GAH.
First off, my terrible insomnia problem strikes yet again. After spending nearly an hour trying to fall asleep, I took out my iPod and picked a random song to listen to. Having loaded up the RetroActive 5 compilation because of its Seona Dancing, Strange Advance, Blancmange, and Psychedelic Furs remix components, I was surprised to find my iPod start to play one of the songs off the compilation I had never heard before: "The Picture" by Hubert Kah. I had never even heard of Hubert Kah before, but it sounded European so I figured, eh, it should be good for a trial.
This is one of those kinds of songs I obsess over. It happens every now and again -- one of the more recent and memorable occasions happened when I latched so strongly onto "Alles Klar" by Ultravox that I could not get enough of it, even after playing it some 25 times in a row on two separate occasions, in as many days. I committed myself to learning every nuance, every corner, ever nook and cranny of that wonderful, haunting instrumental. Eventually I got my fill, but not without playing it some 100 times in a one-week span. "The Picture" has that very quality.
First off, I will admit to having my weak points. Icy cold synth lines? Check. Minimalist bass sound? Check. Delicate yet highly urgent staccato rhythm that evokes a sort of Italo disco influence/sound? Check. Very Continental European breathy synth-dance male vocals? Check. "The Picture" has all of the above. "The Picture" evokes nearly all of my weaknesses. It even makes good use of a church bell sound effect that also evokes a cold Europeanness to the track's overall atmosphere, that makes it even that much more appealing to me. Even the rock guitar solo toward the middle of the song, something I don't generally go for, has a sort of detached passivity in its very being that makes it not so much a macho act but rather something that helps drive the song along.
I was roused enough by this song to jump out of bed and do a quick Google search for more information, where I found my European suspicious confirmed. Hubert Kah were apparently a German synth group that existed as recently as the late '90s, though I didn't really check too close to see when their latest recordings were released. The band released the original track from whence "The Picture" sprung forth, "Wenn Der Mond Die Sonne", in 1984, and I imagine "The Picture" was released not long after that. And -- oh, the shame -- it (the English-language version of the song) even appeared on the soundtrack of the critically-panned (for good reason, I've been reliably told) mid '80s flick Once Bitten. What is it with crap mid '80s movies and great songs therein? No one can honestly say that the Rodney Dangerfield vehicle Back To School was good even as a "so bad it's brilliant" type movie, yet its soundtrack featured the utterly breathtakingly great "Dead Man's Party" by Oingo Boingo.
As of yet I still really don't know all that much about Hubert Kah except that the band members were German, their producer and "arranger" (don't know what exactly that means) was from Bucharest, Romania (yay Romanians!), they wrote songs for other people, presumably German pop stars, and the great majority of their output was written in German, as befit their target demographic and largest audience. Unlike their fellow Germans in Alphaville, they apparently either had no real designs for the international, English-speaking marketplace, or their music (this would be sad if it were true) didn't take off and they ended up retreating back to their German roots.
Oh well then. The damage has been done. I am swooningly in love with YET ANOTHER SONG and I will have to play this song at least 100 times this week before I get my fill, I'm sure. And now I know I can't sleep. I have to listen to this song some more. It's gripping me so very tightly and pulling me away from my slumber and into its hypnotic vortex. This is how it all gets started, people.
Edit: OH MY GOD this track features the LINN DRUM. THE LINN DRUM, people, the synth drum that delivered that oh-so-'80s percussion sound that I ADORE. And the rhythm isn't so much staccato-ish on the surface as it is, um, restrained. But there IS a rhythmic synth sound that lays sorta in the background that IS staccato-ish, that does provide the track with some of its danceable drive and energy. But -- THE LINN DRUM! I wonder now if the synths on this track are Fairlights. They could be. OMG what if they are?? Especially if the synths were Fairlight CMIs. Then I'd know for sure it was destiny that I fell in love with this track. Either that or that I was awfully predictable. Heh.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Strange Advance And The Prog vs. Glam Debate
Remind me to go more into depth with that last blog post. I feel there are still major holes that need to be paved over in order for me to be able to fully flesh out the message/manifesto I was trying to convey.
Anyway.
A couple of blog posts back, I mentioned some Canadian New Wave artists whom I felt either deserved a critical re-examination or who were great fun to listen to. One of the ones I lumped into the former category was this group called Strange Advance, out of Vancouver. Formed by Darryl Kromm and Drew Arnott in 1981 from the ashes of a project the two veteran musicians (since 1974 at least) had also been a part of, the band's life span was, like an unstable isotope, quick but with an almost violent energy. Their popularity skyrocketed in Canada from 1983 - 1985 before screeching to a halt and taking a very noticeable nosedive. Interestingly enough, the band suffered a temporary but poignant setback at the beginning of that run when Kromm's father suddenly passed away, and two of the musicians involved with the group drifted away to form their own group, Images In Vogue (hence the artsy subtlety evidenced in both groups).
Before I had heard a single Strange Advance song, back when I was finding out about "obscure" New Wave artists, I saw an article where the group was described as being "a mixture of prog and New Wave". This temporarily put me off wanting to listen to any of their music because I have never been particularly enamored with the prog rock genre. To me it consists of nothing more than an endless array of noodling and instrumentation that goes absolutely nowhere. Think of Boston as your archetypical prog rock group; their recordings lasted seven minutes long on average, and they were noted for extremely lengthy instrumental solos during their live performances. I quickly grow impatient with that kind of meandering nonsense and am very wary of any artist that claims to be even remotely prog. But then I eventually found myself listening to one of their songs ("Love Games") and realized something -- their music wasn't prog at all.
See, I found that Strange Advance performed music that was highly orchestrated, that reached into the stratosphere. Meaning its roots were not in prog but in another rock music phenomenon of the '70s, glam rock. Indeed, "Love Games" is filled to the brim with the indelible influence of David Bowie. "World's Away", their big instrumental, wouldn't sound out of place in a sea of Roxy Music songs. "Home Of The Brave" owes its melodramatic atmosphere to Queen. And some of the guitar lines in some of Strange Advance's rockier songs owe an obvious debt of gratitude to Slade. Indeed, this would fit in with the group's general musical trajectory, coming as it does from a time and a place where glam was king.
