I know I've said this several times before, but I really wonder who it was that thought mixing cheap synthesizers with heartfelt emotional songs was a good idea. Because this song isn't so bad, but some terrible choices were made in its construction.
And it's not like you can't make interesting music with synthesizers. Expose's own earlier song "Point of No Return" is a fine song and it has the same poundy drum and synthesized tones. But because it's more upbeat and poppy, it works in a way that the same synthesizers don't work here. Also, that blaring 80s saxophone is really overbearing here.
Lyrically, it's about the sadness of a relationship that hasn't stood the test of time. I sort of like the lyrics. Lines like "It's been so long since I found you yet it seems like yesterday" have a simple poetry to them. The singing is also pretty good. The lead singing and the backing harmonies try their hardest to convey the emotions expressed by the lyrics, but they just can't penetrate the thick wall of the synthesizer.
My verdict: Don't like it. The synthesizer is just too overbearing.
I'll always associate this song with an ad I saw once for reruns of Star Trek: The Next Generation, which played off the "I want to be your Number One" lyric in this song to promote a week of shows about Commander Riker. That ad cracked me up, but unfortunately it seems the Internet failed to document it for me to share here. Too bad.
I was going to start by commenting on the song's obvious reggae influence, until I discovered it's actually a cover of a song by a reggae band, the Paragons. Blondie seem to play up the reggae style of it a bit more, adding horns and crossing over into ska territory. And I like everything about it. The bass and drum lines are compelling, the horns are appealing, and the strings are used sparingly for accents late in the song.
What I particularly like is the chaotic, mixed percussion through the background. I've often put songs on a scale of relaxing verses energetic, but I think what I really like is intensity. Here's a song that has an overall relaxing tone without losing any intensity, and a big part of it is that the percussion keeps that intensity even when everything else is indicating relaxation.
And just when the song nears the end and threatens to get repetitive, Debbie Harry injects some weird intensity into her vocals to keep the variety coming. The weird intensity of vocals near the end really stands out, but I think it makes the song memorable, and keeps you on your toes, unsure when to expect it.
The lyrics aren't quite so great. It's mostly the same chorus over and over, and the chorus lyrics don't seem to mean much. "The tide is high" is a metaphor that doesn't really get explained. The line "I'm gonna be your number one" doesn't really explain what it means. I guess its meaning is obvious, but the phrase "number one" is so unusual that I'm not surprised someone latched onto it when making a Star Trek promo. And what few verse lyrics there are don't even rhyme, but they're close enough that it doesn't seem like a deliberate choice. "Every girl wants you to be her man. But I'll wait dear until it's my turn." Doesn't rhyme. Heck, the original lyric is "Every man wants you to be his girl. But I'll wait dear until it's my turn," and that doesn't rhyme any better.
My verdict: Like it. The lyrics are easy to ignore, and the overall sound is great.
Of course this song is famous for its misinterpretation as a love song. The conventional wisdom suggests it's a song about a stalker, but I don't really read that in the lyrics, either. I think it's more of a tormented break-up song. "Every move you make, and every vow you break, every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I'll be watching you." He's anguishing about how he wasn't ready to break up, and the complex feelings of both wanting to get back together while also lingering over all the bad times.
Musically, the song is very simple, with a really basic guitar and snare drum progression. There's not a lot of variation in the chorus, either, with just a little extra synthesized string coming in to the song. Sting's vocals are also pretty tame throughout most of the song. It's pretty tedious, actually. The good thing is that right in the middle of the song there's an excellent bridge that brings in a stronger guitar and a piano while Sting's vocals get very intense. It lasts less than 30 seconds, but it single-handedly injects just enough life into the song to keep it interesting. This section also includes the best, most turned-inward and self-aware lyrics in the song. "I look around but it's you I can't replace." Regardless of the fault he's casting at his ex through most of the rest of the song, this section admits his pwn failings, and it's wonderful to get that admission in the middle of the song.
My verdict: Like it. It's catchy, touching, and while it may be a little too subtle overall, it has a nice explosion of sound that saves it.
This song seems terribly miscalculated. I think the meaning is really supposed to be reflected by one of the later lyrics, "Get outta my mind, get into my life." That's what you say when you want to stop admiring someone from afar and pursue a real relationship with them.
