The discussion on the “A Few More Things Your Kids Won’t Do, Generation X” post inspired me to follow up on a project I started a few years ago. Everyone gets those Nick Hornby-inspired Facebook memes (“15 Albums That Changed Your Life”), and as much as we identify with certain collections of songs our favorite artists put out at pivotal (I am “What’s The Story (Morning Glory?)” in case you were wondering), I think an inventory of radio singles is a much better sampling. First of all, there are more of them, and radio singles are more accessible sooner than the esoterica of record stores. (Speaking of which, I’m pretty sure we stilled called them record stores well after they stopped selling vinyl records…but that’s a whole other esoteric discussion.) So, your life in radio singles. What would it look like?
Some rules:
They have to be singles that you remember the release of, either on the radio or on television.
They must evoke a person, time, place or way of being whenever you hear them.
You must list them chronologically, or as Rob from High Fidelity has it, autobiographical.
I’ll start.
Oh yes I am.
1. “An Innocent Man” by Billy Joel, 1983.
2. “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel, 1983.
3. “Gloria” by Laura Branigan, 1983.
4. “The Longest Time” by Billy Joel, 1984.
*1, 2, and 4: I listened to this album all the time in the basement with my dad in the house we lived in when I was born. We had a silver analog stereo, and I remember wondering where the songs and singers went when they faded out. We watched cartoons, practiced spelling, reading, and boxing and listened to Billy Joel. I danced and jumped to the doo-wop grooves of this album and made the record to skip. This would directly lead to the need for digital audio in the Cocca household. 3: I remember seeing this performed on one of those awesome pop shows.
5. “Take On Me” by A-ha, 1984. One of the first music videos I ever saw. It was a cartoon. And it was perfect.
I went with this instead of the "Born in the USA" cover. Sorry, ladies.
6. “Born In The USA” by Bruce Springsteen, 1984. My dad had this one too. I remember singing the chorus as loud as I could in my room.
7. “Ghostbusters” by Ray Parker, Jr., 1984. If you were a kid in the 80s with any access to a radio, you loved this song. I had a Ghostbusters mirror from a fair in my room. It fell off the wall and broke, probably because I was dancing too enthusiastically to “Ghostbusters” by Ray Parker, Jr.
Speaking of. 8.”Dancing On the Ceiling” by Lionel Richie, 1986. Dancing. On. The. Ceiling! I remember this in conjunction with being at my cousins’ house and seeing the Latter Day Saints commercial where the little boy takes a groceries to his lonely neighbor.
9. “You Can Call Me Al” by Paul Simon, 1986. Another one I remember because of the video. And the trombone.
10. “True Blue” by Madonna, 1986. Walking around my grandma’s development and singing it to show my older cousins that I knew a Madonna song.
11. “Luka” by Suzanne Vega, 1987. The 80’s could be effing scary.
12. “(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party!)” by the Beastie Boys, 1987. I was licensed to spill.
13. “Superstitious” by Europe, 1988. Because I decided I should start watching MTV and have a favorite hairband. I was 8.
14. “Kokomo” by the Beach Boys, 1988. Cocktail and Uncle Jesse were everywhere that year. Elementary school music class “bring your favorite tape to school day” was no exception. What a cool song. Hard to believe Mike everlovin’ Love wrote it without Brian.
15. “Make Me Lose Control” by Eric Carmen, 1988. My sister was 3 and LOVED this song.
Too literal? Too fresh!
16. “Parents Just Don’t Understand” by DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince, 1988. The first rap song I can really remember.
17. “Nightmare On My Street” by DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince, 1988. My cousin and I were at our grandparents’ house and called the station to request this one. We got through and got on air and listened to it on our Pop’s radio in his den. I dedicated it “to everybody.” I think it was Halloween.
18. “Straight Up” by Paula Abdul, 1989. I was in fourth grade. She was so hot. And the video was awesome.
19. “Batdance” by Prince, 1989. From the Batman soundtrack. My cousin insisted that Prince said the f-word in it. Dancers were dressed like half Jokers/half Batmen. Started watching Vh1 around this time.
20. “Cherish” by Madonna, 1989. Reminded me of The Association. Thought she was pretty. Wanted to live underwater.
