Chart Week: February 25, 1984
Song: “Nobody Told Me” – John Lennon
Chart Position: #7, 6th week on the chart. Peaked at #5 the week of March 3.

I’ve been thinking about songs by dead people lately. There’s no mathematical way to quantify it, yet I keep trying to isolate the effect an artist’s death has on new music released after they pass. Do songs get more popular because of our morbid fascination with death, and thus become bigger hits? Or do they perform pretty much the same as if the artist lived?

This has been on my mind because of a couple songs I’ve run across recently.

For the first time in ages I heard “Mighty KC,” a 1995 track by the band For Squirrels. It was about Kurt Cobain – Mighty KC, get it? – so it already had a Dead Artist connection, which may have been enough for it to crack the modern rock chart.[1] Just before For Squirrels released their debut album, the band was involved in an auto accident that took the lives of lead singer Jack Vigliatura and bass player Bill White. The song got a lot of airplay on alt-rock radio, and it seemed like DJs always referenced that double-tracked death angle.

Whether it was the Cobain reference, the band’s own tragedy, or a combination, something propelled this song by an unknown group up to #15 on the alternative rock chart.

After not hearing “Mighty KC” since sometime in the Nineties, I’ve heard it twice in the past month. The Music Gods were pushing me down a path.

I’ve also heard a couple countdowns from early 1984 recently, both of which included the final hit of John Lennon’s solo career.

The former Beatle retreated from the public eye in the mid-Seventies, and spent several years in semi-seclusion. He was cleaning himself up from heroin, rededicating himself to his wife Yoko Ono, and delighting in being a father to his son Sean.

By 1980 he was ready to start making music and show his face to the world again. Late in the year he released the Double Fantasy album. The week of December 6 his comeback single, “(Just Like) Starting Over,” was #6 in just its sixth week on the Billboard Hot 100.[2]

On the evening of December 8, 1980, Mark David Chapman, a mentally ill fan, shot and killed Lennon outside his New York apartment.

Three weeks later, “(Just Like) Starting Over” began a five-week stay at #1.

If we could have somehow skipped over December 8, or if Chapman had been arrested, or if his addled brain had just told him to be satisfied with the autograph he got from Lennon earlier that day, would the song still have hit #1? Based on its trajectory and the fact it was the first new Lennon song in five years, the answer is pretty clearly yes. Would it have spent as long at the top of chart? No tidy formula can answer that for us.

While Lennon was recording Double Fantasy, he dug up a demo made in 1976 called “Everybody’s Talkin’, Nobody’s Talkin’.” He brushed it up a bit, changing the piano to guitar. He also renamed it “Nobody Told Me.” However, he didn’t think it was a fit for Double Fantasy. Instead, he decided to pass it along to Ringo Starr for his next solo album. With that in mind, Lennon recorded a proper demo to use as a guide when he and Ringo got together. They had booked studio time on January 14, 1981 to take a run at it.

In the wake of Lennon’s death, Starr was too devastated to attempt to sing his friend’s composition. Thus “Nobody Told Me” sat unused until 1983 when Ono sifted through the music her husband left behind. The track was finished with studio musicians and became the lead single for the Milk and Honey album, which included six tracks written by Lennon.

The single did pretty well, peaking at #5 during a 12-week run on the Hot 100. Again it is impossible to know how much of its success was because listeners figured it might be the final, new John Lennon song.

I hear a looseness in the track that is consistent with other unfinished songs released by the estates of dead artists. There is also a roughness that feels as though it would have been tightened and smoothed with more attention. Had Lennon lived and gone into the studio with Starr, I think the final product would have been much more polished. I doubt it would have been as good, though, as Ringo wasn’t near the singer that John was.

Lennon sounds relaxed and playful on his version. When I listen to “Nobody Told Me,” I always imagine him singing with a smile on his face, happily swaying from side-to-side as he strummed his guitar. I can see him winking at the people around him during the line about UFOs over New York. I love the little “Three, four…” count in to begin the song, and the “Most peculiar mamma, roll…” ad lib near the end. I hear him shrugging off everything he went through during the Seventies and realizing that life shouldn’t be taken so seriously. I hear the joy making music again brought him.

Lennon did not leave behind a massive trove of completed or in-process songs, so there’s never been a slow trickle of “new” posthumous music like there was with Tupac, Prince, or others. After Milk and Honey was released, there were just bits of a few songs left on a collection of cassette tapes, more sketches than proper demos.[3] Rather than giving them the “Nobody Told Me” treatment, Ono passed them along to the surviving Beatles. They were turned into “Free As A Bird” and “Real Love,” released as part of the 1995 The Beatles Anthology collection, and “Now and Then,” released last fall.

I like “Nobody Told Me” far more than those “Beatles” tracks. It wasn’t shoehorned into some Beatles Nostalgia motif. No matter how respectful Paul McCartney was of Lennon’s lyrics and intent, John did not get an equal say in how those songs turned out. In “Nobody “Told Me,” the true spirit of John Lennon lives on. 7/10

Chart Week: January 5, 1985
Song: “Centipede” – Rebbie Jackson
Chart Position: #24, 14th week on the chart. This was its peak.

This is at least the third entry in the RFTS series that is as much about the massive cultural impact of Michael Jackson as the highlighted song or artist.[1] This time we will see how Michael helped pull the least known of his siblings into the spotlight.

