Tom Tom Club - Tom Tom Club

Sire/Island Records: 1981/2009

I have to assume everyone reading this blog knows the story of Tom Tom Club by now. How the rhythm section of Talking Heads were encouraged to make a record of their own while the band was on hiatus, and instead of pulling a Peter Criss, they debuted with one of the funkiest disco reggae-dub records of the era. One that's endured to this day, with hit singles sampled in perpetuity.

Yes, everyone knows that story. Or so I thought, until just the other day. I mean, the timing of the following anecdote couldn't be more perfect, so I must share it.

I was playing Tom Tom Club's album at work, mentally making notes for whatever angle I might come up with for this review. Genius Of Love comes on, and as that extended groove at the end plays out, one of our younger staff strolls by and mentions, “Oh, hey, Mark Morrison's Return Of The Mack.”

Now, I know he's mentioning this to me as a way of showing off his music knowledge, that someone his age would be familiar with hits of the '90s or something. And I smile, because I'm about to blow his mind.

“Oh, no, this is the original version of that beat.”

“There's an original?”

“Oh yeah, it's been sampled lots. Originally came out in 1981.”

“Nineteen eighty-one!?”

“Nineteen eighty-one.”

“...geez, nineteen eighty-one...”

That, my friends, just goes to show how timeless this record is. Sure, you could quip some of the rapping in Wordy Rappinghood comes off corny, or Booming And Zooming is too weird to be any good, and lord knows this deluxe re-issue didn't need all those pointless remixes added. Damn though, Genius Of Love's irresistible beat. The peppy L'Elephant. The dreamy Lorelei (always loved that name). The charming cover of Under The Boardwalk. Plus an entire bonus disc holding the rarer follow-up Close To The Bone? How can anyone not vibe on this release?

Okay, maybe that last one isn't as great. I mean, it's nice to have it included at all, this 2009 release the first time appearing on CD, and Pleasure Of Love is a worthy single. Unfortunately, I can hear why Tina and Chris weren't as pleased with the album. After the serendipitous recording sessions of their debut (not to mention the fun Bahamas trip included with it), they hoped to repeat the experience in their follow-up. Unfortunately, things failed to click a second time (political revolutions outside the studio didn't help), the resulting album sounding stiffer and forced compared to its predecessor. Measure Up at least recaptures some of the original's magic, and The Man With The 4-Way Hip comes close, if not for the incessantly repetitive lyrics.

Whatever, it's the self-titled debut that remains the star attraction. If you still haven't heard it (*cough* younger generation *cough*), get on it and hear the roots of many a hit rap and R'n'B single.

Billy Idol - Rebel Yell

Chrysalis/Capitol Records: 1983/1999

The only Billy Idol album you're supposed to have ... is probably a greatest hits package, if we're being honest. If you must get one of his standard LPs though, Rebel Yell is probably the one. Sure, you're missing out on such timeless jams like White Wedding, Mony Mony and Dancing With Myself, but look at what you get here. Rebel Yell! Eyes Without A Face! Flesh For Fantasy! Uh, Catch My Fall and Blue Highway too, I guess.

Yeah, I'm not gonna' front. Vitol Idol remains my definitive collection of Billy Idol tunes; however, it lacks one of his all-time ass-kickin' songs, Rebel Yell. Essentially a remix album, the tracks on there were intended for dance club efficiency, and Rebel Yell was too much of an out-and-out rocker to fit that bill. Plus, Eyes Without A Face is a ballad, thus ineligible for Vitol Idol consideration. No, if I wanted those songs, I'd have to get the album from which they first appeared. Or a greatest hits package, but where's the fun in that? Like, this was Billy Idol's most successful album, so maybe there's a few overlooked gems that were overshadowed by the huge singles, and thus lost when folks started going straight to the hits collections instead. Alright, I'm super pumped in hearing some Album-Orientated Idol now. Let's do this, with a Rebel Yell!

And there's that iconic titular opener, and no matter how many times I've heard it on TV or rock radio, it never fails in getting me hype. Especially those little synth fills, ooh such shivers down the spine for a techno-boy such as I. Daytime Drama is our first instance of AOI, and it's a fun slice of new wave boogie for the inner-city clubs, including a jaunty little synth solo. Sounds good thus far.

Eyes Without A Face follows, and confessional time: for years, whenever I heard this on radios, I wasn't sure it was actually a Billy Idol tune. Yeah, the mid-song bridge, with Idol going full sneer and Steve Stevens' distinct shredding, should have been all the convincing I needed. Still, do you hear those ultra-tinny, heavy-reverb Fairlight drum machines in the beginning? The softer croon? The backing female in the chorus? Might this actually be a Human League song? Ah, the uncertain years of a pre-Discogs era.