I wrote down some notes for this entry at work during lunch and at that time one phrase stuck in my head: "orchestral euphoria". I deduced that that was the key musical difference between glam rock and prog rock. Glam was self-indulgent without being selfish; the musicians might have been having fun building ladders in the sky with gossamer and lace, but at least they did it so they could take the listener on a trip up to the heavens. On the other hand, prog rock floated up high above the earth just to showcase the supposed musicianship of the person playing the instrument. These people sought to be worshipped by the peons down below. And that's where "orchestral euphoria" comes in. See, Queen could be a good example of "orchestral euphoria": multilayered, almost symphonic musical compositions that sought to lift the music listener's spirits. Witness the residual feeling of sheer delight one gets from listening to a Queen song. Then contrast that feeling to the feeling one gets after listening to too much classic rock radio, filled as it is with endless marathons of prog musicians who composed complex instrument lines purely as a method of metaphorical dick-waving, with their instrument used as an extension of their manhood.
Which brings me back to Strange Advance. Their songs don't carry the mark of musicians who are engaged in a battle of "mine's bigger/better than yours" but rather hints of that "orchestral euphoria" mentioned above. Even their most OTT song, "I'll Be The One To Cry", tries so very hard to take the listener along for its magic carpet ride. That is why I feel that it is incorrect to label Strange Advance, or indeed any musical artist who could be credibly slotted into the New Wave category, as being even remotely related to prog. Strange Advance is an example of glam rock meets New Wave, of Ziggy Stardust communicating with Blondie and Elvis Costello and coming up with a formula that works. Tell Major Tom it's okay.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
My Music Theory: Pop Culture, Disenfranchisement, and New Pop
I have been avoiding this blog recently. After recovering from a particularly difficult few days at last week's end and after finding nothing particularly worth mentioning, it's been a challenge trying to figure out what the next topic of discussion would be. So my task to you is to do some brainstorming: What do you like from the world of New Pop/synthpop? What '80s fashions do you find yourself missing? Any '80s TV/movies fill you with a sense of hope and wonder and excitement (or at least provide you with some substantive thrills)? Pls to mention them here kthx.
Another thing I've been thinking of, and this one's a general one: In times of deepest turmoil, the popular culture often becomes more exciting, more revolutionary, more original. Think of the first British Invasion. The artists and musicians involved in that scene were born at the height of World War II during the Blitz and other bombing campaigns directly targeting the U.K., and spent most of their childhoods living through a period of rationing that didn't end in Britain until ca. 1956. The period of rebuilding after the war likely took longer. So when these children of the destruction heard the barebones workings of primitive early rock & roll, they took that sound and turned it into something catchier, more refined, and poppier, as a subconscious attempt at reworking an immature sound into something more grown-up.
Fast-forward a couple of decades and witness the participants in the so-called Second British Invasion. At the time these artists were recording music, their government was ensnarled in the Falklands conflicts, their economy was in a deep recession, everyone feared the results of a mega-clash between the two sides of the Cold War, and people routinely had nightmares about nuclear strikes wiping out the planet. So in one of the most rebellious statements ever made, these artists combined elements of post-punk, classic New Wave, '60s pop, disco, and funk, and blended them all together to craft a sound that was poppy, peppy, and full of energy. It did not dare mess around by meandering about -- it was straight to the point. Showoffs and musical wankery were both despised and reviled, and bland, naive statements of "we can change the world!" were replaced by oblique lyrics full of imagery as the artists thumbed their noses at easy solutions to difficult times. They figured: Why the hell try to change things when they can only ever be unchangeable? We will choose to live out our days here with as much zeal and gusto as we can, and we will never let the difficult times get to us. Witness the quote from Simon Le Bon -- "We want to be the band that people dance to as the bomb drops." Detractors might view this as nihilism at its most obnoxious, but a realist can and should only view this as the only proper way to go.
Contrast the above with times of relative peace and prosperity, particularly in America, when global issues didn't really start to hit home until the late 1970s. Early '70s American radio played never-ending marathons of the Captain and Tenille, Loggins and Messina, Cat Stevens, Al Stewart, and other artists who were safe, bland, anonymous, dispassionate, almost bucolic. In the mid '70s the arena rocker ruled American airwaves, their musical wankery and pomposity matching the free-wheeling, bombastic spirit of the Me Generation at its selfish and self-centered prime. The soundtrack to the movie FM showcases the worst collaboration between the two aforementioned periods of popular American music, at a time when the only positive American contribution to popular music from 1970 to the present, disco music, was already utilizing the exciting advances in musical technology. In other words, they were quick to welcome the synth.
Disco music is, in fact, the exception that proves the rule. A musical genre whose target audience involved the disenfranchised in American society -- gays and lesbians, transgendered people, racial and ethnic minorities, and women -- its pulsating rhythms and willingness to lead the listener/dancer into a state of oblivion provided a revolutionary wake-up call to groups of individuals who were accustomed to living life on the periphery. The dance floor became a target for pent-up energy and frustration, and it allowed these people to join in with a global community of dancers, artists, and other fabulous people, who all feasted upon the ferocious energy boost that disco gave them. By the end of the 1970s, all of these groups sublimated disco into their consciousness and, though circumstances forced disco to remain underground in the U.S., it never really died off.
The aforementioned circumstances involved anti-disco chants and rants that were more often than not mere window dressings for bigoted thought processes that resided below the surface of the obnoxious young, Caucasian, suburban males who shouted "Death to disco." A few years later, these same men, all grown up and now a part of the power structure in America, targeted the premier element of the Second British Invasion, New Pop (synthpop), and hissed stereotyped and vaguely homophobic remarks in an (eventually successful) effort to wipe the American popular music slate clean of these artists who dared to challenge the dominant musical paradigm. Tying this all back to the original theory, New Pop helped provide entertainment for another group that was effectively disenfranchised in the early to mid '80s -- young teenaged girls. It is telling that only one filmmaker throughout this time spoke the teenaged girls' lexicon: John Hughes, who also made movies for teenaged boys (but with an enlightened spirit that did not objectify the girls therein). These girls, who were also continually frightened by the thought of nuclear war and who were hearing in the news stories of this relatively new phenomenon called "global terrorism", whose main target happened to be U.S. interests, sought New Pop for the same reasons that the men and the women out on the dance floor ca. 1977 sought out disco.
So I suppose, having said all that, that it's no surprise that I too would get wrapped up in New Pop. Since its original purpose was to provide an outlet for young women whose voices weren't being heard or represented in the mainstream, it fits with my own life story. As an American Latina who "came of age" in the 1990s, I can recall not seeing anything in the media that told my own story. The only members of "la raza" who took part in mass media were still the bit players -- the key grips, the best boys, the carpenters, and the like. I cannot recall a single TV or movie star throughout the whole of that decade who looked like me or a member of my family. The music of that time period also did not speak for me. Alternative rock was for the white kids in the suburbs (though as someone who tried so very hard to be white, I did do a good job of mimicking interest in the genre). Rap and hip-hop were for African Americans, whose voices were being heard loud and clear. Dance took on a European flair but quickly became mired in its own repetitiveness; it was more for the drugged-up dancers than for any music listener. Country? I don't think so. So my music-seeking ears picked up very quickly on a genre that had already proven itself to be an effective voice for those without one, and I almost immediately fell in love with New Pop. The highly tailored androgyny spoke well to me in a time when the popular young male pop cultural figures appeared slovenly and full of machismo, and the thoughtful artsiness of the video clips held up very well when compared to the banal performance clips that filled '90s music video television programming.
