Category Archives: Songs from 1981

Album: Prayers on Fire, 1981

Justification: It’s weird, you know: my best friend Adam and I used to violently hate this song when we were in early high school. I think we’d seen it on Rage or something, and whenever we wanted to indicate that a song or a band we were watching was shit we’d start going “Niiiiiiiiiick the striiiiiiippeeeeeeerrrrrrr! Hideous to the eye!” in stentorian tones. And then Ads would start singing Scritti Politti‘s ‘Asylums in Jerusalem’, which I loved, and then I’d get all shitty and he’d laugh at me.

So he’d probably laugh at me now, because some years later – with my tastes someone more mature – I heard this again and went “…the HELL? This is amazing!” Tracy Pew’s filthy bass lines, the slashing guitar/brass line, Cave’s demented vocal: it’s got pretty much everything that I was to want from music for the next decade or so. And has there ever been a more contemptuous insult than “he’s a fat little insect”? Nope. There’s not.

SONG YOU SHOULD HAVE REDISCOVERED THIS TIME IN 2010: Matthew Sweet was making his brief yet indelible mark with the mighty ‘Girlfriend’.

SONG YOU SHOULD HAVE REDISCOVERED THIS TIME IN 2011: Ah, the sweet and yet wonderfully bitter sounds of the Sundays and the glorious ‘Here’s Where The Story Ends’.

AND HERE’S THE LAST FIVE…

515: Jonathan Richman: Since She Started To Ride (24 Sep)

516: Sandie Shaw & the Smiths: Hand in Glove (2 Oct)

517. The Fauves: Self Abuser (8 Oct)

518. Beastie Boys: Hey Ladies (26 Oct)

519. Elliot Smith: Son of Sam (8 Nov)

Album: Thirty Thousand Feet Over China, 1981

Justification: This is as much for me as it is for you, beloved readers who Google Analytics assure me number in the several, for this is a song that I didn’t remember that I knew until Catcall did a cover of it as the final track on her (absolutely magnificent) recent album ‘The Warmest Place’. Her version is pretty respectful, but it wasn’t until I hunted it down and heard that oh-so-post-punk guitar delay that I went “Ah! THAT song!” Lousy memory, you have no business telling other people to remember stuff.

You know, that’s a nice sleeve. How the hell did this stiff at #25?

The Passions are often described as one hit wonders, with this being the hit, but since it only reached #25 on the UK charts I’d argue even this overestimates their success by a large margin. However, John Peel loved ‘em, and now I’m going to have to hunt their album down since this song is freakin’ amazing. The band was formed by the two things that stand out on this track: Barbara Gogan, owner of the voice, and Clive Timperley, who played the memory-jogging guitar line (and had been in Joe Strummer’s pre-Clash band The 101ers, fact fans). Timperley quit after this album and the band disintegrated mid-1983. Apparently the subject is one Steve Connelly, who’d done a couple of bit parts in German films but whose day job was roadie for the Clash and the Sex Pistols. The former, I’m guessing, kept him busier than the latter.

And what a song it is. Thank you, Ms Catherine K. You have exquisite taste in covers.

SONG YOU SHOULD HAVE REDISCOVERED THIS TIME IN 2010 and 2011: Nothing! Fine, have a look at the 1981 archives. They’re pretty great.

AND HERE’S THE LAST FIVE…

481. Billy Bragg: Sexuality (14 June)

482. The Weakerthans: Civil Twilight (18 June)

483. Beck: Nicotine & Gravy (19 June)

 484. Teenage Fanclub: What You Do To Me (20 June)

485. Blur: Beetlebum (25 June)

Album: The Sunnyboys, 1981

Justification: Because I saw the Sunnyboys play it yesterday, that’s why.

In 1981, all Australian bands could levitate. That's just what they did.

I didn’t even know that they were playing until I was waiting for the bus to Dig It Up, the Hoodoo Gurus Invitational – a day long festival of awesomeness at four venues which also included the Fleshtones (amazing), the Sonics (amazing), Rob Younger and Deniz Tek from Radio Birdman (amazing), Royal Headache (amazing), Redd Kross (amazing), the 5678s (abysmal) and a bunch of other bands before the Gurus played Stoneage Romeos start to finish. And there was a band in the middle of the day called Kids in Dust, who I just assumed was some coolsie combo I wasn’t aware of. But no: it turned out to be the Sunnyboys, playing for the first time since 1991 after being split in the 80s by the pressures of stardom and, rather more importantly, the increasingly intense schizophrenia suffered by singer/songwriter/guitarist Jeremy Oxley. In fact, when the band (original line up, fact fans) took the stage, Jeremy had a tech getting him comfortable, picking up his water for him and so forth. He also had the enormous build that is a symptom for long term use of antipsychotics (Daniel Johnston, you have a kindred spirit here).