21. “Right Here Waiting” by Richard Marx, 1989. Do I listen to pop music because I’m miserable, or am I miserable because I listen to pop music?
Perfection.
22. “Runnin’ Down A Dream” by Tom Petty, 1989. Cartoon video. Awesome song. Discovered it (and Tom Petty) while looking for something to watch.
23. “Free Fallin'” by Tom Petty, 1989. Two kids singing this on the escalator at the mall. She loves Jesus? And America? I am 9 and so do I.
24. “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak, 1989. This is when I started to realize there was something inexplicably beautiful about being heartsick. Could longing be better than having? Wait, what? Nevermind. Baseball cards!
25. “We Didn’t Start The Fire” by Billy Joel, 1989.
26. “Another Day In Paradise” by Phil Collins, 1989.
25. “I Wish It Would Rain Down” by Phil Collins, 1989.
27. “Leningrad” by Billy Joel, 1989.
28. “The Downeaster Alexa” by Billy Joel, 1990.
29. “Nothing Compares 2 U” by Sinead O’Connor, 1990.
I'm totally bald, guys.
*25-29: I memorized “We Didn’t Start The Fire” for a poetry recital and explicated “Another Day In Paradise” for an English project. These tracks and these albums crystallized some early ideas about social justice, history, politics, longing, work…
30. “Black Velvet” by Allanah Myles, 1990. In addition to Jesus, I must now also come to terms with Elvis. Staying up late on Friday nights watching Vh1 and the Family Channel with my mom.
31. “One More Try” by Timmy T, 1990. I wonder what kinds of things people do to screw relationships up. Driving to my grandparents’ house past the municipal golf course and hearing it on the radio.
32. “No Myth” by Michael Penn, 1990. I had trouble sleeping as a kid. I used to listen to the local adult contemporary station every night and I really loved all these 1989/1990 songs. And black jeans.
33: “I’ve Been Thinking About You” by Londonbeat, 1990. See above. Sha-pop-pop. I’d often hear “No Myth” and “I’ve Been Thinking About You” back-to-back on ninety-six-one. And “King of Wishful Thinking” and so many other classics. “Wicked Game” was like a bonus.
34. “It Must Have Been Love” by Roxette, 1990. I remember hearing this in the car for the first time.
35. “Hazard” by Richard Marx, 1991. Mystical. This is one of the great narrative videos of the early 90s. I buy Rush Street.
36. “Baby, Baby” by Amy Grant, 1991. And everything else from Heart In Motion.
37. “Everything I Do (I Do It For You)” by Bryan Adams, 1991. Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves Soundtrack. Video plays at the end of the VHS tape. This is the single greatest “couples” song ever played at any elementary school skating party. I am in 6th grade and am smitten. See #21.
38. “Losing My Religion” by R.E.M. One of these arty grown up bands they’re playing on Vh1 when I’m 11. More of this, please. I hear it walking past the Tilt-A-Whirl at Dorney Park.
He found you at Kmart. I taped you on a Kenwood.
39. “Motownphilly” by Boyz II Men, 1991. I don’t think anything needs to be said about this song. I borrowed the album from my cousin and dubbed it. They came to the Allentown Fair that year with Hammer and TLC. I was not allowed to go.
40. “It’s So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday” by Boyz II Men, 1991. See above. These guys were the real deal.
41. “End of the Road” by Boyz II Men, 1992. See above. Still waiting for theuppityupalexvanderpoolera.
42. “Just Another Day” by John Secada, 1992. Remember Adult Contemporary? Do you miss it as much as I do?
43. “Jesus Is Still Alright” by DC Talk, 1992. Samples the Doobie Brothers, Madonna, and Snap! The video on that Christian station out of Bethlehem makes me want to grow a goatee. Nathan Key turns me on to Free At Last.
44. “The One” by Elton John, 1992. And we’re back to see #21 above.
Redaction: I forgot “Into The Great Wide Open” by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, 1991. The early 90’s music video aesthetic is something I miss. Petty was dressing like a hippie pirate at this point and I first heard this song on SNL. When you’re a kid, and you’ve sort of grown up on a certain album by a certain artist, and then you start getting a little older and that artist releases something new, it’s sort of like John on Patmos. This is a great track with a great narrative video on a great album from a great artist. When I was 11, this is what I was listening to instead of Nirvana.
