The Knack's Doug Fieger -- in memorium

Doug Fieger, lead singer and songwriter of the successful and influential power pop band The Knack, died on Valentine's Day after a long battle with lung cancer. It's a very sad end to an amazing musical life.

I knew he was sick during this time, but he still continued to give interviews. He gave a terrific one in January 2008 to Vintage Guitar magazine about his amazing collection of equipment, growing up loving rock and roll, and the impact of the classic single "My Sharona." There was no mention of his illness in the article.

"You can have the same equipment, but unless you've got Jimmy Page's fingers, you ain't gonna sound like Jimmy Page," Fieger says. "Still, as a collector, I like having what a lot of the players that inspired me had."

According to the obituary that appeared in his hometown Detroit News newspaper, Fieger told the paper just last month, "I don't know any better than anyone else when I'm going. I've had 10 great lives. And I expect to have some more. I don't feel cheated in any way, shape or form."

The Knack's premiere album, Get The Knack, sold 6 million copies and brought back a love for 60's-era British invasion guitar rock and roll to the world. Although their aping of the Beatles caused a huge backlash and ridiculous expectations for the band's second album, they kept plugging away making great music and giving no quarter.

If you have any doubts of the staying power of "My Sharona," then you can remember the funny scene from the 1994 film "Reality Bites" (shown below) or that the song is featured in an edition of the video game Guitar Hero.

Their third album, Round Trip, produced by Jack Douglas (Aerosmith, John Lennon), gave them a bigger, in-your-face sound, and featured one of my favorites of theirs, a tour de force called "Africa."

Leaving Capitol for Charisma for the one off Serious Fun, old Detroit buddy Don Was roughed up the band's sound, gave the guitars more edge, but the songs were still there, like "Rocket o' Love" and the title cut.

The band continued releasing records periodically with mixed results, such as Zoom and Normal As The Next Guy.

What Fieger should be remembered for is finding a grand musical vision and sticking with it. Clearly, he was mesmerized by the melodic rock songwriting of the 60's, grew up learning how to play and collecting these instruments that mean so much to him. Even when the critics turned on The Knack and eventually the public went along, he still believed in the three-minute rock song with hooks and harmonies, lots of guitars, and the angst of a teenager.

I own a wonderful DVD the Knack did in 2002 called Live From The Rock 'n' Roll Fun House, where three quarters of the original band do a fantastic staged run through of many of their great songs.

Below is a video memorial for Doug Fieger and The Knack, starting with a local cable interview he did in Rhode Island. You'll notice that a number of these performances were from the past few years, when Fieger was battling cancer, but that did not stop him. Rest in piece, Mr. Fieger.

Squeeze -- "Another Nail In My Heart"/"Pulling Mussels From The Shell" (1980)

I don't think A&M Records knew what to make of Squeeze or how to market them when they first landed in the US in the late 70's. It was a perfect storm of bad luck and timing that kept them off my personal radar, although my brother Scott was obsessed by them.

At first, they were known as "UK Squeeze," probably because of some legal hassle, and that was how they were named on their first album. Second, it was the height of the punk movement, they came from the UK, so they were falsely lumped together with that whole lot. The first UK Squeeze album encouraged this image by not showing the band, but a washed out colored-in photo of a circus strongman pushing his thick arms together.

I witnessed America's reception to them first hand -- during my time at university in Buffalo, they were the opening act at the Memorial Auditorium (was it Blue Oyster Cult?) and they were consistently booed, with things thrown at them on stage. I think I even heard that keyboardist Jools Holland got his hand cut open from that nasty welcoming committee. And if Blue Oyster Cult was the headliner, what the hell was Squeeze doing on the bill?

Still, my brother Scott was playing "Take Me I'm Yours" and "Cool For Cats" over and over, and I promptly ignored it. I think the words that came to mind were "cheap" and "cheesy," was these were low-budget recordings done on basic analog synths.

So imagine my surprise, post-graduation, running around in New York City, as punk slowly gave way to New Wave, that Squeeze got their budget upped and released ArgyBargy. WPIX-FM and WLIR-FM, the two brave local stations that spun a non-stop playlist of all this great new music, added "Another Nail In My Heart" to the roster.

Now, I could not avoid them and oh, they were a pop band! And I could not get that damn chorus out of my head now:

And here in the bar,
The piano man's found
Another nail in my heart.

What sealed the deal was the follow-up single, "Pulling Mussels from The Shell." My hats off to composinig team Chris Difford and Glenn Tilbrook for coming up with that title and not even bothering to create a rhyme for it. This second British invasion featured lyrics full of English slang, twist and turns ("the cricket's creepy?"), stories about single punters running into trouble and drinking heavily, all in compact little pop melodies. Were these the same guys who barely survived leaving the stage in Buffalo?

ArgyBargy broke Squeeze and finally we all could see past the misguided attempts to sell them as a punk band or whatever A&M was concocting. From there, Squeeze built upon each successful album -- they were a pop band, damn it, one of the best. And at some point, they had better make it into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

To bring the story full circle, Difford and Tilbrook reunited as Squeeze with two new hires, and toured the States in 2008. I bought tickets to one of their two sold out concerts at the Beacon on the Upper West Side, and my guest was my brother Scott, who had their number down all along.

How much adoration did these guys get? From the moment they hit the stage with "Take Me I'm Yours," the audience never sat down, singing along to every blessed lyric. The band barely took a break, seguing from one classic to another for more than 90 minutes straight. And who should open up for them? A more appropriate booking -- their brothers in pop, Fountains of Wayne.