But I'm going to have to think about this theory of mine some more. I don't know if it's fully fleshed out enough. It does appear to solve a lot of puzzles, though. And I'm hoping that maybe, if it does work out, it will go far in explaining why it is I was drawn to what I was drawn to, even though I've been told for fifteen years that I'm not "supposed" to be drawn to it, either for popularity or critical reasons.
Another thing I've been thinking of, and this one's a general one: In times of deepest turmoil, the popular culture often becomes more exciting, more revolutionary, more original. Think of the first British Invasion. The artists and musicians involved in that scene were born at the height of World War II during the Blitz and other bombing campaigns directly targeting the U.K., and spent most of their childhoods living through a period of rationing that didn't end in Britain until ca. 1956. The period of rebuilding after the war likely took longer. So when these children of the destruction heard the barebones workings of primitive early rock & roll, they took that sound and turned it into something catchier, more refined, and poppier, as a subconscious attempt at reworking an immature sound into something more grown-up.
Fast-forward a couple of decades and witness the participants in the so-called Second British Invasion. At the time these artists were recording music, their government was ensnarled in the Falklands conflicts, their economy was in a deep recession, everyone feared the results of a mega-clash between the two sides of the Cold War, and people routinely had nightmares about nuclear strikes wiping out the planet. So in one of the most rebellious statements ever made, these artists combined elements of post-punk, classic New Wave, '60s pop, disco, and funk, and blended them all together to craft a sound that was poppy, peppy, and full of energy. It did not dare mess around by meandering about -- it was straight to the point. Showoffs and musical wankery were both despised and reviled, and bland, naive statements of "we can change the world!" were replaced by oblique lyrics full of imagery as the artists thumbed their noses at easy solutions to difficult times. They figured: Why the hell try to change things when they can only ever be unchangeable? We will choose to live out our days here with as much zeal and gusto as we can, and we will never let the difficult times get to us. Witness the quote from Simon Le Bon -- "We want to be the band that people dance to as the bomb drops." Detractors might view this as nihilism at its most obnoxious, but a realist can and should only view this as the only proper way to go.
Contrast the above with times of relative peace and prosperity, particularly in America, when global issues didn't really start to hit home until the late 1970s. Early '70s American radio played never-ending marathons of the Captain and Tenille, Loggins and Messina, Cat Stevens, Al Stewart, and other artists who were safe, bland, anonymous, dispassionate, almost bucolic. In the mid '70s the arena rocker ruled American airwaves, their musical wankery and pomposity matching the free-wheeling, bombastic spirit of the Me Generation at its selfish and self-centered prime. The soundtrack to the movie FM showcases the worst collaboration between the two aforementioned periods of popular American music, at a time when the only positive American contribution to popular music from 1970 to the present, disco music, was already utilizing the exciting advances in musical technology. In other words, they were quick to welcome the synth.
Disco music is, in fact, the exception that proves the rule. A musical genre whose target audience involved the disenfranchised in American society -- gays and lesbians, transgendered people, racial and ethnic minorities, and women -- its pulsating rhythms and willingness to lead the listener/dancer into a state of oblivion provided a revolutionary wake-up call to groups of individuals who were accustomed to living life on the periphery. The dance floor became a target for pent-up energy and frustration, and it allowed these people to join in with a global community of dancers, artists, and other fabulous people, who all feasted upon the ferocious energy boost that disco gave them. By the end of the 1970s, all of these groups sublimated disco into their consciousness and, though circumstances forced disco to remain underground in the U.S., it never really died off.
The aforementioned circumstances involved anti-disco chants and rants that were more often than not mere window dressings for bigoted thought processes that resided below the surface of the obnoxious young, Caucasian, suburban males who shouted "Death to disco." A few years later, these same men, all grown up and now a part of the power structure in America, targeted the premier element of the Second British Invasion, New Pop (synthpop), and hissed stereotyped and vaguely homophobic remarks in an (eventually successful) effort to wipe the American popular music slate clean of these artists who dared to challenge the dominant musical paradigm. Tying this all back to the original theory, New Pop helped provide entertainment for another group that was effectively disenfranchised in the early to mid '80s -- young teenaged girls. It is telling that only one filmmaker throughout this time spoke the teenaged girls' lexicon: John Hughes, who also made movies for teenaged boys (but with an enlightened spirit that did not objectify the girls therein). These girls, who were also continually frightened by the thought of nuclear war and who were hearing in the news stories of this relatively new phenomenon called "global terrorism", whose main target happened to be U.S. interests, sought New Pop for the same reasons that the men and the women out on the dance floor ca. 1977 sought out disco.
So I suppose, having said all that, that it's no surprise that I too would get wrapped up in New Pop. Since its original purpose was to provide an outlet for young women whose voices weren't being heard or represented in the mainstream, it fits with my own life story. As an American Latina who "came of age" in the 1990s, I can recall not seeing anything in the media that told my own story. The only members of "la raza" who took part in mass media were still the bit players -- the key grips, the best boys, the carpenters, and the like. I cannot recall a single TV or movie star throughout the whole of that decade who looked like me or a member of my family. The music of that time period also did not speak for me. Alternative rock was for the white kids in the suburbs (though as someone who tried so very hard to be white, I did do a good job of mimicking interest in the genre). Rap and hip-hop were for African Americans, whose voices were being heard loud and clear. Dance took on a European flair but quickly became mired in its own repetitiveness; it was more for the drugged-up dancers than for any music listener. Country? I don't think so. So my music-seeking ears picked up very quickly on a genre that had already proven itself to be an effective voice for those without one, and I almost immediately fell in love with New Pop. The highly tailored androgyny spoke well to me in a time when the popular young male pop cultural figures appeared slovenly and full of machismo, and the thoughtful artsiness of the video clips held up very well when compared to the banal performance clips that filled '90s music video television programming.
But I'm going to have to think about this theory of mine some more. I don't know if it's fully fleshed out enough. It does appear to solve a lot of puzzles, though. And I'm hoping that maybe, if it does work out, it will go far in explaining why it is I was drawn to what I was drawn to, even though I've been told for fifteen years that I'm not "supposed" to be drawn to it, either for popularity or critical reasons.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
In A Big Country: Canadian New Wave
At last, a difficult period that ended up lasting me a little under 48 hours is over and done with. My reward is to expostulate on something here on this blog (almost called it a "journal").