Unfortunately, somewhere in the writing process the metaphor "Get outta my dreams, get into my car" came along. And the rest of the song was written around literalizing that metaphor as much as possible. Lyrics like "touch my bumper" and "lady driver" merge with car horn sounds and revving engines, and the result is a song that isn't serious enough to be meaningful, but doesn't quite reach the level of humorous novelty song, either. Also, what is meant by the line "get in the back seat, baby?" Is that still a metaphor, or have they abandoned all metaphorical pretensions and just tossed in a car reference for fun?
The overly bright horns and noisy percussion and synthesizer stings don't help much, either. This is a song locked into the sound of the late 80s, in a way that doesn't make much sense outside the context of 80s music. I don't care much for the female vocals, either. They seem unnecessary and designed to just complicate the sound. And then they can't even be consistent with their car metaphors, choosing to try something else with "Hey Cinderella, step in your shoe." You made the song about the car metaphor, you stick with it.
The whole "Touch my bumper [bumper]" moment is this song in a nutshell. I spent all my time listening to this song waiting for that line to repeat, because I just sort of dread how dumb that moment is, encapsulating everything that bugs me about this song.
My verdict: Don't like it. I really hope this song was written specifically for License To Drive, and that the car metaphor was written first. At least that's a commercial enterprise I can understand. Because if someone just thought the car metaphor was a good idea on an artistic level, that person was sorely mistaken.
This is a cover from the soundtrack to a movie about a singer who recorded a rock and roll version of a traditional dance song from Mexico. Is everybody clear on that?
The original rock and roll song was recorded by Ritchie Valens. I'm not sure whether I like his version more or not. It's more organic than this remake, so it has a bit more feeling, but it's also not nearly as tidy. Personally, I think I like the Los Lobos singer better, but I like most of the instruments in the Valens version better. Well, maybe not the wood block percussion. Mostly I just want to get rid of the irritating guitar solo from the Los Lobos version. Regardless of all of that, the bottom line is that this song has a catchy tune. It will get stuck in your head. I don't understand why they added an acoustic lead-out from the song, though. Was that to tie it back to its traditional roots? Maybe, but it feels like a whole different song.
I've always wondered what the lyrics to this song meant. I've always been a little irritated by how often this song loops back to "Baila la la la bamba." Although I didn't understand the lyrics, I got the sense that they were very repetitive. And now that I've found a translation, I see that I was pretty much right. But it's really not so bad, because the lyrics are basically "dance the bamba," where the bamba is a type of dance. Then it says "a little bit of grace is needed" and "and higher and higher." Basically the lyrics are just telling you to dance. I can't really complain that a dance song lacks meaningful lyrics. The meaning is in the dancing.
My verdict: Don't like it. I'm not sure I can offer a particularly eloquent explanation beyond that its style just doesn't connect with me. And I'm not quite willing to grant latitude to a song that's been made primarily to promote a movie. I might be more charitable with Ritchie Valens version, but that song didn't reach No. 1.
I spent a year imagining what review I would do for the first anniversary of my blog. I finally decided to just note the occasion and let the random number generator carry on. But apparently the random number generator felt the need to mark the milestone, too. So for review number 201, I randomly got tasked to review my second song by the very first artist I reviewed, Lionel Richie. I couldn't have found a better review topic if I'd come up with one intentionally.
On the other hand, I don't care for this song. It's just so slow and painfully earnest that I can't quite take it seriously. I think it's mostly the combination of the really soft and gentle piano and Richie's loudly-whispered vocals that really gets me. Then factor in the synthesized flute that plays throughout and I just avoid getting a creepy vibe from this song.
Not helping the creepy vibe is the lyrics. "I've been alone with you inside my mind. And in my dreams I've kissed your lips a thousand times." This isn't about love as much as it's about obsession. And it just goes on from there. There's something about the line "I long to see the sunlight in your hair" that gets me. It sounds like something a troll or vampire or other mythical creature that literally can't go out in sunlight would say to the object of their obsession. And then, even if I ignore all that, I'm left with the chorus "I want to tell you so much, I love you." Okay, so... why don't you? Seriously, what's stopping the singer of this song from telling the other person how he feels? The song doesn't even attempt an explanation. My best guess is plain old fear of rejection. So he writes a song that explores that fear of rejection without even the self-awareness to name it. He doesn't write a song explaining why he's in love with this person specifically. He clearly doesn't even know them very well: "I wonder where you are, and I wonder what you do." I suppose exploring this kind of obsession and a crippling fear of rejection is valid material for a song, but the fact that this seems to be intended as a love song makes it comes off creepy.