Below, the official video of "Another Nail In My Heart" from 1980, and then fast forward to that 2008 reunion tour, where Squeeze stopped by the A&E cable TV show "Private Sessions" to do "Pulling Mussels From The Shell."


Squeeze Performs on A&E's Private Sessions!!! - For more funny movies, click here

The Plimsouls -- "A Million Miles Away" (1983)

One of the defining bands of the New Wave era, although the closest they ever had to a hit was "A Million Miles Away," one of the poster children for CD collections of the time.

While some New Wave bands added plenty of synths and others did short poppy rock songs wearing skinny ties, the Plimsouls were your way better than average garage rock band, playing mostly minor key dirty rockers with an occasional nod to R&B and soul.

Led by Peter Case (who eventually became a solo troubadour when the band broke up), the Plimsouls stood by the garage rock aesthetic, three guys furiously bashing their guitars amped up into overdrive, a wild and crazy drummer, and a pack of excellent songs either putting down women or madly chasing them.

The Plimsouls' first EP arrived in the mail with an explanation of what plimsouls were -- a type of shoe, although if you Googled the word now, all you'd come up with are band references. LA was pumping out lots of bands with names beginning with the word "The," all crafting catchy three-minute rock songs that were the norm of the period. It got to the point where they were all a blur, record labels spitting them out, and truly there were some gems that would either rally the critics or die under the radar.

That EP, more soul-infused than later material, contained some wonderful songs, like "Zero Hour," "Now,"and "Lost Time," which actually feature R&B-inflected horn sections.

There was an original version of "A Million Miles Away" on Shaky City Records that I remember hearing on Long Island's WLIR-FM radio. Once the band performed the song in the early Nicolas Cage cult movie Valley Girl, they re-recorded it on a bigger budget, and it became part of the outstanding and much darker Everywhere At Once album on Geffen Records. By the time the song broke all over the more adventurous FM rock stations, the Plimsouls had broken up.

A roaring landslide of guitars and a much bleaker view than before made "A Million Miles Away" a perfect fit for Everywhere At Once. Case's songwriting had definitely taken a turn towards the skeptical and pessimistic:


Friday night I'd just got back
I had my eyes shut
Was dreaming about the past
I thought about you while the radio played
I should have got moving
For some reason I stayed.

I started drifting to a different place
I realized I was falling off the face of your world
And there was nothing left to bring me back.

I'm a million miles away
A million miles away
A million miles away
And there's nothing left to bring me back today.

I took a ride, I went downtown
Streets were empty
There was no one around
All the faces that we used to know
Gone from the places that we used to go.

I'm at the wrong end of the looking glass
Trying to hold on to the hands of the past and you
And there's nothing left to bring me back.

I'm a million miles away
A million miles away
A million miles away
And there's nothing left to bring me back today.


Primo garage rock with a spike of nasty -- "The Oldest Story In The World," "My Life Ain't Easy," "Play the Breaks," "Inch by Inch" and a cover of The Rare Breed's "Beg, Borrow and Steal." Timeless and real rock music -- and the album is still in print!

Here are the official video for "A Million Miles Away," a live concert video of the earlier "Zero Hour" and a homemade one of "Now" from the same original EP.

The Cars -- "Let's Go" (1979)

Criminally passed up by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame this year, it's time to give our due to The Cars, a band who truly never would have been given a second look by today's radio programmers if they were just starting out now, but luckily came around at the right time.

You'd be hard-pressed to find a band who could produce a slew of perfect singles and amazing albums, while veering between the commercial and experimental within the grooves of the same record.

This was a band of true yin and yang.

For example, on the band's virtually perfect debut album, in between such classics as "Good Times Roll," "Bye Bye Love," and "You're All I've Got Tonight" are the very spacey "I'm In Touch With Your World" and the creepy electronic dirge "Moving In Stereo" and nothing seems out of place.

It could be the brilliant sky high singer/songwriter Ric Ocasek, possessed with just an eerie, deep detuned voice, just one step away from hosting the late night B-movie horror flicks on local TV. Or the more conventional yet distinct vocals of the late bassist Benjamin Orr.

The Cars miraculously followed the perfect debut with the nearly as divine Candy-O, as if they never took a break between records. The leadoff cut, "Let's Go," is my favorite Cars song (and I can't even pick the runner-up, because they'd all come off this album) because it's really one of the best get-up-and-go tunes out there. If you want your album flying out of the gate, this would the one to use, a flashy A chord, pumped up by the click-clack percussion, and then the heavily-distorted Prophet 5 sync lines from Greg Hawkes. It's a complete adrenalin starter.

At grad school, the new wave movement was firing on all cylinders, and we'd enter our parties with our favorite records, like this one and the first B-52's, toss off whatever was on the phonograph, and replace them with all the groovy new rock sounds. Surrounded by TV studio geeks at Syracuse, one of them analyzed the then two Cars albums to discover what the secret to their sound was -- "it's the compression!" he concluded, courtesy of perfectionist producer Roy Thomas Baker.

How did the Cars not get into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame yet mystifies me. The band was an anomaly of exuding complete hipness with weird excursions intact, yet being wildly commercially successful with their compact 3.5 minute pop songs with densely layered harmonies, precious Eliot Easton guitarwork, and clever drumming from David Robinson. For all his romantic whimsy, Ocasek even netted the girl, model Paulina Porizkova, where they live happily in Manhattan's Gramercy Park area, where you can periodically spot the man himself, strolling down Park Avenue South.

Tommy Tutone -- "867-5309/Jenny" (1982)

This week's New Yorker magazine featured a small profile of former Tommy Tutone guitarist Jim Keller, co-writer of their biggest hit, "867-5309/Jenny." Keller is now living in New York City, running classical composer Phillip Glass' publishing company, and only recently performing in low key joints by himself.