By 1984, eight of the nine surviving children of Joe and Katherine Jackson had achieved some measure of stardom. The boys had all been in The Jackson 5/The Jacksons, ruling the charts in the early Seventies. Jermaine had split off to build a solid solo career. Tito would become a key part of a famous Eddie Murphy bit. LaToya tried hard to make a name for herself as a singer, but was better known as tabloid fodder. Janet, the youngest, had a budding acting career and a couple albums to her name, with much more soon to come. Michael was the biggest musical star in the world.

The only outlier was the eldest child, 34-year-old Rebbie. Although she had appeared on The Jacksons’ variety show and served as a studio backup singer in the late Seventies, she was content to be a wife and mother rather than follow her siblings’ show business leads.

Once her daughters had all started school, Rebbie finally took the plunge, releasing her debut album in late 1984. Five of her brothers helped her record it. Marlon, Randy, Tito, and Jackie all helped write and produce several cuts.

It was the title track, though, that got the biggest assist.

Michael wrote, arranged, produced, and joined The Weather Girls on background vocals for “Centipede.” It was the obvious lead single and only Top 40 hit from the Centipede album.

It has always blown my mind that this was a Michael song. It sounds way closer to music Prince was making at the time than anything from MJ’s catalog. Or, rather, it sounded like a record Prince would write and produce for another artist.[2] “Centipede” is in the ballpark of what Prince-controlled groups like Vanity 6 were releasing in the mid-Eighties. Just as with Vanity (Or Apollonia. Or Sheena Easton. Or Sheila E. Or…), the slinky sexuality embedded in “Centipede” hides the fact that Rebbie did not have off-the-charts vocal talent.

Rebbie wasn’t parading around in lingerie like Prince’s many female protégés, and Michael’s lyrics weren’t nearly as overt as Prince’s. Still, there’s no mistaking that “Centipede” is about sex.

The percussion seems more of Paisley Park than the Quincy Jones camp. They might be different drum machines than Prince’s beloved Linn LM–1, but their staccato sharpness recalls his preferred sound.

The pre-chorus – “In the quiet of the night…” – is all Michael, though. It sounds straight off of Thriller, especially with the soft horns in the background.

I also have to give attention to those brittle keyboard runs throughout the song. Maybe it’s just me, but I think of Toto’s “Africa” every time I hear them.

If you dive into the lyrics they are truly baffling. There is a snake, which is clearly a phallic reference. I guess the titular arthropod is supposed to represent female sexuality? Which seems like an odd choice. Especially when Rebbie sings, “Like a centipede you’ve got, a lot of lovin’ to touch.” That comes across as pretty phallic to me. And I don’t get why the person Rebbie is singing about is going to be crying so many tears after a visit from the snake and/or centipede. Are tears of joy? Is something very wrong going on in this relationship? Some of the other lyrics are so clumsy that they seem written by a person with no actual sexual experience. I keep thinking of Steve Carell in The 40 Year Old Virgin. Insert your own Michael Jackson joke here.

Michael dedicated “Centipede” to his “mannequin friends,” which doesn’t make the lyrics any clearer, but might help the listener understand why they are so odd.

The video is a delightful mess. There’s an animatronic snake. A fluorescent centipede. And a tiger.[3] Where the fuck does the tiger come from??? None of the visuals clear up any of the bizarre lyrics.

I’ve always thought that “Centipede” was a bit of a jam. It does still sound cool. Rebbie could have done far worse than this for her one mainstream hit. It was an interesting writing exercise for Michael, both in penning lyrics for someone else and taking a different approach from his previous songs. I don’t know whether he intentionally followed Prince’s sound or it was an accident, something that was in the air when he was writing. Once you get that connection in your head, you can’t shake it, and the record suffers for it. 6/10

Chart Week: December 16, 2023
Song: “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” – Darlene Love
Chart Position: #21. Current all-time high is #15 the week of January 7, 2023.

I heard the wonderful tidbit this post is built around earlier this year on an AT40 from December 1984. It was one of Casey’s “Special Reports,” music trivia blurbs not related to the current countdown that were occasionally inserted between songs. I copied down the details, wondering if there was some way I could work it into an RFTS post. When this holiday season rolled around I realized that thanks to the updated Billboard rules, I could write about it while using a modern chart.

In that 1984 Special Report, Casey shared the story of the now legendary holiday album, A Christmas Gift For You From Phil Spector. As strange as it may sound today, in the final month of the greatest year in pop music history, that album had largely been forgotten.

Casey said that project was Spector’s “white elephant.” He spent an insane amount of time and money making it, recording every track countless times until they met his mental image of the perfect sound. He wanted to make THE classic Christmas album, one that every American would know for generations to come.

However, history got in the way of Spector’s dreams for the album. It was released on November 22, 1963, the day that President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, Texas. In the nation’s season of mourning, record buyers were not in the mood for bright, happy Christmas songs. The album bombed. “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” was the single sent to radio stations, and it had the same fate, disappearing quickly from the airwaves.

By 1984 the album was essentially out of print, according to Casey. I’ve learned that wasn’t exactly true. It had been re-released several times, including in both 1983 and 1984, but never generated much sales. Casey said that finding a copy in 1984 was extremely difficult, and they were highly prized among a small group of collectors. Again, I don’t think this represents reality, but it does to speak to how little of a cultural impact the album had made to this point.