But then he opened his mouth and dammit, it was like he’d never been away. He also both cooked and wailed on the guitar. I hadn’t really had time to get excited about seeing them, but every song was a “AH! I LOVE this!” moment – ’Love to Rule’, ‘Show Me Some Discipline’, ‘Alone With You’, and this, their debut single (well, not counting their self-titled EP from the year before, technically). The Enmore was packed to the rafters and I have never seen that many people crying with joy at a gig before.

A magical moment. And one hell of a song.

SONG YOU SHOULD HAVE REDISCOVERED THIS TIME IN 2010: Oh, the Jam: was there ever any better song you did than ‘Town Called Malice’? No. No there was not.

SONG YOU SHOULD HAVE REDISCOVERED THIS TIME IN 2011: Eh, the 22nd’s close enough:have Magazine and ‘Shot By Both Sides’.

AND HERE’S THE LAST FIVE…

 456. Mojo Nixon & Skid Roper: Elvis is Everywhere (11 Apr)

457. Jens Lekman: You Are The Light (12 Apr)

458. The Magnetic Fields: Andrew in Drag (13 Apr)

459. Cracker: Teen Angst (What the World Needs Now) (16 Apr)

460. Of Montreal: Disconnect the Dots (17 Apr)

Album: Music from Monkey Grip EP 1981, Desperate 1983

Justification: “Why aren’t you doing ‘I Touch Myself’?” my outraged girlfriend demanded as I searched for this video. “It’s the greatest song ever about girls, touching themselves.”

Well, it’s… um, clear? There’s not really a joke here. Sorry.

And to be fair, she has a point: it’s certainly superior to Cyndi Lauper’s ‘She Bop’, which is the only other song about female masturbation I can think of right at the moment – that and Berlin’s ‘Sex (I’m A)’, at least – but this is the superior song – not to mention the superior video – for a number of reasons. The song speaks for itself (even though yes, it does sound a little bit ‘Eye of the Tiger’, despite pre-dating Survivor’s classic by over a year), but video-wise it’s got Chrissie Amphlett looking young and pouty, which I remember being one of the first times in my life that I was very aware of being heterosexual – an exciting discovery to have at around the age of nine. It also has her waving around a fluorescent tube mic stand, which was second only to the weird ride-on one that Julian Cope had in the clip to ‘World Shut Your Mouth’ in terms of Mic Stands I Totally Wanted To Have.

Anyway: this was their first single, it was originally from the soundtrack EP for the film Monkey Grip (which featured Amphlett and co-founder/guitarist Mark McEntee), and it got put on the international release of the Desperate album but not on the local one, because people in Australia were clearly idiots. I didn’t particularly love the Divinyls from here on in – ‘Science Fiction’ is still a deserved classic, but ‘Pleasure and Pain’ was overplayed, as were ‘I Touch Myself’ and ‘I Ain’t Gonna Eat Out My Heart Anymore’, so I’m not entirely sure why I love this song so damn much. For some reason it reminds me of long night drives with my family, so maybe it was playing on the radio during some xmas holiday jaunt in the Street past (‘Twist of Fate’ by Olivia Newtown-John evokes similar memories, incidentally).

So there you go: pre-pubescent sexuality mixed with sleepy family memories. That’s a lot for a fairly short pop song to contain. No wonder the drummer’s sweating so hard.

I was genuinely shocked when I heard Amphlett had MS and that the band would be calling it a day permanently. I wish I’d seen them at Homebake a few years back.

SONG YOU SHOULD HAVE REDISCOVERED THIS TIME IN 2010: What a song. WHAT A SONG: Adorable and ‘Homeboy’. Best bassline ever, just try to deny it.

SONG YOU SHOULD HAVE REDISCOVERED THIS TIME IN 2011: Another undeniable classic: They Might Be Giants and their apostrophe-heavy breakthrough single, ‘Don’t Let’s Start’.