As mentioned, Flesh For Fantasy and Catch My Fall are also here, but I'm so used to their extended Vitol Idol versions, they feel kinda' slight on Rebel Yell. And as for the rest? Blue Highway and Crank Call have fun solos. Stand In The Shadows is a fine uptempo rocker. The Dead Next Door serves as a decent album-closing ballad. Not much else leaps out from these filler tunes though, much less being overlooked gems in Billy Idol's wider discography. I'm not surprised though, Idol truly one of those classic artists who lived off his biggest hits. Was still time well spent confirming it though - nothing ventured, nothing learned.

Yes - 90125

Atlantic/Rhino Records: 1983/2004

When I was young, I didn't know much, but I knew my Dad liked Yes. I also knew he played rock music in a rock band, and that Yes also played rock music in a rock band. Yet, in all the practice jams and rehearsals and sound checks, I never heard my Dad play Yes. With the logic befitting of a youngling who didn't know much, I suggested he should play some Yes in his rock band, to which my Dad gave a somewhat bemused smile, replying, “I couldn't play to their level.” This statement took me aback. To my young ears, songs like Owner Of A Lonely Heart, Hold On, and Changes didn't seem that much different than his covers of Loverboy and Steve Miller Band, and surely that's all the band Yes ever did.

Of course, I eventually learned just how expansive the whole Yes discography is, and why my old man felt songs like Heart Of Sunrise, Close To The Edge, or Gates Of Delirium weren't exactly bar-rock suitable (surely he's jammed to Wurm on occasion tho'!). Still, you can't blame a kid for thinking otherwise, Yes' hard pivot into arena-friendly rock anthems fitting them right in with the radio and MTV hits of the '80s, a far cry from their progressive '70s output. And it was all the work of one man, their new guitarist Trevor Rabin.

Truth is, 90125 wasn't supposed to be a Yes album, at least not in name, the band having gone their separate ways following Drama. Founder Chris Squire and drummer Alan White stuck together though, still enjoying their rhythmic mojo, but they needed someone as lead and guitarist, and happened upon Trevor's demos. Liking the cut of his musical jib, the two parties hooked up and even started recording some tunes as Cinema. A happenstance meeting with former Yes keyboardist Tony Kaye brought him into the fold, and feeling Trevor couldn't handle all the vocals while doing his thing on the ol' six stringer, Chris reached out to Jon Anderson for his thoughts. Jon liked what he heard, and after a marketing rep suggested they ditch the Cinema moniker, you've got a whole new Yes for a whole new decade (Trevor Horn helped produce).

Make no mistake though, Trevor Rabin's ear for rock anthems remains the dominate force in this album. Yeah, you can hear whenever contributions from Squire (those basslines!) and Anderson come in (oh man, does Jon's abstract lyrics ever clash with Trevor's simple prose – sounds great tho'!), but for radio-ready rock, there's still some exceptional songcraft going on in these tunes: key changes, time signature variants, wacky solos, and all that good stuff prog rockers are known for. It's just not key features anymore, little asides where these musicians get to show off for fun before returning to an impossibly catchy earworm for a powerful chorus. 90125 may be Yes' most 'obvious' album, but I'd take this over most hair metal of the decade any day.

U2 - War

Island Records: 1983

War, hah! What's it good for? Giving a budding Irish band the proper break-out they needed, is what. They'd already made oscillations in new wave circles with their debut Boy and follow-up October, but it was their third album that we hear the germination of what most consider the definitive U2 stylee. Arena rock anthems, political issues... um, wait, something's missing here. Oh yeah, that Eno touch. Right, the true definitive, universally adored sound of U2 didn't manifest itself until subsequent albums, but there's a contingent of O.G. U2 fan-Zs that claim Brian and Daniel Lanois ruined what had been a promising raw alternative rock band. That, if you want to experience Bono, The Edge, Adam, and Mullen (the cute one!) at their honest, roughest best... you should probably go with Boy.

But hey, War was still a Steve Lillywhite produced album, so not quite as arty as Eno would go; besides, they'd already tried that with October. War instead finds the band returning to a purer rock approach – it was only appropriate for such a heavy, politically-driven topic, getting their music into the knit and grit of conflict and the aftermath's ugliness. Plus, just in case you figured they might be going for something more abstract or glorified in selling the notion of war, they used a similarly posed photo of Peter Rowen on the cover, except now replacing the innocent boy of Boy with a stern, aged glower, suggesting the human cost of senseless struggle.