Times were about to change, though.

Earlier in 1984, “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” was the soundtrack for the opening scene of Steven Spielberg’s Gremlins, the fourth-biggest grossing movie of that terrific box office year.

In 1986 Darlene Love performed the song on Late Night with David Letterman, a tradition that would continue for 29 years.[1]

A year later, A Christmas Gift For You From Phil Spector was released on compact disc. This was perfect timing, as the 1990s brought a dramatic increase in the number of radio stations that played holiday music between Thanksgiving and Christmas. By the turn of the millennium, Love, The Ronettes, and The Crystals all had tracks from Spector’s album that had become December radio mainstays.

Also in 1987, a U2 cover of “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” was included on the A Very Special Christmas album that raised funds for Special Olympics. That helped (re)introduce the song to my generation. It is also the only cover of Love’s original that is worth listening to.[2]

All these developments turned a nearly forgotten track on a buried album into a holiday classic.

I can’t be unbiased about this song. As I’ve said in past holiday seasons, it is my favorite modern Christmas record. Everything about it is perfect. Love’s vocals are a volcanic surge of emotion. She sings as if she can bridge the gap to her lost love with her voice alone. Countering Love are the backing vocalists – including Cher – who sing so causally that they almost seem dismissive. Every note is filled with sadness and yearning, yet also with happiness and hope. That is the true genius of this song, how it takes that mix of joy and pain that is present during the holidays and turns it into a glorious, three-minute pop tune.

As Billboard revised its rules over the years, Christmas music began hitting the mainstream singles chart regularly in the mid–2010s. December 13, 2014 was the first week “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” registered on the pop chart. It is now a perennial entry on the Hot 100, reaching #15 earlier this year. Given the rise of Brenda Lee’s “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” to number one this year, there’s an excellent chance that Love’s track has a higher peak ahead as well.

Rolling Stone magazine rated “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” as the greatest rock ’n’ roll Christmas song of all time in 2010. They weren’t wrong. Spector got his wish. It took nearly 30 years, but eventually A Christmas Gift For You From Phil Spector became a bonafide classic. 10/10

I was going to share Love’s first appearance on Late Night With David Letterman to close this post. But, in a true Christmas miracle, earlier this week Letterman posted a video of Love reuniting with him. The piece ends with her 29th rendition of the song with Paul Shaffer.

Merry Christmas everybody!

Chart Week: November 14, 1981
Song: “Never Too Much” – Luther Vandross
Chart Position: #37, 6th week on the chart, first week in the Top 40. Peaked at #33 for two weeks.

Happy Thanksgiving week to you all! A quick entry based on a Casey anecdote about how a pop artist paid the bills before he started making hits of his own.

The Voice of a Generation. The Velvet Voice. Soundtrack to more babies being made than any artist of his era.

Those are a few of the nicknames Luther Ronzoni Vandross Jr. picked up over his career.[1] That last one is unofficial, of course.

“Never Too Much” was indeed the first single of his solo career. But Luther had been on the charts before. He was a highly valued backup singer to some of the biggest stars of the Seventies, lending vocals to tracks by Donna Summer, Roberta Flack and Donnie Hathaway, Bette Midler, Barbra Streisand, Carly Simon, and Chaka Khan. For my readers, the song you probably heard his voice on first was David Bowie’s “Young Americans.”

Luther did more than sing backup to other stars, though. He wrote and sang advertising jingles for a variety of major companies, including Pepsi, Juicy Fruit gum, Miller beer, and NBC. As I was looking into his jingle career, I found this amazing ad for Gino’s pizza. Which, unfortunately, will not embed in this post. Please, click the link.

There’s an equally amazing video on Facebook where Luther talks about the making of that ad.

In this countdown, Casey mentioned some of those ads Luther’s voice appeared on, and suggested all that work had made him both famous and very comfortable financially, an assertion the Facebook video seems to confirm. That wasn’t enough, though.

“The money is fine,” Casey quoted Luther as saying, “but sometimes I want to sing a whole song!”

Luther got his chance and capitalized on it, becoming one of the most successful soul singers of the next two decades.

He wrote, composed, arranged, and produced this track, along with most of his debut album. From the first notes, Luther carved out a unique space in music. “Never Too Much” is a cool mashup of contemporary soul and yacht rock, largely thanks to its impeccable production. Every sound is polished for maximum shininess. There’s a jazzy quality to how Luther sings the verses. The song is not too far off from the music George Benson was making around the same time. Luther is always in the pocket with his vocals, never showing off or pushing too far, which was his great strength. His voice was warm, comforting, sophisticated, and smooth as silk.

“Never Too Much” was #1 on the soul chart for two weeks, the first of his seven Soul/R&B number ones.[2] There were bigger things to come for Luther on the pop chart later in his career. This was fine way to introduce himself to the world as a singer capable of carrying an entire song on his own. 7/10

Chart Week: November 5, 1983
Song: “Automatic Man” – Michael Sembello
Chart Position: #34, 7th week on the chart. This was the song’s peak.

A quick RFTS to fill the place of the Friday Playlist as we are taking an adult fall break for the next few days.