What should I talk about now? Maybe I should reveal the name of another track I listened to on that '80s Internet radio program I also discovered (for myself, obv) The Armoury Show's "The Glory Of Love" on, i.e. "Railways" by Kitchens Of Distinction. But having found that the Kitchens Of Distinction were known as sort of a "shoegaze"-type group with a lot of underground critical acceptance, I decided their aesthetic doesn't really fit the overall scene of this blog, though that song did sound really nice in a sort of "imagine the perfect scenario of being in college in 1988 and listening to the most far-out 'modern rock' on the campus radio station" way. I would've totally been okay with being "indie" had it worked out that I'd have been "indie" in the late '80s, after experiencing the joys of super-anthemic synthpop. However, since things DIDN'T end up working out that way and I was thrown into a scenario where "college radio" rock was pretty much more of the same shit I'd been apathetic about (to say the least) since my early adolescence, the indie scene will never gel for me, no matter how many indie acts try now to ape the sound of the early '80s.
So where do these answers lie? Where shall I go? I can always try to rebel by reaching out for something that is completely antithetical to that pristine, serene, intellectual scene, something whose aesthetic is completely everything stereotypically gauche about the '80s without being to the point where even I would roll my eyes and go, "Oh dear Lord, what are they on about?" So no Poison, no Crue, not Ratt or Whitesnake or what have you from the "hair metal"oids whose primary goal was just to score some chicks and booze on the Sunset Strip. No, I think I shall have to look up at the Great White North for my anti-college rock rebellion to be soundtracked.
Yep, that's right. O Canada....
One of the first Canadian artists I can think of for the purpose I seek is the truly cheesy Platinum Blonde. Ah yes, the group led by one former Brit (and boy was it a surprise to find that out) named Mark Holmes and featuring some of the most laughable "mall rat" hairstyles ever showcased on a masculine head, this group did manage to create some pretty sweet tunes. Everyone can recall "Crying Over You" with its big '80s rock sound, all machismo and swagger on the surface but candy-flavored nougat on the inside, but oddly enough, one of their earlier hits, "It Doesn't Really Matter", had quite a lot of that Brit-influenced substance the group had apparently sought. Still, to think of Platinum Blonde as being Canada's answer to Duran Duran would evoke concerns about Canada's ability to respond competently. Doesn't mean it wouldn't keep me from enjoying their music, however overblown the rock might have become.
Then there's a group that truly deserves never to have felt a single moment's cringe, the fabulous Payloa$. People always recall them for their hit "Eyes Of A Stranger", and for good reason, too; the song's reggae-flavored New Wave sound is a perfect exemplar of the group's sound overall. Everything about The Payola$' music is antithetical to Platinum Blonde -- it is subtle and smooth and complex and almost feminine. The real Duran Duran picked The Payloa$ to open for the band during their grand North American stand at Toronto's Maple Leaf Gardens in 1984 during a concert that was taped for commercial redistribution, but that was by no means the band's biggest success point. That would come later, after the group had broken up and the guitarist of the band, one Bob Rock, became an in-demand hard rock/heavy metal producer, producing names such as Metallica. To hear Metallica's music and contrast it with the delicate strumming Rock did as a member of The Payloa$ might lead one to wonder how one might be able to get from point A to point B, but noting that Rock was able to dial down the sound of the fury and come up with something that was still quite powerful does help.
How about Corey Hart? No one has yet to come to Hart's defense critically for his recordings, not even in the era of supposed tearing down of previously held notions about such htings, but I do feel they deserve re-evaluation, particularly his album Boy In The Box, which I feel is a very strong, underrated synthpop delight. There's also the previously mentioned Parachute Club, who spread their almost hippie-like joy north of the border. Images In Vogue are actually perhaps the classiest Canadian contribution to the world of '80s pop music; their icy/classy synthpop could be fooled for being of British origin, it's that good. Martha & the Muffins are another notable example of tasteful Canadian New Wave. Even if every one of their songs had been an "Echo Beach" clone, they'd have had plenty to be proud of. Strange Advance's music revisits the same bombastic territory of Platinum Blonde, but with a lot more subtlety and quality; Strange Advance could have actually been credibly advanced as being Canada's answer to Duran Duran, in fact. Oh, and speaking of artists that could've been fooled for being British, Trans-X's "Living On Video" would have left people puzzling as to how that slice of prototechno was NOT concocted in the U.K.
Regardless of how tasteful, low-key, etc., all that music is, however, it does also provide a good counterpoint to the world of self-importance that the "indie" musical genre has generally resided within. Because of Canada's massive land size (bigger in area that the United States), its music is destined to be equally big and make a huge statement with massive sounds. Even The Payloa$ and Images In Vogue had music that belied the BIG-ness of their originating country, even though their sounds were more low-key and tasteful. And during a time when we are supposed to be starting to celebrate the previously unchampioned while we slough off our old, silly notions of what is to be consisdered critically acceptable, that big sound should and will play a key role in the much-needed new musical revolution.
(God, I hope all of the above makes sense to me when I get some actual sleep in me.)
What should I talk about now? Maybe I should reveal the name of another track I listened to on that '80s Internet radio program I also discovered (for myself, obv) The Armoury Show's "The Glory Of Love" on, i.e. "Railways" by Kitchens Of Distinction. But having found that the Kitchens Of Distinction were known as sort of a "shoegaze"-type group with a lot of underground critical acceptance, I decided their aesthetic doesn't really fit the overall scene of this blog, though that song did sound really nice in a sort of "imagine the perfect scenario of being in college in 1988 and listening to the most far-out 'modern rock' on the campus radio station" way. I would've totally been okay with being "indie" had it worked out that I'd have been "indie" in the late '80s, after experiencing the joys of super-anthemic synthpop. However, since things DIDN'T end up working out that way and I was thrown into a scenario where "college radio" rock was pretty much more of the same shit I'd been apathetic about (to say the least) since my early adolescence, the indie scene will never gel for me, no matter how many indie acts try now to ape the sound of the early '80s.
So where do these answers lie? Where shall I go? I can always try to rebel by reaching out for something that is completely antithetical to that pristine, serene, intellectual scene, something whose aesthetic is completely everything stereotypically gauche about the '80s without being to the point where even I would roll my eyes and go, "Oh dear Lord, what are they on about?" So no Poison, no Crue, not Ratt or Whitesnake or what have you from the "hair metal"oids whose primary goal was just to score some chicks and booze on the Sunset Strip. No, I think I shall have to look up at the Great White North for my anti-college rock rebellion to be soundtracked.