If anybody doubts the staying power of this one-hit wonder from the New Wave era, look no further than Bruce Springsteen's recent "Radio Nowhere," which pretty much copped the riff right out from under the California band.

There can't be a New Wave CD compilation without "867-5309/Jenny" licensed for the deal. This was the perfect song for a time when skinny tie bands were still the rage, and people were still dancing to rock and roll. A jangly arpeggio riff, a singer who sounded like he had cotton in his mouth, a band named after a non-existent entity, and the requisite killed power pop hook.

Yes, there was plenty of phone number hysteria, and woe befell all those who had that phone number. And what's with the backwards slash in the title -- couldn't a parenthesis do the trick?

Although the band pretty much shot their load with this song -- they had three albums on Columbia Records -- they did have at least one other quality song which didn't quite scale the charts like "867" and that was "Angels Say No."

Below are two videos -- Tommy Tutone performing "867-5309/Jenny" in 1983 on the old ABC-TV Saturday Night Live rip-off "Fridays", and then a very cool one from 1979 of "Angels Say No," way before it appeared on an album, shot in Marin County. Jim Keller is wearing the green shirt in the first video and barechested in the second.

The Jim Carroll Band -- "People Who Died" (1980)

I'd been thinking of posting about Jim Carroll's one classic new wave/punk song not long ago when I just heard he died on Friday, September 11th of a heart attack at age 60.

In the late 70's, New York was at the height of the punk movement but at the same time, just scraping by through its financial crises. Carroll was a natural to join the musical fray, having written the underground college classic book "The Basketball Diaries," about his own downward spiral from aspiring street athlete to heroin junkie.

Carroll couldn't sing worth a damn, but he had a rather staggering spoken style of cadence infused with pain. When "People Who Died" came out, its title was easy to dismiss as a novelty number. After all, in the 70's, oddball songs did crack the Top 40.

But this was as startling a number as there could be -- a roll call of friends who OD'd or were brutally killed, all done to gatling-gun breakneck guitars and yes, it rhymed. As a matter of fact, the lyrics are so wild, he repeats them all over again, like a mantra of warning, regret and sadness.

Could you imagine anything remotely like this played on the radio now? No way.


Teddy sniffing glue, he was 12 years old
Fell from the roof on East Two-nine
Cathy was 11 when she pulled the plug
On 26 reds and a bottle of wine
Bobby got leukemia, 14 years old
He looked like 65 when he died
He was a friend of mine

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

G-berg and Georgie let their gimmicks go rotten
So they died of hepatitis in upper Manhattan
Sly in Vietnam took a bullet in the head
Bobby OD'd on Drano on the night that he was wed
They were two more friends of mine
Two more friends that died.

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died.

Mary took a dry dive from a hotel room
Bobby hung himself from a cell in the tombs
Judy jumped in front of a subway train
Eddie got slit in the jugular vein
And Eddie, I miss you more than all the others
And I salute you brother.

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died.

Herbie pushed Tony from the Boys' Club roof
Tony thought that his rage was just some goof
But Herbie sure gave Tony some bitchen proof
"Hey," Herbie said, "Tony, can you fly?"
But Tony couldn't fly, Tony died.

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died.

Brian got busted on a narco rap
He beat the rap by rattin' on some bikers
He said, "Hey, I know it's dangerous, but it sure beats Riker's"
But the next day he got offed by the very same bikers.

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died.



Carroll's "The Basketball Diaries" became an early Leonardo DiCaprio film many years later in 1995. Below is Carroll intercut with scenes from the movie. Jim Carroll, we salute you brother.

The musical impact of filmmaker John Hughes

While there is no question the the late filmmaker John Hughes touched many lives with his stories of teenage angst (The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, Weird Science, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful) and equally adult angst (National Lampoon's Vacation, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, Mr. Mom, She's Having A Baby), you can't discuss Hughes legacy without talking about the music.

As great as the scripts, pop music was almost like another character in these films. For a guy who had already been in the ad industry and working his way through his 30's, Hughes had an amazing knack for touching what was on the minds of kids 15 years younger than him.

I remember that like author Stephen King, Hughes said he wrote his scripts accompanied by different popular bands at the time. He seemed particularly taken by the English punk and new wave bands, and their music was featured prominently on the soundtracks. A no more direct example of his obsession was Hughes naming his Molly Ringwald/Andrew McCarthy/Jon Cryer love triangle vehicle Pretty in Pink after the classic loud and charging Psychedelic Furs song that helped bust open English new wave into the US. As a matter of fact, Hughes helped break other English acts here on these shores, crossing over to Top 40 success.

The film's soundtrack albums were like guided tours to the best and sometimes obscure New Wave and post-punk bands of the 80's, with contributions from New Order, Pete Shelley, Suzanne Vega, INXS, Echo & The Bunnymen, The Thompson Twins and The Smiths.

So here is a musical video trip to the excellent popular and influential songs, almost entirely handpicked by John Hughes for his films:

NATIONAL LAMPOON'S VACATION (1983) -- Written by John Hughes

Lindsey Buckingham's 2-minute pop pleasure "Holiday Road."


THE BREAKFAST CLUB (1985) -- Written and directed by John Hughes

Scottish band Simple Minds broke through the American market with "Don't You (Forget About Me)." The story goes that lead singer Jim Kerr was reluctant to record the song because the song was not written by the band, but was coaxed by his label A&M to do it. I'm sure he was glad he changed his mind -- it became the band's signature song and their biggest hit.