AND HERE’S THE LAST FIVE…

444. The Handsome Family: Your Great Journey (16 Mar)

445. Bacarra: Yes Sir, I Can Boogie (19 Mar)

446. Magic Dirt: Plastic Loveless Letter (20 Mar)

447. New York Dolls: Personality Crisis (22 Mar)

448. The Cult: She Sells Sanctuary (26 Mar)

Album: Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret, 1981

Justification: This was one of the go-to songs for DJ Chris Pike, the man behind the decks during the couple of late-90s years where every Saturday night began or ended (or both) at Adelaide pool hall Shotz. And it’s a good, easy win of a song: catchy, a bit saucy, not the most obvious Soft Cell song since it’s not ‘Tainted Love’: I really should have followed his example during my occasional sets at Britpop, really. It would have killed between ‘To Cut A Long Story Short’ and ‘Don’t You Want Me’.

This was from Soft Cell’s awesome debut album, but all their stuff’s remarkably good – including the little-loved 2002 reunion album Beauty without Cruelty.

SONG YOU SHOULD HAVE REDISCOVERED THIS TIME IN 2010: Have a look at the 1981 archives – it’s pretty sweet.

AND HERE’S THE LAST FIVE…

390. MGMT: Kids (28 Nov)

391. Blake Babies: Out There (29 Nov) 

392. Jona Lewie: You’ll Always Find Me in the Kitchen at Parties (30 Nov)

393. Sugar: If I Can’t Change Your Mind (1 Dec) 

394. The Sugarcubes: Hit (2 Dec)

Album: Prince Charming, 1981

Justification: This came to mind for a variety of reasons. Mainly because it’s on one of the radio stations for Saints Row the Third, which I’m playing at the moment. Also because I remember playing it with Reckoning on a couple of occasions when they and the Undecided played together. And also because hell, it’s a great song – and I have a soft spot for Adam and the Ants, as expressed one hundred-odd posts ago.

And heck, look at the video? It’s hilarious. While the notion of the band-as-gang had been established as early as the Beatles, the notion of band-as-gang-of-dandy-highwaymen is, as far as I’m aware, uniquely Anty.

SONG YOU SHOULD HAVE REDISCOVERED THIS TIME IN 2010: My Bloody Valentine’s world-changing single ‘Soon’.

AND HERE’S THE LAST FIVE…

383. Spoon: Jonathon Fisk (17 Nov)

384. Fountains of Wayne: Denise (18 Nov)

385. The Notwist: One with the Freaks (21 Nov)

386. The Sundays: Here’s Where the Story Ends (22 Nov)

387. Gentle Ben & His Sensitive Side: The Beginning of the End (23 Nov)

Album: The Sunnyboys, 1981

Justification: Here’s a band that deserves a renaissance. In the early 80s the Sunnyboys were the sound of the east coast beaches, but by 1984 they’d acrimoniously split thanks to the pressures of early success and, increasingly, the nascent schizophrenia of singer/songwriter Jeremy Oxley. But that was all to come: this was from their first ever EP, a self-titled 7”, and was a major hit when released as the second single from their self-titled debut album. They had trouble naming records, it would seem.

The band’s legacy was considerable: guitarist Richard Burgman played in the Saints for a while before joining Weddings Parties Anything, while the Peter Oxley/Bill Bilson rhythm section formed the Sparklers which launched the career of Peter and Jeremy’s little sister Melanie, but it’s their run of early singles for which the Sunnyboys are justly remembered. Or would be, if there was any justice in rock’n’roll.

Jeremy formed a short-lived “new” Sunnyboys in the late 80s, and the band reunited for the Mushroom Records 25th Anniversary concert in 1998 (with yet another Oxley, Tim, subbing on guitar for the now-Canada-resident Burgman), but Jeremy’s ongong health issues put the kibosh on anything long term.

Feel Records put out a superb anthology called This Is Real that is a) comprehensive, and b) about the only way to get hold of any of their material these days on CD, since it’s long been deleted (and much was only available on vinyl in any case). That said: Warner Music’s recent (and welcome) policy of parcelling out the Mushroom back catalogue on iTunes has meant that all their albums are now available digitally, along with countless other classic Australian records that would otherwise now simply not exist. So, while we’re on the subject, who fancies giving me access to the rooArt, White, Murmur and early Modular archives?

THIS TIME IN 2010: Oh, it was probably Easter and I took a break. That’d be right.

Album: single, 1981, Big Science 1982

Justification: Laurie Anderson wasn’t going to be a star. She wasn’t even really a popular musician: she was a respected member of New York’s performance art scene, best known for her theatrically intriguing audio-visual performances. And then she went to number 2 on the UK charts with this freakishly weird song.

The reason? John Peel.