The band doesn't pull its punches either, opening the album with the strident, military march of Sunday Bloody Sunday, a song about the Bogside Massacre, where over a dozen civilian Irish protesters were killed by British soldiers, many more injured. Add in a wailing violin and Bono's harrowing cries of “I can't close my eyes; And make it go away”, and you've a song that definitely sticks in your memory.

It's the lead single though, New Year's Day, that really gave U2 their distinct panache for arena rock. That instantly memorable piano line, the propulsive bass, the jangly guitar work, and Bono's wailing – you can't think of U2 without thinking of this song, even if you don't realize it's from the War album. I sure didn't, the echo, reverb, and polished production having me think it latter-'80s U2 for the longest time.

A criticism often levied upon War is that the remaining eight songs don't reach the same highs as Sunday Bloody Sunday and New Year's Day, especially dragging in the back-half. Can't deny that, though they're by no means weak songs either. Two Hearts Beat As One and Like A Song... are strong rockers, Drowning Man features more soul-tugging violin work, The Refugee sounds like something The Police might have wrote, and Surrender climbs close to the same lofty peaks of New Year's Day. It all makes for a strong rock album, but if you come to U2 for their artistic dalliances, perhaps a little one-note overall.

Eurythmics - Touch

RCA: 1983/2005

Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) took Eurythmics from the brink of commercial failure to the heights of chart success, literally overnight. Though a little flustered by their sudden fortune, Annie Lennox and David Stewart didn’t rest on their laurels, almost immediately hitting the studio again for the quick follow-up Touch. It’s all that new gear Stewart purchased that spurred them on, cutting-edge toys that offered more creative freedom than ever before. Oh, the wonders of the 24-track machine! That voyetra gizmo wasn’t too shabby either. You bet your bottomed-out dollar the duo felt those creative juices flowing with so many options now available to them.

The resulting album was far more diverse than its predecessor, bolder in its genre explorations while offering hit singles on par with their breakout. Sweet Dreams will forever be considered the definitive Eurythmics song, but the two big cuts off Touch earned them just as much radio play as that one. Who’s That Girl? became a synth-pop anthem for every woman scorned by a promiscuous lover, and earned itself some attention for its gender-bending art. Yep, that’s Lennox on the single’s cover, decked out in fashionable collared shirt and tie, sporting an Elvis wig and a five-o’clock shadow, even kissing her lounge-singer persona at the end of the video. I never realized that until recently, so crafty the costume is! More conventional is the video for Here Comes The Rain Again (truly a West Coast anthem), where Lennox and Stewart wander the cliffs around The Old Man Of Hoy (seaside erosion porn!). The tune, however, shows off that new-fangled 24-track machine by bringing in orchestral support to Eurythmics’ icy-cool, melancholic synth pop. And yes, that’s the London Philharmonic providing the strings, with Michael Kamen conducting no less. Apparently the studio didn’t have enough room to house the orchestra properly, some members playing in hallways. Methinks Stewart’s gonna’ want himself a bigger studio after.

While Sweet Dreams: The Album was mostly forced to stick with a stripped-down, synth heavy style, the increased options for Touch gave Eurythmics more opportunity to try out other genres. This includes Caribbean influenced jams like third single Right By Your Side, dubbier new wave (Regrets; No Fear, No Hate, No Pain (No Broken Hearts)), peppier rock-leaning numbers (Cool Blue, The First Cut) and experimental indulgences like floaty Aqua and Paint A Rumor. This track, also final track on the album, goes well over seven minutes, and runs the gamut of synth pop, funk, electro, Arabian, and all manner of manipulation on Lennox’s voice.

As out there as Paint A Rumor is in the Eurythmics discography, it’s nothing compared to the oddities of the b-sides included with the reissue. You Take Some Lentils And You Take Some Rice is all sorts of avante-garde European synth pop, Plus Something Else is a funky instrumental, and ABC (Freeform) sounds like an early Kraftwerk outtake. Other bonuses include a cover of Bowie’s Fame, and… an acoustic version of Who’s That Girl?. Aaugh, real instruments!

The Police - Synchronicity

A&M Records: 1983/2003

“Hey, The Police, you’ve just release your most popular album ever! You’ve redefined the new wave rock movement yet again, and are adored by millions of people across several continents! What are you gonna’ do next?”

“We’re breaking up, because we can’t stand recording with each other anymore.”

Aww, yeah, they went out Beatles style, and in a funny way, Synchronicity is a little similar to Abbey Road too. Side one of both albums has something of a slapdash approach with individual offerings from the band members, whereas the second half plays like a mini-album concept from one member. Er, that’s all I got on the comparison.

