“But The Cure weren’t even Goth! Or so I heard it argued back in the day. How can you be something that hasn’t even been named yet? What they were, was good, sometimes great, which is true of Caterpillar, a wigged out pop experiment if there ever was one. Nothing does what you expect it to, but it always works, keeps the foot tapping, the head nodding, the earworm slithering.” (Philip Random)
Wherein American punk-hard-core (whatever you want to call it) bushwackers Black Flag unleash a profound anthem of insight and purpose unto the world. Because we’ve all done it, invested precious hours of our lives in smoking dope, drinking cheap swill, watching crap on TV. Originally found on an EP of the same name, but most of us heard it first care of the Repo Man Soundtrack which, it’s true, probably saved the western world, but first it had to destroy it.
In which the band known as Spear of Destiny deliver some seriously Big Music. U2 started the trend, sort of. The Waterboys put a name to it. Any number of bands played it through the 80s. Not just big in terms of sound, but also intention. Change the world. Overthrow kings. Right what is wrong. Tell the truth. Praise God (or whoever). Much of it ended up being pretty embarrassing, of course, but every now and then you just couldn’t argue with the power, the passion, the enormity. Like Liberator. “Exactly what you needed to hear in 1984, what with Big Brother officially on the move and all.” (Philip Random)
Second of two in a row from Midnight Oil, who by the mid-80s weren’t just wearing their progressive politics on their sleeves, their front man Peter Garrett was actually running for office (no he didn’t win, but he would eventually). Red Sails At Sunset was their album of the moment (telling big scary, ugly truths about racism, nuclear apocalypse, environmental meltdown), with Best Of Both World standing tall as a possible alternative Australian national anthem. “I’d stand for it.” (Philip Random)
“Two in a row from the album (and movie) that finally made Prince a fact, even for white guys from the Canadian suburbs – that album being Purple Rain, of course. Not that I didn’t already think the guy was pretty darned cool in a funky r+b sort of way. You couldn’t hear twenty seconds of 1999 without thinking that. But after Purple Rain, I guess I just wasn’t seeing the colour anymore (other than purple). After Purple Rain, I realized this guy was the closest the 80s would ever get to having its own Bowie, or Beatles even. I’d crossed over, drank the paisley purple koolaid, seen God (or something similar). Every song on the album deserves to be hailed, and heard. But you probably have already heard most of them on the radio or whatever. Except maybe Computer Blue and Darling Nikki (the raunchy duo that brought Side One to a dramatic conclusion). Needless to say, they .got decent folk all hot and bothered at the time.” (Philip Random)
“It was 1984 finally, and the nightmare of George Orwell’s Big Brother hadn’t really materialized. True, there was great evil in the world, agents of brutality and control endeavoring to shut down all peace-beauty-freedom-love forever. But the outcome was still in doubt, because they didn’t yet have music under control. They weren’t even close. Maybe they had the mainstream (the Whitney Houstons, the Duran Durans, the Huey Lewises and Phil Collinses), but who the f*** cared about that crap with wild and inventive stuff erupting all over the margins, from all genres in all kinds of guises. Case in point, the Maffia, c/o Mark Stewart and On-U Sound (and its mainman, producer, knob-twiddler, dub adventurer, Adrian Sherwood), none of whom I noticed until 1984’s Pay It All Back Vol.1 crash-landed in my brain – a label sampler offering all manner of tortured beats, breaks, samples, meltdowns long before we even had names for such stuff. At least Hallelujah had a familiar melody you could hang onto.” (Philip Random)
Randophonic 