Which brings me back to the music, because the minor chords and synthesized, soft instruments just amplify the creepiness. This live rendition isn't nearly as creepy, because of increased use of natural instruments. The piano isn't as quiet, and Richie's voice isn't as whispery. It feels a bit more authentic and genuine.
My verdict: Don't like it. Even if I decided to ignore the intended message and tried to enjoy it as a song about obsession, the instrumentation just makes this song a chore to listen to, rather than fun.
This song is arguably the best example of rock music in the late 80s.
The music has it all, strong electric guitars, heavy but well-used synth keyboards, a poundy 80s drum that mixes well with the rest of the music, rocking bass, and sheer exuberant energy. The synths may date the song, but they work as a piece of the whole.
The vocals are also matched to the music just right. They have that defiant edge and enthusiastic energy that an 80s rock song needs to have. Jon Bon Jovi walks a line between singing and yelling, without ever crossing over the line and becoming screechy.
There aren't a lot of lyrics here. I think they were trying to spend as much time on the crowd-pleasing chorus and as little time as possible in the verses. The music doesn't suffer for it, but there aren't a lot of lyrics to analyze. The picture I get is the a guy in a complicated relationship with a lot of drama. "You promise me heaven but put me through hell." I suppose I've seen a lot of that sort of thing doing this list. But for once, I don't think this guy minds. "No one can save me, the damage is done." I think he finds it appealing. Certainly, that's what Jon Bon Jovi's tone of voice is telling me.
My verdict: Like it. If there's a more persuasive example of the value of late 80s rock, I haven't found it yet.
Wow. I guess it's superstar collaboration week this week. Today's article may have fewer stars than yesterday's, but their greater magnitude may make this collaboration even more significant. Too bad the result of that collaboration is so mediocre.
I guess it's not really that bad. I was disappointed the first time I listened to it. I guess I expected a collaboration between these two to be bigger and more significant. But after I listened a few times, I caught on to its appeal. A lot of song is a back and forth with McCartney and Jackson alternating verses. And while McCartney's part is disappointingly basic, Jackson's part is lively. This is just after his Thriller album, so he's in his prime here. And no matter how basic and simple the rest of the song is, Jackson saves it with his verses.
The music is an interesting melange of old-fashioned, with its harmonicas and brass, and dated 80s style, with its synthesized keyboard lead and bass. Overall, it's a decent effect, with the old and the new balancing out to create something with a timeless sound that could only have come from the early 80s, if that makes any sense. The only problem I have is that the song doesn't really have a traditional verse/chorus structure, so the music rarely feels like it's building to anything.
The lyrics are the pained rantings of unrequited love. "Go go go where you want, but don't leave me here forever." I'm not sure how it exactly makes sense with two singers. If we assume there's supposed to be one person telling this story, I have a hard time respecting his backbone. "Through the years" implies that this has gone on for a while now. Dude, she's not interested. Give it up and move on.
My verdict: Like it. I didn't like it the first time through, but repeat listens won me over. Nowhere near the best either of these guys can do, but not the worst, either. It's not a bad little listen.
Ahhhhh. Just when I'm on the verge of declaring some trope or another to be stupid and wonder why it's even a thing in popular music, along comes a song that reminds me why people thought it was good in the first place. And so it is with this song. It's a one-song lesson on the virtues of the saxophone in popular rock music.
I love the arrangement in this song. The guitars are perfectly balanced to provide interest during the verses, but they never detract from the vocals in the verse, or the saxophone in the chorus or bridge. I love the way the song builds to the chorus. I love the way the vocals and the saxophone alternately wail the chorus. I love the way the sound feels a little thin and light early on and builds into a fairly full sound by the end. This is a well-orchestrated song, from the use of the guitars, to the featured saxophone, to the drums that provide a little extra interesting variety at surprising moments throughout.
The lyrics seem to be the paranoid worries of a shut-in. He's not sure who is at the door, and wants to be quiet until the person goes away. As far as I can tell, the song was written as just a goofy, silly idea, rather than a genuine exploration of mental breakdown. It certainly works on that level. Lines like "If he hears, he'll knock all day. I'll be trapped, and here I'll have to stay," provide a funny idea of a guy who is scared of everything.
My verdict: Like it. It's a well-put-together song that makes me remember why saxophones are cool.
I'm torn on this song. I love Cyndi Lauper's voice here, but there are some bad choices in the backing music that undermine the emotional impact of her voice.