The 100th entry in this series is getting very close. I’ve been reading through most of the previous posts, both to refresh my memory and to look for trends. When we hit the century mark, I’ll pull together some stats and observations to share.

For this week’s edition, we hit a familiar topic: a forgotten song by an artist generally assumed to be a One Hit Wonder.

Michael Sembello was a musical prodigy.[1] By his mid-teens he was already serving as a session guitarist for established stars. When he was 17, Stevie Wonder invited him to contribute to two songs on Fulfillingness’ First Finale. Two years later Sembello was a featured artist on Wonder’s mega-classic Songs in the Key of Life, playing on every track and earning a songwriting credit for “Saturn.” He continued to work with Wonder through the remainder of the Seventies. He also wrote and produced for other artists, including Diana Ross and Michael Jackson.

In 1983, he recorded his first solo album, Bossa Nova Hotel. Through a series of industry connections one of its cuts, “Maniac,” was added to the soundtrack for Flashdance. You may have heard it.

“Maniac” hit #1 for two weeks, was nominated for both Grammy and Academy awards, and landed at #9 on the final Hot 100 of 1983. For better or worse, depending on your perspective, it is one of the most recognizable and unforgettable songs of the decade.

“Maniac” was officially a single from the Flashdance LP, as Bossa Nova Hotel did not hit record stores until September 1983. Sembello warned people that he was not going to release another song that sounded like it. He wanted listeners to forget about his big hit and instead focus on his wide-ranging talent.

That should have been a clue that his next single would be a dud.

This song…oooof. It is cheesy as all get-out. At the same time, it is so blandly anonymous its cheese almost doesn’t register. I’ve listened to it several times this week, and each time my brain thinks it is hearing “Number One” by Chaz Jankel, one of the featured songs in the movie Real Genius. Sembello’s voice is less processed here than “Maniac,” and it comes across slighter because of it. Whether you liked “Maniac” or not, it was a song that grabbed you and forced its way into your head. Nothing about it is compelling enough to register and create long-term memories. It didn’t help that “Automatic Man” lacked the connection to the visuals of Jennifer Beals’ (and her dance double) scenes in Flashdance that “Maniac” had.[2]

The video, though? It is amazing! I had never seen it before this week. I’m am prepared to say it is one of the greatest videos ever made. There is just so much confusing and bizarre stuff going on that you can’t look away. Kind of the total opposite of the song.

This was the final charting single of Sembello’s solo career, and it dropped out of the Top 40 after just two weeks. He continued to work with other artists, most notably Chaka Khan and New Edition. But he never re-captured that magic from the summer of 1983. One critic called Sembello “…Michael McDonald with a rhythm machine, but that would be unnecessarily cruel to McDonald. And the rhythm machine." Well, I think that was unnecessarily cruel. Sembello did some cool things in his career. This song was not one of them. 3/10

Chart Week: October 30, 1982
Song: “I.G.Y. (What A Beautiful World)” – Donald Fagen
Chart Position: #36, 4th week on the chart, debut week in the Top 40. Peaked at #26 for three weeks in November and December.

Pop music tends to be pretty limited thematically. Amongst the bazillion or so songs about love, lust, and heartbreak, occasionally one will emerge from left field about a topic that makes no sense as the basis for a radio hit.

The first single of Donald Fagen’s solo career, “I.G.Y. (What A Beautiful World)” was inspired by the International Geophysical Year, an 18-month event that stretched across 1957–58. It brought together scientists from both sides of the Cold War divide with the hope of leading the world forward to a more connected and peaceful future.

Nothing says rock ’n’ roll like scientific discovery, amiright?

When “I.G.Y.” was released, my limited knowledge of the Fifties was based solely upon watching Leave It To Beaver re-runs and old sci-fi flicks on late-night TV, hardly a comprehensive source of Eisenhower-era knowledge. Whatever view I had of that decade, the images this song inspired fit right into it.

I suppose my attraction to “I.G.Y.” was because it is full of bright-eyed optimism about the prospect of an amazing, space-age future. Since I was into computers and other cool Eighties electronic stuff, I, too, envisioned an improved world thanks to technological advancement. In my 11-year-old mind, if Atari ran the world there would be no Cold War. And what a beautiful world it would be if my mom somehow scraped together the money to buy me an Apple II computer!

Listening to the song as an adult, I wonder if I got it all wrong.

In 1982 I didn’t know a thing about Donald Fagen. Certainly not that the songs he wrote with Walter Becker for Steely Dan were noted for their ironic, cynical lyrics. An approach that was the exact opposite of the warm, nostalgic trip I assumed “I.G.Y.” to be.

For a moment I wondered if this song wasn’t, instead, taking a shot at the late Fifties. Was Fagen mocking the naive belief that science could solve all our problems? Was he pointing out all the ways that the best intentions of that time had failed? Was he critiquing the view that the world would be a better place if everyone just followed America’s twin pillars of Christianity and Capitalism?

I was leaning that way until I listened to the song a few more times. I was again struck by the music. Those clear tones in the horns. The whimsical qualities of the keyboards and harmonica. The little blips and blurps sprinkled throughout. Those elements combine to build a futuristic soundscape that wouldn’t be out of place in one of those Fifties sci-fi movies.

