I only have time for a quick blog entry today, as I still have a lot of preparation to do for my band’s big benefit show at the Kessler Theater in Dallas tomorrow. Diamondbag is normally a Neil Diamond tribute band, but we’ve learned an entire set of new wave classics for this special prom-themed show. I ordered a “Frankie Say Relax” t-shirt from the interwebs to wear on stage, but it hasn’t arrived yet and I need to have some backup ’80s fashion options. I am now off to a vintage clothing store in search of some parachute pants and a Members Only jacket. Wish me luck in my fashion quest, and please enjoy Diamondbag’s version of the classic Buggles tune “Video Killed The Radio Star”. And yes, we are opening the show with it. I hope I don’t have to explain why…
Diamondbag: “Video Killed The Radio Star” (Horn/Downes/Woolley)
“The Lost Boys: Hard-To-Find ’80s Albums” gives you exactly what the title implies: a rare or out-of-print album from the ’80s in its entirety. Some will be from CD, but most will have been lovingly transferred from pristine vinyl culled directly from the Analog Kid’s vast collection. Whatever album I choose, it will be one that you can’t easily find a physical copy for sale on Amazon or in your local record store (if you even have one anymore). Death…by stereo!
Weird confession: Loverboy’s Keep It Up was the first album I ever purchased in two different formats. Keep It Up came out in the summer of 1983, and as usual I was spending the summer in California with my Dad. He had a great stereo system, and I’m sure the elderly residents below our sublet studio apartment on Balboa Island became way too familiar with Mike Reno’s desire to find some hot girls in love.
One thing Dad didn’t have was a working tape deck, but I had a Walkman to play all of the cassettes that had traveled with me from Texas. That worked out fine until mid-summer, when I was scheduled to head up to the Valley for a few days to visit my grandparents. I listened to Keep It Up at least twice a day– what was I going to do for three days without the vinyl?
Simple solution: on the drive up to the Valley, I had Dad stop at The Wherehouse so that I could buy the cassette of Keep ItUp. It was even on sale for $5.99 (why do I remember such ridiculous details? The mind is a weird thing!). My Loverboy problem was solved, but I would soon face a new crisis during my visit: the flu.
And I’m not talking about a little flu. I’m talking about the delusional, don’t-know-which-way-is-up, recurring-visions-of-the-cast-of-“Family Ties”-competing-in-the-Winter-Olympics flu. I was in really bad shape, and two songs kept running through my brain on constant auto-loop: “Sweet Dreams” from the Eurythmics (I kept seeing that damn cow!), and Doug Johnson’s hypnotic keyboard riff from “Prime Of Your Life.” I guess my flu must have been a synthetic virus. (Sorry, been watching too much Fallon lately)
One other note about Keep It Up: it contains “Queen Of The Broken Hearts,” which in my opinion is the best Loverboy song of all time. For some reason, the band has never included “Queen Of The Broken Hearts” on any of its greatest hits compilations despite the fact that it crushes “Lovin’ Every Minute Of It” like a grape.
Note: if any of you are wondering why my grandparents didn’t have a record player, the truth is that they did. But it was an old Radio Shack rip-off console with speakers the size of a box of Cracker Jacks, and I wasn’t going to risk damage to my prized vinyl copy of Keep It Up by exposing it to such obviously inferior equipment. Yep, I was officially a record snob by the glorious age of 15. By the way, I don’t think I ever saw my grandparents use that record player– it just sat in the same spot untouched for years. They did had a small stack of LPs next to the stereo, and a copy of Nat King Cole’s Love Is the Thing was at the front of that stack for the first 16 years of my life. I found a beautiful used copy of that record a few years ago, and I bought it in memory of my Grandma.
As you probably know by now, The Analog Kid lives for b-sides and non-album cuts. In this continuing series, I will share some of my favorite EPs and 12″ singles from over the years in their entirety. And since it’s digital, you don’t have to worry about correctly setting the turntable speed to or 33⅓ or 45!
The import 12″ for The Police’s Wrapped Around Your Finger was one of my very first 12″ single purchases. I already had the Synchronicity album, and I had also purchased the 45 for “Every Breath You Take” to get my hands on the classic “Murder By Numbers” b-side. I found the Wrapped Around Your Finger 12″ at the Sound Warehouse on Belt Line Road in Dallas, and one listen to the amazing “I Burn For You” permanently cemented my status as a b-side addict for life.
Of course, “I Burn For You” had actually been released on the Brimstone & Treacle soundtrack the previous year, but I didn’t even know the movie existed at that point. I thought “I Burn For You” was a Synchronicity outtake, and I was pretty much convinced that The Police must be the best band in the world if they could leave a song that good off of an album.
I was wrong about “I Burn For You” being left off Synchronicity, but I was 100% correct about the best band in the world part.