WEIRD SCIENCE (1985) -- Written and directed by John Hughes

The second A&M cult band to take the magic Hughes ride was Oingo Boingo, led by future soundtrack composer Danny Elfman. Their Devo-ish title song featured the band's trademark multi-layered percussion and mallets, off-kilter vocals with some early sampling ("She's alive! She's alive!" from Bride of Frankenstein) and a hyperactive beat that made the band a one-hit wonder. All that percussion lent itself to a ready-made 12" remix single at the time.


PRETTY IN PINK (1986) -- Written by John Hughes

You can't talk about this film first without acknowledging the fantastic title song, which actually came out five years before this movie debuted. One of the Psychedelic Furs' first singles, "Pretty In Pink" had that hard-hitting snare blast intro and then walls of roaring distorted guitar riffs, and the unmistakable slurry sneery voice of Richard Butler. Here's their 1986 Top of the Tops performance.


The film's biggest hit, however, was the breakthrough of synth poppers OMD (formerly Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark) and their "If You Leave." Thankfully, the duo was just hitting its stride when this took them over the fence, and they didn't miss a beat with more excellent songs to follow, although none as big as this one.


Leave it to Hughes to dream up this memorable scene when Duckie (Jon Cryer) skids into the record store, doing an amazing lip synch to soul legend Otis Redding's "Try A Little Tenderness" to try and win Molly Ringwald's heart.


FERRIS BUELLER'S DAY OFF (1986) -- written and directed by John Hughes

In the ultimate hooky movie, Hughes dug up Swiss electronic group Yello's leering "Oh Yeah," which ended up on a million TV shows, films and commercials afterward until it wore itself out.


The movie's penultimate scene, of course, was Ferris (Matthew Broderick) crashing a mid-town Chicago parade and leading the marching band and dancers in a memorable version of "Twist and Shout."

Ultravox -- "Reap The Wild Wind" (1982)

Big hair, big synths -- it must be the 80's! Along with Spandau Ballet, Ultravox ushered in the New Romantics part of the New Wave era with their grand gestures, very image conscious appearances, dramatic song styles, and load and load and loads of synths!

After s handful of albums led by John Foxx, the band hit its pop stride when the charasmatic mustached singer/songwriter Midge Ure joined and took the spotlight. Never enjoying the commercial breakout that Spandau Ballet did in the US with their True album, Ultravox was very much a European confined phenomenon.

They coaxed Sir George Martin of Beatles fame into producing Quartet. Considering that outside of the Fab Four, he didn't produce many other acts (America, Jeff Beck), I'd consider this quite an accomplishment and an interesting match. With electronics their primary musical tool (and a live drummer - yay for them), you'd be hard pressed to find exactly what George Martin's touch was on the album.

Yet, this became their most commercially successful album. "Reap The Wild Wind" launched Quartet with its solo hi-hat and then a wash of those synths to a galloping beat. Ure's vocals eerily resemble David Bowie on this song, who had a tendency to croon his singing, along with the echoed whispers. "Reap The Wild Wind" sounds very wide and cinematic, romping quickly and repetitively, twisting and turning. As pioneered in a song like Gary Numan's "Cars," the multiple keyboard pads and strings dominated the melody with a huge hook of its own.


Reap the wild wind.
Reap the wild wind.
Reap the wild wind.

A finger points to show a scene. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
Another face where mine had been. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
Another footstep where I once walked. (Take my hand)
Take it all.

You take my hand and give me your friendship.
I'll take my time and send you my slow reply.
Give me an inch and I'll make the best of it.
Take all you want and leave all the rest to die.

Reap the wild wind.

A footprint haunts an empty floor. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
A fading coat that I once wore. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
Oh, desolation where I once lived.
I have seen in times gone by.
I have felt a different shadow on the wall,
A stranglehold on a certain feeling.


With Ultravox, Ure became a UK national treasure, eventually releasing successful solo albums, while in 1984, co-writing that holiday perennial, "Do They Know It's Christmas," even singing one of the lines. I saw him open an INXS concert at Radio City Music Hall in the late 80's and he stole the show, practically being begged to do multiple encores.

Hipsway -- "The Honeythief" (1986)

After spotting this CD secretly stashed in my friend's collection last night, I have decided to honor this prototypical New Wave one hit wonder single.

With the British taking American black soul styles and churning them back out for numerous New Wave hits (i.e. Paul Young, Spandau Ballet, Duran Duran, Phil Collins, etc.), Hipsway snuck in there at the end of the era for this dark white funk hit.

As a matter of fact, Hipsway remind me of Duran Duran for their clipped lyrics and sustained, snakey lead vocals. Besides all the catchiness and danceability in a mere 3 minutes and 15 seconds, the song's aura definitely comes from Grahame Skinner's deep menacing baritone lead vocals. When you are oozing out a song about the not-very-subtle "honeythief" of the title, that kind of tone is enough to excite all the girls who were listening in!

Sleek big cat, bible black
Honeysuckle I would never deny

The light of deep regret
Let me see what I don't get
The light of deep regret
Let me see what I don't get

Pass through the heat
Come on, come on and pass
Through the heat
Catch a thief, a honeythief
I am a thief, a honeythief

That's the price you pay
When love gets in the way
Stealth in the night
I come to steal with stealth
In the night
You got the sugar to satisfy
I am the man you can never deny

They sure knew had to make great singles in those days. The whooshing organ that comes out of nowhere for the middle break, the black background singers on the chorus, and that funky guitar line that rips off Spandau Ballet's "Chant No. 1."