But yes, Synchronicity is where The Police became house-hold names and radio staples on every pop station. Everyone knows the ode to obsessive, stalker-ish love, Every Breath You Take. Even if you somehow missed it back when, you definitely heard it after Puff Daddy nicked Andy Summers' plucky guitar hook for the Biggie tribute I'll Be Missing You. Meanwhile, the spiteful Wrapped Around Your Finger (that tempo change!) and moody King Of Pain (it’s like a continuation of Ghost In The Machine!) were not quite as ubiquitous as Every Breath You Take, but are no less recognizable the moment they come within earshot. And though the title track (and fourth single) is way '80s new wave with all the synthesizers and guitar effects at play, it remains a permanent fixture on many retro rock playlists. Not bad for a band that had to scrap its way through the British rock scene a mere seven years prior, and could only manage one instantly identifiable hit per album (Roxanne, Message In A Bottle, Don’t Stand So Close To Me, Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic).

So the singles were huge, getting everyone to rush out and grab what was sure to be a great album. I can only imagine their shock, then, upon hearing that infamous side one of Synchronicity. The titular opener is peppy enough, though not as memorable as Synchronicity II on side two. Walking In Your Footsteps has some neat electronic drum programming, a tribal rhythm that’s clearly inspired by what Peter Gabriel was up to. Next is O My God, a requisite Police new wave jam that’d often serve as filler in other albums, and a weird choice for a third track. And then Mother hits, the wacked-out Andy Summers contribution that sounds like… Arabic prog-rock paranoia? I haven’t a clue, and no one else has either. At least his other song, bluesy Murder By Numbers, has a clever message within its macabre lyrics. Oh, and Stewart Copeland, in an attempt to get back to their punk roots, provides the short, incidental Miss Gradenko. When you compare these tracks to the astounding songs Sting was writing though, it’s no wonder ol’ Gordon felt the need to go solo. Oh, if only folks could have known what was to come from that career. Wait, they did, it’s called Tea In The Sahara.

Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)

RCA: 1983/2005

While Eurythmics had an album out prior to this one, Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) may as well be the duo's debut regardless. In The Garden didn't generate much interest, most folks unsure whether these two transplants from The Tourists were worth keeping tabs on. Even when Lennox and Stewart changed course to the synth-heavy sound we commonly associate with early Eurythmics, the turnaround discourse wasn't immediate. The first couple singles, This Is the House and The Walk, passed by with barely any notice, and third EP Love Is A Stranger made the barest of impressions on the scene. You have to wonder if, at that point, the Eurythmics story was on the brink. Might have Lennox and Stewart called it quits if the next single for their sophomore album failed as well; perhaps receding into avante-garde endeavours, or maybe reforming The Tourists for another kick at the new wave can. Heck, they might have even split themselves, frustrated that their creative synergy kept falling on deaf ears! Fortunately for them, that single was Sweet Dreams, and it changed everything for Eurythmics.

There’s nothing I can add to the choir praising this track that you haven’t read or discovered for yourself. Do you know much about the accompanying album though? Maybe you do, if you were there at the beginning, rushing the shops to hear more of this strange detached new wave synth-pop as performed by a group taking Bowie’s androgynous style to new levels. However, I wager most only know it as ‘that album with the two great songs on it’, and skip it for a greatest hits package instead. It’s not like This Is The House and The Walk got folks talking – maybe too much brass in The Walk.

The rest of Sweet Dreams: The Album mostly find Lennox and Stewart doing the post-wave new synth-fusion soul pop thing they’re most commonly known for, though in a much stripped manner. As they had yet to blow up big, Stewart’s studio was still rather basic, making use of a mere eight-track console while recording. A lesser group would likely have crumbled under such limitations, but with clever song writing and Lennox’s powerful pipes bringing tons of soul to such a synthesized sound, the result was one of the more unique albums of the early ‘80s. They even got a little experimental, what with ethereal Jennifer and dubby This City Never Sleeps.

As with all re-issues, we get a few B-sides from that era, some of which are shocking. Take Monkey, Monkey from the Love Is A Stranger single: is that proto-techno I hear? It’s funky, instrumental, super electronic, and how has no one ever talked about it being from 1982? Or how about the proto-EBM Baby’s Gone Blue from the Sweet Dreams single? There’s also a Moroder remix of Sweet Dreams (!), and an early Coldcut remix of Love Is A Stranger (!!). Damn, forget the big hits, these are worth picking up this CD alone.