1987 And MTV

I know the old joke -- Remember when MTV played music?

In 1987, I was in that sweet spot -- thirty-two years old, with two kids who were still fun to be around. I had a job I still liked; second shift at the local hospital, a work schedule that suited our family's circumstances just fine.The Medical Floor had two wings, a modern robin's-egg blue-walled cubby with a softly-carpeted waiting area near the elevator, furnished with cushy magenta chairs and sunflower prints on the walls; and the old annex, with its scuffed linoleum and the clatter of every dropped dinner tray echoing off its cavernous walls. I believe in the thirties the old wing was used as a psychiatric cell. Our work schedules were hand-drawn three months in advance, so we worker drones would know where we belonged on any given day. I rotated between the old and new wings. I liked the old one. I can't explain it rationally -- I think it just felt more real. A hospital is a sad place, but we didn't give in to sorrow. We couldn't. We had our "regulars"; those who were admitted every couple of weeks or so -- the elders with emphysema, the teenage kids with cystic fibrosis, who were the most joyous humans on the planet. We all knew their timeline was approaching its end and we huddled together and dripped tears on the newspaper print when a sad obituary was flayed across the nurses' station.

I was a civilian -- a ward clerk who tended to the doctors' orders and the next-day's breakfast choices. I scheduled surgeries and made sure the lab techs drew blood for the appropriate tests. I filled water pitchers. I helped to turn the patients when the RN's were busy tending to a combative old man who had wrested out of his restraints.

Around lights-out, the nurses and I settled in at the station and worked on our craft projects. Cross-stitch became my salve, my Zen. We flipped up the volume on the radio dial and bounced a bit in our chairs to the latest hits. Ten o'clock, I zipped through the sliding doors in the lobby, keys in hand; breathed in the cool night air, and snuggled inside the warm leather for my short drift home.

Our radio station was Y93. I was alive. Our Minnesota Twins were on a tear. I adopted baseball in 1987. We could feel it -- this time they were going to win it all -- our ragtag heroes, Gaetti, Hrbek, Kirby, Frank Viola, Dan Gladden, Brunansky. I learned to call strikes. I became a fool baseball expert in 1987.

And the radio and MTV featured songs like this:

I remember calling our local station and requesting that song, and the supercilious woman disc jockey informing me that they didn't play "that crap". She only deigned to play ZZ Top and Eric Clapton, apparently. You know, the stuff you twirl the dial on your radio to get away from. Because, you know, one just can't get enough of "Dude (Looks Like a Lady)".

1987 was also the year a savant voice appeared; somebody who couldn't possibly be that good, but she was. She was but twenty-four years old and she put all the old dudes and dudettes to shame. The sun sparkled in her eyes. Just watch:

Is Wang Chung a weird name? It doesn't seem weird to me, in hindsight. I do, though, remember an episode of Cheers in which Fraser Crane recited these immortal words:

Everybody have fun tonight
Everybody Wang Chung tonight

Concert videos, even "fake" concert videos, were awesome to we MTV viewers.  It's like we're there! 

Okay, I understood the stagecraft, but that didn't detract from this song's impact. Although I will say the song would not be quite as fabulous if it weren't for the "ooh-wah ooh-wah" talkbox. Just sayin'.

Not to mention the hair. And flying into the crowd was a cool touch.

And speaking of hair, let's just say this: Yes, it was the eighties. Yes, we had big hair; even the boys. Height was the desired standard. I had essentially the same hairstyle that John Bon Jovi had. It wasn't weird, because everybody looked like that. Sure, in hindsight it's weird. Again, it was the eighties. We also wore eyeglasses with gigantic frames that stretched from the tip of our hairline down to just above our upper lip. Again, it was the eighties.

Also, we had music videos with super models flouncing across the hoods of cars:

Some Irish band (who'd never last) appeared on the scene in '87.

If you're a girl, you'll understand this next song. If you're not a girl, you will be flummoxed. I don't understand the male brain. I guess men like fast cars and big guns and quick scene flashes. I guess it's why my husband likes "Big Trouble In Little China", which, while we're watching it for the twentieth time, allows me time to take a quick snooze. I don't know why men don't feel the emotional impact of this (please disregard the crappy preview):

There are the purists who say that Peter Cetera ruined Chicago. Then there's me who says, who the F gave a damn about Chicago before Peter Cetera joined the group? I don't know what Peter Cetera is doing nowadays, but I assume he's sitting at home counting his wads of cash. Cetera was ubiquitous on 1980's movie soundtracks. Think "Karate Kid".

