Huey Lewis, “I Want a New Drug” (1983)

By Null and SoDak

Music videos are bewildering and often a clusterfuck. While they started out as low budget items, as the 1980s progressed, thousands of dollars were spent to produce videos. Many of these videos celebrated the callousness, disillusions, and gluttony that generally went along with the Reagan presidency. The first video to air on MTV was The Buggles’s “Video Killed the Radio Star.” Videos became a tool to generate hit songs. Countless hours were wasted by youth, hoping to catch a video by a favorite band. Instead, ballads by REO Speedwagon and Foreigner—just to name two—were forced down the publics’ gullet. For some, videos were thrilling, as it was exciting to see rock stars in a new medium. For others, seeing a video, especially if it was the first exposure to a song, created negative associations, given the stupidity on the screen, usually consisting of barely clad women, expensive cars, ridiculous fashion trends, and endless parties. From time to time, the folks at Tickle Your Taint will share reflections and what-the-fuck questions regarding specific videos.

SoDak: I first heard this song on the radio, and have always had a soft spot for this song. Fortunately, Huey is also soft as he gets out of the bed. Morning wood in those white boxers would be a terrible start to the video. Strangely, the first two guitar notes sound like someone springing a boner.

Null: You’re right; it is a very “springy” guitar into. Huey has a nice place. A modest apartment with a map of the world tacked to the wall, but, considering this was his mega-hit album, he still didn’t get a bed frame yet. It seems like a lot of work to fill the sink with water and ice cubes just to sing a few lines.

SoDak: Oh yes, he goes in for the rock star, polar bear plunge to wake up. The first one wakes him up, so he can sing during the second round.

Null: He didn’t seem that groggy when he got up. Was the polar dunk merited?

SoDak: The guitar and keyboard players look very bored to death. They are probably wondering how many times they will have to play this song in their lives.

Null: If only they would have known.

SoDak: Yikes, the red suit—I think he is auditioning for Miami Vice, oh wait, it’s 80s rock n’ roll. That explains just about everything.

Null: He stole it from Loverboy or Sammy Hagar. Every time I see him run out with the red suit on, I think of Loverboy’s “Working for the Weekend” video. However, he is wearing black and red, the colors of International Socialism. I’m sure this is the message he was trying to send.

SoDak: I fuckin’ wish.

Null: Look, it’s her. A dream on a bike. My 7^th grade heart just skipped. Isn’t she the same woman that is in their “Heart and Soul” video? I loved her. He has a cool car; he is a San Francisco rocker, if I am correct in my skyline identification skills.

SoDak: It is hilarious that Huey is such a rebel, as the suits look so disgusted, as he jumps on the ferryboat. I suppose this serves as a foreshadow to “Hip to be Square.” Instead of Bob Dylan standing there, holding que cards with lyrics, the lyrics are headlines in the paper.

Null: Strangely, his bandmate is reading the paper and another bandmate gives him Alka-Seltzer. They pretend they don’t know him. Oddly enough, we don’t see them rushing to the gig. They are already on stage playing when he finally gets there.

SoDak: The woman is everywhere. Coincidence, I think not—bicycle, boat, audience. The problem is that Huey seems more like a stalker.

Null: The premise of this video is much more problematic than that, SoDak. The subtext of this video has something to do with quantum physics. Both Huey and the mystery woman are headed to the same destination—the gig. Yet, Huey is rushing to get there in time, while the mystery woman is leisurely traveling to the same destination—and yet, she arrives first, as she is at the front of the audience when Huey runs on stage. At the beginning of the video they start off at the same locale—he jumps in his yellow car, while she rides by on a ten-speed bike. How is this possible? I would expect some New Age Quantum Mechanic “types” to suggest that time is relative to how we perceive our journeys.

SoDak: I think they are stealing the entrance from the Blues Brothers, as he arrives late taking the stage, during a guitar solo.

Null: That moment when you realize your dad’s golf buddy is your drummer…and check out the kid next to the mystery women when Huey gets on his knees and sings to her. The young man wants some Huey.

