madly in a Roger
Corman acid movie.
29. “Stranger on the Town” by The Damned
The Damned’s Strawberries
receives little love, but I don’t just think it’s their best album—I think it’s
the best goddamn album of the eighties. It’s like their Goth clown concept of
the perfect sixties anthology with bits of psychedelia, garage rock, baroque
balladry, and protest. On the epic “Stranger on the Town”, they create a song
that sounds likes it should have been on the album The Munsters recorded for
Motown Records circa 1965. If that doesn’t sound good to you, I don’t think we
can be friends.
28. “Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God)”
by Kate Bush
“Running Up That Hill” apparently made the U.S. top-thirty
in 1985, but I never heard it at that time. When I finally did a couple of
decades later, I was at first struck by the dated synth sounds. By the time I
heard Kate Bush’s vocal overdubs weaving around each other like enchanted
strands of golden silk and coarse twine, any arrangement issues had evaporated.
This is a thrilling piece of music with some of the most dramatic drumming of
any track on this list.
27. “Take Me with U” by Prince and the
Revolution
Honestly, any single culled from Prince and the Revolution’s
masterpiece Purple Rain could justifiably
sit in the upper end of this list, but I’ve always had a soft spot for Prince’s
dalliances with Beatlesque pop. “Take Me With U” is not as galvanizing as
“Let’s Go Crazy” or as intense as “When Doves Cry”; it’s just a magnificently
executed pop single, and the way Prince’s voice mingles with Apollonia’s raises
the little hairs on the back of my neck.
26. “Eyes without a Face” by Billy Idol
Billy Idol doesn’t just borrow the title of George Franju’s
horror masterpiece Les Yeux sans Visage,
he nicks the film’s Gothic beauty. Billy Idol being Billy Idol, he is unable to
keep his silliness completely at bay (hence the mid song rap about taking a
“psychedelic trip” and reading “murder books” in Las Vegas), but “Eyes Without
a Face” is all the more endearing for it.
25. “Rock the Casbah” by The Clash
The song that made The Clash mainstream in the U.S. barely
hints at their punk roots. “Rock the Casbah” barely hints at anything before it. Its combination of
Latin jazz piano, disco bass and drums, Joe Strummer’s wrecked vocal, Mick
Jones’s guitar shocks, lyrics that parody the Islamic ban on Rock music, and a Casio
watch whistling “Dixie” are totally original and totally eighties.
24. “That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore” by The
Smiths
As we’ve already established, Morrissey was a master of
conveying teenage lovesickness for his own smirking amusement, and the hilarity
of his lyrics tended to be lost on the lovesick teens that were his primary
audience. But the joke in “That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore” really isn’t very
funny. This is a crushing song about cruel rejection that morphs from swooning
romanticism to absolute blackness without undergoing any major changes in
arrangement. It’s Morrissey’s voice that transforms. His shift from breeziness
in the song’s opening passages to the lump-throated despair of the repeated
refrain “I’ve seen this happen in other people’s lives and now it’s happening
in mine” is devastating.
23. “Jig of Life” by Kate Bush
The Hounds of Love
makes brilliant use of eighties production techniques, which is no easy feat.
However, Kate Bush drops all the synths and drum machines and icy sound effects
for “Jig of Life”, an incredible example of organic music making. Bush’s mum
was a traditional Irish dancer, and daughter keeps that tradition alive with
sawing fiddles and River Dance stomping. Brother John delivers the Brogue-thick
rap that climaxes the most muscular track on Kate Bush’s masterpiece.
22. “Harboring Exiles” by Guided by Voices
Like “Taco, Buffalo, Birddog, and Jesus”, “Harboring Exiles”
is astounding because it was left in the vaults for so long. This fellow Self-Inflected Aerial Nostalgia outtake
had to wait even longer for release, coming out in 2003 on the Hardcore UFOs box set. I will never
understand why this rubbery piece of power pop perfection wasn’t released in
1989 so it could be one of that year’s biggest and best hit singles.
