By RAR
For
me, popular music -- which had gone through a long, abysmal period
called the 1970s -- sprang back to life in the 1980s. It rode into the
public imagination atop the burgeoning cable TV industry, which by the
start of the decade was pushing Music Television (MTv) into households
across the developed world and influencing style and social
consciousness. In America, it made celebrities of the early Video
Jockeys (Veejays), including Martha Quinn, Nina Blackwood, Alan
Hunter, and Marc Goodman, who in retrospect seem like the most
vanilla people imaginable to be associated with a social revolution,
though that is exactly what theirs was. The world was heading into a
period of technological and social change that would pry open the
doorway to a whole new world -- one from which we would never return --
and it was happening at a time when we were in desperate need of a new
direction.
The end of the 1960s arrived like a funeral, featuring the death of
The Beatles and all the love-and-peace that they could possibly
stand. The Fab Four had become a little surly, along with everybody
else. In America, the Viet Nam War weighed heavily on young minds, and
we were already feeling an escalation in the erosion of "the American
Dream". People were tired, introspective, sick of celebrity artifice,
and desperate for music that somehow captured the apprehension and
anxiety that they were feeling in their lives. So we got James Taylor,
with his sanitarium tales, and the reassuring wisdoms of Cat Stevens,
both of whom are still around today, though their golden periods were
brief, swept aside by a rate of change in public interests that was an
early indicator of a fracturing in American culture that today has found
expression in the myriad of niche programming available through
Internet, satellite, and cable television services.
The early 1970s gave us mellow rock and revised editions of folk
rock, along with the tailings of America's nascent experiment with punk
rock. Punk had failed to expand beyond NYC, but it would re-emerge in
the U.K. late in the decade with extraordinary impact. Bruce
Springsteen emerged, melding brash attitude with folkie
singer-songwriter sensitivity, and so perpetuated what was then a still-new strain of
rock balladeer. Joni Mitchell and Paul Simon, both of whom
had emerged in the 1960s, did some really mature and "important" work in
the '70s, though both had changed, becoming more inwardly focused and
outwardly dismissive of the changes all around them.
The epicenter of American pop music largely remained
on the west coast,
and out of Los Angeles we got a hybrid brand of Nashville Country called
Country Rock. For a time, acoustic instruments were all the rage, but
then there was a backlash against that with the appearance of
dance-oriented Disco Music. R&B got very funky and very Black in its
visual presentation, which seemed to create a unique no-Whites-aloud
playing field for bands like Earth, Wind & Fire and The Commodores. It
was quite different from the race-neutral way that R&B had been
presented in the previous decade. (Consider the stage image of The
Temptations, in business suits, versus that of the previously mentioned
R&B acts, which ranged from African attire to futuristic space outfits,
all signifying big changes in American culture, and all clothing that
only Black folk could get away with.) Then there was a period of Jazz Rock, and we
got the further emergence of Glitter Rock, which had roots dating back
to the '60s.
Moving stealthily in the shadows through the entire period was
David Bowie, who had been around in fringe roles for more than a
decade but would emcee the opening of the new age - the Modern Rock era.
That happened in two parts - that which saw the
light-of-day via MTv, and the alternative sounds that found traction on
the great "Modern Rock" radio stations of the day. KIIS in L.A.
may have been cranking out Michael Jackson, but in San Francisco "The
Quake" and later "Live 105" (the first morphed into the latter, existing
today as a mockery of its former self) were spinning liberating tunes
announcing a new attitude. Those stations, with music directors like
Steve Masters, brought music in from the UK and other parts of
Europe, and it is really that music that changed our culture into
whatever it is today. It put Gay feelings and issues front and center,
which over time softened cultural resistance to the acceptance of
alternative lifestyles.