Part 2 forthcoming next month.
Nick Hornby image via Wikipedia. Billy Joel image via Wikipedia, fair use. Bruce Springsteen image by werejellyfish via Flickr. JJ/FP, Phil Collins, and Boyz II Men images via Wikipedia, fair use.
My newest piece for the Huffington Post is live. It’s about how the heroic narrative as proposed by Joseph Campbell maps onto President Obama’s journey up through his election. At midterm, and facing reelection in two short years, where does the hero of the 2008 campaign go from here? Do click on the picture to read.
I’ve been writing and workshopping a story about a group of people living on a block of rowhomes and the glimpses they get of each other in passing. To the right you’ll find an excerpt. Who wouldn’t want a dog like this?
Earlier this morning, I came home from a jaunt outside to find my own dog clearly wanting a walk. It’s icy and raining here. My coat and shoes were off. Then I took a look at what he’d brought me immediately after sensing this thing might not go his way. It was a typed of piece paper. The final line of the page?
My dog is smarter than your dog.
I haven’t worked on that story in a while. I couldn’t even tell you where the manuscript was if I needed to. I’ not saying (I’m just saying.) He got the walk, of course. He earned it.
One day, you’ll stop running. One day, you’ll come back to us.
A few days ago, I wrote:
“If you’re roughly my age, we may share some of these academic distinctions:
last or close-to-last class of students to attend various Cold War or pre-war era schools before their 90s and 2000s-riffic renovations. (Elementary school, high school, college)
last or close-to-last class to take a typing elective where actual typewriters were used. (9th grade, but I didn’t really learn to type until I started using AIM the next year.) Possibly the last class to even be offered a typing elective.
last class to run DOS in a computer applications class. (10th grade)
last class to run DOS-based email and instant messaging on campus servers. (college)”
He ain’t heavy.
What I didn’t mention was that before I learned to type (and before my family got our first home PC) we had a Brother word processor, a fantastic 80’s device that combined the functionality of a computer with none of the fun. Still, as a budding writer, I was mystified by the green and black interface and by the mechanical goodness of the printing process, which pounded out every word and punctuation mark with austere, efficient resolve. If you love the visceral feel of typewriter mechanics and, for whatever reason, the ability to edit typos before they actually print, brother, these things were for you.
I saw a featured post on the WordPress homepage today that took me back to the days of digital input and ribbon printing. Dr. J asks, and thankfully answers, the defining question of word processing’s transitional age: “Mr. Owl, how many spaces really DO go after the period?” One, he says. Just one.
Sir, I think I must respectfully disagree. See what I mean? Too close. Too close for comfort. My sentences need room to breathe, friend. Like this. And this. Maybe not this, though I was first taught to do three spaces. This just feels wrong. This is the good stuff.
Because I wanted to include a picture of a Brother word processor in this post, I found this excellent Craigslisting:
Brother Portable Daisy Wheel Word Processor – $35
Brother Word Processor WP- 2600 able to save document on discs, print, & see other worksheets, etc on the screen. Great for someone beginning to learn keyboard typing & doesn’t have access to computer. Prints & saves documents.
WP-2600Q
Whisper Print ultra quiet daisy wheel system
Standard 3.5″ 720KB disk drive for MS-DOS file compatibility with PC’s
Allows transfer to ASCII files
Allows conversion of spreadsheets to LOTUS 1-2-3 WK1 files
Double column printing
Icon main menu
Dual screen capability
Allows you to view two files simultaneously and exchange information between them
Easy to read 5″x9″ (15 lines by 91 character) CRT display with contrast adjustment
Special features
GrammarCheck I with “word-spell” 70,000 word dictionary and 204 programmable user words
Punctuation alert
Redundancy check
Word count
45,000 word thesaurus
Easy access pull down menus
On screen help function
Spreadsheet software
Framing
Uses Model 1030 correctable ribbon and Model 3010 correction tape
Bold and expanded print
Block copy/move/delete
Auto save
Automatic “Word-Out” and “Line-Out” correction system erases a single word or a complete line
Automatic relocation after correction
Direct and line-by-line typing to handle labels and envelopes
Full line lift-off correction memory
Disk copy allows you to copy text from one disk to another
$35 Cash
—-
I’m not too enthused about the ultra quiet daisy wheel print system, but this post does a great job of showing us all the features that made these things practical for people who didn’t want or need a personal computer back in the day. What a fantastic hybrid of nineteenth and twentieth century innovations, you are, Word Processor. Even if you have no place in the 21st century market place, you’ll always have one in my heart. Shine on, you crazy diamond!