Cyndi Lauper's voice has a particular quality to it that is just appealing. It's when she hits the top of her energy and really lets loose, as she does in the chorus here, that I enjoy her the most. And she builds it up as the song goes along, so that the last chorus is way bigger than the first chorus was. More songs needs that kind of buildup and release. I think any song would be improved by making sure the last chorus is bigger than the first chorus. Or possibly doing the opposite if there's a particular artistic reason for it. At any rate, I think this is probably the finest vocal performance of a singer with a uniquely appealing style.
The music has a lot of problems, though. The 80s are doing their best to undermine a good song here. Almost all the music is done on weak, sad synthesizers. The artificiality sucks a lot of the genuine emotion out of it. The bongo drums probably seemed like a good choice for light percussion, but they actually wind up sort of overwhelming the weak synthesizers during the verse. The bongos work better in the chorus when Lauper's voice can outpower them. I don't understand the choice to end the song by repeating the bongo beat from the beginning. Are they trying to suggest the song is going to start over again? It's a weak choice for an ending. At best, I can infer from the video that the artificial surreality of the song is intentional, but I'm just not sure it works to make the song as low-key and subtle as was intended.
The lyrics are excellent. There are lots of songs that send a message to be comfortable with who you are, no matter how much you feel like you don't fit in, but this one is a bit unique. The singer of this song is declaring that they love you for who you are, not who you pretend to be. Even if you still feel the need to pretend, it's okay, the singer just wants you to know that they love you either way. It's a really good message for anyone who has ever felt like a misfit, and it's a great song to dedicate to a friend who is having a hard time.
My verdict: Like it. The music still isn't very good, but the song is more about the vocal performance and the lyrics. It's possible to find some good live performances that replace the 80s synthesizers with more acoustic instruments, and you can see the true strength of the song.
This is almost a demonstration piece of some of the worst tropes of 1980s music. And they all combine in a way that isn't awful, but isn't very appealing, either.
The song opens with that ill-advised synthesizer bit. This is one of the worst ways possible to use a synthesizer. It's so quiet and weak. I think it's trying to be subtle, and that's just the worst possible way to use your synthesizer. A good synthesizer needs to be bold and obvious. This one sounds like it's trying to pass as a woodwind chorus, and it's just painful.
Then there's that 80s poundy drum. Why was this so pervasive in the 80s, and why haven't I heard it in any other era? Did it just get better-integrated into music after the 80s? It's really starting to bug me.
Next up is a blaring, rambling lead guitar. It lacks both tight musicianship and the energy that comes from improvised performance. I do like the boldness of the guitar, and it fills space nicely during some of the transitions.
Then there's the lead singer's super-gravelly, almost toneless voice. Are gravelly-voiced singers a 1980s trope, or do they transcend the era? I feel like I know more singers like that from the 80s, but perhaps they just stood out more. Gravelly voices aren't very interesting, so it's critical when they are used for the music to be interesting. And when the music is this bland, it just doesn't work right.
What are the lyrics? "Her diary sits on a bedside table. The curtains are closed, the cats in the cradle." Oh no, it's random poetry. There's really no story, and if there is any meaning I'm not going to figure it out. Thank goodness, Songfacts has tracked down an admission from the lead singer that he wrote the song about getting back together for a one-night stand with an ex, and the confusing emotions it caused. I can see that. "I keep looking for something I can't get" actually means something in that context. So I suppose some credit is due the song for successfully confusing me.
My verdict: Don't like it. It's dark, poorly orchestrated, and feels derivative of other 80s music, using the tropes but not knowing how to use them right.
I wasn't even thinking about this song when I reviewed "Separate Lives" ( #585) and said "Phil Collins does a fine job making rock music most of the time, and he's got a decent voice for that, but he's not a particularly talented singer when it comes to singing over minimal music." But that sentence may apply even more strongly to this song.
Where to even start with this thing? Well, I'll start with the title. "Groovy Kind Of Love" sounds more like a song from the 1960s, and it is. The Mindbenders took it to number 2 in the mid-60s. Their version isn't exactly mindbending (ha!), but it has its charm. It sounds like the 60s, so its concept of "a groovy kind of love" doesn't seem incongruous. But Phil Collins's version doesn't sound anything like the 60s. It's mired neck-deep in the sound of the 80s, with the overly genuine synthesizer keyboard trying to make some kind of emotional impact, and that poundy drum undermining everything. I think it's also going for a cinematic sound with its backing orchestra, since the song was recorded for a movie (called Buster, which starred Phil Collins, and for some reason I've never heard of it). This song is trying so hard to be genuine and heartfelt, but it feels so fake.
