Top 10 Best Hit Songs of 1982

I really don’t know what else there is to say about this year. Like I said, it wasn’t exactly a bad year, but it wasn’t a challenging one. Most of the music that came out was fairly safe and didn’t really take any chances. Almost all of it sounded like everything else on the radio. In all fairness, it wasn’t a boring year. I did not feel like most of these songs left me feeling drained or tired from listening to. So it at least has that in its favor, which places it above 1986 at least in terms of badness. I’d say this year gets three stars out of five as far as ranking goes, so it’s about in the same position as 1969 and just above 2005.

On a more positive note, while most of the songs I sorted through weren’t interesting, the ones I actually did like definitely were. Surprisingly, a lot of the songs I sorted through for the best list were actually ones I was already familiar with. I guess that means that there’s a bit of a bias with putting this list together, but that’s kind of the nature of these lists. Ultimately, when it gets down to it, I’m just some guy on the Internet with his opinion, and you shouldn’t necessarily take what I say as fact. That said, I would at least recommend checking out all the songs I list on here, if for no other reason than the fact that I think people might like them.

Speaking of which, let’s cut the chitchat and get to the songs themselves, starting with the honorable mentions:

Get Down On It (Kool & the Gang) [82; 10; 9 weeks]

As I said on the worst list, this was the year where disco music was pretty much done. There were still maybe two or three songs that managed to slip through the cracks, but for the most part, this was the end of the genre for a while. That said, I actually liked some of the songs that managed to obtain some chart success this year. This one in particular is pretty nice and distinct, though ultimately a bit too repetitive for me to completely buy into. I still think it’s a nice song, I just don’t think I’d be able to continue jamming to it for hours on end.

Body Language (Queen) [--; 11; 8 weeks]

Ah, Queen. Can’t really go wrong with Queen, right? I know some people kind of prefer ‘70s Queen to ‘80s Queen, but I still feel like all the elements they had that worked in the ‘70s are still there to some degree. I mean they still have fantastic harmonies and incredibly groovy guitar work. And, of course, Freddy Mercury is a towering pillar of charisma like always. This song may sound a bit different from their usual work, but it is still unmistakably Queen performing it.

Why Do Fools Fall In Love (Diana Ross) [54; 7; 5 weeks]

At this point, I feel like it’s safe to call me a Diana Ross fan. I mean, this is, what, the third time she’s appeared on one of these lists now? I just think she has fantastic vocals, and all her songs just do everything to accentuate how good a singer she is. Hell, this was into her third decade of hit making, and she still sounds fantastic.

Eye Of the Tiger (Survivor) [2; 1; 18 weeks]

I actually didn’t consider that I would be including this song on here. Much like ‘Jack and Diane,’ this was a song I heard almost constantly at my previous job. However, unlike that song, which I felt turned out to be crap even after time had placed distance between it and me, I feel like this song has regained my favor now that I’ve had some time away from it. And it’s not hard to see why; the production is solid, the lyrics do a good job adding to the song’s atmosphere and the vocals help push it over the top, especially during the chorus. Granted, I feel like this is one of those songs everyone knows and everyone’s talked about, so I’m not sure what else I could really add. Still, I think this is a fantastic song, and if you haven’t heard it before, do yourself a favor and rectify this.

Wake Up Little Susie (Simon & Garfunkel) [--; 27; 6 weeks]

Oh, hello again, Simon and Garfunkel! Fancy seeing you guys again! Sadly, the reunion that their concert in 1981 seemed to suggest would happen didn’t end up happening. But there was still at least one good thing that came out of it: this song. Simon and Garfunkel are probably some of the few artists I’d say could actually pull off a good acoustic guitar song. And, of course, their harmonies are as fantastic as always.

And I’m Telling You I’m Not Going (Jennifer Holiday) [--; 22; 7 weeks]

I admit, I’m not sure why I actually like this song as much as I do. I mean, when Whitney Houston does songs like this I usually just find it uninteresting, and I even actually hate some of her ballads. This, however? I just think this is powerful and wonderful. It’s just this incredible declaration of one’s love, devotion and defiance. Jennifer Holiday just kills this performance, and that’s really all I can say about it.

Paperlate (Genesis) [--; 32; 5 weeks]

I feel like Phil Collins gets a bit too much flack as a performer. I really don’t think he’s that bad. His vocals are decent enough, and when he’s on his ‘A’ game, he can write some pretty great songs. I wouldn’t call this Genesis’s best song, but it was still a refreshing change from most of the music from 1982. And, apparently, that’s Earth, Wind and Fire performing the horns section on this song. And that really helps push the song over the edge for me. Speaking of Earth, Wind and Fire…

Let’s Groove (Earth, Wind & Fire) [33; 3; 8 weeks]

Remember how I said I actually liked the disco songs that managed to slip under the radar for this year? I just love the horns section on this song, and the chorus as well. I can’t understand for the life of me what people hate about this genre; it’s just fun and wonderful and funky. And I’m glad that the genre managed to resurface in more recent years.

Valley Girl (Frank Zappa ft. Moon Unit Zappa) [--; 32; 3 weeks]

Yeah, I feel like this kind of makes me a bit of a hypocrite, considering I was criticizing Bob and Doug McKenzie for playing off of stereotypes while also saying I like this song, which does pretty much that also. Still, I’d take this over ‘Take Off’ any day of the week. Not only is it a funnier song, it’s also a much better song. This actually feels like a complete song and not like a bunch of morons making asses of themselves over a microphone.

Now then, let me take it away, want to hear you play. We’re counting down…

…THE TOP 10 BEST HIT SONGS OF 1982!

            #10.

            Let’s take a moment to talk about Australian music. Yes, once again, we’re going to be looking at music from the outback. I was pretty harsh on the song ‘What About Me’ by Moving Pictures back on the worst list, and I feel like that gave the impression that I don’t like Australian music. I admit, I don’t really have a reference for how many artists or bands actually originate from there, but I can say right now that I don’t hate all music from there. And here’s my evidence to prove it:

#10. Down Under (Men At Work) [--; 8; 6 weeks]

            I admit, since I haven’t really read up about a lot of Australian artists, I can’t really say for certain what constitutes Australian music. However, I feel like it would be hard to find a song more…well, identifiably Australian than this one. This actually went on to be a #1 hit the following year, making it Men At Work’s second after their debut hit single ‘Who Can It Be Now?’ I like that song also, but I would argue that ‘Down Under’ is probably the better song between the two.

            To understand why I like this song, I’ll need to compare it to ‘Take Off,’ from my worst list. That song tried to make fun of the stereotypes associated with the performers’ home country of Canada. However, that song was obnoxious and forgot to actually be a good song on top of its attempts at social commentary. And that’s assuming you’re giving the song enough credit to assume it was trying to be social commentary. ‘Down Under,’ on the other hand, rather than mock others’ views of Men At Work’s home country of Australia, instead celebrates its culture, though not in the sense of waving a flag or being super nationalistic about it, and comments on, as front man Colin Hay put it, “the selling of Australia in many ways, the overdevelopment of the country.” The verses also make use of cultural slang, such as the line “Where the beer does flow and men chunder.” ‘Chunder’ is an Australian slang term for ‘vomit.’ Charming.

            What about the music though? Well, for the most part, it’s just standard soft rock music, but there is one element that really stands out: the flute section. That flute is what really makes this song stand out, and it is a welcome addition. In fact, a little of the cultural influence was in the flute section also, with the melody being based around the Australian children’s rhyme ‘Kookaburra.’ Unfortunately, this also kind of led to a copyright lawsuit against the band by Larrikin Music, who owned the rights to the song in 2008, the year that the similarities between the two songs were realized. Apparently up until this court case, ‘Kookaburra’ was believed to be within the public domain, both due to its standing as a traditional song and the lack of visible policing of the song’s rights by its composer and writer, Marion Sinclair, who died in 1988. Ultimately, Men At Work ended up losing the court case, though were only required to pay Larrikin Music 5% of royalties dating as far back as 2002.

            It’s rare to find a song that celebrates itself in this manner. So I guess, in a way, it’s actually kind of refreshing to hear something like this. Most songs that do so are kind of in-your-face about their national pride or are…well, ‘Take Off’ by Bob and Doug McKenzie. This is a nice middle ground: showing appreciation for one’s home country while also lamenting its present state. There were better songs than this one that came out this year, but I don’t know if I’d find any songs that match this song’s particular flavor of interesting. It’s a fine song, and I’m perfectly fine celebrating it even while acknowledging the unfortunate history associated with it.

#9.

On the worst list, I talked about how a lot of bands and artists of the ‘70s weren’t able to survive the transition into the ‘80s. This next artist, however, is one who not only survived, but thrived in the ‘80s.

#9. Pressure (Billy Joel) [--; 20; 8 weeks]

This was actually the lead single off of Billy Joel’s ‘The Nylon Curtain’ album, which he has gone on record as calling one of his favorites. He even went so far as to call it “the recording I’m most proud of and the material I’m most proud of.” Considering this was the first impression people got from the music of this album, I can definitely see why he would say that. Most people would probably argue that ‘Allentown’ is the better of the two hit singles this album spawned, but personally I kind of find it not that interesting. I’m not saying it’s a bad song, but it just doesn’t have the bombast and fanfare that ‘Pressure’ has. I realize that probably wasn’t what it was supposed to be going for, but where ‘Allentown’ was all somber and down-to-Earth, ‘Pressure’ is loud, rambunctious and explosive.

Rather than sit here and compare the two singles, however, I think it’d be best if I just focus on the one. First of all, let’s start with what hits you right at the start of the song, that synthesizer. That drives the song, and aw man, does it do a glorious job at doing so, folks. Listening to it in the background, especially right at the end of the chorus, is kind of chilling. In fact, it almost steals the show from poor Billy Joel, whose performance is just gut wrenching, going from calm and relaxed during his verses to tense and practically screaming during each iteration of the chorus. He seriously does sound like he’s under all the pressure this song is describing to the listener.