SoDak: The creepy moment is when he dances and sings in front of her. I think his dick is noticeably flapping inside of his pants—slightly screen left. Oh yeah! He is hoping that she noticed it.

Null: It’s all quantum physics.

John Wetton (1949-2017)

On January 31, 2017, progressive rock musician John Wetton died. He played in King Crimson, UK, Uriah Heep, Wishbone Ash, Asia, and Icon. In Asia, Wetton was the lead singer and bass player. Asia’s self-titled debut in 1982 was the biggest-selling record that year. What follows are a few reflections from taint ticklers.

Jimmy “Explosive Diarrhea” B:

In the late 1990s, I was attending graduate school in a small Midwestern college town. One day, in between classes, I dropped by the one and only music store in town to browse the shops small stock of used CDs. I started chatting with the store owner, and somehow we started talking about Rush, which moved us onto the topic of progressive rock. I was fairly new to prog music at that time. I got into prog backwards. I didn’t start with Yes, Genesis, and King Crimson like other people. No. My first baby steps into progressive rock were with the obscure bands Camel and Marillion. The shopkeeper/owner, after listening to me ramble on about Camel, pulled out a record from behind the counter by an even more obscure band called UK. For some reason, I didn’t buy the record that day, but I remembered the band’s name and found a vinyl copy a few weeks later. I didn’t know it at the time, but with the purchase of UK’s self -titled album I was reuniting with John Wetton. Many years had passed since I had bought one of his albums (I had and still have a 45 rpm single of Asia’s “Heat of the Moment.” I also owned the full-length album on cassette at some point).

I think the obscurity of UK is an apt metaphor for Wetton himself. Few people, even fans of progressive rock, know who he is. But millions of people know the songs he recorded with Uriah Heep and Asia. I include myself in this mass of cluelessness. I didn’t realize until after his death he had played on Return to Fantasy, one of the best albums Uriah Heep recorded.

John may have been relatively unknown, but he influenced multiple generations of progressive musicians. And, he certainly had an influence on my musical journey. UK was more progressive than what I had listened to previously. Camel and Marillion were somewhat mild in terms of musical complexity. And Yes and Genesis (from the Duke album onwards) were firmly aimed at top forty success. UK didn’t seem to give a shit about fame. They were a super group of super musicians who wanted to make an awesome record, and they did. They kept the lights on by playing with their main touring groups. But, the first UK album will always be special to me. It acted as a gateway album that brought me to many other progressive rock discoveries and helped me to develop a love of jazz.

Null:

I really don’t know much about John Wetton, other than the fact that he was in a lot of bands and he was a prog-rock guy. He played bass and sang. I know he was in King Crimson, but my knowledge of their music is weak, at best. Having said that, another of his bands, Asia, left a long-lasting impression on me with their hit song “Heat of The Moment.” I always thought it was a great song and crank it up whenever I hear it. It reminds me of a particular time and place, namely middle-school in Arizona in the early 1980s. It is a safe bet that this is the most popular song he was associated with. I bought Asia’s first album several years ago as a novel curiosity to see what the album that produced “Heat of the Moment” was like as a whole. I was baffled upon the first listen and I continue to be. It has some of the cheesiest 80s synth on it, some of the most perplexing soundscapes, and some interesting drum parts. It is from another planet. I always kind of admired the album and disliked it at the same time. I have kept it around all these years and still listen to it every couple of years with the same perplexing impression. I guess this is what fascinates me about the record. I’m not quite sure about it and I don’t think I ever will be. I guess in some weird way I treasure it for this reason alone. The guys were obviously talented and “Heat of the Moment” hasn’t lost any of its shine. In the future, I may buy another Asia album. I don’t really want to, but I probably will just because I know it will be challenging. I am sure others would have much more to say about John Wetton; however, this is the little bit of gum he threw on the sidewalk that has stuck to my shoe since I was a kid. I think I’ll just leave it there.