A better singer might have rescued this song, but Phil Collins isn't that better singer. I don't know if they're running his voice through a terrible filter or what, but somehow he always sounds processed and Auto-tuned, even though this was long before Auto-tune was a thing. His performance is just underwhelming and doesn't convey the emotion I think he's trying to convey. These soft love songs are not his strength as a performer, and I wish he'd stop doing them.
The thing that shocks me about the lyrics is that the song is essentially a happy, sweet song. It's about how the singer is happy to be with the person they love. And that's a fine sentiment. Other than finding the choice of "a groovy kind of love" too specific to the 1960s, I can't find many problems with the lyrics. But Phil Collins sounds so sad singing this song that I'm shocked to realize the song isn't actually sad. It's like he latched on to the first lyrics, "When I'm feeling blue, all I have to do is take a look at you, then I'm not so blue," and made the song sad. Although the interpretation isn't supported by the lyrics, the music makes me believe Phil Collins is sad because his relationship has ended, and now he no longer has any reason to be happy. It's a bummer, and it's not an emotional resonant bummer, so I don't particularly care for it.
My verdict: Don't like it. Phil Collins is good at many things, but he's bad at sad love songs.
Huey Lewis and the News are an underrated musical act in my opinion. There's something appealing about their style of pop/rock music. It's very fundamental and straightforward without being boring. It's also generally very bright and cheery, and fun.
This is one of the most relaxed and slow-tempo Huey Lewis songs that I know of, but somehow that just makes it more cheery and happy. That organ that accents the song really brings the mood up, but the bright drum and strummy guitar accents also help. Huey Lewis's voice sounds like he's singing through a smile. And even the backup singers sound bright and happy. The soundscape is well filled without getting crowded and full of extraneous instruments. I really enjoy the organ solo in the bridge, too. I can't really find much to criticize in the music. It's a pleasant, fun little song that is orchestrated perfectly.
"We are bound by all the rest. Like the same phone number, all the same friends, and the same address." This couple is saying they stay together because breaking up would be too much effort. And that sentiment could come across as the jaded, bitter rantings of someone whose relationship is over. But the chorus is "I'm so happy to be stuck with you." So it really comes across more as the kind of joke old married people tell when in truth, they wouldn't have it any other way. It's corny, and kind of a dumb idea for a song, but on the other hand it's not like any other song sentiment I've heard so far. Plus, Huey Lewis's voice is just happy enough to sell this concept.
My verdict: Like it. It just feels like a happy song, even if it's a little bit corny.
I'm a little torn on this song. On the one hand, it's fun and energetic enough. On the other hand, it has a lot of little moments I don't care for, and Janet Jackson has a lot of better songs, even if the charts don't necessarily reflect my opinion of their quality. I mean, this is from the same album as "Control," "Nasty," and "What Have You Done For Me Lately," but out of all those this is the only one that reached No. 1, even though it's easily the most forgettable of the set.
The song is perfectly enjoyable and through the first and second verses and both of those choruses. This song does a lot to justify many of the tropes of the 80s that I've complained about before. That 80s poundy drum correctly captures the intended bold energy. That matches the synthesized horn stings, which sound different enough from real horns to create an intriguing sound. The bass is simple but appealing enough. Janet Jackson's light voice is appealing and floats pleasantly in a layer of sound above the appealing background. The song gets off to a good start and seems to be building to a big musical payoff in the bridge.
Unfortunately, the bridge is where the song falls apart. Rather than getting bigger and more impressive, the bridge is full of studio tricks and very little sound. The section of bongo drums and weird grunts just isn't that appealing. The part where they add an echo to "when I think of you [you you you you]" is one of those things that just comes off insincere. And that conflicts with Jackson's spoken "when I think of you," which sounds very sincere, except in the context in which it's presented.
The lyrics are simple, and they're fine, but they're not very deep. When she feels bad, she thinks about her love, and she feels better. There's no odd phrases to mock, but there's not really anything all that clever to praise. The lyrics are ultimately pretty neutral. Except for the part in the bridge where she says "Bass" just before there's a small bass solo. That's one of those things that only works in a band where the singer calls attention to the guitar player who is also a member of the band, and even then it only really works live. A solo artist calling attention to the anonymous studio musician who did her bass line is just odd.