Speaking of descriptions, let’s look at the lyrics. Normally, Billy Joel is known for telling stories through his songs, with some examples being ‘Scenes From an Italian Restaurant’ and ‘Piano Man.’ ‘Pressure,’ however, is less like a story and more like a man’s psychological breakdown. Apparently, this song was created based on the stress Joel went through when writing this song. And I’m not just talking about just writer’s block, though from what I’ve read that was part of it also. This was pressure coming from everything around him, from making rent for his apartment to the simple act of feeding himself. According to what he said in an interview, the idea for the song came when his secretary came to his house while he was struggling with writer’s block and she commented that he looked like he was under a lot of pressure, and that maybe that would be a good idea for a song. Kind of cliché as far as inspiration for ideas goes, but what are you gonna do? Anyway, the lyrics themselves describe how pressure is inescapable, how people don’t generally offer any good advice for dealing with it, instead getting childish suggestions from people, like out of Sesame Street or Peter Pan, both of which the song makes references to.

Would I say that this is one of Billy Joel’s best songs? Well, no, probably not. Would I still say it’s at least one of the better songs that came out this year? Oh, most definitely. This is still a fantastic song, and I feel no pressure about including it on this list.

#8.

Now, while Billy Joel wouldn’t see that much success during this year, there is one band that saw something of a spike in success during this time. Well, okay, there were a bunch that saw greater success during this period, but the one that I’m going to focus on specifically is a band I haven’t really seen or heard people talking about all that much, despite their success. Even some of my friends that are big into ‘80s music haven’t really talked about this group, and that shocks me, because this is probably one of the great power duos of their time, much like Simon and Garfunkel, the Eurythmics and Wham! I am, of course, referring to Daryl Hall and John Oates, or as they’re more commonly known, Hall and Oates.

#8. I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do) (Daryl Hall & John Oates) [15; 1; 12 weeks]

As it happens, 1980 through 1985 was a pretty successful time period for Hall and Oates. Over the course of four studio albums, each one managed to have at least one #1 hit single, and three of these albums ended up peaking in the top 10 on the Billboard 200. Apparently, starting in 1980, the pair had decided to change their sound so that it captured the sound of New York City, where they had started living. They also started producing their own recordings since they believed their previous works had been filtered through outside producers and the studio musicians they were working with weren’t familiar with their tastes and thoughts. They also started a working relationship with Neil Kernon, who would help coproduce their ‘Voices’ and ‘Private Eyes’ albums. This single came off of the latter of the two, and it is probably their best single of the time.

Over the course of their tenure, Hall and Oates have managed a total of six #1 hit songs. This song ended up being their fourth, and probably their best. And really, there’s one simple reason for that: the production. Even just the beginning of the song is just this series of layered keyboard touches, building one on top of another. It creates a really incredible atmosphere that I don’t think I really heard many songs being able to match through this entire year, even some of the songs higher up on this list. And, of course, there’s the saxophone line, which is surprisingly powerful for a song like this. Most people are turned off by the soft rock genre, but I feel like this song would win even the naysayers over.

If there were one problem I’d have with the song, however, it would have to be the lyrics and subject matter. The song’s basically about a guy that, up until this point, has been in a no-strings-attached, sexual relationship with the person being addressed in the song. However, she wants him to actually man up and commit to a real relationship, and he’s apparently not too happy about having to do that. He claims that she has his body and now she wants his soul. Now, I can understand not being ready to commit to a full relationship if you’re feeling nervous about progressing things too fast. However, they’re already at sex, so I don’t see what possible reservations this narrator could have about this, barring the possibility that he is, in fact, a complete douche bag. I’m not saying Daryl Hall or John Oates are douche bags, just the character being portrayed in this song. Now, the lyrics to this song aren’t enough to ruin it for me completely. However, I would be lying if I said they weren’t part of the reason this song didn’t place higher on this list.

Daryl Hall and John Oates would still see some success after this song, and would even continue having hits for the rest of the ‘80s. However, by the ‘90s their hit making power would pretty much dry out. Going through their material by that point, however, it’s not too hard to see why. The two just weren’t able to keep up with the shifting trends and got left behind. Still, when these two were at their peak, they were probably one of the most significant acts of their time. And this song is a brilliant showcase of the pair’s potential as a musical act. And, you know what? I can go for that.

#7.

There are times in our lives when we see stars shining high in the sky. These stars help make the world a more beautiful place to be in. However, when these stars go out, when their light fades from the sky, it leaves a bitter, hollow emptiness that, no matter how others might try, just can’t be filled the same way again. However, there is always the comfort in knowing that others of their kind will join such stars wherever they disappear to. And for this next entry on the list, I’m going to be looking at two such stars that have left us: one from quite a while ago, and another more recently.

#7. Under Pressure (Queen & David Bowie) [--; 29; 5 weeks]

As it happens, Billy Joel wasn’t the only artist this year that was…Under Pressure.

…Yeah, I realize that was a terrible pun.

I don’t think I’m shocking anyone when I say I like both Queen and David Bowie. ‘Labyrinth’ was one of the movies I remembered fondly after watching it growing up, and Queen were one of the first bands from the ‘70s I was ever introduced to. So, it really should come as a surprise to no one that I would like a song where the two collaborated. Now, I’m sure many of you will make the argument that this song shouldn’t count for this list, since it was released in 1981. To those people, I simply have to say, “Shut up; it’s fucking Queen and David Bowie! Your argument is invalid!” Besides, while the song was released in 1981, it didn’t peak until 1982, so I’m counting it.

However, I’m sure many of you are already at least somewhat familiar with this song; it’s pretty iconic. And even if you’re not, you’re most likely familiar with Vanilla Ice’s infinitely inferior ‘Ice Ice Baby,’ which sampled (i.e. stole) this song’s bass line. And I can understand why he would choose to use this particular sample; it is a powerful base to build the song off of. Although, there’s apparently a bit of confusion regarding where it originated from, with some of the interviews indicating that John Deacon was the one that made the riff while Deacon himself claimed it was created by Bowie. In one interview for the BBC Documentary Queen: the Days of Our Lives, however, Roger Taylor stated that the bass line was created by Deacon, who had been playing it over and over during their sessions in the studio. However, after leaving and returning from dinner, Deacon forgot the riff, and Taylor changed it. But according to Brian May, Bowie was the one that changed it, not Taylor. I really wish I knew who should be taking credit for creating the riff, because it really is a fantastic foundation for the song to stand on.

Interestingly enough, this song was actually the result of a jam session between the two acts. The scat singing is a clear sign of how the song initially started out as improvisation. Speaking of the singing, let’s look at that for a moment. You probably wouldn’t think that Freddy Mercury’s falsetto voice would blend well with Bowie’s much deeper vocals, but the way they’re executed demonstrates a surprising level of balance. Neither vocal performance really dominates the song; they do a decent job sharing the stage, as it were. And that’s even apparent in their lyrical delivery, with Mercury performing the verses, Bowie singing the chorus and bridge, and the two singing the ending of the song together.

I admit, this song partially got on the list through a bit of a bias because it is probably the first song by Queen I can remember hearing. Yes, I even remember hearing this song before I ever heard ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’ While I wouldn’t say this is the best song by either Queen or David Bowie, it is still a nice demonstration of the incredible music these two acts were capable of. Godspeed Freddy Mercury and David Bowie. May the two of you continue to rock across the stars in the afterlife.

#6.

So, a friend of mine is really big into rock and metal music, with some of his favorite acts being female-fronted rock or metal bands. He has introduced me to quite a few of them, such as Lacuna Coil and Delain. However, there’s one particular group he introduced me to that I’m going to be focusing on today: the Runaways. The Runaways were one of the first all-female rock bands of their time, and saw some decent success. I mean, okay; they didn’t achieve a single Billboard top 40 hit song in their tenure, but they still made a name for themselves, and managed to become really popular in Japan. Sadly, they didn’t last for very long, partially because of disagreement between the members regarding the direction they wanted to take the band, with the group officially breaking up in April 1979.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad news. After all, at least one member of the band went on to achieve much greater success with her solo career, and that eventually led to her releasing this:

#6. I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll (Joan Jett & the Blackhearts) [3; 1; 16 weeks]

Joan Jett and the Blackhearts actually had three hits this year, all of them covers. Most unfortunately, one of these covers happened to be of the atrocious mess of a song ‘Crimson and Clover,’ which I covered on my ‘worst of ‘69’ list. On the positive side, their cover is still an improvement, in that it sounds less boring and the ending doesn’t sound like part of the soundtrack to a horror film. However, their other two covers were still better than that. Ultimately though, when it boiled down to choosing between ‘I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll’ and ‘Do You Wanna Touch Me,’ I decided that this song was the superior of the two, partially because it was just the more iconic song.

As I said, “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll’ is actually a cover, with the original version being performed by the band the Arrows. Going back and listening to the original, I can kind of understand why Joan Jett would want to cover this song; it’s punky, it’s rock, but honestly I feel like the Arrows version was still kind of lacking. It wasn’t bad by any stretch; it just wasn’t as powerful as it could have been. It is worth noting, however, that she actually originally recorded her first cover of the song in 1979 with Steve Jones and Paul Cook of the Sex Pistols. And it was originally released as a B-side to the song ‘You Don’t Own Me.’ Again, this particular cover wasn’t bad, but…I dunno, I guess I kind of felt a lack of chemistry between Joan Jett and the musicians she was performing with. The 1981 cover however…Oh man, is it glorious. It has all the energy and chemistry that were missing from the first two versions. Joan Jett really did a great job taking another act’s song and really owning it.

The way the lyrics are structured is fairly interesting also, since the chorus is written as a separate entity from the verses. Arrows member Alan Merrill, who originally wrote the song, stated that he had the chorus in mind, and that it sounded like a hit. So he decided to write it separate from the verses, giving the impression that the chorus is playing out of a jukebox, being the chorus to a hit song, while the two kids being discussed in the verses are hearing it. Specifically, he stated that he thought it would be like something out of The Twilight Zone, since he was convinced the song would be a hit, which would have made the chorus a hit within a hit. This didn’t end up happening for the Arrows, but Joan Jett’s success with the song caused that Twilight Zone concept to be realized, effectively making it a hit song about a couple of kids flirting with each other while listening to a jukebox playing a hit song.