21. “Town Called Malice” by The Jam
The Jam go full-Motown on the song for which they are
best-known in the states. Their Funk Brothers tribute captures that band’s
rhythmic magnetism superbly while Weller’s portrait of lower class unrest cuts
through the track’s polish. “Town Called Malice” may also make the most
powerful use of straight 4/4 handclapping on record.
20. “Spellbound” by Siouxsie and the
Banshees
Man, John McGeoch must have had a sore wrist after recording
“Spellbound”. This track contains some of the most visceral acoustic strumming
this side of a Pete Townshend session. But “Spellbound” is not just the
guitarist’s show. Everyone in the band is driving forward with maximum
velocity: Budgie beating like the hooves of a horde of Clydesdales on the
rampage, Siouxsie bellowing from the gut, Steve Severin pushing the whole thing
from the bottom with intense single-mindedness. People born without necks will
still figure out a way to bob their heads to “Spellbound”.
19. “Carnival of Sorts (Box Cars)” by R.E.M.
After a snatch of pseudo-carnival organ, Peter Buck rolls
out a lick that sounds like his Rickenbacker cracked its head and isn’t sure
which tent to enter. Finally, it stumbles into one, and R.E.M. kick in full
gale behind him. The carnival is in full swing with a relentless rhythm and
some of those exhilarating Stipe/Mills overlapping vocal acrobatics on the
chorus. It zooms off the fairground and up to nirvana when Bill Berry slams his
kit double time just before the marvelous track fades into oblivion.
18. “Whip It” by Devo
Devo celebrate stick-to-itiveness with a dollop of S&M.
Whips crack. Drums smack. Synths wallop basslines and slam sci-fi dissonance.
Mark Mothersbaugh and Gerald Casale trade self-help propaganda. If Seymour
Stein was right and “How Soon Is Now?” is the eighties’ own “Stairway to
Heaven”, then “Whip It” is its “Jumpin’ Jack Flash”.
17. “Lovely Money” by The Damned
In 1982, The Damned released a stand-alone single about the
gross absurdity of turning the Tower of London prison into a tourist
attraction. That’s hardly hit subject matter, and the single dutifully flopped,
but musically, this is The Damned at their most unabashedly catchy, poppy, and
scrumptious. The disco drum machine is a major eighties touch, but the Farfisa
and tunefulness come straight from the best sixties summer hits. Bonzo Dog Viv
Stansall plays the part of a poorly informed, racist, and rather disgruntled
Tower tour guide. Righteously angry, hilarious, harmonious, perfectly conceived
in every way, “Lovely Money” may be the eighties flop that most deserved to be
an eighties hit.
16. “Swimming Horses” by Siouxsie and the
Banshees
Alluring and magical, “Swimming Horses” is as artful as pop
music gets. Over a backing track that shimmers like the reflection of stars on
a wading pool, Siouxsie Sioux paints surrealistic images that barely mask the
song’s erotic topic. “He gives birth to swimming horses” is probably the
loveliest way one can say, “He spurts sperm out of his penis.”
15. “Love for Tender” by Elvis Costello and
the Attractions
If there’s one thing Elvis Costello and the Attractions love,
it’s ironic references to their favorite pop songs. “Love for Tender” offers
two for the price of one: Bruce Thomas copped the bass line from “You Can’t
Hurry Love” and Elvis swiped the title-refrain from “Love Me Tender” (not the
first time he used this particular play on words, as we shall see). Still, “Love
for Tender” is pure Elvis and the Attractions: fast, feisty, complex, succinct,
witty, and catchy as the best of The Supremes or Presley. Bruce’s bass drives
the performance, but Elvis’s avalanche of puns provides just as much fun. “Love
for Tender” is an homage to Motown soul, a genre of music designed primarily
for dancing, but can anyone dance fast enough to keep up with it? To do so,
they’d have to gobble as many pills as the Attractions probably did before
cutting this classic.
14. “William, It Was Really Nothing” by The
Smiths
Swirling and dizzying and cascading like sheets of rain
falling on “a humdrum town”, “William, It was Really Nothing” sums up the
undying appeal of The Smiths as gorgeously as any of the other great singles by
the greatest singles band of the eighties. Once again, Morrissey pisses all
over his sad boy image. How can anyone mope around to lyrics like “How can you
stay with a fat girl who’ll say, ‘Would you like to marry me? And if you like
you can buy the ring’… I don’t dream about anyone except myself”?