But Hipsway was more than that one single. Like my friend, I also have that debut album which contained terrific singles that made it far bigger in the UK than the US, like "Broken Years" and the even more menacing "Ask The Lord."

In the official video, there's some vaguely weird about the African native clips cut in with the band performing and Skinner's strutting around.

Joe Jackson -- "Sunday Papers" (1979)

Late 70's England was a hotbed of angry young musical men, from the Sex Pistols' Johnny Rotten to the bespectacled and obsessed Elvis Costello. Joe Jackson came off this factory line too, but he abhorred the "new wave" tag and was very vocal about not being associated with Costello.

However, they both shared a penchant for biting satire and shifting musical styles like the weather. While Costello was all sexual frustration, voyeurism, and twisted psyche, Jackson had a comical purview of workaday England and going out for a pint.

His breakneck debut, Look Sharp!, fit into that nice neat short New Wave pop song blueprint of the time, and rarely has one just enjoyed the ride from the musical start. His signature hit, "Is She Really Going Out With Him," still resonates today and my young daughter loved it the moment she heard it for the first time.

When I played her the follow-up single, "Sunday Papers," which I've heard many countless times, I suddenly noticed that wonderful aggressive bass playing from Graham Maby. I don't know why I always took it for granted, but his counterpoint to the opening rhythm guitar chords was killer. But it didn't stop there. Maby's all over the place between the verses that it's practically a showcase for him as opposed to any other band member.

Jackson's band exemplified the sorely missed stripped down nature of the New Wave/punk movement, where all you needed were four musicians -- a drummer, two guitarists and a singer -- to get the point across.

I remember a cultural fascination with the tabloids began around this time and through the early 80's'. It was hip to dig them. Once the Talking Heads incorporated their aesthetic on their album and movie True Stories, that cemented it. However, you've got to credit Joe Jackson for taking a brilliantly funny icy look at them.

Mother doesn't go out any more,
Just sits at home and rolls her spastic eyes.
But every weekend through the door,
Come words of wisdom from the world outside.

If you want to know about the bishop and the actress,
If you want to know how to be a star.
If you want to know about the stains on the mattress,
You can read it in the Sunday papers, Sunday papers.

Mother's wheelchair stays out in the hall,
Why should she go out when the TV's on?
Whatever moves beyond these walls,
She'll know the facts when Sunday comes along.

If you want to know about the man gone bonkers,
If you want to know how to play guitar.
If you want to know about the other suckers,
You can read it in the Sunday papers, read it in the Sunday papers.

Sunday papers don't ask no questions.
Sunday papers don't get no lies.
Sunday papers don't raise objection.
Sunday papers don't got no eyes.

Brother's heading that way now I guess,
He just read something made his face turn blue.
Well I got nothing against the press,
They wouldn't print it if it wasn't true.

If you want to know about the gay politician,
If you want to know how to drive your car.
If you want to know about the new sex position,
You can read it in the Sunday papers, read it in the Sunday papers.


Jackson's first two albums were pretty much all of one piece, clever pop songs with his crack band (I saw Maby many, many years later accompanying Marshall Crenshaw at a small club in Piermont, NY). He then chucked that model, saw the reggae light for Beat Crazy and then did another left turn into swing for Jumping Jive, and yet again towards Cole Porter with Night And Day. He had more in common with Costello's stylistic shifts than he thought.

So let's take a look at the young Joe Jackson, smirking, on top of the world, performing "Sunday Papers" on the UK TV program, "Old Grey Whistle Test."

Joe Jackson - Sunday Papers
Uploaded by ZzeMann

OMD - "(Forever) Live and Die" (1986)

There were only a few truly impressive synthpop bands who gave us more than one classic single, such as the still-running Depeche Mode, New Wave poster boys Naked Eyes ("Promises, Promises," "Always Something There To Remind Me"), the campy Erasure ("Ship of Fools," "Stop," "Chains of Love") and the hyper-romantic Orchestral Manoevres in the Dark, thankfully shortened eventually to OMD.

That band name had an interesting role in the band's evolution. When they first started out with that long moniker, they were quite artsy and obtuse. They pulled off one hit New Wave single in 1980, "Enola Gay," with its repetitive early drum machine pattern, and everything that followed after that was not very accessible.

It wasn't until a few years later that they probably realized they could either continue toiling as a cult artsy synth band in their native England or remember that they were a synthpop band or go for the big time. They decided on the latter, upgraded their production, sharpened their songwriting, hired synthpop producer wunderkind Stephen Hague and boy, did the tables turn around. It probably helped their image that they became better known as OMD at that time.

While OMD will go down in 80's rock history for their most successful single, "If You Leave" from the Pretty in Pink soundtrack, they had other fantastic pop songs that charted such as "Secret" and "So In Love."

"(Forever) Live and Die," their "If You Leave" follow-up single had an unusual loping shuffle beat, which was unheard of for a song in this genre. The leisurely pace brought you along with simple chord arrangements, proving once again that you can write the best pop songs with just a few chords, as long as the melody works.

Andy McCluskey's vocals float all over the place, with layers and layers of harmonies over that chorus. They say pop music is all about repetition, and this was synthpop repetition at its most mesmerizing, so you could not get it out of your head.

People like
I never know, I never know, I never know why-y-y.
You make me wanna cry.
I never know, I never know, I never know why-y-y.
Forever live and die.

Watching the video reminds me of all the 80's English bands fronted by two guys, like Tears for Fears, Go West, and Naked Eyes.

The Vapors -- "Turning Japanese" (1980)

The absolute ultimate skinny tie New Wave one hit wonder band (and song) has to be this one by The Vapors, who came and went with this enduring power pop classic.