Yep, that's right. O Canada....
One of the first Canadian artists I can think of for the purpose I seek is the truly cheesy Platinum Blonde. Ah yes, the group led by one former Brit (and boy was it a surprise to find that out) named Mark Holmes and featuring some of the most laughable "mall rat" hairstyles ever showcased on a masculine head, this group did manage to create some pretty sweet tunes. Everyone can recall "Crying Over You" with its big '80s rock sound, all machismo and swagger on the surface but candy-flavored nougat on the inside, but oddly enough, one of their earlier hits, "It Doesn't Really Matter", had quite a lot of that Brit-influenced substance the group had apparently sought. Still, to think of Platinum Blonde as being Canada's answer to Duran Duran would evoke concerns about Canada's ability to respond competently. Doesn't mean it wouldn't keep me from enjoying their music, however overblown the rock might have become.
Then there's a group that truly deserves never to have felt a single moment's cringe, the fabulous Payloa$. People always recall them for their hit "Eyes Of A Stranger", and for good reason, too; the song's reggae-flavored New Wave sound is a perfect exemplar of the group's sound overall. Everything about The Payola$' music is antithetical to Platinum Blonde -- it is subtle and smooth and complex and almost feminine. The real Duran Duran picked The Payloa$ to open for the band during their grand North American stand at Toronto's Maple Leaf Gardens in 1984 during a concert that was taped for commercial redistribution, but that was by no means the band's biggest success point. That would come later, after the group had broken up and the guitarist of the band, one Bob Rock, became an in-demand hard rock/heavy metal producer, producing names such as Metallica. To hear Metallica's music and contrast it with the delicate strumming Rock did as a member of The Payloa$ might lead one to wonder how one might be able to get from point A to point B, but noting that Rock was able to dial down the sound of the fury and come up with something that was still quite powerful does help.
How about Corey Hart? No one has yet to come to Hart's defense critically for his recordings, not even in the era of supposed tearing down of previously held notions about such htings, but I do feel they deserve re-evaluation, particularly his album Boy In The Box, which I feel is a very strong, underrated synthpop delight. There's also the previously mentioned Parachute Club, who spread their almost hippie-like joy north of the border. Images In Vogue are actually perhaps the classiest Canadian contribution to the world of '80s pop music; their icy/classy synthpop could be fooled for being of British origin, it's that good. Martha & the Muffins are another notable example of tasteful Canadian New Wave. Even if every one of their songs had been an "Echo Beach" clone, they'd have had plenty to be proud of. Strange Advance's music revisits the same bombastic territory of Platinum Blonde, but with a lot more subtlety and quality; Strange Advance could have actually been credibly advanced as being Canada's answer to Duran Duran, in fact. Oh, and speaking of artists that could've been fooled for being British, Trans-X's "Living On Video" would have left people puzzling as to how that slice of prototechno was NOT concocted in the U.K.
Regardless of how tasteful, low-key, etc., all that music is, however, it does also provide a good counterpoint to the world of self-importance that the "indie" musical genre has generally resided within. Because of Canada's massive land size (bigger in area that the United States), its music is destined to be equally big and make a huge statement with massive sounds. Even The Payloa$ and Images In Vogue had music that belied the BIG-ness of their originating country, even though their sounds were more low-key and tasteful. And during a time when we are supposed to be starting to celebrate the previously unchampioned while we slough off our old, silly notions of what is to be consisdered critically acceptable, that big sound should and will play a key role in the much-needed new musical revolution.
(God, I hope all of the above makes sense to me when I get some actual sleep in me.)
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
My '80s New Pop Playlist (04182007)
(Just an edit to clarify that now you can get to hear all the songs below on a special playlist page I just created. Yay me.)
I just finished lining up 20 songs, all of them (bar maybe one or two examples) released as singles sometime around the mid '80s, that exemplify what I would've played had I had control of a radio station and wanted to showcase some of the best of underrated '80s New Pop. The following is my list and some brief comments about them (I'll probably expand on many of them as this blog progresses):
1. Breathe, "Hands To Heaven": Oddly and heartbreakingly poignant and tender slow song. Beautifully rendered, delicate, with great vocals.
2. Johnny Hates Jazz, "Shattered Dreams": I am almost obsessed with this song. It is one of the most perfect examples of beautiful sophistipop. Remind me to write more about Johnny Hates Jazz sometime in the near future. I consider them HIGHLY underrated.
3. Boy Meets Girl, "Waiting For A Star To Fall": Fun little pop ditty. Assumes no pretensions, tries just to entertain the listener and succeeds.
4. Dan Hartman, "I Can Dream About You": Picks up a heart that has been downtrodden and lifts it up into the stratosphere. Just close your eyes and let the song do its work. Hartman, like fellow Philadelphian Daryl Hall, sang so soulfully.
5. The Parachute Club, "Rise Up": Very Up With People. Very hopeful and aspirational pop; fits somewhat in with the late '60s aesthetic, though without being fun-free.
6. Jesse Johnson & Stephanie Spruill, "Heart Too Hot To Hold": One of the most addictive dance pop songs ever recorded. You play it once and instantly want to play it again. Part of the glory that was The Breakfast Club's end credits.
7. Curiosity Killed The Cat, "Misfit": Andy Warhol championed them for a reason -- this song (again with an Up With People message of "like yourself the way you are") has hooks galore and is sophisticated to boot. The only decent thing Simon Cowell's ever been responsible for, and they came at the beginning of his career.
8. Bananarama, "The Wild Life": I can't believe this song wasn't their biggest hit. It is so intense and wonderful and the hooks build up atop each other and, and, and....
9. Benjamin Orr, "Stay The Night": Ah, God bless this late leader of The Cars for running with the New Pop meme after the smash success of "Drive". One of the Good Guys of American music; will definitely be missed.
10. Wang Chung, "Fire In The Twilight": Another Breakfast Club soundtrack listing. The video (no longer available on YouTube thanks to the Viacom fascists) was a lot of great fun, much like this song is.
11. Kajagoogoo, "Hang On Now": My favorite Kajagoogoo track. It is slow and sad and hopeful and filled with magic in both voice and instrumentation. If you liked Limahl's "The Neverending Story", chances are you love this song too.
12. King, "Love & Pride": Reaching a bit back into the archive to get this kitschy yet fun and tight (as tight as the jeans seen in the accompanying video) song.
13. Icehouse, "Electric Blue": The reason I got into Icehouse. I own the cassingle of this song and can't count the number of times I've played it. So sophisticated, so classy, so filled with pop hooks, and Iva Davies was so cute back then.