13. “I Will Dare” by The Replacements
The Replacements’ punk followers must have been baffled
after hearing the band’s debut single of 1984. Suddenly, Paul Westerberg and
his gang of drunks had gone from shambling hardcore to romantic mandolin-driven
pop. There are still remnants of the old ’Mats on the accompanying album, Let It Be (ain’t nothing romantic about
the screaming slop of “Gary’s Got a Boner”), but “I Will Dare” proudly displays
the incredible songwriting craft that had always been lurking beneath their
gravel-vocals and gritty guitars.
12. “King of Pain” by The Police
“Every Breath You Take” may have been the single that got
spun to death in 1983, but the most brilliant and unlikely track to get pulled
from Synchronicity for radio play was
“King of Pain”. It’s a sort of “Paint It Black” for the eighties, a Goth pop
expression of lightless self-pity. Sting illustrates his lost soul with an album of
surreal snap shots: a dead salmon frozen in a water fall (that’s his soul up there),
a spotty sun (that’s his soul too), a skeleton choking on bread (ditto), etc.
Each picture helps build the song’s atmosphere of thunderhead menace that the
ridiculously catchy chorus cannot clear.
11. “Life Goes On” by The Damned
Killing Joke may have been miffed that Nirvana’s “Come As
You Are” was so similar to their “Eighties”, but I wonder how Captain Sensible
felt about the similarity of “Eighties” to his own “Life Goes On”? Based on his
lyrics, Sensible probably just shrugged it off. Based on The Damned’s recording
of his song, he had nothing to worry about, because “Life Goes On” is the best
of those three excellent tracks as far as I’m concerned. How can a song be so
simultaneously glum and uplifting? A perfect song for any mood. A perfect song,
period.
10. “I Need That Record” by The Tweeds
“I Need That Record”
by obscure eighties power-pop group Tweeds could be the theme for this list. It
celebrates the joy of being a mega-music geek whose reason for existence is
hunting down that totally rare, perfectly mint, colored-vinyl, out-of-print
record by his or her favorite group. It’s also a brilliantly conceived three
and a half minutes of exuberant power pop. This song makes me wants to pull all
my albums off the shelves and give each one a big kiss.
9. “Beyond Belief” by Elvis Costello and
the Attractions
Elvis Costello is a master of pop craftsmanship with utter
respect for the verse/chorus/bridge/chorus structure, but he tossed that shit
right out the window when he wrote “Beyond Belief”. The song unfolds gradually,
crawling through a couple of taut verses, then hinting at climax with a brief
sparkling interlude, before snapping shut like a bear trap for another verse
that finally explodes into an exhilarating repeated refrain (and it explodes quite
literally… listen for that “bomb” blast!). The genius of the nontraditional
structure of “Beyond Belief” is the way it builds suspense; instead of
scattering little pay-offs throughout the piece, as most writers use choruses,
Elvis saves it up for the end, and it’s well worth the wait. If Alfred
Hitchcock had written a pop song, it would have been “Beyond Belief”.
8. “Walking in the Dark” by Throwing Muses
An attic empty aside from a grand piano, a single naked
light bulb, and a ghost wailing of death dreams. Then in comes the rhythm
section, and jewels of every color drop from the ceiling. Lights whirl. Brains
get buzzed from some concoction served in a round bottom beaker. Kristen Hersh
recites pure poetry that evokes a faded, fantastical childhood long gone. So do
her piano riffs, which recall “Linus and Lucy”. “Walking in the Dark” is a
precious antique.
7. “I Got You” by Split Enz
Had The Beatles been born twenty years later than they were,
they probably would have made something like “I Got You”. The track is clearly
a product of the eighties, with its fairground organ, synthy textures, and
verses that Neil Finn sings like an IBM motherboard. However, that glorious
chorus could have been ripped right off of A
Hard Day’s Night. Malcolm Green’s abuse of his crash cymbal right
before the fade out reduces me to a heap of ash.