While MTv was being taken over by Hair bands and
the Sammy Hagars of the rock world, the alternative-rock world was
shaping an entirely other universe - the one that would prevail. And
straddling that divide between old and new was David Bowie, whose alt
roots went way back to the '60s, when he was producing Iggy Pop's
first two solo LPs and writing "Lust for Life" on Ukelele. Bowie was an avatar of a new age, and he was
perfect at it. |
Best of Class
New
Order: Rising in 1980 from the ashes of Joy Division,
New Order was comprised of clever songwriters who crafted lovely
melodies and thoughtful, haunted lyrics, while also immersing themselves
in utterly forgettable dance music. What has survived the past
three-plus decades is a group of pop tunes ("Regret", "Blue Monday",
"Bizarre Love Triangle", "Perfect Kiss") that, along side the work of a
few other stalwart acts, define '80s music.
The Smiths: Like New Order, The
Smiths came from Manchester, England, and they did for guitar-rock what
New Order did for synth-rock, which is to say that they gave it a
signature character. The bulk of The Smith's musical signature belongs
to guitarist
Johnny Marr, whose deft layering of melodic guitar
parts has no real equal to this day. And then there was Stephen
Morrissey - Morrissey, as the world knows him today - who was
perhaps the most gifted lyrical ironist to come along since Oscar Wilde.
The Cure:
Robert Smith is The Cure, for
most people, though he began his career with the band, in West Sussex, England in 1976,
as just one of the boys. Smith is one of the most
engaging songwriters and personalities of his era. He is the image of
Goth, for many people, but is far more enigmatic than what one might
imagine. Smith wasn't the main songwriter on the band's early work, nor
was he the vocalist, which now seems unimaginable because The Cure
cranked out a string of hits ("Let's Go to Bed", "Just Like Heaven", "Lovesong",
"Friday I'm in Love") that one cannot imagine being written or sung by
anybody else. Smith is a sneaky-good guitarist and arranger, and a
one-off personality. The members of the band, other than Smith, have
changed over the years, but The Cure have remained great. In
Jason Cooper
they have one of the finest drummers on the planet.
The Pretenders: Where The Smiths
had Johnny Marr and The Cure Robert Smith,
The Pretenders once had the
late James Honeyman-Scott, who died of a cocaine-induced heart
attack in 1982 at 25 years of age. Honeyman-Scott, like Marr and Smith,
was an extraordinary visionary in the development of sophisticated
guitar parts. In Chrissie Hynde, he had a songwriting partner and
an alpha front-girl, a living incarnation of rock coolness, and one
capable of continuing Honeyman-Scott's instrumental vision even after
his death. He informs every Pretenders song to this day, like a
brilliant, beautiful ghost that hovers protectively over the band's
legacy. And Chrissie Hynde is a premier songwriter.
Psychedelic Furs: For most
people, The Psychedelic Furs emerged from the soundtracks of
those John Hughes teen-comedies (Pretty in Pink) of the '80s.
Established in punk London in 1977, they had been around nearly ten
years by the time Hughes was inspired to write a movie based on the name
of one of their songs. The brothers Richard and Tim Butler,
working collaboratively with band members, have developed a songbook
that is consistently powerful, has few equals, and in Richard Butler
they have one of the greatest character voices in the history of popular
music - the Jeremy Irons of rock. Second Tier Notables
The Clash:
Many '80s rock enthusiasts are devoted to
The Clash, the
post-punk rockers who came out of London in 1976. Rolling Stone
magazine named their 1979 London Calling album the "Best Album of
the 1980s" (in keeping with a long history of absurd best-of lists).
Joe Strummer and Mick Jones were well-connected in the London
punk music scene, and they happened to come together as The Clash during
a down period for popular music. They were the Nirvana of their period,
in that sense, a B-level act that arrived in a C-level market. Strummer
was a primitive, more artifice than
authenticity. Jones was far more musical and lyrically inventive, and it
is his songs that have been covered by others. They are grossly over-rated, which means they are
huge!