Some of the female-fronted rock or metal acts my friend has introduced me to seem to try to toe the line between being pretty while being hard core at the same time. I feel like it can be kind of hit or miss with a lot of them, with some not pushing themselves hard enough to sound hard core or others pushing too hard and not really presenting the pretty sound they were going for. This song, however, doesn’t even try to sound pretty. And really even if Joan Jett were to try and make herself sound pretty, I wouldn’t really buy it. She sort of tried that with her cover of ‘Crimson and Clover,’ and that really didn’t work. Though, admittedly, part of that could be because she was working with a song that was awful to begin with. ‘I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll,’ however, is just a fun, rock-out-with-your-cock-out tune that I completely believe coming from her. I’m more than happy to put another dime in the jukebox if that jukebox is playing this tune.

#5.

A few years ago, I was seeing someone, and this person actually ended up introducing me to a number of bands and artists, mostly from the ‘70s and ‘80s, but also at least one that’s around today: Peter Gabriel, Steely Dan, Janelle Monae, Kenny Loggins, just to name a few. But I think it’s interesting that the main songs I remember this person introducing me to happen to be either songs about break ups or songs about relationships having ended. Kind of makes me wonder what that says about our relationship. Anyway, this next song is an example of such, and has become a song that I so thoroughly associate with the person that introduced me to it that I always imagine the song being told from my perspective to this person.

#5. I Keep Forgettin’ (Every Time You’re Near) (Michael McDonald) [81; 4; 13 weeks]

Many bands from the ‘70s made the shift towards soft rock in the ‘80s to try and match the sound that was popular at the time. This was the case with Chicago, it ended up being the case with Toto by 1986 and it also happened to another American rock band: the Doobie Brothers. A band changing direction is kind of a risky move since, while it might invite in a new audience, it also runs the risk of alienating the band from their former fan base. Such was the risk the Doobie Brothers took when they replaced their primary songwriter and lead singer Tom Johnston, who health was deteriorating from the band’s constant touring, with Steely Dan alumni Michael McDonald. With McDonald’s addition, the group moved away from their electric-guitar-based rock sound and more towards soft rock and blue-eyed soul. Honestly though, I didn’t actually mind that many of the songs the band released in the years Michael McDonald was the band’s front man. Don’t get me wrong; I do prefer their pre-1976 music, but I don’t really have anything against McDonald taking over as the lead singer. It’s kind of like complaining about Phil Collins taking over as the lead singer of Genesis when Peter Gabriel left. The two artists had different styles and they were just going with what they were most comfortable with.

Okay, the material McDonald made when he was with the Doobie Brothers is one thing, but what about the material he made as a solo artist? Well, this song is the first from his solo career, so this is the first impression I had of the guy when I first heard him. And I honestly just love this song, despite its kind of depressing subject matter. I mean, McDonald’s vocals just sound like he’s in turmoil over this relationship he’s singing about that didn’t work out. And that kind of struggle of lingering feelings for someone despite a failed romance is something I can understand. Failed relationships are painful, and sometimes, even after things ended and it’s clear it wouldn’t have worked out anyway, you still have feelings for the other person that just won’t go away. And the vocals are interspersed with some pretty smooth sounding instrumentation. It sounds laid back and relaxed at first, but when McDonald brings in his vocals, it adds a layer of emotional pain, and that continues throughout the song.

Sadly, Michael McDonald wouldn’t see much further success with his solo career after this song. He would manage another four top 40 hits after this song, two of which were duets. After around 1986, however, his chart success was pretty much over. However, I’m glad we at least got this song as a hit. This is just a great song, and I don’t think I’m going to forget it anytime soon.

#4.

I’m not sure if this is a common thing for people to assume or generalize, but I just want to make the point that not all music from Canada is bad. Yeah, acts like Justin Bieber and Nickelback bleed over to the US from up north, and yes the #2 song on the worst list for this year originated from there also, but that isn’t a proper scope of Canadian music. In fact, you know what? I’m going to make it my goal to prove to people that there is good Canadian music out there. And I guess you can consider the next song here exhibit ‘A’ in terms of my defense of Canadian music.

#4. Working For the Weekend (Loverboy) [96; 29; 8 weeks]

Loverboy are kind of an anomaly on this list since, unlike most of the other artists on here, they don’t really have the same kind of legacy behind them that most of the other acts on this list have. I mean, the members of the band were never part of any other big, significant acts at the time; they never achieved a #1 hit in America; even people from their native country of Canada don’t seem to know any of the individual members of the band by name, from what I can tell. And it’s kind of a shame that I have to put it that way, because Loverboy are actually a pretty decent band. Maybe their problem was that they sounded too similar to every other rock band that was out at the time. I mean, they used quite a bit of synth, they had a bit of a cheese factor to them and they were fairly watered down for hard rock, or even just regular rock. ‘Turn Me Loose’ was their first hit single, and it’s clear to see why; it had bombast behind it and it sold the band as this powerhouse of a group which they, sadly, didn’t really end up matching on their next two singles off of their self-titled debut album, which sold over one million records in Canada alone in the summer of 1980. And that baffles me because that first single was easily the best of the three and it didn’t even make it into the top 20.

However, with the release of their second album, ‘Get Lucky,’ the album’s lead single managed to capture the same kind of sound from their first album’s lead single. In fact, in a way, I feel like this song is actually a significant improvement on ‘Turn Me Loose.’ I mean, it’s a lot catchier for starters; that melody just sticks in the brain. For another, the song has a bit more studio polish to it and the vocals sound a lot crisper and clearer. And, of course, there’s the chorus, which demonstrates excellent harmonies and powerful vocal deliveries. This is just the kind of song I’d imagine someone being able to work out to, you know? I mean, I wouldn’t know myself; you people that actually do work out would have to confirm that for me.

What’s kind of baffling about the song, however, is where the inspiration for it came from. Apparently it originated from a walk one afternoon taken by the band’s guitarist Paul Dean, who was trying to find inspiration for his songwriting. Since most people were at work at the time, and it was a weekday, the place was deserted. So, he figured that everyone was “waiting for the weekend,” as he put it. The band’s vocalist, Mike Reno, later suggested that the phrase be changed to “working for the weekend.” Not exactly the most inspired idea for a song, but hey, they were able to make a song like this out of it, so there was obviously something to be taken from it. Admittedly, the song’s not exactly all that impressive lyrically, but it’s honestly not really trying to be. The lyrics are pretty much there because they sound good paired up with the music. And I can’t really hold that against the song or the band.

Now, I don’t want to hype up Loverboy as a band too much. They aren’t a great act, but they certainly are a good one. They’re certainly better than most of the other bands that didn’t really tickle my interest from this year. And if this doesn’t convince you that Canada is, or at least was, capable of creating good music…well, then I guess I’ll need to go looking up other Canadian acts to add additional evidence to confirm it.

#3.

…Oh hi Peter Gabriel! Fancy seeing you appearing on another one of my lists!  

#3. Shock the Monkey (Peter Gabriel) [--; 35; 5 weeks]

Having now listened through a good portion of Peter Gabriel’s music now, I think I can safely make the following observation: the man has an unhealthy obsession with his own dick. Seriously, between songs like ‘Big Time’ and ‘Sledgehammer,’ I feel like I’m being assaulted with phalluses when I listen to his music sometimes. In fact, Peter Gabriel’s dick-centric music just makes me beg the question: is he secretly a furry or something? I mean, I don’t want to make the generalization that all furries have dick on their minds, but…well, it does seem to be a common theme with some of them. Anyway, I think I’m going to drop this subject and get back to the song before I dig this hole any deeper.

I suppose it’s kind of interesting that the song I chose for this list is one where Gabriel actually decided to focus on something else. In fact, this was the first song he released that was a hit in America, even taking into account his work with Genesis. Apparently people often assume the song’s theme is about animal rights or a reference to experiments by Stanley Milgram as described in his book ‘Obedience to Authority,’ both of which Peter Gabriel has denied. Rather, the ‘monkey’ being described in the song is meant to be a metaphor for one’s feelings of jealousy, with the song itself being a love song about how jealousy can release one’s basic instincts. Kind of a bizarre metaphor to use there, but I guess odd symbolism and outside-the-box thinking should be expected from someone as theatrical and showy as Peter Gabriel.

And, of course, the music to this song is fantastic. As is generally the case with Peter Gabriel’s music, the production is spot-on for this song. It, like all of the songs on his fourth self-titled album, consists of predominantly electronic instrumentation. And folks, it is used incredibly well. In contrast to the instrumentation to other songs I’ve talked about, such as, say, ‘Hard To Say I’m Sorry,’ the music here is powerful and driving. It swells and dips at all the right points in the song. I don’t think I could think of a rock song that used its instrumentation better from this year. Well, okay, maybe one, but we’ll be getting to that later.

So yeah, this was the song that finally got Peter Gabriel a hit. It didn’t make it into the top 40; that wouldn’t happen for another four years, with the release of ‘Sledgehammer.’ Although, it wasn’t nearly as big a hit in the UK, where it didn’t even make it into the top 50. The pop charts make no sense to me. Maybe people felt like this was a sell out move; I mean, his prior material was predominantly played on real instruments, while the music here is mostly electronic, and this song, rather than singing about things like protesting against war, is a love song, a more common subject matter in pop music. However, even if this is Peter Gabriel’s big ‘sell out’ move; I don’t feel like that weakens how good the song is. Besides, Peter Gabriel’s always been something of an experimental artist, and trying out a pop sound would still be keeping true to that. There have been other rock acts that have taken cues from pop music to experiment with their sound. And on that note…

#2.

1982 and 1983 were pretty big years for the band Toto. With the release of their fourth album, the band saw what would be the peak in their commercial success. This album, titled ‘Toto IV,’ would be seeing the group earning four top 40 hits, three of which would peak in the top 10. Now, of the three top 10 hits the album would produce, there are only two of them that people seem to remember, and as you might’ve guessed, we’re going to be focusing on one of them right now.

#2. Rosanna (Toto) [14; 2; 18 weeks]

I feel like Toto would fall into a similar category of band to Queen, at least in their early years: they were at their strongest when taking advantage of their excellent harmonies. Those aren’t really as prominent on this song, so I wouldn’t really call it their best work. However, I still like the song even if the band’s greatest elements aren’t really on full display here. As it happens, Toto are yet another band that my ex introduced me to. Again though, considering this is a song about a failed relationship, I feel like that kind of says some depressing things about our relationship.