Also, the background singers doing the "So in love" lyric sing it in an overly staccato way that makes it sound like they're singing something else. For years I thought the lyric was something like "Sovinfur," and I wondered what that word meant.
My verdict: Don't like it. It starts off strong, but gets weird at the halfway point. And Janet Jackson has way better songs than this, even if some of her best aren't represented on this list.
This is easily one of the greatest breakup songs there is. It expertly captures most of the complicated emotions that swirl around after a breakup and delivers them in a highly appealing package. This is good stuff, and if you have never listened to this song while wistfully thinking about that certain someone, then congratulations on having been in a continuous happy relationship since 1984.
The lyrics do a wonderful job capturing all those feelings. There's regret: "And I'm still standing here and you're miles away, and I'm wondering why you left." There's the memory of happiness: "I hear your name in certain circles and it always makes me smile." Self pity: "You don't know how desperate I've become." Raw pain: "It's my heart that's breaking down this long-distance line tonight." And then my favorite part, the weak declaration of being over it that is easily confused for the real thing: "I ain't missing you, I can lie to myself." On top of that, there's some nice poetic imagery I enjoy, especially "There's a message that I'm sending out like a telegraph to your soul." Sometimes in this situation, all you can do is beam out psychic thoughts and weakly hope that solves the problem. I like the way that captures the powerlessness of the situation.
The music plays right on the hairy edge of being a cheesy synth-heavy 80s song. There is certainly ample synthesizer use. There is also that poundy 80s drum. The song could easily have been a really weak, wimpy, sad song like so many other sad 80s songs. However, there is an admirable restraint in the use of such elements, and an admirable use of genuine guitars. The bass guitar throughout is a good thing to be sure. But the song's strongest moments come from the chorus, when the lead guitar picks up and blares. It's just retrained enough to not conflict with the sad theme, but within that limitation it's an ear-catching guitar tone. Whoever mixed this song did so very, very carefully and got it exactly right. I spent some time looking for a punk or rock cover that might amp up the guitar a bit to see how well that worked, but I guess no one out there thought it would work very well, because I couldn't find one. At any rate, the music here manages to capture that 80s sound without feeling dated and regrettable the way other 80s songs can be.
My verdict: Like it. One of the best of the decade, and a great song to have around to get through a rough patch.
Here is a song that really puts synthesizers to their test. I've complained about songs from the late 70s and 80s using synthesizers as a cheap alternative to real instruments, and the songs sound cheap because of them. Songs in the late 90s and 2000s seem to have figured out that synthesizers are best used boldly, to create unique sounds that natural instruments just can't make. This song seems determined to take the good synthesizer and the bad synthesizer and mix them together in the same song.
I like a lot of what's happening in this song. The fake-string synthesizer track that leads off the song works pretty well. It creates a sort of surreal environment for the rest of the song to operate in. It's sort of like listening to a string section through an aural fog. Since the song is about London, that feels appropriate. The bass line is also pretty good. It's not kidding around about being a synthesizer, and that works to the song's benefit. I think the bass would be better if it sustained more notes, but it's okay as it is. Unfortunately, somewhere around the bridge, some odd choices get made. The synthesized chorus is never a good idea, but its gets put front and center for a bit here, and the song suffers for it. There's also a muted trumpet sound around the bridge that is just terrible. Maybe it's supposed to sound like car horns honking in traffic, but it's too good an imitation, and not musical at all.
There's also a terrible "dit-dit-dit" breaking news sound that follows every iteration of the verse that began to grate my nerves. Yes, the song probably needs some sound there, but I don't think they picked the right one. The drums also sounds very fake, and there is almost never a time when artificial drums are the right answer. The best you can hope for with a drum kit is that it'll go undetected.
Overall, there's not a lot of variety of sound in this song, either. It doesn't change very much from chorus to verse, and at the end it just sort of fades away, rather than feeling like it reached anything like a conclusion
I think I need a little metaphor help to decipher the lyrics. Now, I know that London's West End is upscale and ritzy and the East End is lower-class. So at first glance, with lines like "East End boys and West End girls," it seems the song is lyrically trying to copy Billy Joel's "Uptown Girl." But while that song seems to be about love despite social class difference, this song doesn't seem to be about that at all. Is it about casual hookups? If so, what's that first verse about? "Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables in a a restaurant in a west end town." The second verse makes vague allusion to someone selling something "How much have you got?" But is it sex? Drugs?
My best guess, based on reading the lyrics several times, is that maybe it's about the low-class elements that hide in an upper-class town. Drugs, prostitution, robbery, and so on, that lurk underneath the fancy veneer of a high-class neighborhood.