14. Alphaville, "Dance With Me": If you don't like this song, I don't know if I want to be friends with you. It is so full of hope and life and power and energy and exuberance and you can just feel Marian Gold's smile radiating outward to your ears that it is undeniable.
15. Howard Jones, "What Is Love?": A surprisingly touching and tender-hearted love song wrapped up in a cynical song title. I'm thinking I might want to save my thoughts about that for a future post.
16. a-ha, "The Living Daylights": My favorite Bond theme, besting even my beloved Duran Duran's "A View To A Kill". The reason? The song is less melodramatic -- indeed, it is understated for a Bond theme. Plus, I mean, it's a-ha; these guys are the pride of Norway for a reason.
17. Scritti Politti, "Perfect Way": Aw yeah, the masters of mid '80s New Pop with their biggest hit. A well-deserved chart smash. And the video -- oh, be still my adolescent heart! As a teen, I wanted to find the "perfect way" to win the beautiful Green Gartside's affections; now, I rejoice as he finally marries that girl who made HIM "go crazy".
18. Industry, "State Of The Nation": One of the few American music groups that actually got the '80s RIGHT, once they got little Jon Carin in (he was only 20 when this song was released). Another song I'm almost obsessed with.
19. Comsat Angels, "I'm Falling": Post-punk stalwarts, a la Scritti Politti, who got into New Pop by the mid '80s and mastered it. Slightly reggae-flavored, this song showcases a real sense of yearning. It was ballyhooed by the CSA fanbase but deserves to be re-evaluated NOW.
20. Naked Eyes, "Promises, Promises": Showcases everything I love about Tony Mansfield's spookily atmospheric synth production, along with being a good argument for why Pete Byrne and Rob Fisher were considered the Bacharach/David of '80s New Pop. (Disclaimer: This would be the U.S. version of this song, which I naturally prefer to the U.K. version, though the latter version is good in an exotic sort of way.)
Wow, this was fun. I should do more of these.
I just finished lining up 20 songs, all of them (bar maybe one or two examples) released as singles sometime around the mid '80s, that exemplify what I would've played had I had control of a radio station and wanted to showcase some of the best of underrated '80s New Pop. The following is my list and some brief comments about them (I'll probably expand on many of them as this blog progresses):
1. Breathe, "Hands To Heaven": Oddly and heartbreakingly poignant and tender slow song. Beautifully rendered, delicate, with great vocals.
2. Johnny Hates Jazz, "Shattered Dreams": I am almost obsessed with this song. It is one of the most perfect examples of beautiful sophistipop. Remind me to write more about Johnny Hates Jazz sometime in the near future. I consider them HIGHLY underrated.
3. Boy Meets Girl, "Waiting For A Star To Fall": Fun little pop ditty. Assumes no pretensions, tries just to entertain the listener and succeeds.
4. Dan Hartman, "I Can Dream About You": Picks up a heart that has been downtrodden and lifts it up into the stratosphere. Just close your eyes and let the song do its work. Hartman, like fellow Philadelphian Daryl Hall, sang so soulfully.
5. The Parachute Club, "Rise Up": Very Up With People. Very hopeful and aspirational pop; fits somewhat in with the late '60s aesthetic, though without being fun-free.
6. Jesse Johnson & Stephanie Spruill, "Heart Too Hot To Hold": One of the most addictive dance pop songs ever recorded. You play it once and instantly want to play it again. Part of the glory that was The Breakfast Club's end credits.
7. Curiosity Killed The Cat, "Misfit": Andy Warhol championed them for a reason -- this song (again with an Up With People message of "like yourself the way you are") has hooks galore and is sophisticated to boot. The only decent thing Simon Cowell's ever been responsible for, and they came at the beginning of his career.
8. Bananarama, "The Wild Life": I can't believe this song wasn't their biggest hit. It is so intense and wonderful and the hooks build up atop each other and, and, and....
9. Benjamin Orr, "Stay The Night": Ah, God bless this late leader of The Cars for running with the New Pop meme after the smash success of "Drive". One of the Good Guys of American music; will definitely be missed.
10. Wang Chung, "Fire In The Twilight": Another Breakfast Club soundtrack listing. The video (no longer available on YouTube thanks to the Viacom fascists) was a lot of great fun, much like this song is.
11. Kajagoogoo, "Hang On Now": My favorite Kajagoogoo track. It is slow and sad and hopeful and filled with magic in both voice and instrumentation. If you liked Limahl's "The Neverending Story", chances are you love this song too.
12. King, "Love & Pride": Reaching a bit back into the archive to get this kitschy yet fun and tight (as tight as the jeans seen in the accompanying video) song.
13. Icehouse, "Electric Blue": The reason I got into Icehouse. I own the cassingle of this song and can't count the number of times I've played it. So sophisticated, so classy, so filled with pop hooks, and Iva Davies was so cute back then.
14. Alphaville, "Dance With Me": If you don't like this song, I don't know if I want to be friends with you. It is so full of hope and life and power and energy and exuberance and you can just feel Marian Gold's smile radiating outward to your ears that it is undeniable.
15. Howard Jones, "What Is Love?": A surprisingly touching and tender-hearted love song wrapped up in a cynical song title. I'm thinking I might want to save my thoughts about that for a future post.
16. a-ha, "The Living Daylights": My favorite Bond theme, besting even my beloved Duran Duran's "A View To A Kill". The reason? The song is less melodramatic -- indeed, it is understated for a Bond theme. Plus, I mean, it's a-ha; these guys are the pride of Norway for a reason.
17. Scritti Politti, "Perfect Way": Aw yeah, the masters of mid '80s New Pop with their biggest hit. A well-deserved chart smash. And the video -- oh, be still my adolescent heart! As a teen, I wanted to find the "perfect way" to win the beautiful Green Gartside's affections; now, I rejoice as he finally marries that girl who made HIM "go crazy".
18. Industry, "State Of The Nation": One of the few American music groups that actually got the '80s RIGHT, once they got little Jon Carin in (he was only 20 when this song was released). Another song I'm almost obsessed with.
19. Comsat Angels, "I'm Falling": Post-punk stalwarts, a la Scritti Politti, who got into New Pop by the mid '80s and mastered it. Slightly reggae-flavored, this song showcases a real sense of yearning. It was ballyhooed by the CSA fanbase but deserves to be re-evaluated NOW.
20. Naked Eyes, "Promises, Promises": Showcases everything I love about Tony Mansfield's spookily atmospheric synth production, along with being a good argument for why Pete Byrne and Rob Fisher were considered the Bacharach/David of '80s New Pop. (Disclaimer: This would be the U.S. version of this song, which I naturally prefer to the U.K. version, though the latter version is good in an exotic sort of way.)
Wow, this was fun. I should do more of these.