Now, as I just said, the lyrics of the song talk about a failed relationship. A common misconception about the song is that it is about Rosanna Arquette, who was dating the band’s keyboard player Steve Porcaro at the time and coincidentally had the same name. However, this is not the case, as David Paich, the band’s keyboardist, was the one that penned the song, taking inspiration from numerous girls he’d known. The song itself talks about how the narrator was in a relationship with the titular Rosanna, but she had higher standards than he could provide, and worse, he was kind of an underachiever. He laments the fact that things fell apart between them, still thinking about the walls that came between them and at least trying to offer up some positivity by stating that, now that things have ended between them, Rosanna will no longer need to compromise. However, as the song gets to the chorus, the narrator practically screams the statement, “Meet you all the way.” This could be interpreted as meaning that, rather than meeting Rosanna halfway, he has decided that he will fully commit himself to meeting her expectations from now on. Though, considering the pain clearly in the narrator’s voice, chances are he could just be saying it as a last desperate act to convince himself that things could work out between the two of them. This feels less like a love song and more like a tragic, failed romance that wouldn’t have worked out regardless.

And that leaves us with the music, and where better to start than the drums? The drum pattern for this song is called a ‘half-time shuffle,’ a style of performance in half-time that mainly crops up in jazz-influenced music. Specifically, Jeff Pocaro, the band’s drummer, referred to the shuffle used here as a combination of the ‘Bernard Purdie half-time shuffle,’ and a variation of the Bo Diddley beat John Bonham played on ‘Fool In the Rain.’ Bernard Purdie is an American groove drummer and is considered a major influence of funk music. John Bonham was the drummer of Led Zeppelin, often considered one of the greatest rock drummers. The Bo Diddley beat is kind of a syncopated five-accent clave rhythm named after Bo Diddley, a rhythm and blues musician that introduced and popularized the beat. All this comes together to form an excellent drum part on this song: somewhat complex, while still being fun to groove along to. Add to that the excellent instrumentation from the rest of the band, including a horn section that comes in during the chorus, and some impressively layered harmonies, and you have a masterful presentation of grooving ‘80s soft rock. 

If Chicago’s ‘Hard To Say I’m Sorry’ and Peter Cetera’s ‘Glory Of Love’ were ‘80s soft rock done wrong, Toto’s ‘Rosanna’ is ‘80s soft rock done right. This song is just a perfect showcase of how soft rock music can not only…well, rock, but also have plenty of groove to go along with it. And yet, despite all of this, this song was still only #2 on this list. What could possibly be better than this? Well…

#1.

For the last two best lists I’ve put together, I really struggled with picking the song that would go on to be my #1 for the list. For 1969, I nearly lost sleep choosing between Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘The Boxer’ and Crosby, Stills and Nash’s ‘Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.’ For my ‘best of 2005’ list, I was almost certain that ‘Feel Good Inc.’ would be the #1, but ultimately surprised myself with the number of other songs I liked more than it. I guess what I’m trying to say with this is that, sometimes when I put these lists together, choosing the song that I liked most out of the year can be kind of a challenge.

That was not the case for this year though. When I put this list together and saw that this next song charted this year, I knew instantly it was going on the list. It’s certainly my favorite song by the band in question, and possibly even one of my favorite hit songs of the ‘80s. But what act could such a song as this possibly have come from? Queen? The Rolling Stones? Van Halen? The Police? Journey? Well, no on all counts.

#1. Africa (Toto) [--; 14; 7 weeks]

Toto’s ‘Africa’ was my first introduction to the band, and I feel like it set some pretty high standards for me regarding the kind of music they created. It’s their only #1 song, and easily one of their best songs period. The first time I ever heard of this song was on Bennett the Sage’s ‘Top 20 Best #1 Hit Songs’ list, and I’m honestly surprised he placed it as low as he did, because I feel like this song is just fantastic in every way. I admit I’m kind of struggling to find the proper words to describe just how great this song is. However, I will at least try to sort through the information I have and hope that that will be enough.

I guess I should start by talking about the song’s background. David Paich wrote the song, stating that the idea behind the song was, “a boy is trying to write a song on Africa, but since he’s never been there, he can only tell what he’s seen on TV or remembers in the past.” So, it’s basically a song about a guy’s love of the continent of Africa rather than just a song about a love story. That’s reflected in the lyrics, especially during the chorus, with the line ‘I bless the rains down in Africa’ being especially prominent in the song, to the point that the line is repeated several times in the final chorus.

Regarding the verses, however, the first verse talks about the narrator hearing what are presumably African drums in his sleep, and how his lover is meeting him, presumably, to take him towards some form of salvation, presumably from the sense of longing he feels for the continent. Before her arrival, the narrator meets an old man seeking to hear some form of wisdom or understanding from him. The old man in question, however, merely gives him a look that seems to say he must hurry on his way for something or someone is waiting for him. This seems to indicate that the man in question has a sense of desperate longing to experience the continent of Africa, a feeling he wishes to satisfy with the wisdom he believes the old man can provide. However, the old man’s response is, in its own way, telling the boy that he’ll need to find the answers on his own.

The second verse uses various forms of vaguely African-themed imagery to describe the turmoil the narrator is going through, presumably in his quest to find the wisdom and understanding of the continent of Africa he seeks. For example, he describes himself as a wild dog, crying out in the night, restless with a longing for the company of others. He also talks about how, when he is presented with a choice at some point in his future, he’ll need to make the decision he knows is right, and he’s as certain of this as Mt. Kilimanjaro rising above the Serengeti. Admittedly, Mt. Kilimanjaro is about a hundred miles away from the Serengeti, but it is still at a higher elevation, so that statement isn’t entirely inaccurate. However, the final line of the verse states that the narrator seeks to cure something that’s deep inside of him, and that he’s afraid of what it’s turned him into. Ultimately, however, at the bridge before the final chorus, the phrase “Hurry boy, she’s waiting there for you” is uttered. This seems to indicate that the boy in question has ultimately made his decision: to stay with his lover and leave the continent of Africa behind him. This story feels kind of tragic in a way, since the boy in question ultimately decides to abandon his dreams in favor of staying with the one he loves.

But anyway, let’s move on to where the song really shines: the music. This song apparently took quite a while for the band to put together. Some of the instruments you hear on the song were actually done using a GS 1 digital stage piano. The main melody you hear of the song is played on a Yamaha CS-80, and despite some of the seemingly acoustic-sounding instruments on the song actually being digital, it’s still able to create the feel of a tribal song combined with Toto’s normal sound. The band even brought in American freelance percussionist Lenny Castro to perform the congas and Jeff and Steve Porcaro’s father Joe played marimbas. It even features an impressive synthesizer solo during the bridge of the song. However, the verses basically exist in this song to build up to the chorus, which features amazing harmonies from the group, with Bobby Kimball keeping the song anchored in place with the main melody. Seriously, the band’s decision to fire this guy was a huge mistake on their part in my opinion. Although, apparently he briefly rejoined the group from 1998 to 2008, so they at least had that.

From what I’ve heard, this song marked a significant change in the sound of pop music at the time. I mean there’s a noticeable difference between this song and ‘Rosanna.’ And while I love both songs, it’s this one that comes out on top for me. And honestly, I wouldn’t have any objections if this song were the one that represented the shift in pop music between 1982 and 1983, with the latter being considered one of the greatest years in pop music history. I really hope I get to cover 1983 at some point. Until then, I’ll take this song and eagerly await the day when I get to hear just how much of an impact it had on pop music since then. So there you have it folks: ‘Africa’ by Toto, my choice for the best hit song of 1982. 

Top 10 Worst Hit Songs of 1982

I admit; putting these lists together can be kind of hard sometimes. Keep in mind; in order to do them I need to sit through every single hit song of a given year; every single one, anything that charted in the top 40 that year. And depending on what the music from that year is like, it can either be a lot of fun or it can be a serious chore. In the event of the latter, it could be because the majority of the music from that year was uninteresting, boring or just plain bad, sometimes some combination of the three. 1986 would be an example of the second one, 2001 would be an example of the third one, and 1982, the year I’ll be covering this time around, would be an example of that first one: uninteresting.

Now, try to understand, there is a difference between uninteresting and boring. If something is boring, that means it is something I find tedious to sit through; the act of putting up with a song that is boring for anywhere from three minutes to as long as seven is draining to me. Something that’s merely uninteresting merely means it’s not engaging or doesn’t challenge me in any way. That doesn’t mean that something that’s uninteresting is automatically bad. In fact, as uninteresting as this year was, I probably liked a surprising number of songs from it. However, it does mean that the year doesn’t feel as impressive as it could. 1969 almost fell into this category just because a lot of the music from that time frame was pretty samey-sounding, but made up for it with the good music being just that good. With 1982, however, I kind of had to dig pretty deep just to find songs that got an emotional reaction from me at all, either good or bad.

And it’s a shame that I have to say that because interesting things did happen in 1982. I mean, this was the year that Madonna would see her big debut in music and the year that Michael Jackson would release his ‘Thriller’ album! Those alone should be enough to elevate this year, right? And not just that, but Iron Maiden released their ‘The Number Of the Beast’ album, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts had three top 20 hits, Peter Gabriel, Talking Heads, Elton John, John Cougar, Van Halen, Motörhead, Dolly Parton, Duran Duran, Queen, Heart, REO Speedwagon, Judas Priest, all these bands and artists would release albums, Ozzy Osborne’s lead guitarist died from a plane crashing into a house, Billy Joel suffered an injury from a motorcycle accident, Johnny Cash would host Saturday Night Live with Elton John and his band as guest musicians, Blondie disbanded, The Who started their farewell concert, all this stuff happened in 1982. And yet, the end result is a curdled mixture of soft rock, the last remaining gasps of disco music, and bizarre pop musical choices that don’t seem to make much sense once you look at them. (Here’s looking at you, Olivia Newton-John.)