Yes, there are some scathing lyrics, mostly aimed at the American First viewpoint that was prominent at the time. Fagen has said that he discovered pretty quickly that the idillic depiction of the Fifties was a sham, crafted to hide things like racism, sexism, inequality, and fear of nuclear war.

Still, I do think that Fagen was looking back fondly to his childhood. It was an opportunity for him to recall the days before his cynical gene presented itself, when he viewed the world around him, and the future, with wonder rather than skepticism.

I would liken that to our generation looking back to the early days of the Internet, when there seemed to be limitless possibilities for how it would enhance our lives. A computer and modem in every home was the 2000s version of Fagen’s spandex jackets for everyone. A quarter-century down the road we see how the Internet has been as destructive as additive to our lives. But it is still fun to recall the excitement of your first time dialing up and logging on.

I was too young to understand that battle between cynicism and optimism when this song was climbing the chart. Perhaps it is that juxtaposition that has made it stand up over the years to me. It is a reminder that miracle cures sometimes have unintended consequences. And also to never forget the innocence and hopefulness that characterized our younger days. 7/10

Chart Week: September 29, 1984
Song: “On the Dark Side” – John Cafferty & The Beaver Brown Band
Chart Position: #24, 19th week on the chart (charted twice, see below). Peaked at #7 for two weeks in October/November.

The history of pop music is filled with opportunists. If an artist or musical style makes a big splash, you can be sure that soundalikes (or lookalikes) will soon follow.

At first glance that seems to be the case with “On the Dark Side.” I bet almost everyone who has ever heard it assumed, upon first listen, that it was Bruce Springsteen. From vocal tone and style to the sound of the band, almost everything about this track recalls Springsteen, specifically his song “She’s the One.”[1]

In the fall of 1984 it made sense for a record like this to become a hit. Bruce was in the midst of his leap from critical darling with a cult following to becoming one of the biggest stars in music. “Dancing in the Dark,” which peaked at #2 earlier in the summer, had just dropped from the Hot 100. “Cover Me,” the second single off of Born in the USA, moved into the top 10 this week. It was the perfect moment for record companies to push Springsteen soundalikes.

No one sounded more like The Boss than John Cafferty. Springsteen and Cafferty have eerily similar deep, gruff, raspy voices. Their bands both played classic, good-time, barroom rock ’n’ roll. You were as likely to hear a sax as a guitar in each band’s solo breaks. Hell, both were predominantly white groups with Black sax players. The acts were even named alike: Bruce Springsteen and the E. Street Band vs. John Cafferty & the Beaver Brown Band.

Ironically all those similarities kept Cafferty from earning a recording deal for years, as labels thought he and his band sounded too much like Bruce. But once Springsteen broke through, that became an advantage rather than a hindrance.

However, in this week’s countdown, Casey would have you believe that it was a forgotten movie getting a second life on cable TV that propelled this song onto the charts.

“On the Dark Side” was first released in 1983 as the featured single from Eddie and the Cruisers, a film about a fictional band with a mysterious lead singer. While John Cafferty & the Beaver Brown Band sang every word and played every note, the record was credited to the imaginary Eddie and the Cruisers.

The movie was a box office disaster, garnering poor reviews and lasting just three weeks in theaters. “On the Dark Side” did better, grinding out nine weeks on the chart, but it never got higher than #64.

The film soon wound up on HBO, where something about it connected with the audience and it got good ratings. Its VHS tape was doing decent business as well.

Scotti Bros., the label that published the soundtrack, noticed this ripple of popularity and re-released “On the Dark Side,” this time giving John Cafferty and his pals proper credit. Two months after entering the Hot 100 for the second time, it peaked at #7 for two weeks.

That HBO/home video traction combined with the success of the single led Embassy Pictures to send the movie back to theaters in the fall of 1984. But, again, no one watched, and it was yanked after one week.[2]

I thought it was interesting that Casey suggested that the single’s success was due more to those folks who were watching the movie at home than to Cafferty’s uncanny vocal resemblance to Bruce Springsteen. I suppose that’s the angle Scotti Bros. and the band’s representation wanted to push. Americans love a good second chance story, so it made sense to play up that angle of this song’s unlikely path to popularity rather than acknowledge the elephant in the room.

I was just becoming a Springsteen fan in 1984, so while I heard the obvious common elements, I didn’t get all fired up about Cafferty ripping Bruce off. Years later, when I heard the entire Born to Run album for the first time, and that opening section of “She’s the One” came on, I was floored. “HOLY SHIT!” I thought. “PEOPLE WERE RIGHT, THEY TOTALLY RIPPED OFF BRUCE!”

It’s probably not fair to call this a complete rip off. After its opening section it takes a different path than “She’s the One.” But everything else about it remains firmly within the Springsteen tent. While the lyrics might lack the specific literary details that The Boss was famous for, they still bump up against his territory. There’s a big, honkin’ sax solo. The drums sound much like Max Weinberg’s style of play.[3] If anything, “On the Dark Side” sounds like Springsteen cranked to 11, with every aspect taken it its absolute max.

The question I ask myself today is, if you eliminate those Springsteen connections, forget about whether this is a ripoff or a cynical marketing exercise, pretend that you’ve never heard the insanely incredible experience that is “She’s the One,” is this still a good record? I say yes.