Depeche Mode:
For all the people who adored The Clash, there are at least as many people who hated Depeche
Mode (which could be translated in French as "Fashion Dispatch"). They were a synth band populated with
guys who in the latter '70s had been emulating The Cure and David Bowie in local outfits,
before coming together in 1980 around new music technology. The
sound of synthesizers fascinated young creatives, but it left much of
the public suspicious of the legitimacy of music coming from chips
rather than guitars. It probably didn't help their overall level of
acceptance that their first UK hit was the dancy "Just Can't Get
Enough", which is an awful song, but the kind that often works with the
club set. The band lost founding member Vince Clarke, soon after
they achieved success. Reportedly sick of promotional activities, he
went off to form the band Yazoo, with Alison Moyet, and later Erasure
with Andy Bell. With Clarke gone, remaining members Andy Fletcher,
Martin Gore, and Dave Gahan went on to progressively darker
and more introspective sounds, culminating with their 1989 Violator
album, which yielded the alt-rock classics "Personal Jesus" and "Enjoy
the Silence".
INXS:
Out of Australia, INXS was another band that formed in
1977 but hit big in 1980, just as the "Modern Rock" era was dawning. The
band's front man, Michael Hutchence, was the Jim Morrison of his
day, with sultry good looks, an athletic bearing, and an attitude of
infectious self-confidence. In Hutchence, the Ferriss Brothers
(composer and keyboardist Andrew Farriss, drummer Jon Farriss,
guitarist Tim Farriss) found the perfect complement to their
sophisticated rock, which ranged from big sprawling power ballads, to
funky edge
rock, to dance music. The band developed a great songbook, and they are
probably way under-appreciated as arrangers, because all of their song's
are beautifully orchestrated and choreographed.
Billy Idol:
Who would have imagined that the clownish Billy Idol,
who had haunted London's punk scene in the Sex Pistols period, would
turn out to be one of the great rock survivors. Billy hasn't changed an
iota from his snarling, posing, spiky-haired youthful self, when he
seemed contrived specifically for MTv. His camera-ready attitude was a
beautiful thing to see, almost to the extent that Idol's songbook sort
of snuck by critical review, which it actually deserved. "Eyes Without a
Face" and "Flesh for Fantasy" are tremendously nuanced and atmospheric,
"Forgot to Be a Lover" stands with any Elvis-inspired rocker ever done,
and "White Wedding" was the song we played when my wife and I were
married, so f-you! (I stuck that in there just for a little Billy-tude,
but baled on the vulgar language.) Billy Idol has been doing
months-long residencies in Las Vegas over the past year, and he
sometimes shows up with his own special hour-long show on Sirius XM,
where he plays stuff he personally likes. It's actually not that
interesting.
Siouxsie and the Banshees:
Wow, bad press everywhere. I have never
heard any media person ever have a nice thing to say about Susan
Janet Ballion, who the world knows as Siouxsie Sioux. Journalists
have openly despised her abusive nature in interviews, often suggesting
that her nasty attitude is exacerbated by alcohol abuse. It's a shame,
because she has been one of the brightest lights in all of modern rock
history. She was also around in the Sex Pistols '70s, but her punk
attitude is more than equaled by her art-school approach to interpreting
songs. She has a rangy voice that rings with authority, and she arranges
it in psychedelic soundscapes that seem to attract other worldly
energies, making each of her songs as much a psychic as a musical
experience. I have no idea what songs like "Peek-A-Boo" or "Kiss Them
for Me" are about, but I love listening to them.
Thomas Dolby:
Thomas Dolby is now a Professor of the Arts at Johns
Hopkins University, though he still finds time to do Chautauqua-like
appearances, where he plays his hits - often accompanied only by his
electronics - and talks about music, creativity, and technology. He has
Silicon Valley connections, and he has been the music director for the
TED series. It all just seems so right for a guy who arrived on MTv as a
sort of mad scientist singing "Blinded Me with Science" and
"Hyperactive". He was, in fact, a harbinger of a future age, when other
science-minded guys like him (Trent Reznor and will.i.am come to mind)
would somehow connect the worlds of popular music and computer science.