So, from a year like this, what could the bad music possibly be like if the majority of the music is already this lackluster? Well, there is a surprising mixture of everything in here; stuff that’s lame, stuff that’s boring, stuff that’s stupid and stuff that just plain sucks. With how lacking in interest the year was, there wasn’t exactly a specific flavor of bad that stood out above the others, so we got a little of all of them. But rather than just sit here and offer vague descriptions of it, I think you’d rather I offer some examples. Well, here we go, starting with our dishonorable mentions:

Tonight I’m Yours (Don’t Hurt Me) (Rod Stewart) [--; 20; 8 weeks]

Oh, hello again Rod Stewart. How’s that whole ‘playing the smooth lady’s man despite having a voice like gravel’ thing going for you? What’s that? You’re offering yourself over to this woman, telling her she can do whatever she wants with you while begging her not to hurt you? Why, I’m sure that doesn’t make you seem the slightest bit pathetic! Nope! Not at all!

Genius Of Love (The Tom Tom Club) [--; 31; 4 weeks]

This song just gives me a headache to listen to. The production sounds shoddy, the vocals are annoying and the lyrics are nonsensical. I probably would’ve put it on the list if it had charted higher or for longer. Perhaps it would’ve been better for these two to just stick with the Talking Heads. At least then they made good music.

The Look Of Love (ABC) [--; 19; 10 weeks]

I’m not sure if I have any real coherent criticism of this song. It just sounds kind of dated and lame, and the lead singer sounds like he’s desperately trying to be the sadly now deceased David Bowie. I guess it’s a good thing the real Bowie would go on to release his ‘Lets Dance’ album the following year and become the pop music icon he is beloved as to this day, else we probably would’ve continued to be plagued by these losers for the rest of the decade. Well, from what I can tell, we still kind of were on and off, but I’m just glad we don’t hold them to the same regard we hold David Bowie.

Stone Cold (Rainbow) [--; 40; 1 week]

Speaking of bands trying to sounds like other artists, here we have a low-grade Journey knockoff that gives us about as much power and passion as one might feel right before a trip to the dentist. Whoo. This was their only top 40 hit, and I can only imagine how much worse the rest of their discography was if this is supposed to be the song that represents the band.

Murphy’s Law (Chéri) [--; 39; 2 weeks]

Maybe things were different back in the day and maybe the chipmunk voice effect didn’t sound nearly as annoying and dated back then as it does now. However, that still doesn’t excuse this song. This song suffers from the exact same problems as Mr. ‘Juice’s’ ‘The Rain.’ It’s a song that’s trying to present itself as this incredible put-down to the narrator’s ex, but it just comes across as pathetic and lame. I don’t know anything about this band, but I certainly hope to not see them again, because this song did not win me over.

Somewhere Down the Road (Barry Manilow) [--; 21; 7 weeks]

Okay, I don’t have anything against Barry Manilow. From what I’ve heard, he’s one of those artists that people generally don’t like, but I haven’t heard a song of his I genuinely hated. Hell, even this song doesn’t piss me off that much; I just think it’s dull. Don’t get the wrong idea though; I wouldn’t have put it on here if I didn’t think it belonged here. It’s just a pitiful, weak sauce, nothing of a song that I just don’t find all that engaging. Next!

Key Largo (Bertie Higgins) [17; 8; 17 weeks]

And here’s yet another song I don’t find all that engaging. This was apparently the theme song to a film by the same name, and all I can say is that this didn’t sell me on ever seeing the movie anytime soon. Also, I’m kind of annoyed by the way the singer keeps rushing through his bars to try and make them fit the meter. You need to either trim the verses down shorter or make the meter longer to compensate for that, you jerk!

Love Plus One (Haircut One Hundred) [--; 37; 4 weeks]

This title doesn’t make any sense. I say that because, within the song, it’s only stated in the chorus, where it is repeated over and over without any kind of indicators to explain what that line is supposed to be referring to. Also, if you’re the sort that gets your panties in a twist over songs repeating the nonsense syllables ‘la la la’ or ‘doo doo doo,’ try ‘ai yai yai yai yai!’ Who does he think he is, Alpha from “Power Rangers?” Good God is this annoying.

I Found Somebody (Glenn Frey) [--; 31; 5 weeks]

No, Glenn Frey, I won’t be singing this song when I fall in love. Being perfectly honest, I don’t think the song’s necessarily that bad; the melody is decent enough and Frey’s vocals aren’t terrible. However, make no mistake, this song could have been sung by anyone. The lyrics are as generic and cookie-cutter as you can find, the melody is still simple to the point that a middle schooler would be able to perform it, and while I don’t mind the vocals, they’re nothing special. This song is as uninteresting as uninteresting can get. There’s nothing of note brought to the table here; it is completely disposable, even more so than most pop music. 

Now then, let’s not take our own sweet time; we’re counting down…

…THE TOP 10 WORST HIT SONGS OF 1982!

#10.

I need to make a serious confession. I don’t actually think the literal music video for Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Total Eclipse Of the Heart’ is that funny. I just don’t see what people find so funny about these literal music videos; they’re just kind of dumb to me. I prefer making my own jokes about the ridiculousness of music videos, thank you very much. Also, I just honestly really like ‘Total Eclipse Of the Heart’ as a song. I think it’s powerful, I think it’s moving; I just think it’s a well-put together song. Hell, I think I like other Bonnie Tyler songs too. I think she has a really good voice, despite the raspy quality it has. Normally when I think of a voice like that, the one that comes to mind is Rod Stewart, who I have never taken a liking to at all. Rod Stewart is trying hard to come across as sexy, but can’t pull it off with that voice. Bonnie Tyler is just emotional and powerful, and her voice does a good job matching that.

But, of course, before we really had Bonnie Tyler, we had to make due with the artists we were given.

#10. Voyeur (Kim Carnes) [--; 29; 6 weeks]

Being perfectly honest, I don’t think Kim Carnes is a bad singer. I really don’t. Having heard her music, I think she did have some decent songs in her. Sure, some of her early work didn’t present her voice nearly as raspy as it is in this song, but some of those early songs were softer and gentler; it was easier for her to cover up the raspy sound in her voice on those songs, and it worked really well. And as my liking for songs like ‘Wind Of Change’ and ‘Total Eclipse Of the Heart’ demonstrates, I don’t automatically hate songs that have singers with raspy vocals on them. Raspy vocals can sometimes make a song sound more real and earnest, or in some ways more powerful.

So, if the problem isn’t the raspy vocals, what’s wrong with this song? Well, while I’m not all that bothered by the rougher quality in Ms. Carnes’s voice, there is still one itty bitty problem: her singing is horrendously off-key! Her singing on this song is so bad, it sounds like she was dragged into the studio and forced to sing this while half asleep! Hell, half the time she doesn’t even sound like she’s trying to sing! I should note that this isn’t the first song of hers to feature this problem; ‘Bette Davis Eyes,’ the big hit single of hers just the year before, also had her sounding like she was singing while stoned off her ass. I know, it’s not exactly fair to keep making this comparison, but this song just can’t hold a candle to ‘Total Eclipse Of the Heart.’ That song made Bonnie Tyler sound as if she was really pushing herself to her limit, and she sounded amazing. Meanwhile, ‘Voyeur’ doesn’t give me any indication that Kim Carnes put forth any effort whatsoever.

Like I said, I feel like Carnes did have some quality in her songs. I don’t think everything she did was trash. I just think it’s a shame that she had to put out something like this around the peak in her chart success. I mean, yes, I thought her biggest chart success was also pretty bad, but this song is so much worse in that it is entirely lacking in ambition. This song doesn’t even try to sound big or impressive like ‘Bette Davis Eyes’ did. Ultimately, I’d say, if you must listen to Kim Carnes, stick to the stuff she did before she was famous, maybe one or two songs she did after, because her peak in success was also her low point in terms of quality.

#9.

It’s not often I get to talk about groups from Australia. Most of the acts I’ve addressed were from either the US or the UK. I guess this would be kind of a milestone worth celebrating, if this song didn’t suck.

#9. What About Me (Moving Pictures) [--; 34; 6 weeks]

Now, there are songs that condescend to the listener, saying that they need to stop thinking about themselves and consider the big picture. Don’t you just get sick of songs like that? Don’t you just get tired of having a song talk down to you and say ‘You can’t always get what you want, deal with it?’ Now, I’m not saying that these kinds of song are automatically bad by nature. If they’re well written and framed well, they can actually work fairly well. Take, for example, the Carbon Leaf song, “What About Everything.” That song talks about the various struggles an everyday person might experience, while comparing it to the various other things going on in the world at the same time. And it frames it all from the first-person perspective, showing that the narrator is piecing all of this together himself, coming to realize that, as the song puts it, “I am not in need.” No one’s talking down to him, no one’s waving their finger at him for daring to think big; he figures out that, for all the concerns and wants flooding through his mind, there are other things out there to consider.

Of course, there are also songs that try to sympathize with the listener and offer that outcry against the world that their lives suck and that they aren’t satisfied with what they have. That’s not necessarily a bad premise; in fact, that general idea could be seen as a sort of framework for plenty of good songs. Songs that focus more on the present and the here and now can still be compelling to listen to, and that appears to be what this song is doing at first. Trying to tell stories about people that are struggling with their lives and wanting more than what they’re stuck with? These are not necessarily bad things to build a song around.

So, if I have all these good things to say about the premise of the song, why is it on the list? Well, because while the song starts out well enough, there are a few problems with it too. First of all, the singer’s tone is just this petulant whine that grates on my nerves whenever I hear it. It sounds like he’s trying to do a Cartman impression. I don’t want a voice like that to represent me! Secondly, there’s the bridge of the song. Now, up until that point, the song was focusing primarily on trying to connect with the audience by telling stories about how people’s lives suck and they want better for themselves. However, once it gets to the bridge, it starts to take a different turn. It starts talking about ‘little people’ and how we need to ‘take a step back’ and see them, as they all say “What about me?” And it talks about how, at the end of the day, no one’s changed or gotten any better. And you know how the narrator ends that? With these lines: “And I’m feelin’ cold and alone/I guess I’m lucky, I smile a lot/But sometimes I wish for more than I’ve got.” Yeah, your life sucks and you feel miserable, but somehow that makes you ‘lucky,’ and you should feel bad for wishing for more than you’ve got. Yeah, I know it doesn’t say that exactly, but that’s the impression I get from listening to it.

There’s just nothing else I can say about this song. It’s lame, it’s obnoxious, it’s condescending in the worst way, it offers up one thing then slaps you in the face for expecting it, and the singer sounds like a screeching child. I’m glad this band never saw any further success in the US, and that this one success was buried in the confines of pop music obscurity and irrelevance. Screw this song, and screw everyone associated with it. Next!