Those opening piano notes immediately grab your attention. The bass and jangling guitar coming in together build terrific tension, which is broken by the first snap of the snare. Then it turns into a pretty straight forward banger. It’s easy to sing along with Cafferty. It’s hard not to clap your hands, tap your toes, or bang your steering wheel along to the rhythm.[4] As the track fades, I don’t think it leaves you with any great emotional release or epiphany. I do know that your heart should be beating a little faster. Which is the ultimate goal of most rock stars, whether they are Bruce Springsteen or opportunists chasing a trend. 7/10

As it was such a big part of this piece, it seems a shame not to include a video for “She’s the One,” too. While this live performance has a different intro, which subtracts from the commonalities between songs, I’ve always thought this performance was unreal. You see a band that is totally locked in. It’s no surprise that other bar bands on the east coast were chasing what Bruce and his band were doing.

Chart Week: September 19, 1981
Song: “General Hospi-tale” – The Afternoon Delights
Chart Position: #35, 9th week on the chart. Peaked at #33 for two weeks.

I’ve been reading through the RFTS archives and was surprised that I’ve never written properly about a novelty song, stuff like “Pac-Man Fever” or “The Curly Shuffle,” for example. I probably should have held off until one of those popped up on an old AT40, but this record was so strange that it required my first novelty song post.

We can’t talk about this track without reviewing how important daytime soap operas once were. In the age before the wide adoption of cable TV, your only afternoon viewing options on sick days or visits to grandma’s were the three hours of soaps shown on each network.

My mom’s mom was a Days of Our Lives devotee. That meant for the hour it aired, shit shut down in grandma’s house. The grandkids had to either shut the hell up or go outside. Grandpa had the good sense to take a post-lunch nap each day. She watched Days because the NBC station was the best signal they could grab with their gigantic antenna at their house out in the middle of nowhere. She watched the other NBC soaps, too, but Days was the show that got grandma’s full attention. You risked her wrath if you interrupted in any way.

The biggest soap of that era, though, was ABC’s General Hospital. At its peak, over 13 million people watched it each day. It was a launching pad for Rick Springfield’s career.[1] Fellow GH alum Jack Wagner could wind up in this series at some point. It is one of three daytime soaps still airing on traditional TV today, and celebrated its 60th anniversary earlier this year.

Most importantly, it gave us the biggest storyline in soap history: Luke and Laura. I never watched GH, and was in the fourth-through-sixth grades at its prime, yet even I knew all about Luke and Laura. You should read up on their storyline. It was bonkers, even for a soap. Despite their relationship beginning with a sexual assault, Luke and Laura’s union endured, and eventually crossed over into the pop culture mainstream like no other daytime soap characters did before or since. When Luke and Laura got married, 30 million people watched. THIRTY MILLION!!! For comparison, NBC’s Sunday Night Football was the highest rated series on TV last year, averaging a little over 18 million viewers per week. I know, different times, more choices, etc. Regardless of all that, General Hospital was a ratings behemoth. Soon every soap was looking for their own L&L.

Naturally outsiders tried to capitalize on GH’s success. A group of songwriters and singers in Boston thought a pop single about the show might be a hit. In a truly wild choice, they presented the record in a proto-rap style.

It was pretty awful. My first thought when hearing it again was of Sam Malone rapping an editorial during his brief foray into TV sports.

I doubt the housewives and shut-ins who were General Hospital’s prime audience were ready for rap in 1981. Even vanilla rapping like this was probably frighteningly close to “Black music from New York” for a lot of folks in the heartland. I just can’t see my grandma tapping her toes and humming along when Casey played it on Sundays.

However, GH was so big that the song got some airplay. It spent five weeks in the Top 40 and peaked at #23 on the R&B chart. I find it hard to believe Black radio stations actually played it, but what do I know?

The lyrics and delivery of them are clunky. I’m not sure any of the people who made it had actually listened to a true rap song. The music is cheesy and overwhelming. It wants to be funky, but the end result was profoundly un-funky.

And the group’s name? Get the fuck out of here.

You can make an argument that this was the third hip hop song to crack the Top 40 after “Rapper’s Delight” and “Rapture.” So maybe it has some historical significance?

And, TBH as the kids say, since white people trying to rap sounded like this song for the next two decades, does that make it a highly influential piece of music, even if it influenced people to produce shit?

No, that can’t be right. It’s a bad song. It deserves no props. The charm that carried other novelty tracks of that era is completely missing. On the rare occasions when I hear it, I quickly switch away. There’s a reason it was buried in the slag heap of historically bad music, and that had nothing to do with the waning popularity of soaps. Some may find it silly and harmless. I think it’s trash. 1/10

Chart Week: August 29, 1981
Song: “For Your Eyes Only” – Sheena Easton
Chart Position: #29, 6th week on the chart. Peaked at #4 for for weeks in October and November.

I’ve heard a glut of 1981 countdowns recently. To be honest, it’s a little much. The quirkiness of that era grates rather quickly upon repeated exposure.

However, I did learn something new and amazing in the process.

On a countdown from earlier in the summer of ’81, a bonus track outside the Top 40 added to the new recording was Sheena Easton’s “For Your Eyes Only.” I didn’t like that song much as a kid; I have no love for it as an adult. I believe I was cooking dinner while listening and focused on my work rather than the music.