The Pet Shop Boys:
This is the best-selling duo in U.K. history. Neil
Tennant (main vocals, keyboards, occasional guitar) and Chris
Lowe (keyboards, occasional vocals) launched their project in 1981
and turned a bunch of cheeky up-tempo pop attitude into a dance
fantastic. The Pet Shop Boys covered the cornball ballad "Always On My
Mind" and dueted with the venerable Dusty Springfield on "What Have I
Done to Deserve This?". They captured a strange sense of unease with
their '80s world, and a strong satirical bent, with atmospheric pump-ups
like "West End Girls", "It's a Sin", "Go West", and "Opportunities
(Let's Make Lots of Money)". The Pet Shop Boys always sounded smart,
even when they were being silly.
English Beat:
Known as The Beat in the UK, and later as General Public,
the band was fronted by Dave Wakeling and the ska rapping
Ranking Roger, making the English Beat one of only a few big
Black/White acts of the '80s. Wakeling wrote the three-chord classic
"Save It for Later", which is infectious enough to sound fresh 30 years
after the fact. |
XTC:
After forming in 1972 and surviving for 10 years as a band trying to
find itself, XTC finally got traction with a couple Colin Moulding
tunes - "Making Plans for Nigel" and "Generals and Majors". Those tunes
put XTC on the map in the U.K., in the early '80s, and eventually led
their label, Virgin Records, to pair them with producer/musician Todd
Rundgren, which became a legendarily acrimonious association, albeit a
successful one. XTC's more prolific songwriter - Andy Partridge -
hated Rundgren and his corporate mission, which was to turn XTC into a
hit stateside. Partridge's incendiary "Dear God" was the focal point,
with Rundgren committed to the song even knowing that it might create a
firestorm of criticism in the U.S., where orthodox Christian religious
views are held sacrosanct. Partridge kept the track off their
Skylarking album, which was remastered and re-released after DJs
started playing "Dear God" like a bootleg track and it became popular.
Partridge has excelled at writing fearless political and social
diatribes, like "Peter Pumpkinhead", and unusual and infectious pop, as
with "Senses Working Overtime". While band members have gone off to
separate projects (always did), the individuals are still around today,
and Partridge is still fighting with Todd Rundgren who called him a
"pussy" on Mark Maron's podcast.
SALON INTERVIEW WITH PARTRIDGE:
Salon did an interesting interview with Andy Partridge last year. A
painter who designed XTC's cover art, Partridge at the time was
writing songs for The Monkees.
Read the article here for more on that.
Squeeze:
Back in the day, there were music critics who treated
Squeeze songwriters
Chris Difford and
Glenn Tilbrook as the inheritors of the Lennon-McCartney mantle.
I'm okay with that. While lyricist Difford and composer Tilbrook never
achieved Beatle status, they wrote a raft of great songs that were
crafty in ways that evoked the Beatle formula. Squeeze never made it to
playlists beyond the the Alt-Modern Rock in the U.S., though they were
big in their home United Kingdom during the New Wave of the late-1970s.
Howard Jones:
Known as a defining figure in '80s synth-pop, Howard
Jones had ten top 40 hit singles in the UK between 1983 and 1986,
including six top ten. His 1984 album Human's Lib went to number one.
Around the world, he had 15 top 40 hit singles between 1983 and 1992. He
grew up in a musical family and honed his chops in a band with his
brothers, before going on to the Royal Northern College of Music in
Manchester, getting into Buddhism in a big way, playing in a few bands,
and then renting the Marquee Club in London to showcase for record
labels. It worked. Jone's music was upbeat, optimistic, a little
spiritual, and very bouncy. "Do you feel scared? I do, but I won't stop
and falter" from "Things Can Only Get Better" still inspires.