SoDak:

In 1982, I was one of the million plus people who bought the record Asia. I believe that I received it in the mail as part of the Columbia Record Club. I ordered it because I loved the first single “Heat of the Moment.” This rock-pop song is catchy as hell from the opening notes and vocals to the chorus. The rise and fall of the song was captivating, the keyboards were nicely incorporated on this track, and the sense of yearning was intriguing. When the record was delivered, I immediately ran off to my room to listen to it. As “Heat the Moment” started I smiled. There is an interesting sense of comfort I get when I hear this song. I also liked “Only Time Will Tell.” But as the record went on, I became less interested and confused. I am not sure why. It could be that I did not have an ear for prog-rock elements at the time. But even today, I think the opening two tracks are by far the most enjoyable songs on the record.

Barry McGuire, “Eve of Destruction”

From time to time, the taint ticklers will share reflections regarding specific songs.

P. F. Sloan wrote the song “Eve of Destruction” in 1964. (The Bryds were offered the song and turned it down.) The following year, Barry McGuire recorded a demo version, on which Sloan played the guitar. This rough cut was given to a DJ who happened to play it on the radio. The song became a hit. While the song has been recorded by numerous artists over the years, it is McGuire’s version that is seen as the classic.

Class Warrior:

SoDak shared this song with me (with us, I should say—I am merely one of who knows how many people in his music-sharing circle) over a decade ago. It must have been 2003 or 2004—a fitting time to hear this song, in other words. Many of us were present at the largest protest the world has ever seen—a globe-spanning movement against the impending war in Iraq. I don’t need to tell anyone that this war ended up as a complete disaster for the people of Iraq, and a total corporate gift for “defense” companies in the United States.

Somehow, the stakes now seem even higher than they did in 2003. If you had told me back then that it was possible to have a worse regime than that of George W., I may have believed you, but would have been horribly disappointed. The fucking human Cheeto we have now is hellbent on dragging humanity into some capitalist-fascist dystopia. Well, at least he can’t take away our love for each other, or make beer stop tasting good. I still think we will win, and that people like Trump will spend their final days rotting in a jail cell.

We need more troubadours like McGuire to help us out in these desperate times. Will they respond? Will we?

If not, it’s a good thing I love the post-apocalyptic genre. There’s a fair chance I’ll get as much of it as I can stomach.

Dave:

Why do we always go back to the ‘60s/’70s in music when we want a song that has deeper meaning? Why aren’t we picking up on new musicians that write protest songs? It seems like a major component of the Trump election centered around people yearning for a past that didn’t really exist. So why listen to dated folk music? I thought it was embarrassing that Bob Dylan was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. This is the worse of the cult of the ‘70s. Fucking stop, it ended a long time ago. There are new artists with new ideas. If you care about music support them, let this other shit go. Fuck retro.

Gusty Bellows;

It’s alright. This is the summer of love, dude. It spoke to my soul; it touched my Aquarius—over and over again.

Hinkleyhadavision:

The first time I remember hearing “Eve of Destruction” I was around three years old. It was the early 1970s and I was riding in my dad’s 1968 Valiant through the Black Hills. For me the meaning of the song has changed over time. As a child, I enjoyed listening to this song simply for the melody. By the time I grew into a rebellious teenager, protesting the 1991 Gulf War, I came to see the song is an important political take on the turmoil of the 1960s. Today, all that ugly history is starting to look rather tame. Now the song only makes me shake my head in disgust, as it could have been written yesterday. When you “think of all the hate there is in Red China, then take a look around” to Mar-a-Largo, Florida. 

Jimmy “Explosive Diarrhea” B:

There are quite a lot of songs that make me feel nostalgic for a time I barely knew (if I ever really knew it at all), such as “Ohio,” “For What It’s Worth,” etc. In 1965, when this Barry McGuire song was released, my parents were newlyweds, and my father was about to begin his quest of trying to avoid the Vietnam War—he somehow always stayed one step ahead of the draft board, first by having a family, later by joining the national guard, and finally by aging out of the draft pool. One of my earlier memories is of him shushing me while we watched television together. The screen was filled with soldiers; it was an announcement of troops returning home after the Vietnam War had been officially declared over. I remember how happy he was.