When it ended the announcer mentioned that it was, of course, the theme to the James Bond picture of the same name. He also stated that Blondie had recorded a song for the movie with the exact same title.

Wait, WHAT?!?! Blondie recorded something for a 007 flick? How had I never heard that before?

After dinner I raced to the computer and started searching. Turns out, the story was true. The production team behind the twelfth Bond film indeed requested that Blondie perform the title song. They wanted the band to record a piece written by Bill Conti, who composed the picture’s score. I bet you’ll recognize another of his themes.

Blondie thought this was a terrible idea. They wanted to write their own music. So they did. They submitted their recording, but it was promptly rejected. The film’s producers pivoted to the rising Scottish artist Sheena Easton, asking her to interpret Conti’s original effort. The rest is history.

Easton’s track peaked at #4 in the US, #8 in the UK, and was nominated for an Academy Award. The producers liked Easton so much that she became the first, and still only artist to appear performing during the movie’s title sequence. Star Roger Moore said she was sexier than any of the Bond Girls in the film.

Blondie put their version of “For Your Eyes Only” on their 1982 album The Hunter, but never released it as a single. The album received some of the worst reviews of their career, it didn’t sell well, and soon the band split up.

Blondie’s record is interesting. You can hear them trying to connect with the vibe of James Bond, especially in the guitars. And I can 100% envision it as the music played under the title sequence. I sense some common threads to a few of the modern Bond themes that are perfectly fine, but basically serve as background music to the visual playgrounds those scenes have become.

However, it also feels flat, lacking the energy and sex appeal of Blondie’s biggest hits. Their idea of cool didn’t really match Bond’s. It doesn’t sound like a hit to me, even if it had made the soundtrack. Let’s call it a 5 and guess it peaks in the 20’s on AT40 had it been the official theme.

Sheena Easton’s tune, on the other hand, kind of sucks. It’s not her fault. While the film was going for a grittier tone to replace the campy direction the franchise took in the 1970s, this ballad is pure, old people pop. It is overly big and dramatic, and often veers into Cheeseland. I’m not sure why they thought a 22-year-old woman was the right person to sing about a 54-year-old spy. Easton has a nice voice, but it’s not big enough to match what this song asks for. You can hear her straining on its grandest moments. It needed some semi-washed up star of the late Sixties who could belt out those big notes. I can’t imagine Deborah Harry singing it, either. It could not be farther away from what she stood for, or what her voice was capable of.

Conti said he had two other singers in mind when he wrote the piece: Donna Summer and Dusty Springfield. Summer would have been an interesting choice. She certainly had the voice, but I’m not sure she was a good match for the vibe either. Especially since she was still considered the Queen of Disco in 1981. But Dusty Springfield? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! It would have been a perfect, late-career revival for her. Alas…

The Conti/Sheena track gets a 2.

Most of my research for this post came from a single article, written in 2020. I had to laugh when the writer suggested “For Your Eyes Only” was the highlight of Easton’s career. Keep in mind she hit #1 in the US with “Morning Train (Nine to Five).” And, as my two brothers-in-music John N and Ed L immediately noted, had this guy not heard of “Strut” or “Sugar Walls”?

A highlight? Sure. But THE highlight? I don’t think so.

I talk a lot about how the summer of 1984 was the greatest moment in pop music history, normally backing that up with examples of some of the songs that were on the chart that summer.

As I was listening to a 1984 countdown a couple weeks ago, it struck me again how freaking solid those 40 songs were. There were a few duds, as there are in any countdown. But there were also a ton of timeless tracks that still get heavy airplay on Eighties stations today.

So why not go through a countdown from that summer to see just how loaded it was?

All my music ratings are highly subjective. In this case, I’m taking it to a whole new level of stupidity, rating each song on a highly arbitrary scale that factors in my like/dislike, how big of a hit it was at the time, if it is viewed as that act’s biggest hit, and then if it had a lasting cultural impact. I can’t say that I’ll weigh each of these factors equally from song to song. I’ll rank them on a scale from one-to-five, five being The Unforgettables.

I’m not sure if my ratings would hold up if given any serious, scientific scrutiny. We’re here to have fun, so don’t overthink them.

Here is the chart for the week ending August 11, 1984. That week I would have been in the midst of my month-long visit to my grandparents’ homes in central Kansas, listening on my Pioneer boom box.

(I’ve copied/pasted these straight from the terrific Top40weekly.com site and kept their formatting because I don’t want to fix it all.)

1 – GHOSTBUSTERS –•– Ray Parker, Jr. Biggest song of his career, theme for one of the biggest movies of the decade. Kitchy and silly, but it still gets played, both ironically and un-ironically. 5

2 – WHEN DOVES CRY –•– Prince Biggest song of the year from the biggest artist of the year. 5

3 – STATE OF SHOCK –•– The Jacksons with Mick Jagger When you think of Michael Jackson, The Jacksons, or Mick Jagger, this will not be very high on the list. All three of them had better songs in 1984. The ending is very cringey. 2

4 – WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT –•– Tina Turner The song that kicked off the greatest comeback in music history, and the most iconic song of an iconic career. 5

5 – SAD SONGS (Say So Much) –•– Elton John Maybe his best song of the 80s? Top three for sure. 3

6 – STUCK ON YOU –•– Lionel Richie The weakest of his big hits from 1983–84. 2

7 – DANCING IN THE DARK –•– Bruce Springsteen The song that made Bruce BRUCE to the masses. 5

8 – I CAN DREAM ABOUT YOU –•– Dan Hartman I love this song. But I doubt that’s the case for most people. I’m sadly calling it a 3 since I might be the only person in the world who still gets excited when I hear it.