UB40:
While I don't know if this Birmingham band was really the
inspiration, but UB40's story sounds a lot like that of the movie band
"The Commitments". Named after Britain's unemployment application form,
"UB40 formed in mid-1978 when guitarist Ali Campbell, together with the
rhythm section of drummer Jimmy Brown and bassist Earl Falconer, began
rehearsing charting reggae songs in addition to some of their own
original compositions. They were soon joined by several of their
friends, firstly percussionists Yomi Babayemi and Norman Hassan, and
then saxophonist Brian Travers and keyboardist Jimmy Lynn. Robin
Campbell, although initially reluctant to commit to forming a band with
the others, was invited to join once again by his brother..." (from
Wikipedia). UB40 was a good vibe, and they are still around today,
having sold over 70 million records worldwide.
Talking Heads:
Talking Heads formed in 1975 in New York City, the
art-band collective comprised of David Byrne (lead vocals,
guitar), Chris Frantz (drums), Tina Weymouth (bass), and
Jerry Harrison (keyboards, guitar). They were headed to the
Rock'n Roll Hall of Fame, assisted by producer Brian Eno and filmmaker
Jonathan Demme, who helped them create indelible images through their
"Stop Making Sense" movie project. The nerdish David Byrne, who may have
inspired the creators of "The Big Bang Theory" has had a wonderful
post-Heads career as a songwriter exploring eclectic Latin sounds. He
has been a clever ironical lyricist and social observer.
Echo and the Bunnymen:
The Bunnymen formed in
Liverpool in 1978, with vocalist Ian
McCulloch, guitarist Will
Sergeant and bassist
Les Pattinson, and later drummer Pete
de Freitas. They were
something like The Arctic Monkeys of their time, rich with animal energy
and wicked smarts. They were on the UK charts within two years and
developed an early cult status that survives to this day. McCulloch,
Sergeant, and Pattinson tour to this day.
The Cult:
The Cult came together in England in 1983, and they are
still around today, purveyors of a heavy metal Goth rock that is
muscular, dark as The Doors, and mystical in a Led Zeppelin kind of a
way. Heavy-duty rockers, who moved to L.A. years ago where they
struggled with the lifestyle, The Cult is one of those rare heavy-rock
bands whose music I crank up on the radio. Producer Rick Rubin worked
with them in their later incarnations to give them a little more
polished sound.
REM:
If Squeeze inherited the Lennon/McCartney mantle in the
U.K., Athens, Georgia's R.E.M. probably gets that nod stateside. They
were good at writing folk-rock tunes that used the jingle-jangle
Rickenbacker sound that recalled The Beatles for so many. R.E.M.
featured drummer Bill Berry, guitarist Peter Buck,
bassist/backing vocalist Mike Mills, and lead vocalist Michael
Stipe, whose voice is one people enjoy listening to. Some consider
theirs to be the first alternative rock band, in that they were doing
something very independent of the other types of popular music around in
1980. They come across as artists, in a low profile sort of way - a
perception furthered by the earnestness of Michael Stipe's signature
sound.
Bryan Ferry:
Ferry's band Roxy Music was really pretty much
over by 1982, but Bryan Ferry himself has to be referenced in any
discussion of the Modern Rock era. He was really a contemporary of David
Bowie, but he is something like the last surviving crooner, with a
thick, lush, and classy sound. Still touring today, Ferry is a like a
wonderful dinosaur, a living reminder of an earlier strain of big band
singer.
Annie Lennox:
Scottish singer Lennox came to prominence with Dave
Stewart with the arty Eurythmics, spinning smart and worldly
tales with grand themes and far-ranging insights. Like Bryan Ferry,
Lennox is an honored as a national hero, she with an Order fo the
British Empire (OBE) Officer medal for her civil service, and he with a
CBE, making him a Commander for his civil service. Not sure why he gets
to be a commander, and Annie a mere officer, but so goes the world.