My verdict: Don't like it. There's some good stuff going on here, but the overall sound hasn't aged well and sounds cheap.
All right, I think I've finally found a song in the 1980s that isn't trying to sneak a synthesizer into a song where it doesn't belong. This song is all synthesizers, and the effect is clearly deliberate. The result is a kind of charming, bright sound that is sort of appealing. Certainly music eventually figured out how to use synthesizers properly, and I'm glad to find such an early example.
Unfortunately, there's a lot to dislike here, too. The overall sound is quite thin. A little heavier bass and some more sustained tones might have helped create a more compelling overall sound. The drum machine feels robotic, too, which I think is a miscalculation. It makes it feel like a karaoke song.
Deniece Williams's voice is a bit hard to take. She's very whiny. Although, there's a part at the end where she really aims for a high note and hits it, presaging Mariah Carey's signature, that suggests to me that she really can sing. Wikipedia notes that she "has a five-octave range." That seems likely, but she's not really putting it to proper use in this song. I don't know if it's that she's outside her best range or if it's just the style of music she's doing, but her voice is pretty obnoxious throughout most of this song. I'm sure she's very talented, but she's not putting her talent to good use here.
The lyrics are fine. The sentiment is that she loves the guy she's with even though he has flaws. Nothing wrong with that. I can't really find fault with the lyrics, and really, they're pretty energizing. Hooray for love that's pleasant and happy.
This is one of those songs that bugs me by continuing on well after it's actually ended. After she sings that opera note, the song really ought to start its fade out right away, but the video I linked continues on for almost a minute more. It doesn't add anything to a song that's already pretty repetitive.
My verdict: Don't like it. This is a junk food song. It's pleasing enough the first time through, but the more I listen to it, the more it starts to bother me. Insubstantial pop songs can and should be better and not make me regret them before they're over.
I sort of liked Chicago in the 80s. I thought their music was emotional and appealing. But now I find their music just kind of emotionally manipulative. It's like it's been carefully calculated to be as heart-wrenching as possible, without necessarily earning it via any genuine sentiment.
I think the lyrics of this song illustrate exactly what I'm talking about. "If you see me walking by, and the tears are in my eyes, look away." It's supposed to be a sad image, of a man crying over lost love. But the lyric itself seems to suggest that he's just going to be walking around bawling, possibly for years afterward. It's kind of paints a funny image.
The verses of this song aren't so bad. It's the story of your ex moving on and how that kind of put a finality to the relationship that you had sort of held out a glimmer of hope for. The lyrics in the verses are at least clear about the story they're telling, and the sentiments expressed feel genuine enough. "I tell you I'm fine, but sometimes I just pretend." It's the chorus where things get absurd and overdramatic. "Don't look at me. I don't want you to see me this way." Here I am, singing a sad song about how I don't want you to see me feeling sad. Aren't guys who don't want attention all cool and sexy? Pay attention to me saying that I don't want you to pay attention to me!
Musically, this is a pretty egregious example of the excesses of the late 80s. There are a lot of synthesizers put to bad use here. Synthesizers are not good at gentle music, 80s. Then on top of that is that blaring guitar that always gets used in Diane Warren songs. Yes, this is another song from Diane Warren. Cheesy schmaltz with blaring guitars. I'm not even sure if the drums here are real or a drum machine.
With all the fake instruments, the emotional heavy lifting has to be done by the guitars, which do an okay job in that 80s power ballad kind of way, and the vocals. This after Peter Cetera left the band, so at least we don't have to confront the question of his quality just now. This lead singer is Bill Champlin. He does an okay job, his voice is pleasant enough. But he does have that kind of trite, gravelly intonation that was so popular in the era. He also kind of overdoes it in the last chorus, reaching back and coming up with some really growly vocals. He also sounds really, overly, kind of cartoonishly sad in the last lyrics "I'm really happy for you." It sounds like he's about to turn away from the microphone and start bawling, and it's kind of unintentionally funny.
My verdict: Don't like it. Even back when I liked Chicago, I didn't care much about this song. These days it seems kind of typical of many fake-emotional songs of the time.
Billy Joel made a few of these throwback songs in the early 80s, including this song and "Uptown Girl." In this case, I think he did a pretty good job mimicking that early 60s sound. But since I'm also reviewing songs originally from that era, I don't think I can give it credit for the accuracy of of its mimicry, only the song's own quality.