Leaving no Asian cliche unturned, this ultra-catchy guitar pop tune actually has lyrics worth analyzing because they are just freaky, bizarre and pretty funny. Let's just start right there:

I've got your picture of me and you,
You wrote I love you I love you too.
I sit there staring and there's nothing else to do.
Oh it's in color, your hair is brown,
Your eyes are hazel and soft as clouds.
I often kiss you when there's no one else around .

I've got your picture, I've got your picture,
I'd like a million of them all round my cell.
I asked the doctor to take your picture,
So I can look at you from inside as well.
You've got me turning up and turning down,
And turning in and turning round.

I'm turning Japanese, I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so.
Turning Japanese I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so.
I'm turning Japanese I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so.
Turning Japanese I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so.

No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women,
No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder it's dark.
Everyone around me is a total stranger,
Everyone avoids me like a cyclone ranger, everyone.


The guy is clearly in an asylum, locked away and going nuts without his girlfriend (if she's even real), and now he's "turning Japanese?" With the whole Oriental octave guitar riffs to add to the whole cliche?

The killer line is "I asked your doctor to take your picture/So I can look at you from inside as well." Hmm, now just what does that imply?

Because of the tongue-in-cheek nature of "Turning Japanese," I don't think it cause much of a racial stir back then. But I wonder if the song was released now, or even covered by another band, would the political correctness police come storming down on it?

I mentioned the song to my Japanese physical therapist, and not only had he not heard of the song, he was kind of amused somebody wrote a song with that title. I don't know how he'd feel if he heard the lyrics and watched the video, but I am going to find a way.

The Vapors - Turning Japanese
Uploaded by mg217

Sniff 'n' The Tears -- "Driver's Seat" (1978)

One of the very best in New Wave one hit wonders, Sniff 'n' The Tears' "Driver's Seat" had a fast four on the floor beat, led by the constant snare drum snap on the 8th notes. This was a rock toe-tapper in every sense of the word, backed by the hard acoustic guitar strums of lead singer/songwriter Paul Roberts, all based on three chords.

New Wave was probably the last great period of danceable rock and roll, with plenty of short named bands, or just slightly twisted ones like these guys. "Driver's Seat" was made for the skinny tie crowd with that pulsating snare beat.

Tightly arranged, "Driver's Seat" has a very cool production trick at the song's start that bears a few listenings. I'm actually convinced it may have been an accident. The song's three acoustic guitar chords are played hard twice through, then the drums come in with that precision beat, but it sounds like somebody let the reverb go on for a couple of seconds, and then dial it back quickly back down down. It's a slightly subtle effect, and if you listen to the official video below in the first 10 seconds, you'll distinctly hear it.

"Driver's Seat" is one of the New Wave era's two big driving songs (the other was the Tom Robinson Band's "2-4-6-8 Motorway"), much in classic rock's tradition like Golden Earring's "Radar Love" and Thin Lizzy's "The Boys Are Back In Town." You crank it up in the car for a few good reasons -- 1) the pulsating beat, 2) it's about driving and 3) it's a great song, so what other reason do you need?


Doing alright, a little drivin' on a Saturday night.
And come what may, gonna dance the day away.


Jenny was sweet, show a smile for the people she meets.
I'm trouble, let's drive, I don't know the way you came alive.


News is blue (the news is blue), has its own way to get to you.
What can I do (what can I do), when I remember my time with you.


Pick up your feet, got to move to the trick of the beat.
There is no lead, just take your place in the driver's seat.


Paul Roberts had the required disaffected lead singer tone of New Wave bands, his being a bit light and rough around the edges. The background vocals are derivative of doo wop, of all things, with a basso singer doing the "yea-aah" during the brilliant a capella break, and at other times, brilliantly echoing some of the lines with shuffled variations ("What can I do-o-o-o?").

Other highlights: fuzz guitar lines, octave guitar chords, and the square wave synth solo that twists and turns around the last part of the song.

Got to love the fact that you can buy a "Best of Sniff 'n" The Tears" CD, but there was only one real hit for the band. Below is the official video, which is amusing for three reasons 1) Paul Roberts is playing an electric Fender Telecaster but the part is an acoustic guitar, 2) the band's debut album cover conveniently laid across the prominently viewed kick drum, and 3) the cheek and sexist camera pulling away from that kick drum revealing the drummer placed perfectly between a pair of girl's legs. That's followed by the band's appearance on "Top Of The Pops" (Where Roberts at least has the acoustic guitar this time!).

SNIFF 'N' THE TEARS - Driver's Seat ( 1978)
Uploaded by exDrBob

New Musik -- "Straight Lines" (1979)

Talk about your obscure yet amazing synthpop records of the New Wave era. I burned this song on a New Wave compilation CD for my daughter not long ago. Today, I put on the CD without looking at what it was just before her birthday sleepover was about to begin. A loud doorbell of the "ding-dong" kind came blasting through the basement and my wife ran to see if the first guest had arrived. Of course, it was the opening sound effect of "Straight Lines."

There's no question in my mind that New Musik were the true pioneers of the synthpop genre, preceding acts like Depeche Mode and Yazoo by a couple of years. Why they fizzled out after a few years, just as those other acts were starting to pick up steam, is not much of a mystery -- their American label, CBS, didn't know what to do with them never releasing their original albums and who knows if they were even promoted properly. It's a miracle they even made American radio at all, while scorching the UK charts.