Lennon is a great singer, a powerful female symbol even while
representing an androgynous identity, and she seems like someone who
wouldn't bullshit you, which puts an edge of authority on every note she
sings.
Berlin:
Comprised of
Orange County kids,
Berlin came together in 1979 with clear designs on the then-new MTv.
They had the look, particularly in front girl Terri Nunn, who had sharp,
exotic features somewhat along the lines of Deborah Harry. Nunn might
have been the better singer, and Berlin had some interesting hits with
"The
Metro",
"Sex
(I'm A...)",
and "No
More Words".
Then they scared really big with "Take
My Breath Away"
from the 1986 film Top
Gun.
Though I was not a fan of this band at the time, those first three songs
sound surprisingly good when I hear them now on Sirius XM.
B-52s:
What can you say about the B-52s, who emerged with R.E.M. out of Athens,
Georgia in 1976. Fronted by Fred Schneider
(vocals), Kate Pierson (vocals, keyboards), and Cindy Wilson (vocals,
percussion), the band was huge fun, amazingly able to churn out keenly
crafted pop rock that was rhythmic, cleverly composed, and often funny.
That fronting trio worked like some gay version of a comedy trio that
had never existed before but somehow seemed really familiar. They were
like listening to a conversation between a funny guy and his close
friends. Everything about them was open and inclusive, a really sweet
humanity at the core of all they did, and fine musicianship to boot.
Beastie Boys:
The Beastie Boys are one of the nicer things to have ever
happened to crossover music. Michael "Mike D" Diamond (vocals,
drums), Adam "MCA" Yauch (vocals, bass), and Adam "Ad-Rock"
Horovitz (vocals, guitar) came out of New York City in 1981, a punk
band that found success doing Hip-hop, and then crossover success by
broadening their range to include power rock. And they did it all with
extraordinary music and comic timing. Flat-out great.
Red Hot Chili Peppers:
It has to be something about Anthony Kiedis
and Flea. These two were knocking around L.A. in the early '80s,
and apparently germinating a style of rock-rap that grew in powerful and
profound ways despite this duo's inability to maintain a consistent
supporting lineup. Somehow every guitarist and drummer they have added
temporarily to their lineup (except Dave Grohl, who has no talent) has
excelled in a huge way. Listening to Chili Peppers tract, and
particularly the stuff played by guitarist John Fusciante, is one
of the great pleasures in modern music. And Flea, who recently started
taking formal bass guitar lessons, must be one of the greatest bass
guitarists of all time. He and Kiedis seem to know a thing or to about
building a sound.
Adam Ant:
Adam and the Ants was a
theatrical rock project fronted by singer-actor
Stuart Leslie Goddard (aka "Adam Ant"). They
scored 10 UK top ten hits from 1980 to 1983, and they were a popular MTv
video group. I never paid any attention to their stupid songs, until I
listened to them 30 years later and decided they were great. Go figure.
Modern English:
Modern English, who still tour to this day
with four of their original five members, came out of Colchester, Essex,
England. They did one of my favorite songs of all time, "I Melt with
You".
Bauhaus:
Bauhaus formed in Northampton, England in 1978, and they
introduced the world to a couple guys who would go on to be really
important in the Modern Rock world. One was Peter Murphy (vocals,
occasional instruments), the other Daniel Ash (guitar). After the
dark Goth rock of the art-band Bauhaus, Peter Murphy would go on to a
solo career, and Ash would have success with Bauhaus veteran David J
(bass) with Love and Rockets. All of those bands have cool in
common, a kind of worldly smarts, and I love to listen to Peter Murphy's
voice. Bauhaus was a great band of musicians. Their cover of Iggy
Stardust is equal in all ways to Bowie's original, and their "Bela
Lugosi's Dead" is a perpetual Halloween favorite. |