#8.

Now, we’re all familiar with the concept of novelty songs. They’re songs that pretty much exist to give the audience a cheap laugh and condemn their performers to one-hit wonderdom. Well, that’s what normally happens; I still don’t get why it didn’t happen to Vanilla Ice, like it should have. But anyway, the ‘80s were apparently a breeding ground for these kinds of songs. ‘Rock Me Amadeus,’ ‘Whip It,’ ‘Safety Dance,’ ‘I Ran (So Far Away),’ and, I kid you not, a song called ‘She Blinded Me With Science’. Hey, just because a song is a novelty, that doesn’t automatically make it bad. Unfortunately, in the case of some novelty songs, their badness can be attributed to the thing that makes them novelty. Such is the case with this next song, which I would regard as one of the biggest face-palm moments of music in the early ‘80s.

#8. Pac-Man Fever (Buckner & Garcia) [42; 9; 14 weeks]

Okay, so I like video games and I like music. I like music from video games. I like some songs based on video games. However, most of the time, that kind of music doesn’t appear on the pop charts, even today. And considering that we ended up getting this song as the only one to do so, I think I can see why. Songs like this one give the actual good video game inspired music a bad name. It’s for the same reason that we never got any symphonic metal or other genres of metal on the pop charts after the early 2000s; the bad stuff polluted the airwaves too much for the public to be willing to open up to the actual good music within these genres. Well, either that was the case, or studio hacks didn’t think video game music would be nearly as profitable on the pop stations as, say R&B or middle-of-the-road pop garbage like, say, Chicago.

Anyway, you likely haven’t ever heard of these guys before. So, let me be the one to introduce you to Jerry Buckner and Gary Garcia, also known as the musical duo Buckner & Garcia. They mostly wrote novelty music, even before the success of their biggest hit. To be fair, they have stated in interviews that they never wanted to be known as a novelty act that only made video game-based songs and wanted to make a more varied assortment of pop music. However, the record company was insistent and, despite the duo’s misgivings, they went along with the studio hacks’ demands and made an entire album of video game inspired songs. Although, when you start out making such songs as ‘Gotta Hear the Beat’ and ‘Merry Christmas In the NFL,’ you’re kind of dooming yourself to becoming a novelty act right at the get-go. And hoo boy, does this particular song do nothing to make them seem less novel. The arcade sound effects and the incredibly hokey instrumentation just make the whole thing sound terribly dated, and not in any of the good ways. It wouldn’t surprise me if absolutely no one remembered this song from back in the day.

The only good thing I can think of to say about this song is that, on a creative level, this is as interesting as this list is going to get. This is the high point in terms of level of interesting this list will be seeing. Prepare yourselves folks; nothing but dull schlock from this point onwards.

#7.

You know, one of the most embarrassing things for some people can be having to admit that they were wrong about something. And, hoo boy, do I need to do that right now. Back on my ‘best of ‘76’ list, I incorrectly named Fleetwood Mac as a country act. However, as a friend was quick to point out, and as I discovered from reading up on them, they were, in fact, a rock band that started out as part of the British blues movement of the late ‘60s. Yeah, how stupid does a guy have to be that he gets a band’s entire genre wrong? Apparently this stupid. So, for that incredibly thoughtless mistake, I offer my sincerest apologies.

Why do I bring this up now? Well, because the next act was actually originally part of Fleetwood Mac, not when they were starting out, but during their 1975-1987 pop rock period. And it is yet another example of how, just because an artist is associated with a good act, that doesn’t automatically mean their work on their own will be good also.

#7. Trouble (Lindsey Buckingham) [45; 9; 7 weeks]

Lindsey Buckingham was a member of Fleetwood Mac at probably their peak period of success in the United States. And I liked pretty much all the Fleetwood Mac songs that he had a hand in. So I don’t want to give the impression that I think the guy is inherently bad. Even good performers put out a bad song now and then. I just feel like this particular song is a huge disappointment given some of the material he’s had a hand in. The sad thing is that this song was the biggest and only top 10 hit song he would achieve during his solo career. It wouldn’t be his only hit, as he’d have one more with ‘Go Insane’ in 1984, which reached #23 on Billboard. And I honestly don’t understand what other people would’ve seen in it.

So, what’s the premise of the song? Well, it’s kind of hard to say; the song has very few lyrics and the ones it does have are terribly vague. The first half of the first verse suggests that it’s about a man having fun away from his woman, or that he just doesn’t want to stay up too late for the evening messing around with this person he’s with. However, the rest of the lyrics just paint the whole thing as so tame and lame that it’s kind of hard to see what ‘trouble’ the guy is in exactly. Why can’t you stay up late with this woman? Are you afraid you might actually make it to second base? Are you desperate to get home so you don’t miss a football game or something? Will this girl evaporate if you say out too late? The only thing he indicates to show that he actually probably should leave is during the chorus, which consists of two lines, one of which is repeated: “I should run on the double/I think I’m in trouble/I think I’m in trouble.” That’s all you get as far as the details.

“But,” some of you are probably thinking, “surely the lyrics can be overlooked if the music is good, right? Considering this guy had a hand in Fleetwood Mac’s white album, ‘Rumors,’ ‘Tusk,’ ‘Mirage’ and ‘Tango In the Night,’ surely he’ll bring that same level of quality to this song too, right?” Well, sadly I can’t say he does. In fact, I feel like the music may be the most disappointing part of it, just because it’s so lackluster. It’s just hokey, unimpressive guitar work married to by-the-numbers drum work and topped off with shaky, powerless background vocals. Hell, even the guitar solo in the middle of the song isn’t enough to salvage it because it’s too thin and airy to carry anything! And then there’s Lindsey Buckingham’s voice itself, which sounds terribly stiff and lifeless. The guy sounds like he’s suffocating from lack of oxygen! However, by far the most disappointing thing about this song is that it’s just not that memorable. The melodies aren’t catchy in the slightest; they don’t stick in the brain. I guarantee that pretty much the moment you stop listening to this song you will completely forget how it goes almost immediately afterwards.

Lindsey Buckingham was just better off with Fleetwood Mac than he was by himself. If his solo work is any indication, I would have to conclude that the guy just wasn’t able to stretch his talents far enough to cover all the bases he needed covering. Maybe his solo work doesn’t reflect the full range of his talents, but boy does it do nothing to indicate that he just wasn’t meant to be a solo performer. Fortunately, though he left Fleetwood Mac for a while, he has since returned to them and continues to make good music with them today. So, if I were to suggest any of Lindsey Buckingham’s material, I’d say do yourselves a favor; stick to the stuff he did with Fleetwood Mac.

#6.

As is generally the case with UK acts, they tend to be a lot bigger in the UK than they ever manage to get in the US. So, I’d like to introduce you to one Cliff Richard. The man was viewed as the UK’s equivalent to Elvis Presley, but only ever got a handful of hits in the US. Some might say that that’s because the US just isn’t as open to foreign acts, though even during the British Invasion in the ‘60s he didn’t really see a lot of success. In fact, it wasn’t even until around this time that he would manage much consistent chart success.

Although I kind of get why he didn’t really catch on in the US at first. In terms of his style, he was basically following the same formulas of other acts at the time. When he started out, he was trying to be Elvis Presley, and after that he just became another boring doo-wop performer. And then the ‘70s happened, and he went into his Christian rock phase, which…yeah, the genre did not suit the guy. So by the ‘80s, he had basically transformed into Donny Osmond. And considering he was a grown man, that’s a hell of a low point to reach. And I’m not sure how much further the guy could have sunk than this.

#6. Daddy’s Home (Cliff Richard) [--; 23; 8 weeks]

Now, I’ve given mixed signals about this in the past, but I just want to make the point that I have nothing against slower songs. I like plenty of soft rock songs, so long as they’re executed well. This, unfortunately, is not such a case. Interestingly enough, this isn’t actually originally a Cliff Richard song, but a song by the American doo-wop group Shep and the Limelites. In fairness to the Cliff Richard cover, it’s not like this was a great song to begin with. That said, there is still a world of difference between the two versions of the song.

The version done by Shep and the Limelites has a much more mature tone to it. And it should; the song is addressing the narrator’s love. It’s a song pretty much reassuring her that the narrator has returned to her, and that he’s not going anywhere. Its message is simple and direct. And the vocals match that, sounding like they’re addressing someone on the same page as the narrator. And there’s even a slight air of desperation in the singer’s tone. Unfortunately, where the song really falls on its face is in the tempo, which drags to the point that the listener would practically fall asleep sitting through it. However, the music does at least stay engaging enough that that shouldn’t happen to the average listener. There is also still emotional heft to the song and, I dare say, even a sort of charm to the original; I can’t really find it in me to hate on it.

Sadly, whatever charm was present in the original version of the song is completely absent in Cliff Richard’s cover version. Cliff sounds completely checked out on this song; he doesn’t sound like he has any emotional investment in the scenario he’s presenting at all. On top of that, the tempo is really not much better than it is on the original version of the song, and whatever engaging elements were on the original are also missing from this version. While the original only had a slight chance of the listener falling asleep, I feel like the Cliff Richard version would even put an insomniac to sleep. Earlier in this review, I said that there was a distinct difference between ‘uninteresting’ and ‘boring,’ and this falls flat on its ass into that second category. I feel like the song is sapping my enthusiasm and joy away every time I hear it, and this is supposed to be a sappy, uplifting song. Instead, it’s just so slow and saccharine it’s precious. Not ‘precious’ as in being of significant value or being important to me, but in the mocking, condescending sense, like “Well, aren’t you just precious? Yes you are, yes you are, yes you are.” 

This is just a slog of a song that I can’t imagine anyone going out of their way to listen to. It’s easily one of the most boring songs to come from this year. I can easily see why this was the last song Cliff Richard would have charting in the top 40 in the US, and by 1984 he wasn’t having any songs chart in the US at all. I guess we just came to realize the guy really wasn’t all that interesting. And it’s a good thing we did too, because he wouldn’t exactly be getting much better. In fact, you remember the song ‘From a Distance,’ from my ‘worst of 1991’ list? Yeah, Cliff Richard went on to do a cover of that song in the early ‘90s. So, I guess the song wasn’t inaccurate; ‘daddy’ certainly has gone home, home to the UK, where he needs to stay.

