The early '80s, after all, had been marked by an admirable day-glo innocence that sought to wash the butt-rock '70s out of our hair once and for all. Aided by a still-fledgling MTV, that changing of the guard quickly shifted into overdrive.
Next thing we knew, MTV had become the establishment, outpacing radio as the leading avenue for breaking new artists. Rather than merely provide a method for future stars to find a mass audience, MTV began dictating its demands to an industry that was all too happy to serve up $100,000 videos and if MTV refused to play 'em, oh well.
Thankfully, the power of the rock press was still formidable, helping to almost single-handedly keep the burgeoning alternative and D.I.Y. scenes afloat. Sure, college radio played a part, but, let's face it, CMJ Magazine, itself, was far more influential than the college radio stations whose playlists it reported.
To pinpoint precisely when "The Eighties" lost the plot, we must find that singular moment when both extremes still co-existed equally. No moment in time comes to mind quicker than the fall of 1984, or, more accurately, October 1984.
Let It Be Meets Big Bam Boom!
In a perfect example of "Out With The Old, In With The New", scrappy Minneapolis foursome The Replacements released Let It Be on the little-known Twin/Tone label and wound up securing more glowing press than any ten major label bands.
Meanwhile, Hall & Oates', who'd pretty much owned the decade up to that point, indulged in '80s studio excess, releasing the clangy Big Bam Boom. Produced by Bob Clearmountain and featuring the prophetic single "Out Of Touch", it would be H&O's last album to hit the Top 10.
Shout vs. The Unforgettable Fire
For the Irish foursome U2, whose gradual grass roots march to stardom had reached what many had wrongly presumed was their pinnacle with 1983's Under A Blood Red Sky, their dedication to remaining artistically relevant led them to pursue a more esoteric sound with Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois.
Doing so meant potentially alienating a fan base that had responded favorably to the band's politically-charged rock anthems ("New Year's Day"/"Sunday Blood Sunday"). Of course, they were savvy enough to release arguably their best anthem, "Pride (In The Name of Love"), as the first single from the otherwise moody & atmospheric The Unforgettable Fire.
By comparison, Devo took themselves out of the game once and for all by sticking too close to a formula that had stopped bearing fruit about halfway through 1981's New Traditionalists, where the band's continuing love affair with technology led them to choose programming over musicianship and, in doing so, surrendered much of their personality. The failure of Shout would also lead to them losing their record deal with Warner Brothers. Oops!
Frankie Kills The Radio Star?
Newcomers Frankie Goes To Hollywood teamed up with former Buggle Trevor Horn to create the pulsating, urgent dance-pop masterpiece "Relax", around which the rest of Welcome To The Thunderdome was superbly built, while Culture Club's run of eight inescapable pop hits came to an excruciating halt on Waking Up With The House on Fire despite no real deviation from their formula.
Perhaps Culture Club's lack of a sinister edge (for lack of a better term) that the likes of Frankie and Dead or Alive had in spades was their ultimate downfall and, perhaps, proof that the '80s needed more than happy-go-lucky Swatch watches and Ocean Pacific board shorts to get its rocks off.
Of course, FGTH's own downfall would not be far behind as the U.S. pop charts became quite the unforgiving mistress.
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| "We'd like to play something from our new album. Hey, where's everybody goin'?" |
If ever there was a band that could have given U2 a run for their money, it was Big Country, whose blistering debut (The Crossing) had taken the template that Bono & Co. had perfected (up to and including hiring U2's producer Steve Lillywhite) and pumped it full of steroids, resulting in two gigantic radio smashes in "Fields of Fire" and "In A Big Country".
With everyone wondering what they'd do for a second act, the band took the safe route and delivered The Crossing Part 2 (under the dreadful name Steeltown), but, apparently, that was not what we wanted as the sequel topped the UK charts, but completely missed the US Top 40.
In hindsight, there is no sane explanation for an album that was every bit the equal of The Crossing meeting such a cruel fate.
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| "We're a happy family. Please kill us." |
If one is to pinpoint the exact moment when the '80s spun horribly out of control, it would have to be the Ramones' Too Tough To Die, which was hailed as a sterling return-to-form by the band's label while sounding very much like a final surrendering of their soul by a band that had already bent over backwards in hopes of giving their label that much-needed hit.
The songs that critics hailed as a return to the stripped-down rock of earlier albums ("Mama's Boy", "Wart Hog", "Danger Zone" and the title cut) were lunk-headed toss-offs that saw the band's special brand of "dumb genius" reduced to just "dumb" while "Chasing The Night" and "Howling At The Moon" added synthesizers to the formula, to no avail.
Sadly, neither attempting to get back to their roots or updating their sound worked, as the album was their worst-selling effort to date.
On The CD Side
Perhaps sealing the fate of the '80s, as well as that of the music industry, itself, is the fact that prices of CD players dropped drastically in October 1984. While compact discs had been around since 1982, the retail price for a new high-end CD player still hovered around $1,000, with mid-range units priced at $675, keeping players (and CD's) out of reach of the average music consumer.
Beginning in October '84, the first in-car CD player was introduced and prices of home units plummeted just in time for the holiday shopping season, making them more affordable than ever.
Where's our Waitress(es)?
If one needs any further proof that the '80s were, for all intents and purposes, finito as of October 1984, one need only look as far as NYC band The Waitresses, whose "I Know What Boys Like" practically embodied early '80's innocence and brought them to national prominence, but the pressure of living up to the expectations of said single had, by October 1984, forced the band to break up.