The Incestuous World Of Scottish New Wave, Part 1 (Possibly)
First off, a moment of silence for the victims of the Virginia Tech massacre. Especially for Dr. Liviu Librescu, who lived and died the very definition of the word "hero". I won't admire very many people the way I admire him.
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In the wise words of my friend Chelsea, "the music business is incestuous".
Last night I listened to this wonderful, anthemic, powerful track, but the problem was, I didn't know who performed it or what the name of the song was. Today, after doing some research, I found out the name of the song was "The Glory Of Love" and it was performed by a group called The Armoury Set. After searching for information about The Armoury Set, I was surprised to find that it was a group featuring the lead vocals of Richard Jobson (formerly of The Skids) and the lead guitar work of the late John McGeoch (of Magazine and Visage and other groups/projects). The Skids immediately connect me to the obvious: the late Stuart Adamson, The Skids' lead guitarist before he left to form Big Country, a group that was one of the more popular Scottish artists in the States. It also leads me indirectly to the Scars (see my prior post about them), whose bandmates deeply admired The Skids and whose lead guitarist was directly influenced by Adamson.
The McGeoch/Magazine connection leads me to the recently departed Colin Thurston, best known for his engineering work with David Bowie and for producing Duran Duran's first two studio albums, but whose first production work was actually Magazine's Secondhand Daylight. It also leads to Howard Devoto and The Buzzcocks, of whom he was their first lead singer. (After Devoto left to join Magazine, the band's lead guitarist Pete Shelley stepped up to lead vocals.) The McGeoch/Visage connection leads me directly into the world I know best/most about, the late '70s/early '80s New Romantic scene, with Steve Strange (Visage's lead singer/public face) playing a key role in the scene and former Scottish teen idol Midge Ure joining forces with Ultravox's Billy Currie on the Visage project, then joining up with Currie and the rest of the John Foxx-less band and guiding them into a more electronic, NuRo sound. Ure and Duran Duran would later be bandmates of a sort on a different project: 1984's Band Aid, whose "Do They Know It's Christmas?" was penned by Ure and Bob Geldof and performed by a host of predominantly British musicians, including all the members of Duran Duran.
Backing up a bit, the song by The Armoury Set that captivated my attention in the first place reminded me a lot of Simple Minds, with its sweepingly melodramatic atmosphere and grand, majestic scope that attracted me to the song. The Simple Minds were the first taste of Scottish New Wave for me and for a lot of others here in the States. The Simple Minds lead me, as has been stated before on this blog, to Endgames, whose drummer Brian McGee was one of the founder members of Simple Minds (even having been friends with Jim Kerr and Charlie Burchill from early childhood), and who utilized the saxophonic talents of Paul Wishart of Endgames for an early '80s tour. And reading an interview done of Richard Jobson, with his mentioning his Irish Catholic roots and his childhood insistence of supporting the "right" Scottish football organizations (shades of Northern Ireland and Protestant vs. Catholic struggles here), reminded me of another Scottish musician whose music I discovered via the New Wave Outpost, Steven Hale of the London-based Language, whose heritage is similar to Jobson's, but who refused to be a fan of football/soccer precisely because of those Protestant/Catholic struggles. (I would go on about how those Protestant/Catholic struggles remind me of those I see evidenced throughout my very American life, but that's for another kind of blog.) And Steven Hale connects me to Gang Of Four via GO4 lead singer Jon King's sister Debbie, a backup singer in Language and a lead singer in another project the percussionist Hale was in, and Eddi Reader, another backup singer (and Scotland native) who went on to score big with Fairground Attraction ("Perfect").
Oh, this is all very exhausting and circuitous, but it does prove Chelsea's point that the music industry IS incestuous, especially when it's concentrated in particular focal points such as Scotland. A country as small as that, with just over 4 million citizens/residents and an area size roughly 1/10 of my home state's (I'm a Texan), will be bound to have quite a lot of connections amongst its musician citizenry. But to see them all evidenced in such a small time frame (the action happens from 1977 - 1984, roughly the life span of the original New Wave movement) is breathtaking, especially when all of them apparently created such high-quality, wonderful music.
...
...
...
...
In the wise words of my friend Chelsea, "the music business is incestuous".
Last night I listened to this wonderful, anthemic, powerful track, but the problem was, I didn't know who performed it or what the name of the song was. Today, after doing some research, I found out the name of the song was "The Glory Of Love" and it was performed by a group called The Armoury Set. After searching for information about The Armoury Set, I was surprised to find that it was a group featuring the lead vocals of Richard Jobson (formerly of The Skids) and the lead guitar work of the late John McGeoch (of Magazine and Visage and other groups/projects). The Skids immediately connect me to the obvious: the late Stuart Adamson, The Skids' lead guitarist before he left to form Big Country, a group that was one of the more popular Scottish artists in the States. It also leads me indirectly to the Scars (see my prior post about them), whose bandmates deeply admired The Skids and whose lead guitarist was directly influenced by Adamson.
The McGeoch/Magazine connection leads me to the recently departed Colin Thurston, best known for his engineering work with David Bowie and for producing Duran Duran's first two studio albums, but whose first production work was actually Magazine's Secondhand Daylight. It also leads to Howard Devoto and The Buzzcocks, of whom he was their first lead singer. (After Devoto left to join Magazine, the band's lead guitarist Pete Shelley stepped up to lead vocals.) The McGeoch/Visage connection leads me directly into the world I know best/most about, the late '70s/early '80s New Romantic scene, with Steve Strange (Visage's lead singer/public face) playing a key role in the scene and former Scottish teen idol Midge Ure joining forces with Ultravox's Billy Currie on the Visage project, then joining up with Currie and the rest of the John Foxx-less band and guiding them into a more electronic, NuRo sound. Ure and Duran Duran would later be bandmates of a sort on a different project: 1984's Band Aid, whose "Do They Know It's Christmas?" was penned by Ure and Bob Geldof and performed by a host of predominantly British musicians, including all the members of Duran Duran.