Peter Cetera teamed with Amy Grant for a big 1987 hit:

I don't know about you, but for me, 1987 is defined by Huey Lewis and the News. There was just something about Huey. He was geeky and not anyone one would associate with pop music. And yet it worked. Sorry this video is so badly constructed:

As a sorta country-pop geek, this was my VERY FAVORITE single from 1987, and I love it today:

GEORGIA SATELLITES - Keep Your Hands To Yourself by legthrushe

Ahh, 1987 was a year. I love it for the tingling sensation of new untraveled roads. I miss it for the person I was then; wide-eyed, abashed.

More 1984!

I'm old enough to remember a time when we just listened to music. That method had its downside, though. For several years I thought the best Beatles songs were sung by Paul McCartney, because he was the cute Beatle. I was woefully wrong.

Thus, when MTV came along in the eighties, it was manna from heaven. Who needed a radio? And we actually knew what the guys and girls singing the songs looked like! This was a concept, like personal computers, that we didn't even know we needed -- until we discovered we did. Maybe I like eighties music so much because of MTV or maybe the music was just that good. I'm going with "that good".

There are one-hit wonders whose song we like; there are fads that now seem cheesy and what-the-hell-was-I-thinking; and then there is Hall and Oates:

 
Before the nineteen eighties, Tina Turner, to me, was Ike and Tina Turner -- you know, "rollin', rollin', rollin' on the river" and a gaggle of gals in sequined, tasseled dresses doing the frug...or some other sixties dance.

Surprisingly, Tina popped up again just when MTV came along. "What's Love Got To Do With It" put Tina back in the spotlight. Luckily. Because I heard her follow-up single on the radio a few days ago, and damn! It's bad! Here's how it goes (in its entirety):

I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money
I'll do what you want me to do
I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money
And any old music will do

And that's it! As a songwriter, I think that's cheating. You can't just repeat the same four lines over and over!  Yet it worked for Tina, so there's that.


That doesn't take away from her seminal hit. Let's listen (and watch):

I like this one better. I think it must be from a movie, and I'm going to Google that and find out right now. In the meantime, watch John Waite:

Well, according to my research, the song was featured in the movie "Selena" and also in Miami Vice, which I never watched, so I guess I only imagined that it was included in a John Hughes flick. I'm going to go out on a limb and say it should have been.

Whatever happened to Deniece Williams? She had a hit single from one of those movies I never actually saw, Footloose. Which doesn't explain why I know the song so well, except for endless plays on MTV. I saw the non-existent fore-mentioned John Hughes movie featuring John Waite's song more times than I saw Footloose. That doesn't take away from the giddy poppishness that was "Let's Hear It For The Boy":

You know you remember this next track. You probably didn't get it -- it is in German (?) after all -- but that didn't stop you and everyone else from turning it into a hit. Number twenty-eight of the year is the incomprehensible hit by Nena -- I don't know whether that's the girl's name of the name of the band, but what does it matter, really?

Apparently in the eighties there was this band called "Journey" (which is a really cheesy name, when you think about it).  I'm guessing they hit it big right before MTV came into existence, because I had absolutely no knowledge of them. Of course I know about Journey now. But I'm not (too) ashamed to admit that I had no clue who they were in 1984. All I knew was there was this great track by a guy named Steve Perry. I figured he was just a single act; a one-hit wonder. Hell of a singer, though. If someone handed me a list of pop songs and said, pick the best ones, I would pick this. I love this song:

Contrary to what Jack Black's character utters in High Fidelity, this is not the worst song ever recorded. Let's cut Stevie some slack, okay? I like it. I'll admit, though, that line in the movie made me feel supremely uncool. However, I'm okay with uncool. Uncool is the new cool. Number twenty-five!

Remember that list of pop songs someone gave me? Well, here's another one I'd pluck from it. My oldies station cued up this song as I was pulling into the Target parking lot, and I refused to kill the motor until I sat and listened to it all the way through. Elton John is a treasure and this song proves why:

Okay, I know I never saw the movie, Streets of Fire. I had to Google it to even know what it was. Nope, never ever saw it. Rick Moranis? Seriously? He was great on SCTV, and I loved him in Parenthood, but...nah....no clue. Nevertheless, I know this song, which again proves the power of music videos. This is Dan Hartman...who resides somewhere near Deniece Williams, I'm guessing; and they're both living off the royalties of their singular hit songs. I still like this one, though:

Confession:  For years I hated, detested! Billy Joel. I think it was subliminal. I remember as a pre-teen listening to a radio show on KFYR on Sunday nights called Padre's Platters. It was hosted by a real-life priest. Seriously. Well, Padre (I don't remember his actual name) went on a tear one night about how sacrilegious Billy Joel's song, Only The Good Die Young, was. I guess because it blasphemed Catholic girls.  Good Catholic girl that I was, in my subconscious I determined that listening to Billy Joel was akin to committing a mortal sin. That, plus I never liked how he yelled so much in his songs. I've come around a bit since then. I actually like some of Billy's tracks now and I'm ready to confess that I do. This one I really liked, mostly because I really liked the Four Seasons and this is a tribute to them:

