Song #95 of 9999 - Once in a Lifetime by Talking Heads

Song #95 of 9999

Title: Once in a Lifetime
Artist: Talking Heads

Year: 1980
Album: Remain in Light

Less a song than a work of art, "Once in a Lifetime" is a production of famed producer Brian Eno who pieced together the independent contributions of the members of Talking Heads. The song is so revolutionary that it has been named one of the 100 most important musical works of the Twentieth Century by NPR and its video is exhibited in the Museum of Modern Art, New York City. To further evidence its greatness, it didn't even crack the Billboard Hot 100 in America. :-\

For me, this is one of a very few songs that manages to sustain listener interest with absolutely no harmonic progression. Tina Weymouth's bass line gives the impression of two chords, but she's really just alternating between the 3rd and 5th of the D Major chord that is sustained throughout the piece. It's not until the guitar power chords at 3:05 (D-C-G) that we hear anything in contrast to the D Major groove. (By the way, I use D Major loosely—the sustained and sparkling keyboard that hovers over the song appears to contain almost all of the notes of the D Major scale and enough pitch modulation to disorient.)


Of course, as interesting as the polyrhythmic musical kaleidoscope manufactured by Eno is, it's David Byrne's manic preacher existentialist rant that makes the song. "And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack!" It's like one of those intriguing first lines from a novel that you can't put down. The verses are contrasted by a call-and-response chant that lets you know you're not alone in your midlife crisis and invites you to participate in the ritual.

Song #94 of 9999 - I Got You by Split Enz

Song #94 of 9999

Title: I Got You
Artist: Split Enz

Year: 1980
Album: True Colours

Not a lot of time tonight to write, but so what? You don't need me to tell you how awesome this song is. When that menacing chromatic chord progression opens up to reveal the glorious chorus, it's 100% pop bliss. Fun to think of Split Enz as the training ground for Crowded House and this song certainly shows flashes of the brilliance that will inhabit Neil Finn's future songwriting. It's also a reminder of just how well the man can sing. Enjoy.

Song #93 of 9999 - Ace of Spades by Motörhead

Song #93 of 9999

Title: Ace of Spades
Artist: Motörhead

Year: 1980
Album: Ace of Spades

I first heard "Ace of Spades" when Motörhead showed up unexpectedly in an episode of The Young Ones, an absurd British comedy that was showing on MTV sometime around 1985. It was a rare moment for me. I didn't exactly like what I was seeing/hearing, but I also didn't want to stop watching/listening, I had certainly never seen anything like this band. Lemmy Kilminster is scary with his mic positioned overhead and that gravelly voice. Remember, I was used to seeing guys with Rickenbacker basses in bands like Rush and Yes, wearing capes and singing with high-pitched voices about philiosophy and Ayn Rand. This was....a shock to my system.


I never became a big Motörhead fan but I love this song. The live energy of the recording, propelled by the drumming of Phil Taylor, is invigorating and I love the guitar work, especially the solos. I think hearing this song probably made me more interested in bands like Metallica and Megadeth than I would have been otherwise. Still an exciting track 30 years later that holds up very well to today's metal.

Song #92 of 9999 - The Spirit of Radio by Rush

Song #92 of 9999

Title: The Spirit of Radio
Artist: Rush

Year: 1980
Album: Permanent Waves

It's hard to believe how much of a Rush fanatic I was 30 years ago. Around 1981, I was playing keyboard and singing in a band with three school friends who played guitar, guitar and drums. It was suggested that I learn the bass and one of the guys knew someone who was selling a 1973 Rickenbacker bass that was listed in the local classifieds. This was the same friend who probably had us performing "Tom Sawyer" and "Red Barchetta" already with me playing the bass and synth lines simultaneously on my awesome $100 Casio. I bought the bass and still own it to this day. It was probably the most significant purchase of my life.

Owning a bass sent me on a quest for great bass lines to learn. While there was an emergence of guitar-related magazines with some tablature, there was nothing like the Internet today and if you wanted to learn a song, you sat down with the record (or more likely a tape) and you figured it out. I had notebook after notebook of Rush and Yes songs written in my own blend of crude and standard music notation as I learned what was the "standard repertoire" of my youth.


I probably didn't hear "The Spirit of Radio" until 1982 or so and it wasn't a song that I immediately fell in love with. It was a little too pop by Rush's standards and I didn't really understand the point of the ridiculous simultaneous bass and guitar licks that open the tune. (But I worked like hell to learn them.) I also wasn't taken by the pseudo-reggae pap and "concert hall!" gimmickry toward the end. But this was Rush and I had chosen my path and it meant loving everything they released and trying my best to sound exactly like Geddy Lee. They provided a remarkable collection of etudes and a proving ground for me and my fellow musicians and, for that, I'll always be grateful.

Songs #89, 90, and 91: It's THREEsday! (normally, it's TWOsday)

Song #89 of 9999                                 Song #90 of 9999                                  Song #91 of 9999

Title: It's Still Rock and Roll To Me       Title: Crazy Little Thing Called Love      Title: (Just Like) Starting Over

Artist: Billy Joel                                     Artist: Queen                                          Artist: John Lennon

Year: 1980                                            Year: 1980                                              Year: 1980

Album: Glass Houses                           Album: The Game                                  Album: Double Fantasy

I guess every generation has a tendency to hearken back to a previous time and 1980 was no different. As songwriting was becoming increasingly less complex and a return to the three-minute song was emerging, artists could choose to move in one of two directions: the new wave future with all of its synthesizers and drum machines or the nostalgic past when rock and roll was born. Although all three of these artists (except maybe John Lennon—and probably only due to his untimely death) did eventually test the new wave waters, they chose in 1980 to return to the past, specifically to the sound of the mid- to late-1950s.