I remember distinctly hearing "Straight Lines" for the first time on WPIX-FM when the station was pushing its primarily new wave format. The song was extremely catchy, danceable and quirky, but somewhat off balance from its dizzying piano notes. It's got a very fast and straight straight 4/4 beat, perfect for either pogo-ing or wild freak-ish jumping all over the place. Although it feels like a synthpop song, there are a lot of organic elements in it -- I think the drum is live, electric bass, acoustic guitar, typical "round sound" guitar notes.

CBS released on the song on a 10" NuDisk EP, which I ran out and bought. It re-appeared several months later on a US album called Sanctuary, which contained many of the great pop songs from the group's first two UK albums. Thematically, the group was all about emotional distance, things being out of our control.


You're running in circles
Yet traveling in straight lines.
You're racing around
You move at the speed of time.
We're running together
We're moving along the way.
Whatever the weather
You'll find there'll be no delay.

Sure you can hit the beaten track
But you can never turn it back.
One way.
Straight lines (moving on a straight line)
Straight lines (moving on a straight line).

You're making decisions
You wonder which way to choose.
There's this way and that way
How could you ever lose.
We're shifting together
We're on a production line.
All drifting together
As a patent unique design.

Yes you can hit the beaten track
But you can never turn it back.


Tony Manfield was pretty much the band, writing the songs and singing lead with a very "English-sounding voice." When he sings about "being on a production line," well, it really sounds it, pumping away on rhythm and beat. When New Musik broke up, Mansfield went on to produce a number of New Wave acts like the similar-sounding Naked Eyes ("Promises, Promises"), a-ha, The B-52's and After The Fire ("Der Kommisar").

In 1980, New Musik appeared on the UK TV show "Top Of The Pops" performing "Living By Numbers." The announcer introduced the band as follows: "Now this is one of those massive Eurohits sung by a bloke who doesn't seem like he wants to be here. He's either nervous or he knows the song is kack." Kack?

Below are two rare New Musik videos -- a shortened silly version of "Straight Lines" from "Top of The Pops" (the full song is about five minutes long, this one is slightly longer than half that) (gotta love the suits and ties), and the official video of another great tune "This World Of Water," with an early use of the vocoder effect.

The Thompson Twins -- "The Gap" (1984)

One of the more commercially successful artists of the New Wave era, the Thompson Twins were at the right place and the right time: off-kilter band name (named after characters in the Tintin cartoon), bi-racial personnel, funky feathered hair, a push to the dance floor, and a tremendous knack for writing great pop songs.

At the time, which Sirius Satellite Radio now likes to call "the first wave of alternative music," if you could combine commercial instincts with an eccentric twist and a dance beat, you had a damn good chance to succeed.

The Thompson Twins' sound was based on two strong elements: analog synths, and lots and lots of percussion -- not just drums, but hand percussion of all kinds, which added an international flavor. They worked with producer Alex Sadkin down at Compass Point Studios in the Bahamas, home to other beat-heavy artists like Duran Duran, Grace Jones, and Robert Palmer.

While Arista Records had momentary success with their other New Wave act, Haircut 100, the Thompson Twins had several worldwide hits, spawning all kinds of 12" singles, and a few greatest hits albums. The threesome came right from central casting: a good looking white guy with a droning voice (Tom Bailey), a curly blonde woman who often dressed in downtown fashion and a big cap (Allanah Currie) banging away on electronic drums, and a black bass player/percussionist who, for some reason, didn't seem to say much at all (Joe Leeway). Not surprisingly, Leeway left the band not long after they peaked with this Into The Gap album.

While "The Gap" was not as monsterous a hit as either "Doctor! Doctor!" or "Hold Me Now," but it held special meaning in the summer of 1986 when I was helping run a house in Fire Island. Rampant socializing and togetherness in a house dubbed "Obsession" across from Flynn's dockside bar and restaurant in the Ocean Bay Park section, the residents took this song as a kind of theme song. Every weekend night, you could find them on top of couches, tables and ledges, often with weird hats and cheesy fake plastic guitars, turning "Into The Gap" in a ritualistic dance, much like the way everybody knows how to do the Hokey Pokey, Electric Slide and Chicken Dance (not that I endorse those last obnoxious two).

With an Egyptian synth motif, syncopated hand claps, a convenient slave ship "uhhh," a gated vocoder riff opening on the beat ("I-I-I-I!"), jingles, jangles, bongos, tambourine shakes, and middle Eastern exotica, I can vividly picture this sunburned group of boyfriend and girlfriend hunter singing along:


East is east (four claps), west is west (four claps),
Two diff'rent colors on the map.
We say break the line (four claps), chew the fat (four claps),
Keep moving out into the gap!


Other than those fond memories, that's pretty much all the Thompson Twins are also these days, unfortunately.

Below, the Thompson Twins open a 1985 San Diego concert with "Into The Gap." As you can see, the guys were huge and had a really fun stage show. Makes you wish you could have been there.

Ian Lloyd -- "Slipaway" (1979)

Off the top of my head, this seems like the only song Ric Ocasek gave away that became something of a cult New Wave hit.

Luckily it landed in the hands of Ian Lloyd, better know as the lead singer of another one hit wonder band, Stories (interracial love tale "Brother Louie," which was also a cover tune).


Lloyd had been singing background on various song and albums. When he cut this solo album Goose Bumps for Scotti Brothers Records, this was the one tune written and produced by Ocasek, featuring all his fellow members of The Cars. The song's original demo can be found on the double-album Just What I Needed: Cars Anthology, but this version beats it by miles.

