30 Years, 30 Days: Day 1, 1980

September 1st, 2010

Lengthy introduction aside, I'm ready to plow into the meat of

things. Let's start in 1980, my birth year.

I have no memory of experiencing any of the music of 1980 firsthand. I do not know the first piece of music I ever heard, or the first song I sang along to on the radio, or the music I might have overheard my parents listen to while I lay in my crib. But the following is a selection of music from 1980 that I would come to eventually in my lifetime (some at a young age, some perhaps just last year), and make room in my head and heart to carry with me indefinitely.

1980 was a pretty big shake-up of a year for the old guard. Lennon was shot in December, Ian Curtis hung himself, John Bonham was found dead by his bassist, causing Zeppelin to call it quits a few months later. Even Bon Scott, whose sheer persona helped define 70s hard rock, proved in his death that the lifestyle may be a bit larger than any one individual.

But quite a few new bands popped up in 1980 as well. And some of these bands would mean a huge deal to me as I got older. So, with my birth, you also got the birth of The Minutemen, Minor Threat, New Order, Depeche Mode, The Smithereens, The Church, and two that still get spun in my house and in my heart, R.E.M. and Violent Femmes. I'll get into more detail as the years go on.

There are three records that were released in 1980 that have meant a great deal to me. They are, in no order, Get Happy by Elvis Costello and the Attractions, London Calling by The Clash (US release, and since I was also "released" in the US, I will honor that year for my own purposes) and Black Sea by XTC.

Get Happy was a "handed to me with great emphasis" record in mid high school. A friend and fellow music geek was appalled that I had never really listened to Elvis Costello, and he lent me his copy of Get Happy (the Ryko reissue on CD with about a million bonus tracks). I still have that exact copy from my friend, nearly 14 years later. I did not give it back. I don't think I could have given it back. I offered to by him a replacement copy, but he didn't seem to mind. He would remain a casual fan. I would become a rabid one.

The first thing that struck me about Get Happy was the bass. It was just flying all over the damn place! Bruce Thomas didn't just walk, he sprinted, pausing for a moment to explore his surroundings, and then BAM onto the next chord run. I had heard my share of jazz, and a fast walking bass line was nothing new to me. And Who records had definitely shown me that bassist need not sit idly behind the root of the chord. But Thomas just moved so fluidly amongst the rest of the band. Later in my teens, I would hear Graham Maby from Joe Jackson's band on "Sunday Papers" and be reminded of Bruce Thomas, although Maby's lines preceded Get Happy by a whole year.

And of course, there was Costello himself. At this point, I had no reference to the This Year's Model/Armed Forces years, so I didn't know that he was actually a bit tamer than he had previously come across. His lyrics were so cocksure, so confident, so "I-don't-give-a-damn-what-you-think". He was always telling some girl about how her man was no good for her, but he wasn't always asserting he was the better alternative. From "Love For Tender" (the record's opening track): "I'll pay you a compliment/ You think I am innocent/ You can total up the balance sheet/ And never know if I'm a counterfeit". The wordplay on Presley's "Love Me Tender" gives us a song where every aspect of love is referred to in financial terms. I was by no means as cynical as Costello in my teen years, but even I could nod in agreement at the absurdity of describing love in money terms. I listened to this record incessantly, absorbing everything I could about his style and personae. I had a new musical idol.

London Calling also came into my life at about the same time. I loved punk rock at the

time, but this was the first punk I'd ever heard that had a real ethos behind it. The Clash's message was that of questioning authority, which was present in a lot of the punk I already listened. But The Clash also demanded that you stand up for justice and be politically minded, which was not always the theme in 90s punk rock. The mid 90s were right about the time that punk was beginning to be co-opted and regurgitated back to us by major record labels. It was fantastic to hear punk rock in its infancy, with all the attitude and sneer, and none of the designer clothes and $30 concert tickets.

My favorite track of the double-album was without a doubt "Rudie Can't Fail". I cannot, for the life of me, tell you why. Something about that "on-the-one" drum beat, up-tempo reggae bass and bold horn section. I would later learn that I was discovering ska and roots reggae, played through the interpretations of a bunch of skinny lads from London. To this day, I still can't quite understand everything Strummer is singing in that song, and to this day, I still don't care. What a killer beat!

I wouldn't come to XTC fully until college. Black Sea was purchased at NYCD in Fredonia, NY, under the suggestion of the owner, Brian, who had never steered me wrong. At a party at his house some months before, a friend of his had suggested I listen to Oranges and Lemons, based on my ravings about the bass playing skill of the aforementioned Bruce Thomas of The Attractions. I did buy it, and I did like it, but XTC would have laid dormant in my psyche if not for Black Sea. XTC could get a little too Beatle-esque at times, a little to constructed in terms of pop melodies and arrangement. But Black Sea was darker, more sarcastic, more confrontational than other XTC I had listened to. "Generals and Majors", probably the record's most upbeat song, has one of the more finger-pointing refrains: "Generals and majors always/ Seem so unhappy 'less they got a war". "Paper and Iron (Notes And Coins)" was about the seeming futility of being a working stiff, and working myself through college, I could wholeheartedly agree with the sentiment.

And, yes, Colin Moulding's bass playing was in the same vein of bombast as Bruce Thomas. But I didn't really pay as much attention to it after a bit, I was so transfixed with Moulding and lead singer Andy Partidge's harmonies. I loved the gloss that was put over everything, that shine in the mixing and production. I usually steered away from 80s pop records because of the artificialness in the sound, but Black Sea sounded like it was meant to be this shiny and polished. It was still so freakin' heavy and rocked more than any other XTC record I've ever heard.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, Day 1 down, 29 more to go. Thanks for reading, and I hope you stick it out with me as long as I keep writing it. Feel free to use my ramblings for the next month not as one man's gospel on rock music, but as a jumping off point for discussion, even debate. See you all tomorrow with 1981.

-Dan