Category: Music

If you know any 80s music at all, you’re probably heard British artist Gary Numan’s single “Cars”. To be honest, I don’t care for that song very much; it’s one of those songs I only marginally liked back in the day, and now that I’ve heard it a million times, I’m just friggin’ sick of it.

However, before Numan became a solo artist, he led a modestly-successful band called Tubeway Army. Their first album – Tubeway Army – was guitar-heavy and sounded like most of the other “Britpunk” that was around at the time. By the time Tubeway Army’s second album, Replicas, was released in 1979, the band had changed.  Numan had changed his name from Gary Webb, and had gotten heavily into synthesizers. What had been your basic three-chord punk band had been transformed into an early synthpop band, and a dark one at that. Numan seemed to be trapped in a paradox: on the one hand, he was readily embracing new technology in his music; at the same time, it seemed to scare him. Just like Simple Minds’ “Real to Real” (another “Song I Love”), Numan seemed to be deathly worried about machines taking over the world and removing humans from the equation. And no song illustrates this better than “Down In The Park”.

Lyrically, the song is completely dystopian. It tells the story of a world where androids called “machmen” rape and kill humans for sheer entertainment – much like like the days of Roman gladiators… only this time humans are pulling for the machines to win. The humans have numerically-named android friends (“Down in the Park, with a friend called Five”) that accompany them to a club called “Zom Zoms” to watch the carnage. If it sounds to you like something straight out of a Philip K. Dick novel… well, you’d be right. The whole atmospheric feel that the song evokes is just creepy. It’s like an entire Sci-Fi movie in one three minute song. Have a listen for yourself and tell me what you think:

[audio:tubeway.mp3]

The Essex Green is an indie band from Brooklyn, New York. The band was originally based in Burlington, Vermont, where they were known as Guppyboy. However, a couple of members left Guppyboy; the “core” of the band decided to move to New York and try again.

The Essex Green’s “sound” is hard to pin down, as it changes quite a bit. This is especially true because the singing duties are split between guitarist Chris Ziter and keyboardist Sasha Bell. So sometimes it’s a guy singing, other times it’s a girl.

On their second album – The Long Goodbye – they often remind me of a mix between Yellow Submarine-era Beatles and Guadalcanal Diary. But that’s just me. Have a listen of “Lazy May” – from that album, naturally – and tell me what you think:

[audio:essex_green.mp3]

“Real to Real” is the opening track from Simple Minds’ second album, Real To Real Cacophony, which came out all the way back in 1979.

Like a lot of bands at the time, Simple Minds seemed to be obsessed with technology and the future – “Real to Real” is all about satellites and how humans can communicate with each other almost instantly… but don’t. The song is slow, airy and spacey – just the way I like my pop music. The lyrics aren’t much – Real To real cacophony\Echo echo endlessly\Satellites communicate\Pick up signal\Then translate – but that’s not the point, really. It’s one of those songs that’s all about the experience. And this experience is pretty awesome!

Go ahead – have a listen! If all you’ve heard of Simple Minds is “Don’t You Forget About Me”, you might be surprised that this is the same band!

[audio:real_to_real.mp3]

Duran Duran was my first favorite band. From 1981 to 1985, I listened to them almost constantly – and I’m sure it drove my family crazy.

Anyway, like most bands that have been around for a while, Duran Duran has had several “eras”, from the “international playboy” days of the Rio album to the “post-apocalyptic” look from the “Wild Boys” era. While I enjoyed them all, the one I liked most was the “New Romantic” look from their earliest days. They wore pirate shirts and leather pants… or cool-looking faux military uniforms. There was lots of makeup involved. Unlike bands that other kids liked (such as AC\DC), Duran Duran was all about style. And that was cool! Even better, the music was dancey and spacey. It was the perfect blend of pop and dance. There was minimal guitar action; instead there were synthesizers that sounded more like effects from a video game than the traditional sounds organs and keyboards had utilized before. There was a sort of futuristic flair to the whole thing that I simply could not resist. Early Duran Duran, in many ways, seemed like something out of Blade Runner.

And no song they ever did encapsulates this better than “Faster Than Light”, the b-side from the “Girls On Film” single. It’s funny – I used to hang out at this record store in my old hometown. This punk rock chick used to come in the store, and we’d talk music. I thought she was so hot – although to be honest, I thought pretty much every girl was hot back then. But this one actually talked to me! And one day she commented that “Faster Than Light” was her favorite Duran Duran song. And you just imagine the rest: as if straight from a movie, I rushed home and played the song over and over, thinking it was the greatest thing ever. Have a listen; maybe you’ll think the same thing too!

[audio:Duran.mp3]

Carla Bruni is an unbelievably hot French supermodel and heiress. You might know her from her modeling days, or perhaps from her well-publicized affairs with Mick Jagger, Donald Trump, Kevin Costner and Eric Clapton. But that’s not important right now. What is important is that she left the fashion world in 1998 to become a singer and songwriter. Her first album, the mostly French Quelqu’un m’a dit (Someone Told Me), was a huge hit in Europe. Three songs from the album were featured in Hans Canosa’s excellent 2005 film Conversations with Other Women, which is how I came to know Carla Bruni as a brilliant chanteuse.

“Quelqu’un M’A Dit” is the title track from the album. It’s a mostly acoustic affair, with some violins and cellos thrown in for good measure. Of course, the song’s entirely in French, so I have no idea of what she’s saying. Here’s a brief translation of the first stanza:

On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose,
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses.
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud que de nos chagrins il s’en fait des manteaux pourtant quelqu’un m’a dit…

Someone told me that our lives aren’t worth a thing,
They pass by in an instant like roses wilting.
Someone told me that times slides by like a bastard,
That he makes his blankets from our grief.
At least someone told me…

OK, so it’s not a very happy song. It’s about how short our lives are, how quickly time passes… and someone still being in love with someone else. But it’s so pretty! Have a listen for yourself:

[audio:bruni.mp3]