"Slipaway" is best described as a 60's party song as remade by Ocasek. It's faster than most Cars songs, probably as fast as "Don't Cha Stop" from the debut album. It's got an absolute pumping beat, with a matching bass going up and down with it and a killer analog synth hook that sounds suspiciously like a really old Virginia Slims cigarette commercial (now I know I'm really dating myself!). Lots of hand claps, heavily shouted background vocals of "That's right" and some cool bottle rocket effects that make the whole production seem like it's going to explode.

Trademark Ocasek lyrics: obtuse, name-dropping, and a bit of biting sarcasm...

I can tell that you're wild
and you love their aching smile
and I know I'm on the list to be kissed.

When you're givin' out the name
of the one you want to blame
you'll be on the brink of tears, that's right

Could I talk you out of stayin' here tonight?

Well I see that you're cute
in your Fiorucci suit
and your eyes have seen the shadows that you hide.

I could be a little sweet
that would come off very neat
you'd be on the brink of tears, that's right

Could I talk you out of stayin' here tonight?

And of course, you can clearly hear Ocasek singing back to Lloyd "something's gotta change now" during the chorus.

This is one tough little record to get. The album is long out of print and I don't know of any collections it can be found on. Truly one of the great rare singles of the New Wave era.

But somebody has done us all a favor and put together a neat little video for the song, so kudos to them!

Haircut 100 -- "Love Plus One" (1982)

Haircut 100 was truly one of the New Wave era's coulda-shoulda been stories. Just when they exploded onto the scene with their first album, Pelican West, their main songwriter/singer quit for a solo career and they were never the same trying to replace him.

During this period, many bands were taking rock, soul and dance music, and combining them into new and exciting songs. As a rebellious response to the repetitive disco era that proceeded it, many new artists were suddenly landing on college and "new rock" radio stations as imports, and being snapped by major US labels.

Such was the case with Haircut 100, which was mainly the vehicle for singer/songwriter Nick Heyward. They landed out of nowhere on WLIR-FM in the early 80's with their first import single, "Love Plus One" and you'd never really heard anything like this. Whereas a number of English New Wave acts were borrowing from soul and Motown (Spandau Ballet, Paul Young, Naked Eyes, Kim Wilde, The Jam, etc.), Haircut 100 took a decidedly South American route.

As you'll see from the video below, they dressed like good little English school boys, like a smiling bunch of goody two-shoes. Every video I've seen of them, they've been in an unusually chipper form, wearing the kind of clean cut semi-preppy outfits any mother would love to see on their daughter's dates.

After the opening scratchy guitar chords, a catchy marimba riff marks time with the kick and hi hat, the electric bass slides down, and it's this upbeat pop tune with a slightly Latin feel, a soprano sax wailing away, and some congas under the mix. Heyward's got the typical vocals of the era -- almost disaffected, nothing amazing, but totally capable of carrying the clipped melody. And if you're going to spend the time studying the lyrics, well, they're almost nonsensical.

I, I went off to the right
Without saying goodbye, goodbye
Where does it go from here?
Is it down to the lake I fear?
Ay ah ah ah ah ah
Ay ah ah ah ah ah
Then I call
Ring (ring) ring (ring) ring (ring) ring (ring)
La la love plus one
Ring (ring) ring (ring) ring (ring) ring (ring)
When I call love.


They are fun to sing, as truly silly as they are. But this is what a great pop single was at the time -- just different... clocking in under four minutes, danceable, happy as hell, and unfailing melody.

Thank God, Arista signed these guys up and released Pelican West in the US. However, they probably lived to regret it when Heyward suddenly bolted the group to go it alone at the height of the first album's fame. While Heyward made a bit of a dent in the UK by himself, he pretty much went nowhere here. What could have been.

One guy who really did make it in the band besides Heyward (if you call his career as such) was American-born drummer Blair Cunningham, who actually joined Chrissie Hynde and her Pretenders later on after original drummer Martin Chambers, played with Paul McCartney and others.

Below is the official "Love Plus One" video, shot on some kind of kitschy jungle set with torchlights and swinging vines on a sound stage somewhere. Heyward seems just a bit goofy, nodding his head to the right in case you don't understand the first line of the song (I didn't, for years).

Peter Godwin -- "Baby's In The Mountains" (1983)

If you're a New Wave fiend who relishes the more obscure acts, then Peter Godwin's your man. There are about five zillion New Wave record compilations, and you'll be inundated with the Stray Cats, Modern English, Men At Work and The Police, but good luck finding one with Peter Godwin (you can try Just Can't Get Enough, Vol. 12).

Together with Duncan Browne, Godwin was in the minor pop band Metro previous to jumping off on his own track.

"Baby's In The Mountains" was prototypical for the era -- layers of analogue synths driving a mid-tempo pumping beat, programmed drum machine with synthetic beats, what sounds like a deep Moog bass, and a highly affected vocal periodically backed up by female singers.

If there was one musical twist that singers liked to do at this time, and "Baby's In The Mountain" is a prime example, it was the slightly chromatically out of tune throwaway line. In this case, listen to the pre-chorus when Godwin sings "and there's NOTHING I can do" which kind of goes up and down an octave in those six words.

The song really took hold when Polydor had master mixer John Luongo did one of his classic extended remixes, jetting the song into the dance clubs at the time. Since making it big in dance clubs was still going strong from the earlier disco era, these 12" singles gave whole new lives to songs at the time (see my post on ABC's "Poison Arrow"). Luongo earned his chops with those disco songs, so when these New Wave acts came calling with their 4/4 dance beats, it was an easy transition for him. You can find his remix of "Baby's In The Mountains" on a "best of" Peter Godwin compilation on Amazon.

Here's a simple home-made video for "Baby's In The Mountains." Not much visually, but it's good to have the song out there: