
Like, Omigod! The '80s Pop Culture Box (Totally)
You're so right about that vestigial pop punk pep of the early '80s. The Rhino set is rich in this—not just the great Scandal song you mention but also such happy memories as Billy Idol's "Dancing With Myself," the Vapors' "Turning Japanese," and the Buggles' "Video Killed the Radio Star," which is not just the answer to a trivia question (first song played on MTV), but a big bubble of fun. Even through the mid-'80s, the charts welcomed such poppy joys as Katrina and the Waves "Walking on Sunshine"—a fruity, sparkly wine cooler of a song.
One surprise in Like, Omigod is how strangely eclectic '80s pop was. Last night I listed the songs from Like, Omigod that went to No. 1 in 1982 or 1983—a mere subsample of a subsample of a subsample of '80s pop. It was a variety store. Yes' "Owner of a Lonely Heart"—crashing, clanging prog-rock. Culture Club's "Karma Chameleon"—a jazzy goof. Dexy's Midnight Runners' "Come on Eileen"—Celtic pub-rock. Toni Basil's "Mickey"—New Wave cheerleading. The Eurythmics' "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" and the Human League's "Don't You Want Me"—robosynth. Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart"—an overwrought ballad. Toto's "Africa"—prefab easy listening. Men at Work's "Down Under"—Australian jazz-rock. Michael Sembello's "Maniac"—a dance anthem. Hall and Oates' "Maneater"—well, what is it? Kim Carnes' "Bette Davis Eyes"—an amped-up torch song.
Let 1,000 flowers bloom. As a kid in the '80s, I always felt like it was a homogenous time for music. I never realized so much was happening. Of course, most of what was happening wasn't any good. These genres bloomed for a few months and died. None of them passed on their genes. All these songs sound today, to borrow your word, like artifacts.
One track from Like, Omigod does seem as fresh and revolutionary and boisterous today as it did 16 years ago: Run-DMC and Aerosmith's "Walk This Way." When "Walk This Way" came out in 1986, it was an epiphany for teen-age white boys like me. I felt like I had been punched in the face. Music could sound like this? Why wasn't everything this funny and dirty and loud?
I know the rap bores out there are sharpening their long knives for me, getting ready to bombard me with e-mails about Kurtis Blow and Grandmaster Flash, sending me their closely argued essays about how it was actually Afrika Bambaataa that, at 12:09 a.m. on Aug. 17, 1978, in the Big Star Club of Jamaica, Queens, first sampled electric guitar for rap, etc., etc., etc. But the fact remains: For average white kids in 1986, those millions of us not cool enough to be listening to Afrika Bambaataa, rap was still a novelty. It mystified and scared us. It didn't really count as music, somehow. With "Walk This Way," I finally understood how rap and rock fit together. It was a genius marriage. Aerosmith got the reflected glory of Run-DMC's wit, vigor, and rhythm. Run-DMC got Aerosmith's audience.
"Walk This Way" didn't simply bring rap to white kids. It brought adrenaline back to pop music in a way that wasn't stupid. Until "Walk This Way" came along, the '80s teen-age boy had essentially two options. He could grow his hair long, dye it blond, wear ripped black T-shirts, idolize Eddie Van Halen (the greatest guitarist in the world, man!), and headbang to Def Leppard, Mötley Crüe, and Van Halen. Or he grow his hair long, dye it black, wear makeup, idolize Morrissey, and mope along with the Smiths and the Cure. It was a Hobson's choice: stupid energy or smart whining. "Walk This Way" was the third way and a kind of salvation.














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Notes From the Fray Editor:
Whose kisses are on whose lists? Who has been fighting the good fight for Hüsker Dü? The Fray has battled over inclusion and exclusion, the ickiness of nostalgia and the roll of Reaganism in our culture. Wild notes that he has been attacked for his outspoken Hall & Oates support (one wonders if this includes the cover of "Jingle Bell Rock.") In Notes I, Big Al provides some useful analysis. Notes II is a remarkable exchange on the imperatives of the market and the elective affinities of rap.
Notes From the Fray I:
Oddly enough, this band would have been better before the age of video. I still recall the dark-haired short one (Hall, Oates? [Oates—ed.]) with the bug-eyes moving his head back and forth like a pigeon on one of those insipid videos. And their domes remind me of how truly horrible 80s hair was. Some vidoes from that era were hilarious, campy, innovative (in a low-tech way). H&O videos were simply and essentially horrible.
-- Big Al
(To reply, click here.)
Notes From the Fray II:
"Walk This Way" signified the end of creative music. This song demonstrated that you could take a recognized song add some new effects and sell a few million copies. It signaled that creativity was unimportant. Look at rap today Puff Daddy won out over Public Enemy. Now music is all formula Like JLo and Britney.
-- biff
(To reply, click here.)
Stop the madness! The idea that "Walk This Way" killed pop music is almost as silly as the idea that pop music is now dead, just because JLo dominates the airwaves. I think Plotz is on to something here: The Run DMC/Aerosmith collaboration not only brought hip-hop to mainstream (read: white) attention, it also brought forth a new direction for listeners to follow. More than either of those two, it proved that the cliques that listeners were lumping themselves into were useless, because the song proved that genres could successfully merge and that pop couldn't be as neatly lumped into camps as we'd been led to believe. (Prince was doing the same sort of thing, but he wasn't rapping.)
Puff Daddy may have won out over Public Enemy, but could PE's rock-riff-fueled sonic assaults have been created without "Walk This Way" coming before? Maybe, but I'm doubtful.
-- aluminum man
(To reply, click here.)
I have nothing against Run Dmc its just that one song. I don't think they particularly liked doing it it was just a deal with the devil that they had to make. What that song did was show record companies that they can make money with garbage and that people will buy records no matter what is put out so there is no point developing real artists when pre fab sells better.
-- biff
(To reply, click here.)
"Could PE's rock-riff-fueled sonic assaults have been created without "Walk This Way" coming before?"
No, and Chuck D. knows it:
Beat is for Sonny Bono, beat is for Yoko Ono
Run-DMC first said a deejay could be a band
Stand on its feet, get you out your seat
Beat is for Eric B. and LL, as well, hell
Wax is for Anthrax, still it can rock bells
Ever forever, universal, it will sell
-- DonkeyBoy
(To reply, click here.)
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