9 – INFATUATION –•– Rod Stewart I bet the video had whatever supermodel he was dating at the time in it. It sure sounds slight and of its time now. Pretty low on his career best list, too. 2

10 – SUNGLASSES AT NIGHT –•– Corey Hart One of these days I’ll write about Corey Hart, who had a better and longer career than most people realize. This is THE song from his career, though. It is a must on any 80s compilation. 5

11 – BREAKIN’… THERE’S NO STOPPING US –•– Ollie & Jerry As with Dan Hartman above, a song I love but was never sticky in the culture. Another sad 3.

12 – MISSING YOU –•– John Waite This is a great song and the biggest of Waite’s solo career. Not quite iconic, but pretty freaking good. 4

13 – IF EVER YOU’RE IN MY ARMS AGAIN –•– Peabo Bryson Mid–80s, lite R&B schmaltz. 1

14 – LEGS –•– ZZ Top When a good video on MTV could make even bearded good ol’ boys from Texas into pop stars. 4

15 – PANAMA –•– Van Halen “Jump” was the bigger hit, but this was the better song. Arguably the band’s peak. 4

16 – EYES WITHOUT A FACE –•– Billy Idol Great track, but “Rebel Yell” or “White Wedding” are what you think of first when you think of Billy. 4

17 – ROUND AND ROUND –•– Ratt Arguably the song that ushered in the glam metal sound that was huge in the back half of the ‘80s. The video that was very popular with dickheads like me. 4

18 – JUMP (For My Love) –•– The Pointer Sisters Nice song, but I bet you think of “Neutron Dance” or “I’m So Excited” way before this. 3

19 – IF THIS IS IT –•– Huey Lewis & The News Did you know they had three-straight singles that peaked at #6 in 1984? Did they make a deal with the devil?!?! Fortunately they had a much bigger hit a year later that keeps us from having to decide which of those ’84 tracks was their finest overall. 4

20 – SHE BOP –•– Cyndi Lauper Good enough song, but her third-best track of 1984. 3

21 – SHE’S MINE –•– Steve Perry I was really into Perry’s first solo album back then. Can’t say the songs beyond “Oh Sherrie” hold up. 2

22 – ROCK ME TONITE –•– Billy Squier As it gave us one of the worst, most cringey videos of all time, it has a special place in history and gets an extra bump. 4

23 – LIGHTS OUT –•– Peter Wolf The first solo hit by the J Geil’s Band’s lead singer. Not super memorable. 2

24 – SEXY GIRL –•– Glenn Frey Yuck. 1

25 – THE WARRIOR –•– Scandal Featuring One of the great one-hit-wonders of the decade. Great song, great video. 5

26 – I’M FREE (Heaven Helps The Man) –•– Kenny Loggins I shared not too long ago that this was the best track on the Footloose soundtrack. Our third 3 that makes me sad.

27 – THE GLAMOROUS LIFE –•– Sheila E. Checks every box you need to check to earn a 5, including being written by Prince.

28 – SELF CONTROL –•– Laura Branigan Sorry, if it ain’t “Gloria” no one is going to remember it. 2

29 – ALIBIS –•– Sergio Mendes White dude yowling pop (Joe Pizzulo sang the lead). 2

30 – ALL OF YOU –•– Julio Iglesias & Diana Ross Oof. 1

31 – LEAVE A TENDER MOMENT ALONE –•– Billy Joel Billy cranked out a lot of hits from his An Innocent Man album. The fact this was the only one not to reach the Top 20 is telling. 2

32 TURN TO YOU –•– The Go-Go’s Pales in comparison to their classic hits. 3

33 DYNAMITE –•– Jermaine Jackson I have a big, soft spot in my heart for this song, mostly because of its goofy ass video. 3

34 DRIVE –•– The Cars What Cars song you think of first is very dependent on your age. Not one of my personal favorites so 3 to me, 4 to the world.

35 LET’S GO CRAZY –•– Prince & The Revolution Prince was so not fucking around in 1984. 5

36 WHEN YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES –•– Night Ranger My personal favorite Night Ranger song. But, come on, mention their name and there’s another song from 1984 that EVERYONE thinks of first. 4 to me, 3 to the world.

37 CRUEL SUMMER –•– Bananarama I really struggled with this one. I can’t decide whether it is a classic of the decade, or just another fun song tied to a very popular movie. I’ll split the difference and call it a 4 but open to arguments that it is either a 3 or 5.

38 ALMOST PARADISE –•– Mike Reno & Ann Wilson I have some good friends that love this song. I think it’s trash. But it was from Footloose and a lot of people probably slow-danced to it with people that were very important to them, so I’ll give it a 2.

39 MY, OH MY –•– Slade Zero memory. Zero cultural relevance. 1

40 RIGHT BY YOUR SIDE –•– Eurythmics The Eurythmics were a great band and I don’t think they ever made a bad song. But even Mr. Big Music Brain me forgot about this one. 2 because I bet no one else remembers it either.