In honor of you, and of the icy, wintry mix outside, I offer proof of how badly we needed you:
Life before Brother.The minimalist artistry and pristine presentation of life with you, old friend.
If you’re roughly my age, we may share some of these academic distinctions:
Last or close-to-last class of students to attend various Cold War or pre-war era schools before their sometimes dubious 90s and 00s renovations. (Elementary school, high school, college)
Last or close-to-last class to take a typing elective with actual typewriters. (9th grade, but I didn’t really learn to type until I started using AIM the next year.) Possibly the last class to even be offered a typing elective.
Last class to run DOS in a computer applications class. (10th grade)
Last class to run DOS-based email and instant messaging on campus servers. (college)
Presumed shared cultural experiences:
Old enough to have been into late 80s/early 90s music the first time, young enough to have looked up to the people who made it. Old enough to have been into mid-80s music the first time, young enough to have had no way of buying it yourself.
Were in elementary school, not high school, when Bad came out.
Were in junior high, not college, when Kurt Cobain died.
Were the last group of kids to make mixtapes. While the older and younger ends of Generation X differ in significant ways, this is one thing we all did right along with you, John Cusack.
Saw your first Molly Ringwald movie on VHS (or TBS), not at a theatre.
Your first John Hughes movie was more likely Uncle Buck or Home Alone than Sweet Sixteen or The Breakfast Club
Political memories:
the Soviets were scary until the end of elementary school. There was a Berlin Wall.
If you were born between, say, 1977 and 1982, a lot of this might hold true for you. Most commentators put those years within the Generation X set, and when I was a kid, I thought that was the coolest. But when I think of Generation X these days, I think of 40- year-olds, people who were in college in the early 90s (yes, I think of Lisa Bonet, don’t you?), who were teenagers in all those Brat Pack movies. I don’t think of people who are about to or have only recently turned 30. I don’t think of people our age. [Ed. note: I wrote and posted this 4 years ago. I’m almost 35 now. Time only goes faster.]
Granted, generational definitions are sort of meaningless and almost always vast: the Baby Boomers are said to have been born between the mid-40s and mid-60s. What does that even mean? Still, I’m with everyone who calls people in their 80s and 90s now The Greatest Generation. They’re a group of people who went through it all and still had energy left over in their 60s and 70s to help take care of us. They were united by the Depression, the living memory of one World War, the coming and hell of another, and in many cases, the added hardships and injustices of recent immigration.
“Come Undone” was my first Duran Duran single. You do the math.
What binds, say, the Boomers? Not being their parents? What binds Generation X? Music? Movies? Pop culture references and ironic savvy? Being the first generation to have two parents working outside of the home as a norm? Birth years, as they relate to generational labels, seem now like unruly sundry cohorts lumped together with too much ease. In our case, perhaps Generation X contains everyone as old as Eddie Vedder down to everyone young enough to have bought Ten in middle school. Said the other way, perhaps it contains us and everyone 10-13 years older than us that made the music, television, movies we still love and reference.
Even so, I’d like to suggest a parsing of our Generation. 1967-72: X.0. 72-77: X.1. 77-82: X.2 and so on. 82-85? Y.0.
I was talking with my friend Tim, who I’ve known since 1986 or so, about some of these things on Facebook a few days ago. He had some interesting suggestions for a post about things we experienced that our kids never will. I’ll follow up with more on that in the next few days. By the way, free knucklesandwiches to anyone who starts calling them Generation Z. How about Generation More Awesome Than Superman, Spider-Man, Batman, and The Hulk Combined?
Chris Cocca 