Purists will say that Chicago ceased being Chicago when Peter Cetera joined the group. Poppists will say, there was a Chicago before Peter Cetera joined the group? Sorry, but hop off that high horse, guys. There wouldn't even be a nineteen eighties movie industry if it wasn't for Peter Cetera. Peter Cetera will easily duel with Kenny Loggins for the most tracks featured in hit eighties movies. Maybe he's an acquired taste -- I never had that problem. I always liked Peter's voice. Trust me, if it was just Saturday In The Park, I never would have purchased the "Best of Chicago". What screams the eighties more than Peter Cetera and Chicago? I bet the other Chicago guys, much as they disdain Peter, are living pretty high off their royalties.

This might be a good spot to bid adieu to 1984.

All in all, it was an excellent year for music.

I truly miss good years in music.

More Eighties Rock!

I did a previous post about eighties rock, and I promised more to come. Well, I kind of got sidetracked with other stuff (did I mention I have a short attention span?)

But tonight, as I'm sitting here, with basically nothing to do, I thought I would delve further into the wonderful world of rock and roll in the eighties.

There were so many memorable songs during that period that it's really difficult to narrow it down. I think I started off quite well on my first post, but then I got tired and had to go to bed.

But I'm back! And I always like to get the party started right, so here we go!

THE B-52'S - LOVE SHACK


Ahh, the 80's. When people still knew how to have fun. Wouldn't we all like to spend Saturday night at the "Love Shack"?

I must say, too, that I'm impressed with Fred Schneider's way with the "spoken word". Notice that he doesn't actually "sing".

I've got me a Chrysler that seats about TWENTY
So hurry up and bring your juke box MONEY

I remember there was a debate way back when about what exactly Kate Pierson was saying toward the end of the song. Because it's not real clear. But I think it was determined that she was saying, "Tin Roof. RUSTED" (in case you were wondering).


While we're all just dancing around, I thought I would add this one, from 1984.

KENNY LOGGINS - FOOTLOOSE


I have to admit, I never actually saw this movie. But the video looks nice. I guess it was about some hick town where Kevin Bacon wasn't allowed to dance. And I guess he REALLY wanted to dance. So, this tells me that the movie is pure fiction. Because did you ever know a guy who actually WANTED to dance? Somehow, I can't picture my husband "busting a move", you know? The last time we actually danced together was about 10 years ago, and it was sort of just shuffling around the floor. But in theory, I guess you could call it "dancing".

While we're on the subject of "Footloose", I found this fun video on YouTube of the cast of "The Office" (my favorite show, by the way), dancing and just basically being uncomfortable as usual, backed by Kenny Loggins' song.

THE OFFICE - FOOTLOOSE


I gotta say, kudos to nikki8907, whoever you are, for a GREAT editing job on this!


I can't let this opportunity go by without including this video from the 1987 movie, "Dirty Dancing".

This is one of my favorite movies (I guess it's a "chick thing" - I find that men don't have the same fondness for this movie that women do - for some strange reason).

BILL MEDLEY & JENNIFER WARNES - I'VE HAD THE TIME OF MY LIFE


"Nobody puts Baby in a corner."

I guess we'll close out the "dancing" portion of our show with this final video, by Lionel Richie:

ALL NIGHT LONG


Lionel had quite the career going in the eighties. Sadly, he's now only known as the father of one of those rich, spoiled kids. Ahh, how times change.


Now, on to some "non-dancing" videos.

Speaking of careers, here's another guy who did quite well for himself back then. I hear all these Chicago "purists" talk about how he basically ruined the band, blah, blah, blah. Hogwash. He's a great singer. And really, if it wasn't for Peter Cetera, Chicago would have dried up after "Saturday In The Park". No offense to Chicago.

PETER CETERA - THE GLORY OF LOVE (FROM "THE KARATE KID")


Speaking of great singers, to me, this is one of the greatest voices of all time in rock:

STEVE PERRY - OH, SHERRIE



While we're on the topic of great solo singers, here's one that I love:

PAUL YOUNG - EVERY TIME YOU GO AWAY


If you've never seen the movie, "Planes, Trains and Automobiles", please rent it or get it from your local library. Steve Martin, John Candy. It's a comic classic. A John Hughes movie. And this song is from that movie.


Another particular favorite of mine:

FOREIGNER - I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE IS



Again, like Peter Cetera, denigrate this singer all you want, but I bet you'd like his money, wouldn't you? Did he do every soundtrack from the eighties?

BRYAN ADAMS - HEAVEN



I think we'll close this out with a song that I really like. Duran Duran was a band that I didn't get into too much, but I think this is a really good song. I started to write about the connection this song has to a certain true crime book that I read many years ago, but then I thought, why spoil the vibe?

So, here's:

DURAN DURAN - HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF