Revisiting the 80s

 By Jimmy “Explosive Diarrhea B”

Mrs. "Diarrhea B" was recently invited to a 1980s themed party. As someone who came of age in the 80s, I get annoyed by this kind of thing. Sure, the 80s were ridiculous with the big hair, shoulder pads, and music loaded to the brim with misogyny and cheese. This is the shit that people associate with the 80s, as if it was simply a lot of nothingness. It is important to note that there was a lot more. We went through every day wondering if this was the day that our senile president was going to push the button and erase humanity from the face of the planet. There was an increased push to deregulate; labor union power, which had been decreasing for decades, declined even further; the globalization of the economy reached new levels; and the change from high-paying manufacturing jobs to the service industry resulted in the further marginalization of the working class, and this trend began touching almost everyone by the end of the 80s. Oh, and let’s not forget about the death sentence known as AIDS. My friends and I drank to excess to deal with the shit of our quickly changing everyday lives. We needed rock and roll music, which the bands of the time attempted to give us. Ultimately, many of them sold their figurative souls to record power ballads, more on that below.

Nearly everyone, including people who lived through the decade of Reagan, like to make fun of 80s pseudo-metal. We call it butt-rock, butt-rawk, hair metal, glam metal, etc. All of these names are used for the same thing, and they have one common goal—to delegitimize the music of an era. I fully agree that much of it was garbage. But some of the bands that fall under this label were able to put out some good music before the major label record companies began molding the bands and their sound to make them all look and sound the same way. Below I submit a series of videos from YouTube to demonstrate my point. You may not like the music, but my hope is that you will recognize that many bands did not necessarily choose the path they took. The cheese-ball music we call hair metal is an invention of record label executives.

Ratt, "You Think You're Tough."

 

Great White, “Street Killer.”

 

220 Volt, “Firefall.”

 

Y&T, “Mean Streak.”

Mötley Crüe, “Too Fast for Love.”

 

Twisted Sister, “Under the Blade.”

 

Night Ranger, “Don’t Tell Me You Love Me.”

 

I completely understand why people make fun of things they think are ridiculous. When it comes to music, I struggle not to completely dismiss and giggle at hip hop, popular country music, rap, and recent pop. When I allow myself to have an open mind, I occasionally find something I appreciate. I urge you not to completely dismiss the 80s. The next time you tease your hair and don a denim shirt with shoulder pads on a party night, keep in mind that you are not representing the entirety of 80s culture or history.

 

The Death of Sinead O’Connor

 

By Null and SoDak

Not to be too dark, but we wondered how long Sinead O’Connor would be around following her seventeen-year-old son’s suicide in 2022. She was always quite open regarding her own health struggles. She battled deep and dark demons in front of the whole world, which was sad and tragic. This week, when the news of her death was shared, we welled up and shed some tears. 

The Lion and the Cobra (1987) was released when we were in high school. With every listen, chills would run up and down our bodies. Sinead had such a powerful and beautiful voice. She demanded attention. The full range of emotions were present on her albums. She was punk rock. Sinead had truckloads of courage in the face of lesser and more powerful entities. Famously, on Saturday Night Live, she torn up a picture of the pope in protest of the child abuse perpetuated and covered up by the Catholic Church. Her actions caused an uproar, as this issue was not being discussed in the news or by the public at the time. Shortly after this event, she attended a tribute concert to celebrate Bob Dylan. Upon being introduced, the weak-kneed reactionaries in the audience proceeded to boo her. Sinead stood there staring at the audience. Kris Kristofferson walked on stage telling her, “Don’t let the bastards get you down.” Rather than singing the planned Dylan song, Sinead had the volume turned up on the microphone, and she sang an a cappella version of Bob Marley’s “War.” She was defiant in the best possible way. Sinead was a comrade in arms. 

While we did not follow her entire career, both of us have many of her albums. These records are beautifully inspiring and absolutely heartbreaking—in particular, The Lion and the Cobra, I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got (1990), and Faith and Courage (2000). She recorded so many songs that bring tears to our eyes—“Jackie,” “Troy,” “The Last Day of Our Acquaintance,” and “Nothing Compares 2 U.” The list goes on and on. Her version of “Rebel Song” is incredibly moving. In “Black Boys on Mopeds,” she exposes the racism and hypocrisy of Margaret Thatcher and the British government. She sings:

England’s not the mythical land of Madame George and roses

It’s the home of police who kill black boys on mopeds

And I love my boy and that’s why I'm leaving

I don’t want him to be aware that there’s

Any such thing as grieving

Young mother down at Smithfield

Five a.m., looking for food for her kids

In her arms she holds three cold babies

And the first word that they learned was please. 

Sinead was a fucking warrior. She was tough as leather and tender as a flower. Sometimes the cruel world eats you up. In 1994, Sinead wrote a simple, direct song, called “Thank You for Hearing Me,” extending love and appreciation. We still need artists, human beings, like Sinead to stand in defiance against the bullies and fascists. At this point, we simply say thanks.