THEME: The '80s
As anyone who's even ever spoken to me knows, I'm fairly into the eighties. Okay, that's an understatement, but it's all semi-ironic since the decade was over before I was even conceived. But anyway, you don't care about that, right? Let's get to the music, right? That's great.



[All YouSendIt files, except for the last two and "Green Eyes", which are RapidShare]

Man, the Replacements. I hope this band doesn't need an introduction from me anymore. They have plenty of songs it could be worthwhile to post under this theme, but the one I immediately thought of was Bastards of Young, taken from 1985 masterpiece Tim (Sire). 1985 was a major turning point in American college rock - Hüsker Dü had just made the jump from indie label SST to Warner Bros. and many others had started to follow suit. Everyone assumed the Replacements, poster children for self-sabotaging anti-corporation indie would never do the same - until Seymour Stein, president of Sire Records, caught a New York gig and became determined to sign them. Amid cries of sellout, the band released their fourth LP to a surprisingly receptive audience, who quickly learned that "sellout" couldn't be further from the truth. Just to prove this point was 'Bastards of Young', opening Side 2 with Paul Westerberg's hoarse yell, the song a battle cry for a disaffected and out-of-place generation, kids born in the late fifties and early sixties who felt they had "no war to name us", kids who "on the ladder of success, take one step and miss the whole first rung". Sire thought the song, marked by Bob Stinson's immediately-recognizable guitar riff, had single potential, and pressured the group to release a video. The 'Mats would have none of this, of course, and shot a video that consisted solely of a stereo playing the song - completely ruining any chance at commercial success, and yet instantly memorable in the minds of MTV viewers.

The Jesus and Mary Chain were another college-rock staple (um, is this a trend?) at the time, and for good reason. Their first record, Psychocandy, also released in 1985, was quickly regarded as a classic, and certainly lived up to its title - it featured waves of loud, feedbacky guitar layered over sweet pop melodies and Jim and William Reid's countless lyrics about speed, girls, guns and motorbikes. The lead single "Just Like Honey" received quite a bit of airplay on MTV and remains possibly their best-known song (at least in part due to its recent use in Lost in Translation). While it's a fantastic album, my favorite of theirs is their second release, 1987's Darklands (Blanco Y Negro). The album seemed slightly stripped-down - the melodies and lyrics stayed as strong as ever, but much of the feedback had been removed. The single April Skies is a classic indicator of where the Mary Chain was at the time - maturing in their lyrical and musical abilities but still producing consistently catchy and beautiful songs.

Hüsker Dü, as previously mentioned, signed to Warner Bros. in 1985 - they had released their fourth LP, New Day Rising, early in the year and were making plans to release a second - but on their former label, SST. It was a controversial decision, because as soon as Flip Your Wig was released, everyone knew Warner could have made it a hit. The Hüskers, like the Replacements, had a sound that consistently changed over their career - lately they had been moving from their trademark hardcore into more typical indie rock territory, aided in large part by drummer/co-songwriter Grant Hart's McCartneyesque pop sensibilities. Green Eyes (link should be fixed now!) is the perfect example. Swathed in Bob Mould and Greg Norton's respective huge guitar-and-bass wall of sound, "Green Eyes" is a classic love song, almost bizarre coming from a group previously known for their anger.

Although later best known to be "depressing", the Smiths astounded the world with the daring love song that would become their first single "Hand in Glove". Johnny Marr's jangly guitar, a staple of the band's music, was in full-force, the song carried by Morrissey's keening paean to a love that was "not like any other love". I mean, what more can you say about a band whose first single includes the line "the sun shines out of our behinds"? However forceful a first impression this was, the world would be surprised once more with the first track on their self-titled debut (1984, Rough Trade), the gorgeous Reel Around the Fountain. It's another typical Smiths song - unreasonably long, and yet you never want it to end, lyrics of unrequited sexual longing ("you can pin and mount me like a butterfly"?) that still remain beautiful. Marr's chiming circular riff and a lovely organ part, with one of Morrissey's best vocal performances make this song what it is. This song was actually banned by the BBC for allegedly referring to "child molestation" - a claim that would obviously prove unfounded.

