Did you grow up in the eighties? For me, it was the most formative of decades, musically (and otherwise) speaking. I graduated from The Clash and Elvis Costello to post-punk and new wave and that most nebulous of eighties genres, “college-rock.” But I missed out on a whole lot.
Or so I realized going through Pitchfork‘s 200 Best Albums of the Eighties. Published in 2018, the list includes the obvious, like Sign O’ the Times, Nebraska, Let It Be, and Remain in Light. But what was surprising (and fun) was the discovery of records I’d never even heard of, never mind the many albums I “knew” but had never listened to, at least, not all the way through.
The thing is, if anything, I’ve become more open-minded in my tastes as I’ve gotten older. I’ve had the good fortune of being able to make a living (you call this living? ba-boom-crash!) writing, on occasion, about music. This usually entails actually listening to the stuff, and so I’ve had to keep up. And going through this list showed me just how myopic and narrowly focused my eighties were.
Going through Pitchfork’s list got me thinking, once again, about how musical taste forms, how it changes and how it doesn’t.
The Pitchfork 200 Best Albums of the Eighties list: the winners, the losers, the never-chancers
Virgo, Tenor Saw, Ini Kamoze, Change, Nuno Canavarro, and Laurie Spiegel. Have you heard of any of these artists? I sure hadn’t, but I’ve added their records to my Spotify albums. (Note: I used Spotify to listen to just about all of these records, although I did have to resort to YouTube for a couple of them. And you can’t find De La Soul‘s 3 Feet High and Rising on any streaming service, apparently, due to copyright laws.)
Albums I was aware of but which had never listened to all the way through are almost too numerous to mention. These include just about every metal album (yes, even Metallica. Sorry James Hetfield, I know you tried!), most of the reggae, most of the hip-hop, most of the ambient/experimental—basically, anything not from Minneapolis circa 1985.
It’s embarrassing and humbling for someone who’s always prided himself on his musical taste to admit these huge blindspots. And this is just one decade!
‘You Know I’m Not a Hopeless Case’
Still, as Bono might sing, I’m not a hopeless case. The good news is that I can listen now and enjoy (in most cases), or at least appreciate just about everything on some level. While I might never again listen to Mercyful Fate, I certainly appreciate the craftsmanship, hard work and inspiration behind the Copenhagen metal act’s 1984 album Don’t Break the Oath (#198 on the list). That goes for Slayer‘s Reign in Blood, too, even though you can’t ask me to take seriously a band that names its album Reign in Blood but calls a song on the album “Raining Blood.” Okay Spinal Tap.
When it comes to hip-hop, the exercise was more of an education. This was my first time listening to albums like Kool G Rap and DJ Polo‘s Road to the Riches (#99), EPMD‘s Strictly Business (#60), and Slick Rick‘s The Adventures of Slick Rick (#48). I have a newfound fondness for hip-hop from this era, which is generally less busy and formulaic than what I hear today. Granted, most of what I hear today comes via guests on late-night talk shows and SNL.
There was also a whole bunch of punk records I’d never heard too, like Minor Threat‘s Complete Discography (#23) and Black Flag‘s Damaged (#36). Great stuff, but I just can’t summon that youthful anger anymore.
From Her to Eternity, if we must
The bad news is, I guess, while my horizons have broadened, my tastes haven’t changed all that much.
While there were many records on the list that I was happy to discover and will listen to again, there were many others that would never make my top 1000 records of the eighties, even if I could come up with such a list.
Duran Duran‘s Rio, INXS‘s Kick, and Depeche Mode‘s Music for the Masses? Listening to them in their entirety for the first time did not convince me that I’ve been missing out all these years. Listening to The Cure‘s Disintegration reminded why I have never, and probably never will be, a fan. Spelunking through all of From Her to Eternity did not make me anything more than a casual Nick Cave fan. Even after listening to all of Rain Dogs I still prefer Tom Waits‘ earlier, more conventional work.
Blasphemy? Most certainly. But I can live with it.
Yes but what about…
Naturally, there are plenty of records on the list that I love, or like a lot. There weren’t too many surprises here—Dinosaur Jr.‘s You’re Living All Over Me (#46), maybe. But in the category of artists I knew but records I didn’t, I was happy to discover Sade‘s Stronger Than Pride (#37), Talk Talk‘s New Eden (#24), and Laurie Anderson‘s Big Science (1982), among others.
Of course, I’m leaving out one important category—all those records that I love that didn’t make the list. A friend mentioned Warehouse: Songs and Stories by Husker Du (represented in the list by Zen Arcade, #68) and Steve McQueen (aka Two Wheels Good) from Prefab Sprout, for example.
But that’s a post for another day. Maybe.
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