6. “The Big Sky (Special Single Mix)” by
Kate Bush
More than any other song, “The Big Sky” drives home the fact
that the most extraordinary instrument on Hounds
of Love is its mistress’ voice. However, the finest version of this track
can be found on 45 and on a CD reissue that irks some fans because it swaps
out the mix originally included on the LP. In this “special single mix,” the
drums hold off a bit for a spacious introduction, which heightens the drama
before they start rumbling and Kate goes crazy. On the endless repeat that
climaxes the track, she abandons herself completely with shrieks that easily
rank alongside such scream-sterpieces as McCartney’s on “Hey Jude” and Daltrey’s
on “Won’t Get Fooled Again”. My spine vibrates just thinking about it!
5. “Antmusic” by Adam and the Ants
This may be the only pop song that uses tapping for its
central hook. I’m surprised every other new wave band didn’t jump on the
tapping bandwagon, because it’s so infectious on this track. Marco Pirroni’s
glam guitar harmonies and Adam’s hiccups about an insectious new musical craze
are brilliant too. That tapping is like the tapping off those millions of tiny
ant feet stomping along to the catchiest hit of 1980. I used to watch hours of
MTV just waiting for this video to come on. It never came on often enough for
me.
4. “Debaser” by The Pixies
Kim Deal bops out an utterly simple, utterly attention-snatching
bass line. Joey Santiago goes surfing. David Lovering goes dancing. Black
Francis focuses his wild surrealism to compose a love letter to Un Chien Andalou. Eyeballs get sliced.
Girls get groovy. Everyone grows up to be a debaser. I have never been at a
party that didn’t go nuts when this came on the sound system. What “Twist and
Shout” was for the sixties, “Debaser” was for the nineties. Really, it sounds
nothing like the eighties product it is. It still sounds freakily futuristic
today.
3. “Clean Money” by Elvis Costello and the Attractions
Elvis Costello has written some deathless songs during his nearly
forty-year career, but what may be his most compelling one is buried on the
B-side of “Clubland”. “Clean Money” is the hardest, fastest, noisiest thing
Elvis and the Attractions ever recorded. So much melody, energy, compositional
invention, and lyrical wit (there’s that “love for tender” metaphor in its
original context!) is packed into the song’s fleeting two minutes that it
should have earned Elvis the Nobel Prize for Architecture. If you’ve ever
wondered how the guy who sang “Veronica” and “Allison” was once considered part
of the punk movement, you need to hear this song. Just try not to explode.
2. “Painted Bird” by Siouxsie and the
Banshees
Siouxsie and the Banshees flaunt their references on
“Painted Bird”, a tribute to the Jerzy Kosinski novel of the same name and a
nod to Alfred Hitchcock’s terror classic about feathered fiends gone wild. Really,
though, it is not its literacy or cleverness that drives me mad; it’s the way
those spinning verses blows up into those chorus crowded with Siouxsie’s
contrapuntal vocals, the way that John McGeoch’s ascending riff pushes up beneath
them, launching those voices into the sky. This is the song I want to hear the
next time a million sparrows burst out of my skull.
1. “Curtain Call” by The Damned
To every critic who dismissed The Damned as the talentless,
foolish also-rans in a punk pioneer roster that includes The Clash and The Sex
Pistols, I say listen to “Curtain Call” then go fuck yourself. Masterminded by
Dave Vanian, “Curtain Call” is a work of true invention and enormous
creativity, a monument of creepy ambiance and impeccable pop song craft. It is a
harrowing mega-epic that would have gotten The Damned’s punk membership card
revoked had they recorded it two years earlier. Jam-loaded with darkly
atmospheric verses, deliriously catchy choruses with odd touches of Broadway, a
dreamy bridge courtesy of Captain Sensible, a plethora of sound effects and
synthesizer experiments, and a shuddering tape loop of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, “Curtain Call” couldn’t be
more at odds with punk ethos, yet it’s a spectacular piece of music, one that
Damned fans once voted their favorite in a poll on the band’s official site. “Curtain
Call” is my absolute favorite way to spend 17 minutes. It’s my favorite songs
of the 1980s.
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