Billy Joel's track is actually kind of a best-of-both-worlds approach with the verses sounding like a lot of the guitar-based new wave bands (perhaps Blondie or The Cars) but the chorus breaks out into a rollicking feel reminiscent of Chuck Berry or Jerry Lee Lewis complete with a 50s-era sax solo. This dichotomy is part of the gimmick, I suppose, since the lyric aims to put "the new sound" in its place a bit. For me, it's the least effective of the three nostalgia songs precisely for this reason, but it's a fun song nonetheless.


In Queen's shuffle "Crazy Little Thing Called Love," Freddie Mercury trades opera for Elvis and turns out a pretty good impression. Technically, this is the best approximation of the music it wishes to emulate—everything is in its right place and in all the right proportions: the walking bass line, the call-and-response vocal harmonies and the vocal hiccups we remember from artists like Buddy Holly and Gene Vincent. But best of all, the song provides an opportunity for Brian May to lay down a masterful guitar track with a solo that would have made Check Berry proud.


On the "stripped down" version of Double Fantasy, John Lennon says in reference to "Starting Over," "this one's for Gene, Eddie and Elvis....and Buddy!" Of course, he's referring to Gene Vincent, Eddie Cochran, Elvis Presley and Buddy Holly. You can probably add Roy Orbison to the list too. Unlike Joel and the boys from Queen, Lennon had already experienced the influence of these artists first-hand when he was playing with The Beatles in the early 1960s. And his song is the most genuine to me in its construction and performance. Yes, it hearkens back to this other time and borrows from his childhood heroes, but the song is unquestionably Lennon. I could write a lot about the chord choices—the augmented chords, the 6th chords, etc.—but this post is getting long so I'll save it for another time. I'll just say I think this song best captures the essence of the time period all three of these songs were honoring. It's a true masterpiece of pop.

Song #88 of 9999 - Spring Collection by The Vapors

Song #88 of 9999

Title: Spring Collection
Artist: The Vapors

Year: 1980
Album: New Clear Days

This is about to get tough for me. It has been pretty easy to be analytical about songs from 1950 and '60 because it was not the music of my youth and I'm pretty disconnected from it. I suspect the 90s and 2000s will fare similarly. But the 1980s....this is the music I grew up with and it holds so much sentimental value that it tends to bypass the brain and go straight to my heart. Simply making a list of songs from 1980 was a difficult task; narrowing it down to seven for this week's posts seems impossible. (It doesn't help that I just realized I gave 1970 an extra song!)


So I'm going to try to pick songs that are perhaps a little off the beaten path, starting with one very few people probably know. If you don't even recognize the band name, that's okay; The Vapors had only one hit called "Turning Japanese." But for me, this was the first band that really made me feel...rebellious. Trust me, I understand how pathetic that is. The end of the 70s brought The Clash, The Sex Pistols, The Ramones—none of that stuff connected with me like The Vapors' New Clear Days, which I listened to whenever I was angry, frustrated or sad. I devoured this album and it's still one of my favorites to this day.


In reviewing songs for this post, I was happy to see how well it holds up. It's really a great pop record, which is probably why I preferred it to the punk bands I mentioned earlier and to other post-punk bands who attained greater popularity. "Spring Collection" has a great riff to open the song, a subtle rhythm guitar part, a clever pre-chorus chord progression, great vocal harmonies and a bouncy beat. This isn't my favorite song from the record, but I think it's a good alternative to "Turning Japanese" for the Vapors novice.

Song #87 of 9999 - No Sugar Tonight/New Mother Nature by The Guess Who

Song #87 of 9999

Title: No Sugar Tonight/New Mother Nature
Artist: The Guess Who

Year: 1970
Album: American Woman

It's my last day in 1970 and I was looking at a whole bunch of good songs (which I'll keep to myself for future years!), including "American Woman" by The Guess Who. While researching, I discovered that the B-side was "No Sugar Tonight" (remember this still during a time when the record company was willing to put two hits on one 45—can you imagine "Penny Lane" and "Strawberry Fields Forever" on the same single today?). This led me to the album version which is actually quite interesting.

So apparently, Randy Bachman (yes, the same guy from Bachman-Turner Overdrive), came up with this song "No Sugar Tonight," presented it to lead singer Burton Cummings and the record company and it was deemed too short (which is weird because it's the exact song that appears on the single, clocking in at 2:04, but whatever...). Cummings, in the meantime, had written this other song "New Mother Nature," which happened to be in the same key and they figured out a way to join the two and voilà!—album cut. 

But what's interesting to me is how well these two verses fit together. I wonder how much, if any, rewriting they had to do to make it work. Bachman's tune has these short, two-beat lines that alternately descend and ascend quickly (8-6-5, 3-4-5), while Cumming's tune has an ascending blues-based melody that requires nearly two bars to get through one line. The way these two melodies blend at 3:54 is really quite clever and seems almost too perfect to be a coincidence. The real stroke of near-genius (I mean, come on—it's The Guess Who, not Beethoven) is the little waltz-like interlude that connects the two songs and I like that they were smart enough to preview it at the beginning of the track, prepping the listener for what's to come. Very intelligent writing from our friends in the Great White North.


See you tomorrow in 1980. Oh, and don't forget I now have a Spotify playlist of all the songs featured in my blog. Become a subscriber!