Songs like “Eve of Destruction” make me remember a happy time in my life, which is odd considering how depressing it was. It was a time before Reaganomics destroyed families. It was a time before the personal computer, cell phones, and blockbuster movies. It was a time when people would not or could not avoid each other (through the use of technology) and there was a stronger sense of community. And, most important to my eight-year-old self, it was a time of climbing trees, exploring the woods and mines, racing little red wagons down dangerous mountain sides, building forts, and all the other stuff that kids do (or did before computers and video games).

Null:

I first heard this song on an old AM radio in my dad’s garage one summer when I was a teenager. At least, that is my first memory of it, though it is likely I had heard it before, but this is the first time it spoke to me, or maybe the first time I really “heard” it. I immediately thought it was great, as I was basking in the light of punk rock, Bob Dylan, and 60’s “protest rock.” His spitting vocal tone set the stage for the unapologetic condemnation that would be a hallmark of punk rock. It is more than an anti-Vietnam War anthem, as it highlights war profiteers and the subtle insular hypocrisies of our day to day lives: “You can bury your dead, but don’t leave a trace, Hate your next door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace….” It presents a real critique that filters through the war machine to our acquiescence of these horrible atrocities while sitting in apathy at our dinner tables. I think it really speaks to de-humanization of those in faraway lands and those living next door. The music is great. The words are great, and unfortunately, still timely. It’s a classic.

PaulySure:

A few months ago, the night of November 8 to be exact, I was overcome with a sort of grief upon finding out that the angry tweeting misogynistic inexperienced oompa loompa had been elected to office. That feeling only lasted that night. November 9 brought about anger that I had not felt in a very long time—an anger that not as much made me want to destroy, but rather to create. I had in mind a protest video/art piece, depending on the view of the matter. The video would have involved close ups of me lighting some sort of U.S. Federal Reserve Note, possibly a $100 depending on how broke I was at the time, then using said note to light a cigar or cigarette, followed by using the note to then set an american flag on fire. I would then drop the flag on the ground, and have the camera stay focused on the flag as I walked away; hopefully a bald eagle would somehow drop dead out of the sky and burn up in the remains. So why did I not create this video? I couldn’t find the right song to use. Now that complete apathy has overcome me, I know that it would have been this song. 

SoDak:

When I was a child, I liked the growl in Barry McGuire’s voice. It sounded as if he was on the verge of spitting out the words. While the song was not polished, it was very catchy. I did not focus on the lyrics the first few times I heard the song. Absurdly, I became captivated by the song, when it was used repeatedly within an episode of The Greatest American Hero in 1981. I remember almost nothing else about this television show except for the blond, curly haired superhero and the theme song. In this episode, every time the superhero would get in his car, he would turn on the radio and “Eve of Destruction” was playing, which served as a warning prompting him to act to prevent a crazy U.S. general from firing nuclear weapons. As stupid as it sounds, the combination of the song and a plot focused on nuclear annihilation hit me, making me listen to the lyrics closer from this point forward. I remember the version on the show sounding odd—very clean. Since I had only seen this episode this one time, it was only much later that I learned that the version used on the show was sung by Joey Scarbury, who also sang the theme song for the television series. Following this show, I picked up a 45 single of the McGuire version and listened to it incessantly. Every election cycle, I could call a local radio station when it was request hour and ask for the song to be played and dedicated it to all the politicians running for office. This protest song only barely anticipated the shit that was culminating. Ever-expanding imperialist wars, the intensification of capitalist exploitation, the ongoing rise of fascist tendencies, and structural racism have turned the world into yet a bigger grave. “And you tell me, Over and over and over again my friend, Ah, you don’t believe, We’re on the eve of destruction.” “My blood’s so mad” watching this shit show within the country and world in general.