by Bananarama (1983)I never associate the Bananarama hit Cruel Summer with The Karate Kid, but it was the movie that put the song on the top ten. Not sure why the video for the lonely heartbroken pop song was about the girls working at a mechanics garage until the coppers chase them down, but it sure makes for early eighties, naive music video fun. Relive it just in time for your own, hopefully less cruel summer days.
by The Dixie Cups (1965), The Bell Stars (1989), James Sugar Boy Crawford (1953)Wow, between Beetlejuice, Keanu Reeves, Frazetta and the Smiths, I really seem to be revisiting the mid to late eighties with all my heart this week. The trend continues with Iko Iko, a song introduced to me via the Bell Stars rendition in Rainman. Something about the kite festival got it in my head and it’s been pleasantly rattling there ever since. I’ve learned that the Dixie Cups 1965 version is even better (and probably my favorite if I had to pick) and that among many people The Grateful Dead and Cyndi Lauper also have versions. The very first original though, is pretty rocking and fab and comes from James Sugar Boy Crawford. See videos for all these after the jump.
Click here for the rest of Iko Iko
by The Smiths (1986)The Smiths are the kind of band that elicits such tenacious adoration and devotion from it’s fans and that love is something you either get or you don’t. For those that like me get it, you only have to hear a refrain:
“I’ve got the twenty first century breathing down my neck”,
“Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head…”,
“A dreaded sunny day..”,
“And now I know how Joan of Arc felt…”,
“Take me out tonight.”,
“From the ice age to the dole age there is but one concern…”
to be transported to an emotional state that’s frankly (Mr Shankly) hard to describe. There’s part longing, part sentiment, part defiance, part arrogance, part romance and part glorious despair in their music. All the songs quoted above, which are so ingrained in certain children of the 80s, and were personally such a part of my adolescence are found on The Queen is Dead. It’s an undeniably impressive track listing of catchy, unrepeated (because really, who since has the same sound and dynamics as the Smiths?) pop musical wonderment. It’s one of the few listening experiences that actually make the pain and complexity of adolescence sound appealing and dignified. It’s really hitting the spot lately.
If you missed out on the Smiths so far, and want to get on board, well you could really start with any album as they’re all phenomenal, but many find this to be their best total effort.
Click here for the rest of The Queen is Dead
Lou Gramm and Gerard McMann (1987)Even though it seemed inevitable, I was truly saddened by the news of Corey Haim’s recent passing. My sister and I grew up with the guy as a major pop culture icon and I still count myself a major fan of his best work, The Lost Boys. While the entire soundtrack was hardly pure gold (Jim has a real hard time with Echo and the Bunnymen’s ‘People are Strange’ cover), two songs stand out and are still on my iPod to this day.
So, in memory of the goofy kid whose voice would break, whose sideways smile would elicit sighs from preteen girls the world over, and who lived his adult life, tragically, as a lost boy, let’s play some Lou Gramm (Say hello to the night [lost boys] lost in the shadows!”) and, while we’re at, spin Gerard McMann’s Cry Little Sister (though shall not fallllll).
Wow, even just thinking about these songs memories of the tumultuous emotions and achingly conflicted and full heart I had to contend with in sixth grade come flooding back; these were the days my friends and I wanted to be in the Vampire cult (we made up the belief that if you used a ouija board in the deepest room in the house –in my case the basement laundry room – you could summon the spirits to turn into a vampire) and took major dressing cues from Star. It’s funny, it all seems so long ago, but when triggered by these songs, that intense time is as close as ever.
by Sigue Sigue Sputnik (1986)Like many of us (I assume) Love Missile F1-11 by cyber punk pop band Sigue Sigue Sputnik (which means burn, burn missile) is familiar to me because of its inclusion in the 80’s classic comedy, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. The band, who as you can see below/after the jump, look like loads of fun with their towering mohawks, tight bright pants, and dripping leopard furs. Sadly, the band itself never experienced any major fame aside from this single though members went on to form Sisters of Mercy and Big Audio Dynamite II.
Click here for the rest of Love Missile F1-11
by Carole King (1971)Carole King’s Tapestry is the aural equivalent of being wrapped up in an afghan blanket on a cold night – or mom hugs when you’re a kid; it’s just so cozy and comforting. Filled to the brim with recognizable hits like I Feel the Earth Move (which I remember vividly playing at a Children’s museum that had a room simulating an earthquake), So Far Away, and my favorite, It’s Too Late, as well as covers of songs that she originally wrote but became hits for other acts like Will You Love Me Tomorrow, You’ve Got a Friend, and You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman.
It’s little wonder that this was such a wildly popular record (spending 15 weeks at number one, which is the longest time for an album by a woman to occupy that position). It’s a simple pleasure that feels as relevant as ever with its hazy kitty cat cover photo and its simple, unadorned production.
Click here for the rest of Tapestry
My sister saw Michael Damian in concert when we were kids; all I remember was my own envy and my dad saying that he opened with Rock On and closed with Rock On?twice.
Speaking of Damian, you should try to track down the volume of TV Carnage that features an astoundingly in-depth Current Affair piece on the time he got attacked by an angry fan during a mall parking lot performance.
The song is a remake of a David Essex hit, but only Damian's version had the honor of gracing the Corey and Corey film, Dream A Little Dream.
Crazy Price is an oddball little album that's added a bit of fun to the work day like a refreshingly fizzy glass of soda pop. Hailing from Russia, Messer Chups sounds inspired by lounge music like Esquivel and B movies soundtracks and employ all sorts of quirky instruments to make their happy sounds.
It's kind of surfy, kind of spooky, kind of jazzy, kind of exotica, and totally kooky and lovable; my favorite song is “Sex Euro and Evil Pops“.
Thanks to Shaun for passing this one along.
I found the song Ce Garcons from a RC link Marcus wrote up about the lost art of the Scopitone. As he informed us:
“The Scopitone was a sort of ?ideo jukebox' that was first started in France during the 60s then slowly made there way to the US for a short time (there were about 5-600 in the States until the 70s, maybe killed by cable and the beginnings of MTV?). It had a 26″ screen on which a special 16mm music film were displayed.?It operated very similar to a jukebox so I sort of envision a moppy haired mass of teens crowding around it in some bar or coffee house.?Checking out scopitones.com, looks indeed like the French really elevated this art form.?Sort of makes one wants to dig up an old film camera and start a fake band.?Who's with me?”
As for the adorable Les Surfs themselves, I have very little information. The only wikipedia entry is in French and no par lay voo. But the pint sized band also covered Be My Baby.
Oh, AM golden goodness roll over me! What You Won't Do For Love makes me feel like I'm being seduced by penthouse views while wearing Harem pants and accepting a glass of sparkling wine.
The song may sound familiar to you from the many, many songs that sample it. This jazzy number was surely the biggest of his career in the US, but I learned from wikipedia that he has a lasting and devoted fan base in Japan. ?br/>