#5.

For some ‘70s bands, there was a bit of a struggle transitioning into the new decade. This was certainly the case with the funk and disco acts, especially with the backlash against these genres at the end of the ‘70s. Some disco songs managed to surface in the early ‘80s, but by this point, disco was pretty much done and wouldn’t surface again in the mainstream until around the 2010s. That said, I did end up liking a few of the funk songs that managed to sneak onto the charts from this year. They managed to breathe some excitement and intrigue into an otherwise mostly not very engaging year.

Sadly, I’m not going to be talking about any of those acts right now, or even about funk or disco for that matter. No, the ‘70s act I’m about to name below is actually a rock band. I just couldn’t think of any clever way to transition into this entry.

#5. Abracadabra (The Steve Miller Band) [9; 1; 19 weeks]

As I said, most of the songs on this list fall into the category of ‘uninteresting,’ and this song is a textbook example of such. There’s just so little going on in this song it’s incredible. And I’m afraid I can say much the same about the band that performed it. I know next to nothing about the Steve Miller Band, and that’s kind of surprising because they’ve had three number one hits. Three. And yet I couldn’t tell you the slightest detail about this band. They don’t have a distinct sound, they don’t have distinct vocals, they don’t have distinct lyrics; they’re just kind of a generic rock band. Yeah, I know they released songs like ‘The Joker’ and ‘Take the Money and Run’ that people know and remember, but outside of a few songs, the band really didn’t distinguish themselves from other, better acts from the time, like Fleetwood Mac. And it really doesn’t help that they ended up releasing a song as uninspired and generic as this.

What about this song makes me describe it as generic and uninspired? Well, let’s start by looking at the lyrics. These have got to be some of the blandest, most predictable lyrics I’ve heard in a song. I mean, the first four lines go like this:

I heat up, I can’t cool down

You got me spinnin’ ‘round and ‘round

‘Round and ‘round and ‘round it goes

Where it stops nobody knows

Also, do they rhyme ‘name’ with ‘flame’? Yes. Do they rhyme ‘desire’ with ‘fire,’ and then rhyme that with ‘higher’? Yes. Do they rhyme ‘sigh’ with ‘cry’? Yes. Do they rhyme ‘lace’ with ‘face’? Yes. And the chorus doesn’t help matters, containing a grand total of nine different words in it, one of which is repeated, and stuttered, to take up most of the hook.

            Speaking of the hook, let’s talk about the vocals on this song. This is a problem I’ve noticed on quite a few of the Steve Miller Band’s songs, but their vocals tend to sound too aloof and distant to really connect with the song. I guess it makes sense with the whole magic theme, but it probably would have worked a bit better if they’d actually done stuff with that theme instead of cramming it all into the chorus. Also, this is supposed to be a song about a woman that, presumably, really gets the guy going, turns him on, heats him up, that kind of thing. And yet, the vocals can’t hope to give the song that kind of sexy vibe that it would need to redeem it. They’re just flat and monotonous all throughout the song. And it’s especially bad on the chorus, which presents some of the saddest melodies I’ve heard in a song in recent memory. The band sounds half asleep when they harmonize on this song. For a song called ‘Abracadabra,’ there certainly seems to be a lot of flare and pizzazz missing here.

            Honestly, I cannot think of any reason why anyone would want to listen to this band, this song especially. Also, apparently I’m not the only one lacking in knowledge on this song, because everyone I’ve asked about the Steve Miller Band has, at best, stated that they’ve heard of the band but little else. Like I said, maybe they would recognize the group if they heard one of their big songs, but even then they wouldn’t remember it because of the band themselves. It’s pretty depressing when the most positive thing one hears about a band is that they exist. But honestly, I feel like the Steve Miller Band only barely did even that; they’re just a dull, uninteresting band that made dull, uninteresting music like this. Let’s hope that, for their next magic act, they make themselves disappear, because this is little more than a waste of time.

#4.

Okay, I realize this next song, and even a few of my previous lists will likely not help to prove this, but I honestly do not have anything against Chicago. I mean, okay, I’m as annoyed as most people likely are that they chose to sell out in the ‘80s, but they did have some good songs in them prior to that point. I’ve heard them referred to as ‘the Nickelback of the ‘80s,’ but I feel like that’s not a fair comparison. Nickelback never had a ‘good’ period, and have always been universally hated. Chicago, on the other hand, started out promising and had the potential to be a decent band until the ‘80s. Hell, even taking their material from the ‘80s into account, I haven’t had reason to hate this band. I had reason to hate Peter Cetera once he went solo; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him for ‘Glory Of Love,’ but I never had any beef with Chicago.

So, I hope you will keep that in mind when I list this next song, because it is probably the song most people will point to as being the exact moment when they gave up on this band.

#4. Hard To Say I’m Sorry (Chicago) [10; 1; 18 weeks]

I’ll likely need to apologize for this, since I’m sure there are people out there that actually like this song. And, to be fair, I don’t blame you for liking it. If nothing else, it has a very catchy melody, and catchiness is something that can redeem a song. Hell, I’ve given songs a pass for being catchy previously, even if the songs themselves might have been unimpressive otherwise. And catchiness is probably one of the most important elements of a pop song; if it’s something the audience can sing along to, and will likely be drawn back to listening to because they recognize it, then the song has served its purpose. So, I will say that much in this song’s favor; it gets one point for that.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, it’s time to talk about everything about this song that sucks. First of all, let’s start with the instrumentation. Chicago were at their best when they did a good job balancing between their instruments and horn section. This song doesn’t really do that at all, watering everything down and flattening it all into this fuzzy, soft rock slurry that doesn’t do anything to drive the song at all. In fact, the main instrument driving the track is the piano. That’s not a bad thing necessarily; a piano can do many things to move a song forward. However, this one is just so lackluster and unimpressive it’s actually kind of sad. This song is dying for better instrumentals, and yet it was saddled with this.

Next, let’s look at the vocal performance, courtesy of Peter Cetera. The man’s vocal performance is nothing really that impressive. I don’t know what vocal effect he’s using on his voice, but it makes it sound kind of inhuman; it sounds like a machine is producing those vocals. It’s not quite as bad as his performance on ‘Glory Of Love,’ but boy is it still obnoxious to listen to. And once again, we have incredibly weak harmonies here. In all fairness, the vocal harmonies are better than those on ‘Abracadabra,’ but these don’t really serve any purpose; they don’t add anything; they’re just musical fluff.

And the lyrics he chose to use don’t help matters either. “Even lovers need a holiday?” “Couldn’t stand to be kept away just for the day from your body?” “Wouldn’t want to be swept away, far away from the one that I love?” Who talks like this? These have to be some of the least romantically invested lines he could have come up with. “Oh baby, I couldn’t stand to be kept away from your body. I don’t care about the rest of you, just your body.” Its corniness even pervades the title of the song. “It’s hard for me to say I’m sorry?” Why is it hard for you to say you’re sorry, Cetera? I can’t think of any reason why you’d be struggling with an apology outside of the possibility that you’re kind of a douche bag. Either that, or you have speech issues, and unfortunately, that second one doesn’t seem to be the case, ‘cause your words are coming in loud and clear.

Again though, I really don’t want people to think that I hate Chicago, or this song, just for the sake of hating them. I think they had potential as a band; I think they could have been good. It’s just a shame that they devolved into this by the time the ‘80s rolled around. Instead of being viewed as a pretty good rock band recognized for its use of horns, it’s just remembered as another dull, unimaginative ballad-performing group that didn’t bring anything new to the table. I don’t know whom you think is going to be the lucky one, Cetera, but it most certainly isn’t me, considering I had to sit through this schlock.

#3.

And I thought people would be mad at me for including Chicago on this list…

#3. Jack & Diane (John Cougar) [7; 1; 17 weeks]

Okay, look; I realize that a lot of people like this song. I get that people will likely not be happy with me for including it on this list, especially this high. However, maybe this is just me, but I have gotten sick to death of this song. Back at this old job I worked at a few years go, I would hear this song on the radio constantly. I’m not saying that’s why I hate it, but it had a bit of an uphill battle to fight to get me to like it. There were songs I’ve heard almost constantly at work that I wasn’t bothered by, but this was not one of them. Why is that though? What do I hate so much about this song in particular?

Well, there are a couple of things about this song that bother me, so let’s start with probably the biggest problem that hits me right in the face every time I hear this song: the melodies. This is a problem for me regarding both the instrumental and vocal melodies, but they sound incomplete. The instrumental intro starts out with a few guitar chords, but then everything drops out and you just hear a single note being played. It feels like they started writing that segment but couldn’t figure out how to do so, so they just said, “Screw it, we’ll just play what we have and hope the audience is satisfied with that.” And the singing isn’t much better, when John Cougar is even trying to sing. I know he went on to perform ‘R.O.C.K. In the U.S.A.’ four years later, so I know he’s able to sing fine, but here it doesn’t even sound like he’s trying to sing half the time. He starts out a vocal melody, but then cuts it out and just goes spoken word every other line, and on this awkward rhythm that makes his speech sound unnatural. From what I can tell, John Cougar, or rather John Mellencamp as he’s known now, was kind of a Bob Dylan wannabe, and that’s really reflected in his vocals, especially on this song, where his vocals are so scratchy he sounds like he’s singing off key.