The late, great John Peel is still the reason why people become radio DJs. Almost universally beloved during his lifetime, his never-flagging love for music was instrumental in breaking acts in the UK that would never have made a dent otherwise. He was an early champion of Pulp, the first person to play the Smiths, popularised the whole “band comes in and records for the radio” thing with The Peel Sessions, and the only reason that anyone knows of the Fall is because he wouldn’t stop playing them, despite everything common sense surely would have been telling him. He heard ‘O Superman’, a piece Anderson had originally written as part of her performance art suite United States and released as a single through a small NYC indie label, thought it was one of the weirdly beautiful things he’d ever heard, and promptly starting playing it. All eight minutes of it.

Number 2, for god’s sake. And this is back when people bought singles.

The subtitle, by the way, is a nod to the French composer Julies Massenet, whose 1885 opera Le Sid contained the refrain ”Ô Souverain, ô juge, ô père” (“o sovereign, o judge, o father”), which Anderson refashions here “o Superman, o judge, o mom and dad”.

Warners promptly signed her on the back of ‘O Superman”s success, leading to her carving up United States to make the universally acclaimed Big Science album, which had a major influence on electronic music (especially in the US – and most of the album’s been sampled in one way or another, especially the creepy real-time plane crash narrative of ‘From the Air’).

I got to interview Anderson in 2010 when she and her hubby Lou Reed curated the Vivid Festival at the Opera House. For a stone-cold genius with a formidable catalogue of highbrow work across a number of disciplines (including inventing a bunch of electronic instruments, by the way), I wasn’t expecting someone quite so a) sweetly motherly, and b) damn funny. One of my favourite interviews, that one.

Album: Beauty & the Beat, 1981

Justification: The Go-Gos, dear reader, were awesome. Sure, they got characterised as Cute Chicks What Played Instruments in the general media, but the “What Played Instruments” bit was the most interesting thing (although, yeah, they were also pretty cute). They also wrote really great pop songs, like this one.

Here’s the interesting thing about it: it appears that guitarist Jane Wiedlin wrote the song herself, but took the inspiration from a letter she received from Specials co-founder Terry Hall, with whom she had a brief and torrid affair when her band was based in the UK during 1980 (where they recorded for Stiff and toured with Madness – yes, they were super-cool chicks). That inspiration got him a co-writing credit, and his post-Specials band Fun Boy Three had a top ten hit with their (slower, somewhat lyrically different) version. But the Go-Gos version is the definitive one, obviously: Belinda Carlisle’s perky vocal gives what could be quite a gloomy lyric a defiant joy.

The Go-Gos are all still doing stuff, by the way, aside from the occasional reunions. Everyone knows about Carlisle’s very successful solo career, but guitarist/co-founder Wiedlin’s had a moderately successful solo career (and a less impressive one with froSTed, about which I interviewed her in 1996 when their sole album Cold was released) and, aside from doing music and making comic books, is also an ordained marriage celebrant. Guitarist Charlotte Caffey is a jobbing songwriter, writing hits for Carlisle and Keith Urban, bassist Kathy Valentine is an indie producer and makes country records as The Blue Bonnets, and drummer Gina Schock has guaranteed her place in hell as songwriter for Disney succubi Miley Cyrus and Selene Gomez.

It’s also been covered quite a bit but my favourite non-GG version is by Spiderbait, who did it as a b-side and retitled it as ‘Alex the Seal’, which – if memory serves – is what bassist Janet English thought the song was called when she was a child.

Album: Homosapien, 1981

Justification: It’s odd that this song has slipped by the wayside. For one thing, it’s great. For a second, it was the debut solo single for Pete Shelley after Buzzcocks split up in 1981. For a third, it got banned by the BBC for having “explicit references to gay sex”, although it appears that these supposedly “explicit” references only became clear after Shelley came out as bisexual. But thank heavens it got banned: nothing could be more subversive than an infectiously catchy song making a case that love is a quintessentially human experience and that this is something that we all share, regardless of specifics about sexuality – right, kids? Society would crumble!

Incidentally, I don’t know what the explicit reference to gay sex actually is here. It’s been claimed it was “Homo superior/In my interior”, but that’s not really explicit so much as a bit sly. And hell, when Shelley wanted to write explicit – ‘Orgasm Addict’ springs to mind – he damn well wrote explicit. Besides which, “homo superior” is less likely to be a flag-waving challenge to a heteronormative society than a cutely fannish reference to Bowie‘s ‘Lady Stardust’ [NOTE: see comments].

Fun fact: bass on this was played by Barry Adamson, then just late of Magazine (where he’d played with Buzzcocks’ other co-founder Howard Devoto) and pre- his stint in the Bad Seeds.

I can’t remember the last time I DJed without playing this.