R.E.M. would almost certainly be the best-known band to spring out of the Southern underground scene populated by bands like Method Actors, Let's Active, Jason & the Scorchers and Pylon. Though at first maybe being best known for Michael Stipe's completely unintelligible vocals, the word spread that hey, maybe these guys had appeal beyond futile lyric-transcription sessions. Harborcoat, kicking off their second LP Reckoning (1984, IRS) is the quintessential early-R.E.M. song - an upbeat track with still-nonsensical lyrics ("there's a splinter in your eye and it reads REACT!") and Peter Buck (Byrds devotee extraordinaire)'s charming riffs, all held together by the bright rhythm section of Mike Mills and Bill Berry.

But for every band like R.E.M., who found their way to mainstream success after years of obscurity, there were twenty more who never made it past one or two EPs. Sure, there were varying degrees of anonymity - Guadalcanal Diary, for instance, eventually achieved relative fame - but a hallmark of any college town is three or more indie bands and that was certainly the case for every one in America. Everyone knows the feeling of being overlooked, when someone doesn't get the recognition they deserve, and one such band was (the unfortunately ironically-named) Attention. To be honest, I would never have heard of them if not for a wonderful blog called Little Hits. They released one EP, I guess, entitled What Have We Done (1985, MB/3) - I'm fairly sure it's out of print, so as such it's impossible to find on Amazon or eBay or whatever and the band's name is definitely not Googleable. I've been able to find a copy on a site called Flipside Records, but I don't know how trustworthy that is. Anyway, the song posted at Little Hits is called Statesong, and it immediately caught my ear, a wistful love song (more jangly guitars) with a rough-voiced lead singer, perfectly characterizing all the bands that rose up around the same time in the wake of R.E.M. It's a wonderful song and it breaks my heart to know that no one is ever going to know this band.

Naturally, the same situation was occurring across the pond, and one band that did rise to the level they deserve to become an influential giant was, of course, the Cure. From their roots as a teenage punk band in 1970s Crawley, the group had been steadily metamorphosing within the public eye, until they reached the climax with their epic Disintegration (1989, Fiction). The lead track, Plainsong is much like the rest of the album - even the music helps to instigate the rainstorm imagery that characterizes Disintegration, beginning with gentle wind chimes that seem almost sinister in their utter foreshadowing, instantly recalling a gathering of thunderclouds - and off into a giant orchestral sweep. This is the Cure at their best and most cohesive, songs that are better heard in the context of the album. The Cure, as well, were infamous for being "depressing", although it was richly deserved in this case, for no other band could ever pen an LP that described heartbreak as well as this.

Finally, Robyn Hitchcock, formerly of the Soft Boys, was another major purveyor of the jangle - far too poorly-unknown for his genius, although cited as a major influence by contemporaries like the Replacements and R.E.M., and by more recent bands like the Decemberists. Painting himself as an offbeat Dylan disciple, Robyn released a string of fantastic albums during the eighties both solo and with his backing group the Egyptians. His songs are characterized by cheerful melodies and lyrics that were humorous but touching, and likely to concern insects, fish or trains. Another Bubble, from his album fegMANIA! (1985, Slash) is pretty much all of those things, though the lyric is noticeably free of anthropomorphizing, instead describing a failing relationship from the outside - "It takes two, and one of them is always you - it takes two, and one of them is someone too."

Of course, there are tons and tons of other songs that I could post here, but I feel this is a good start. One purchase I highly, highly recommend making to anyone interested in this sort of stuff is Left of the Dial: Dispatches From the '80s Underground a boxed set that is well worth the price and contains many of my favorite bands, and a lot of the artists mentioned above - it's a Rhino comp, so obviously it's good! Another item to buy is Michael Azerrad's great book Our Band Could Be Your Life: Scenes From the American Indie Underground 1981-1991, featuring biographies of Black Flag, the Minutemen, Minor Threat and other bands who helped to make the scene what it was. Anyway, this is a great, great theme and I'm so glad it's happening - now I guess I'm just gonna sit back and hope somebody posts Mission of Burma.