But wait, what about the lyrics? Surely those should be enough to save the song, right? Well, the problem is, I don’t really get what the message is that the song’s trying to convey. And from what I can tell, the song doesn’t really get its own message either. I mean, the song starts out with a story about two American kids named, as the title says, Jack and Diane. The two are the traditional American young person couple: Jack’s going to be a football star and Diane is going to lose her virginity to Jack in the backseat of his car. Apparently, John Mellencamp originally wanted Jack to be an African-American, but the record label said ‘No,’ because they wanted it to be marketable to a wider audience and interracial relationships were still not accepted in American society yet. They spend time together eating chili dogs and having sex. Jack wants to move to the city, but Diane says he isn’t missing much. Pretty straightforward description of a couple of American kids, and even the bridge of the song seems to connect to this story, particularly the “Hold onto sixteen as long as you can/Changes come around real soon/Make us women and men.” That seems like a very solid message, and it ties into the story he’s telling. However, the problem comes from the chorus, where the message being conveyed is, “Oh yeah life goes on/Long after the thrill of living is gone.” How does that tie into the story Mellencamp was telling? Jack and Diane hadn’t even yet reached adulthood, let alone the point in their lives where the thrill of living would be gone. So why would they need to be concerned about life continuing after they’d lost the thrill of living? They’re still experiencing the thrill of living, aren’t they? A chorus is supposed to be the thesis statement of a song, and this one just doesn’t seem to tie into the story being told at all. Also, it doesn’t help matters that Mellencamp is just a really clumsy storyteller. Like, the story he tells is like a hodge podge of random clips in the characters’ lives that feel like they were clumsily cobbled together to tell this barely functioning non-story of a song.

In an interview with Creem Magazine, John Mellencamp stated about his album ‘American Fool,’ the album that this song was featured on, “To be real honest, there’s three good songs on that record, and the rest is just sort of filler.” I don’t know which three songs he was referring to when he stated that, but if you ask me, this was not one of them. You could make the defense that this was still fairly early on in his career and he was still starting out. The thing is, this song was off of his fifth album. Most artists have found out the sound they want to make by the time they reach their fifth album. This? Well, I’ll at least say this much: the song sounds like something Bob Dylan almost wrote, and probably still should have. If you like this song, fine, continue listening to it, enjoy it. Just don’t go playing it to me because I don’t want to hear it.

#2.

Remember ‘#SELFIE’ from two years ago? If you don’t, well, I’m honestly not surprised. It was only barely a hit; it just scraped the bottom of the top 20 and didn’t even place on the year-end hot 100 for 2014. And you can clearly tell why it didn’t catch on with the general public if you listen to it. I realize what it was trying to do; it was deliberately trying to annoy the audience by tossing a bunch of club girl clichés at them over a purposefully obnoxious dance beat. The thing is, just because something is done intentionally doesn’t automatically make it good. Besides, even as far as comedic songs about those particular subject matters, there were much better ones out by that point. Hell, if people were in such desperate need of music making fun of trashy party girls and obnoxious club dance music, well, we already had Kesha, so we really didn’t need ‘#SELFIE’.

But, believe it or not, there was actually a precursor to that song that came out back in 1982. That song was written by Frank Zappa and his daughter Moon Unit Zappa, and was called ‘Valley Girl.’ That song is hilarious, and unlike ‘#SELFIE,’ was actually a pretty decent song. That’s not the song I’m about to talk about, however. No, the one I’m talking about is also distressingly similar to ‘#SELFIE,’ and is also about on the same level of badness.

#2. Take Off (Bob & Doug McKenzie) [--; 16; 9 weeks]

I realize that saying Canada doesn’t produce good music is kind of overdone at this point, and not really true. Not every bit of music that spawns from Canada is necessarily bad. Drake, for example, has produced good music. As have Avril Lavigne, the Barenaked Ladies and Corey Hart. I don’t think everything from Canada is inherently bad; Canada has produced good music. Lord in heaven, though, is this not an example of such. Honestly, I don’t think the Canadian government needed to apologize for Bryan Adams, or for Nickelback, or for Justin Bieber; they needed to apologize for this, or at least SCTV needed to apologize for it.

Anyway, let me try to explain the conceit behind this sad excuse of a song. Bob and Doug McKenzie were actually fictional characters played by Canadian actors Dave Thomas and Rick Moranis. No seriously, one of the guys behind this piece of crap is Rick fucking Moranis. Apparently, these two were originally part of a panel called ‘Great White North,’ or as it was originally known, ‘Kanadian Korner,’ a sketch conceived by SCTV when they moved to the CBC television network. The difference in time for commercials meant that each episode was two minutes longer than those in the US, so the network heads asked the show’s producers to add two minutes worth of content that was identifiably ‘Canadian content.’ And after wracking their brains, what did they come up with to take up that two minutes worth of time? A smorgasbord of insulting Canadian stereotypes crammed into two fictional, drunken meatheads. I’m not even a native to the country and I feel shame for all the Canadians out there that had to sit through this. To all my Canadian readers out there, I offer my sincerest apology for you having to sit through this, because…well, you deserve an apology from someone, you know?

And at the peak of their popularity, they produced an album called ‘The Great White North,’ and a film called ‘Strange Brew.’ I haven’t actually seen the film, but considering the content that these two came up with in the span of two minutes, I can’t imagine they would’ve been any funnier taking up the span of a feature-length film. Anyway, this song was actually their biggest, and to date only hit song. And honestly, I don’t get why this song…well, forgive the pun, but took off with the general public. It’s just a pair of unfunny doofuses making asses out of themselves while some guy in the background occasionally bursts into song. No really, that’s seriously all that this song is. They don’t even speak within a rhyme scheme or within a meter or anything; they’re just spouting nonsense and selling it as music. And the thing is, the singer isn’t really even all that good on this song. The singer’s actually Geddy Lee of the band Rush, and boy is he ever at his worst on this song. He sounds like he’s straining his vocals and struggling to stay on pitch whenever he performs the chorus.

I can’t be the only one hearing this and feeling like I’m bearing witness to the Canadian equivalent to black face, can I? God, I just feel dirty listening to this! Even Tom Green’s output is more dignified than this! At least Tom Green was accomplishing his goal when he annoyed the shit out of anyone that crossed his path! At least he came up with, you know, rhymes and stuff! Yeah, they were stupid rhymes, but at least they were rhymes! At least he could claim that his music was music! Rick Moranis, Dave Thomas, Geddy Lee, everyone else involved with this song, shame on all of you! Shame on you for painting this horrible stereotype about your own country! Shame on you for inflicting this upon both Canada and the United States! And probably the most relevantly, shame on you for making this fucking thing that we’re supposed to regard as music! And yet, despite all of this, there was still one song worse than this one. What could it possibly be? Let’s take a look.

#1.

With some one-hit wonders, there’s an impression that they deserved to have more than one hit. The artists themselves were either better than their one hit would suggest or their one hit was just that good. There are plenty of acts like this: Amy Winehouse, the Gorillaz, Gotye, Estelle…I guess you could throw Janelle Monae on there too; a feature still counts, right? However, either because of poor management, poor promotion or other reasons, these artists don’t end up seeing the same level of success they achieved with that one song again. And that’s a shame because the mainstream could have used more music and influence from artists like these.

However, other one-hit wonders are rightly dismissed as flashes in the pan that were only good for one song, or maybe not even that. These acts were likely dismissed for good reason, either because they were one-trick ponies or because they just weren’t very good. The act I’m going to be listing next falls into the latter category, and hoo boy is this one a doozy, folks. See, this isn’t just a bad song; it’s a song whose badness actively pisses me off. There are many kinds of things that can piss me off about a song: lazy pretentiousness, offensive humor, terrible messages or being a cover that shits on the original version. But this particular song pisses me off for a different reason: this next song is insultingly condescending. See for yourselves:

#1. I’ve Never Been To Me (Charlene) [38; 3; 14 weeks]

Charlene was an artist originally signed to Motown—yes, that Motown—in the early 1970s. This song was released as a single off of her self-titled debut album in 1977, but didn’t really see a lot of success back then. However, most unfortunately for the American public, it ended up seeing greater success five years later, when disc jockey Scott Shannon at Tampa radio station WRBQ-FM began playing it and receiving enough motivation to contact Motown to let them know that it had hit potential. Jay Lasker, the label’s president, located Charlene, who by this point had given up on the music industry, married and moved in with an Englishman whose name evades me, and taken a job at a sweet shop in Ilford, and invited her to resign with Motown to facilitate the rerelease of this song. And the rerelease was apparently really good to the song, since it peaked at #3 on Billboard.

And that would be a very charming, heartwarming story of a woman that managed success in the face of failure, if the song was actually any good. And it’s not, at all. I don’t even know where to start with this song. I guess I could start with the lyrics, which toe the line between being insufferable and being reassuring…before falling flat on their ass into the former. Basically, the song’s about Charlene here trying to tell the listener not to fantasize about the sweet life because it’s not fulfilling, or at least wasn’t to her. And how does she do this? Well, actually trying to be detailed about why the warning should be considered would be too hard, so why don’t we just list off all the awesome things I’ve done in my life and hope she picks it up from that. Seriously, listening through this song is like looking through someone’s Facebook page of all the awesome stuff they’ve done in their life. And you know what? That isn’t reassuring, that’s not supportive and it doesn’t make a person feel more like appreciating their own life. All it does is make them jealous of the person who got to do all that awesome stuff. “But what about the line at the end of the chorus,” some of you might be asking, “Doesn’t that seem to do a good job justifying everything else about the song?” Yeah, about that, every iteration of the chorus ends with the exact same line, “I’ve never been to me.” That statement is just stupid, and it doesn’t make any sense. So, you’ve never been to yourself? I guess what it’s supposed to mean is that, although she’s been to paradise she’s never found self-satisfaction or inner peace, but there were much better ways she could have said that.

And all of this could have been overlooked if Charlene’s vocal performance was any good to make up for it. Instead, what we get is a woman that sounds so high that she has no fucks to give about anything. I mean, listen to her voice on this song! That’s not reassuring, that’s not supportive; that’s the voice of someone that inhaled too much aerosol from spray paint cans and thinks that what they’re saying is deep. And that is not helped at all by her spoken bridge near the end of the song. In it, she claims that paradise is a lie people tell themselves to make the people and places they see seem more like how they wished they were. And she says that ‘truth’ is the baby the woman she’s supposed to be talking to is supposedly holding in her arms, and the man she argued with that morning and would likely be fucking later that night. And oh wow, I can already hear Jaden Smith weeping about how ‘deep’ this is.

This song suffers from the same problem as ‘Stand By Your Man;’ it’s trying to present itself as a wise moral lesson for the audience, but instead it just comes across as sappy and dumb. It’s the sort of thing I’d expect Twilight moms to listen to and find relatable. If paradise were a real place, I certainly hope this song wouldn’t be playing there. There you have it folks: ‘I’ve Never Been To Me’ by Charlene: my pick for the worst hit song of 1982.