Tatum dishes out top 10 albums of 1980s
What’s that Noise?
Michael Tatum
In terms of its music, the ’80s have been a much misunderstood
decade. Many rock fans dismiss this period entirely, citing the
time as one of squalid commercialism, epitomized by the rise of MTV
and its emphasis on style over substance.
No argument here  from Duran Duran to Phil Collins, the
Reagan/Bush years spawned some of the most vile moments in rock
history. For every worthy platinum artist like Prince, a million
A-has and Adam Ants seemed to be peddling their puny wares to
unsuspecting innocents.
But if you ignored the charts, some great music was being made.
So now you’re probably wondering, just what are the top 10 albums
of the ’80s? I thought you’d never ask. Note that I didn’t mention
Depeche Mode or INXS. That’s intentional.
10.) Sonic Youth Daydream Nation Welcome to guitar heaven.
Dissonant, dark, and faster than a speeding bullet, this visionary
record more than any other changed the way ’90s rockers looked at
their Stratocasters. The Youth’s bizarre tunings and methods of
playing (sometimes utilizing kitchen utensils instead of picks)
spawned many imitators, but no one, not even hardcore fan Neil
Young, came close to duplicating this awesome achievement. From a
riot in the mind of a screwed-up teen to a casting director who
wants Kim Gordon on his couch, the evocative lyrics transcend the
bullshit most other indie rock bands try to pawn off as poetry.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
9.) The Indestructible Beat of Soweto Forget Paul Simon’s
Graceland. Once you hear this record, comprising 12 unassailable
Afro-pop classics, it’ll be like going back to Thunderbird after
sipping Dom Perignon. Recorded by native, "relocated" (yeah, right)
African musicians in the South African townships, this music
literally sounds like no other "world" music most people have ever
heard: The lithe, spritely guitars, tuneful bass and straight ahead
4/4 rhythms have less to do with reggae than they do with … well,
rock ‘n’ roll. Proving once again that great music (not to mention
great people) can rise up from the tyranny of racial oppression and
injustice.
8.) Beastie Boys Licensed To Ill Need I say anything more? While
Run DMC resuscitated rap when it was down for the count, the
Beasties expanded its vocabulary, a feat they later built upon with
the subsequent Paul’s Boutique. Also, I have to thank them
personally for "Fight For Your Right," which provided the name of
my column.
7.) The Replacements Let It Be This record has such a garagey
feel to it you can almost smell the car exhaust. Most people favor
the more mannered, later albums, but I prefer this one for its
sloppy, anarchic guitars and scrappy, first-take vocals. Paul
Westerberg’s songwriting certainly found its best outlet here, with
the greatest tunes ever written about answering machines,
tonsillectimies and androgyny. And when he yelps at the top of his
lungs "I’m so unsatisfied," he makes you feel it.
6.) Bruce Springsteen Born In the U.S.A. Who cares if Nebraska
was less "commercial," and Tunnel of Love was more "personal?" As
much as I like those records, I’ll take this joyous, upbeat
masterpiece over them any day. Definitely as exciting as old-fogey
rock ever got. And how can you argue with seven hit singles? (In
case you’re wondering, Thriller is a very good record that didn’t
make the final cut.)
5.) Marshall Crenshaw Field Day Shamelessly tuneful love songs
from the ’80s answer to Buddy Holly. Critics stupidly maligned this
record, mostly on the basis of Steve Lillywhite’s production, which
as usual, overemphasizes the drums (think U2’s War, which
Lillywhite also produced). Those who caved in to such prejudices
missed the pure beauty of these songs, probably the best of their
kind until R.E.M.’s Out of Time. Though the fact that Crenshaw
pulled this record off with just a three piece band (guitar, bass,
and drums, no harpsichords or string section) says something.
Ignore the embarrassing cover art.
4.) X Wild Gift Chuck Berry at 125 miles per hour, courtesy of
L.A.’s greatest rock ‘n’ roll band (you Doors fans just sit down
and shut up). The tension on this record is unbelievable, from
Billy Zoom’s jaw dropping guitar workouts, to John Doe and Exene
Cervenka’s chronicling of love in the decadent punk subculture.
They don’t understand "adult books," they defend the King in the
rock’s funniest Elvis tribute song (a disgruntled bus rider screams
"Presley sucks on doggie dicks"), and wonder what happened "when
our love passed out on the couch." And when they howl, "We’re
desperate," you don’t doubt it for a minute.
3.) Public Enemy It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back
The Never Mind the Bollocks … Here’s the Sex Pistols of hip hop,
with charismatic leader Chuck D playing the part of Johnny Rotten.
Taking no shit from the law (tears up his draft card because "I’m a
black man, and I could never be veteran"), rock critics ("You can
hang ’em, I’ll hold the rope") or black radio ("They call
themselves black but we’ll see if they play this"), Chuck D both
raps and writes with such an unbelievable authority that if he was
in any other band, his mere presence would overwhelm the music. But
thanks to Terminator X (P.E.’s Steve Jones), the music is explosive
as well, cramming blaring sirens, screeching guitars, hard beats
and trumpet and saxophone snatches into the abrasive, chaotic mix.
"Hey Terminator, are we gonna sell out?" Chuck asks his DJ. The
furious turntable maneuvers that follow say more than a million
words ever could. Simply brilliant.
2.) Prince Sign of the Times The Village Voice’s Robert
Christgau said it best: "No formal breakthrough, and (despite) the
title (track), no social relevance move either … simply the most
gifted pop musician of his generation proving what a motherfucker
he is for two discs from start to finish." Like the best double
albums (including the only album of the decade better than this
one), this one leaps around stylistically (gospel, funk, folk,
psychedelia, and quasi-jazz), but without any loss of momentum. And
who else but Prince could make the formerly useless Sheena Easton
cool for four minutes?
1.) The Clash London Calling In which the "only band that
matters" (as they were called by their fans) pulls off the Exile On
Main Street of the ’80s. Except while Exile takes weeks to
understand, this one takes about 15 seconds. Mining their musical
inspiration from reggae, rockabilly, ska and punk, the Clash take
on Montgomery Clift, drug addiction, unemployment, the
Spanish-American war and the ghost of Stagger Lee on the group’s
greatest album. Full of endless possibilities, this record put the
greatest of the punk rock bands on the top of the world.
Inspirational proverb: "He who fucks nuns will later join the
church."
Tatum has fantasies of attending a Depeche Mode concert and
throwing a high-powered magnet on stage, thus erasing all of the
files on the band’s computers. His column appears every
Wednesday.