Backing up a bit, the song by The Armoury Set that captivated my attention in the first place reminded me a lot of Simple Minds, with its sweepingly melodramatic atmosphere and grand, majestic scope that attracted me to the song. The Simple Minds were the first taste of Scottish New Wave for me and for a lot of others here in the States. The Simple Minds lead me, as has been stated before on this blog, to Endgames, whose drummer Brian McGee was one of the founder members of Simple Minds (even having been friends with Jim Kerr and Charlie Burchill from early childhood), and who utilized the saxophonic talents of Paul Wishart of Endgames for an early '80s tour. And reading an interview done of Richard Jobson, with his mentioning his Irish Catholic roots and his childhood insistence of supporting the "right" Scottish football organizations (shades of Northern Ireland and Protestant vs. Catholic struggles here), reminded me of another Scottish musician whose music I discovered via the New Wave Outpost, Steven Hale of the London-based Language, whose heritage is similar to Jobson's, but who refused to be a fan of football/soccer precisely because of those Protestant/Catholic struggles. (I would go on about how those Protestant/Catholic struggles remind me of those I see evidenced throughout my very American life, but that's for another kind of blog.) And Steven Hale connects me to Gang Of Four via GO4 lead singer Jon King's sister Debbie, a backup singer in Language and a lead singer in another project the percussionist Hale was in, and Eddi Reader, another backup singer (and Scotland native) who went on to score big with Fairground Attraction ("Perfect").
Oh, this is all very exhausting and circuitous, but it does prove Chelsea's point that the music industry IS incestuous, especially when it's concentrated in particular focal points such as Scotland. A country as small as that, with just over 4 million citizens/residents and an area size roughly 1/10 of my home state's (I'm a Texan), will be bound to have quite a lot of connections amongst its musician citizenry. But to see them all evidenced in such a small time frame (the action happens from 1977 - 1984, roughly the life span of the original New Wave movement) is breathtaking, especially when all of them apparently created such high-quality, wonderful music.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
'80s Pop Culture In A Fork: My Awesome '80s Diet
Feeling a little on the weak side tonight, so I'll tackle a light topic: Food in the '80s.
Unlike most aspects of '80s living, the food trends of the '80s did hit me right at home. Which meant I spent a lot of time noshing on healthier fare and being aware of diets. It also meant eating that was at the time thought to be attuned to my mother's diabetes. Using margarine instead of butter, drinking diet sodas and sugar-free Kool Aid, having sugar-free Jell-O and Cool-Whip for dessert -- all of that mingled both with the diet-crazed '80s and my mother's doctors' admonitions to follow a healthier diet. Other food trends also made their way into my family's regular food eating. Hamburger Helper, which debuted in the '70s and was many an '80s working woman's savior, was a regular feature for dinner and a cause for celebration for little girl me. Always served with an iceberg lettuce and tomato salad (thousand island and Catalina dressings both available), Hamburger Helper always felt like some reward or special treat and still tastes (to me) like home. (My favorite flavor was always beef stroganoff.)
But back to the sodas -- the first soda I ever drank was TaB Cola. Once the target of ridicule for its distinctive saccarhine taste and even temporarily taken off the shelves when the "saccharine as possible carcinogen" scare was going on, TaB is a sort of acquired taste. You take the first couple of sips of the soda and can't believe anything could taste that bitter or artificial, but then you drink some more and it starts to taste pretty good. Almost fruity, even. By the time you've finished off a can, you can't wait to get into the next one. And that's how it starts. For me, that taste is the taste of my lost childhood, especially since so few retailers these days actually stock it still. I may have moved on to Diet Coke and other diet sodas, but TaB will always be that first soda for me. One look at that ubiquitous pink can and it's instant flashback time to a time when I would come home in my Catholic school girl uniform, peel off my sweater and skirt, take my penny loafers off, walk around in my school shirt and the shorts I wore under the skirt, grab a TaB from the fridge, and sip away as my parents started on dinner.
This is not to say that my childhood was sugar-free. Oh no. I too enjoyed cookies and pie and cake and ice cream. It's just -- I remember them being more "occasional" foods, goodies eaten during special occasions or every once in awhile. And I don't remember seeing them all that often around the house. Usually when I would eat cookies they were store-bought. Same with pies, though at least you had to bake them at home (oh Mrs. Smith's, where would my childhood be without you?). Cake came from a mix. And ice cream was a rare treat indeed, usually reserved for the once-monthly trips to McDonald's where, if I was good, I would get a small strawberry sundae or maybe even a cone. Usually what constituted as "ice cream" around the house was actually sherbet, predominantly the peach or pineapple flavors. Sherbet, touted in Mom's diet books as being a healthier alternative to ice cream, is now something I don't really crave, having converted to the dark side of ultra-creamy ice cream.
Not all of my old food biases from the '80s have been converted. For example, I still can only stand just a little bit of butter in my food. I still feel strongly that the taste of margarine is actually a "buttery" taste and cannot comprehend anti-margarine bias. I don't really know what cake made from scratch tastes like and don't have that curiosity thanks to Betty Crocker. My blood runs cold whenever anyone laughs at the concept of Hamburger Helper or TV dinners or anything else that was meant to be a quick fix and eat type dinner concept. I'll only drink regular sodas if I'm having to work a graveyard shift (so I can stay awake better) and can't fathom drinking those all the time, I in fact find a lot of things "too sweet", and I wonder how certain families could afford having a parent stay at home long enough to fix a fully home-prepared and -cooked dinner every night and secretly wonder if those "like Mom/Grandma used to make" families have been solidly middle class for generations.
I guess that's what my '80s really boils down to as far as food goes. See, I was still living in a solidly blue-collar, lower middle class socioeconomic ring during that decade, and I know for a fact both my parents worked outside the home on a full-time basis because they couldn't afford to do otherwise. By the early '90s, which is when my parents moved up in their respective jobs (my mom with the most impressive leap, comparatively), we were finally able to work towards entering the regular middle class and that's when we started broadening our food horizons. But a lot of the "from scratch" food nostalgia that gets propagated by the food-oriented mass media comes from a background of generations of solidly middle class families, whose female members were historically able to make the time and effort to making things such as pie crusts and homemade cookies and who passed that down to the proceeding generation. The '80s was one historic moment when all of that really didn't make that much of a difference because everyone was busy and convenience (and affordability) reigned. But by the time the true cultural '90s rolled around and people started murmuring about going back to their "food roots", the fissures in the pavement started to show and it became more obvious who was working hard in the '80s because they wanted to, and who was working hard because they HAD to.
So I will continue to enjoy Cool Whip (that's another thing -- I've never had "fresh sweet whipped cream" before) and sugar-free Jell-O. I will continue to insist on buying pre-made pot pies and cookie dough to bake up in the oven and ooh and aah at the results. I will drink my TaB and eat oat- and fiber-rich cereals and find no difference in the pleasure values between those and the sugary "kid" cereals that cost just as much. I will not have bread snobbery except for the recent development of my preferring whole wheat bread to regular white. I will enjoy iceberg lettuce and tell everyone about that. I will refuse to stop feeling more comfortable with the taste of margarine than I am with the taste of butter. And I will eat premium ice cream with the knowledge that my dessert is a luxury, not a necessity, and that I would've never gotten to eat that when my age was in the single digits.
(Wow, two serious posts in a row. I must be going for some record here.)
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