Now, these Billy Joel throwback songs aren't my favorite Billy Joel songs, but I can't deny that this song is really catchy. The brass and sax and drums and bass all combine for a really compelling sound. The percussion, dominated by tambourine, is carefully mixed to sound like a crowd clapping along to the beat, and that helps gives the song that compelling crowd energy that makes it feel like a fun time. I feel like I've been down on saxophones in rock music lately, but this song is an example of how to do it right. The saxophone and brass aren't allowed to dominate, or featured in an awkward, out of place solo. Ultimately, this song's success may be a success of mixing, using every instrument appropriately.
Billy Joel's voice is compelling here, with a good mix of intensity and suave coolness. I do think there are some weird, sudden shifts in the tone of his voice from casual to shout-y, especially toward the end of the song when he shifts into the last iteration of the chorus. It feels like a weird edit. Maybe it's edited down from the full-length song, or maybe this is the complete song and this is just it was edited from the source tracks. It's a weird production glitch, but it doesn't ruin the song or anything.
The lyrics come across as relationship advice from "a man who's made mistakes." It's about communicating with your significant other, telling them they are important to you, and not letting them think you take them for granted. "You'll never let her go, but that's just the kind of thing she ought to know." Overall, it's pretty good advice, and I like the perspective of relationship advice from someone who has a failed relationship, but has learned from the experience and hasn't grown bitter about it.
The one lyrical oddity that has often obscured the meaning of this song for me is "But a nice girl wouldn't tell you what you should do." After examining the lyrics, I think this is supposed to be the listener's thought. He's objecting to the girl he dating telling him what he should do. And Billy Joel is advising him to communicate that with her, rather than letting resentment ruin the relationship. I don't think this part is contextualized appropriately to make the meaning clear, but if it's supposed to be Billy Joel expressing that opinion, it seems to run counter to everything else he's saying in the song.
My verdict: Like it. It's not of my favorite Billy Joel songs, but I do like the overall lyrical sentiment, and the music is too catchy to be resisted.
I think it's interesting to have this song follow right after "Frankenstein" (#295), because they're actually pretty similar in a lot of ways. Both songs have somewhat traditional components, but then there's a percussion-only intermission in the middle followed by some experimental, weird sounds. And yet this song makes it work.
I think the primary reason it works so well is that there's a stronger through-line in this song. The percussion breakdown maintains a similar beat from earlier in the song. The vocals continue sporadically, and connect the song's beginning to its end. The percussion intermission doesn't feel like it lasts nearly as long. It's not that the intermission in this song is any less experimental and odd, it just doesn't seem quite so out of place, nor so aggressive and unpleasant.
This song has two points to recommend it most strongly: the excellent bass line, which stands out and uniquely identifies the song within the first three seconds, and Freddie Mercury's vocals. Mercury is, in my opinion, the best male vocalist who ever worked in rock and roll music. He had a big range and no fear. He sang boldly and highly and intensely, and this song is one of the finer examples of what he could do. The only bad Freddie Mercury song is one where he fails to explore his range, and this is not one of those songs.
One thing that makes this song unique is its restraint with the lead guitar. It comes in and provides occasional accents, but generally it lets the bass guitar carry the song. The odd sound effects scattered throughout are somewhat less successful, and keep the song from getting my unreserved recommendation. It's possible the song might be too repetitive without them, but the lead guitar could have carried that on its own, I think. I'm not sure if the simulated gunfire sound during the lyric "out of the doorway the bullets rip" is clever or silly, but it's certainly attention-getting.
I'm not sure if I've ever really understood the lyrics. On the surface, it seems to be about a street thug gunning down his opponents. He's lamenting the life that brought him here, including the unspecified person who kicked him out of his home, and the song seems to end with him being shot himself due to his dangerous lifestyle. On that level, I guess it works an interesting story, but it's quite dark for a pop song. Some quick research doesn't seem to advocate any alternate interpretations. That really is what it's about. I think it's interesting to learn that Queen supposedly released this as a single because Michael Jackson suggested it to them, because I was thinking the lyrics reminded me most of "Beat It" (#532). Similar songs about street thugs that don't necessarily advocate street thuggery. I saw hints that maybe this song was describing a cowboy, and I can see that interpretation, although to my mind, the music suggests wet streets and back alleys in a 20th-century city.
My verdict: Like it. The bass line and Freddie Mercury's voice are both too great to let any of the small problems I have with the song take over.