The Police: Wrapped Around Your Finger
A&M Records, 1983
1. “Wrapped Around Your Finger” (Sting)
2. “Someone To Talk To” (Summers)
3, “Message In A Bottle” [Live] (Sting)
4. “I Burn For You” (Sting)
Epilogue: I thought it was really cool that you could actually read the time on Sting’s digital watch on the cover of Wrapped Around Your Finger. I just pulled out the original 12″ from my collection, and now I can barely even see the damn watch itself. Blerg!
Every Tuesday, the Analog Kid blog goes back in time and features some groovy R&B/soul songs from a specific year. Sometimes you’ll hear songs from individual artists, and other times you’ll get an entire full-length classic LP ripped directly from the Analog Kid’s vast vinyl vault. Warning: by R&B/soul, I also mean disco. I could go all Village People on your ass at any given moment, so just be ready!
Why yes, I would be very happy to take you down to Funkytown. How nice of you to ask!
This continuing series on the Analog Kid blog takes a look back at some of the best AOR songs from the ’70s and ’80s. All of these songs were radio favorites from my teenage years in Texas, but for some reason you just don’t seem to hear them very much any more. I hope to change that.
Texas Radio & The Big Beat: 1985
It’s 1985. The biggest priority in my life is recording the 10:30 PM airing of Star Trek on VHS. My social life revolves around my job as the guy who runs the drive-thru at the Plano Burger King. I finally go on my first real date. I see U2 live for the first time . I graduate from Plano Senior High School. I turn 18 and spend my birthday watching Live Aid. I start college at the University of Texas. My favorite beer is Michelob Light. UT opens its football season against Missouri, and I do not even bother to attend (this will soon change). Five or six girls gather in my dorm room every day at noon to watch Days Of Our Lives. I really like college. My roommate eats nothing but Chunky Sirloin Burger soup and generic Minyards pop tarts for six months. I receive my first CD player as a Christmas gift. I somehow manage a 3.2 GPA my first semester, even though I have no real recollection of going to class. And of course, I listen to a ton of music.
“Diana” is one of those great b-sides that somehow managed to get almost as much airplay as its a-side on local Dallas radio. OK, so maybe it’s no “Hey Hey What Can I Do,” but it’s still a fun little pop song that remained a staple of Adams’ live set up until Diana’s sad passing.
“Invincible” peaked at #10 on the Billboard Hot 100 during the summer of 1985, and was actually Pat Benatar’s last Top 10 single in the United States. “Invincible” was originally recorded for the cult classic The Legend Of Billie Jean, a fact that Pat begrudgingly acknowledges every time she plays the song live by stating, “This song is from the soundtrack of the worst movie ever made.” In my eyes, nothing involving the gorgeous Helen Slater can ever be bad, so I’ll have to disagree with Pat on this one. Oh shit, I just remembered Supergirl. Ouch.
I’m not going to claim that “Spies Like Us” is Paul McCartney’s finest moment, but I will argue that it is at least 100 times better than “Ebony And Ivory” (and a hell of a lot more fun). The movie itself gets a bad rap, too– if you haven’t seen Spies Like Us in a while, you should give it another chance.
I bought Astra on cassette when it was first released in November of 1985, and I won’t lie: I really hated it. I think I found out that Steve Howe was no longer in the band when I unwrapped the cassette, and perhaps that influenced my initial impression. That tape sat on my shelf and remained virtually unplayed for years, and it eventually just disappeared. When I started collecting vinyl in the mid-’90s, I found a mint condition copy of Astra and gave it another spin, fully expecting to dislike it as much as I had back in 1985. I dropped the needle on “Go,” and immediately thought, “This sounds a lot better than I remember.” That held true for the whole record, which is now one of my favorite Asia albums. I’d like to formally apologize to John Wetton and Geoff Downes, and also request that that they play “Too Late” on the next Asia tour.
Like Astra, I had to buy Rush’s Power Windows on cassette when it was first released. I didn’t have a turntable in my dorm during my first semester in Austin, so I had to rely on a boom box and cassettes for my first few months at school.
[Note: this terrible malady was remedied over the holiday break, as Santa provided me with the best Christmas EVER. JVC receiver. Technics turntable. Sony CD player. Denon tape deck. Infinity speakers. I assure you that I rocked the entire floor at Dobie dormitory during the spring semester!]
Unlike Astra, I couldn’t stop listening to Power Windows. I recall one particular night when I had to pull an all-nighter to prep for a calculus exam, and I just left Power Windows running on the tape deck for the entire cram session. The boom box had an auto-reverse function, so I didn’t even have to get up and turn the tape over. I studied for 12 straight hours that night/morning, meaning I listened to Power Windows 16 straight times. And yes, I got an A on that test– they don’t call Neil Peart “The Professor” for nothing…
The Analog Kid 