Tag Archives: Sheila E.

Today’s Top 5: 33 Years Ago Today (Aug. 6, 1984)

Can it be? Thirty-three years ago as I write, I was basking in the glow of having just seen Crosby, Stills & Nash show at the Mann Music Center, an open-air venue, in Philly. The ticket stub for the concert, which was paper clipped into my Doonesbury-themed desk diary for decades, is currently AWOL…not that it matters much. I have my memories.

Two weeks earlier, on July 24th, I saw Roger Waters (with Eric Clapton on guitar) at the Spectrum – another great show despite the former Pink Floyd bassist chiding the audience to “stop the fookin’ whistling.” (He apologized after intermission; in England, he said, whistles equate with boos, but Eric explained to him that in the States – or, at least, Philly – they equate with cheers.) And nine days later, on the 14th, I found myself at the back of the Mann’s ample lawn, right where it turns to pavement, to see Huey Lewis & the News.

In that same time span, I picked up three albums: Stephen Stills’ Right by You, Otis Redding’s Best of and the Byrds’ Greatest Hits, Vol. II; and, as the month unfolded, just two more: John David Souther’s Home by Dawn and Jefferson Airplane’s Volunteers, which I already owned on cassette but wanted on vinyl. I wasn’t quite walking in lockstep with pop culture, in other words, though I owned eight of the top 25 albums listed in this month’s Record charts.

And if you’re feeling a slight twinge of deja vu – that’s because, yes, we have been here before. My plan to spin this intro into a Top 5 based on this month’s Record magazine has been waylaid by forgetfulness on my part: Once I retrieved said issue from the temperature-controlled vault and saw the cover…oops. l featured it in a Top 5 on January 30, 2016.

What I didn’t say then, but will share now: Those few purchases were due to me being out of work for a spell: The single-screen Hatboro Theatre, where I worked (and worked, and worked) as an usher for the previous year, closed its doors for the final time on Sunday, July 22nd. To rephrase a Joni Mitchell lyric, they paved paradise and put up a Wendy’s. (That’s me in the doorway in the accompanying picture, which I scanned way back in 2003; if I ever come across the original photo again, and it’s here somewhere, I’ll scan it at a higher resolution.)

There was good news on the horizon, however: On the same day that I saw Huey Lewis, I interviewed for and scored a new job as sales associate at a major department store – in the Domestics department. I learned to fold towels and sheets, and keep my cool when accosted by overzealous customers.

Also, an interesting side note – as my desk diary shows, the day before that CSN concert, I received the bill for the fall semester at Penn State Ogontz, which was one of a dozen-plus PSU satellite campuses scattered across the commonwealth. The total cost: $1123. Today, to attend the same campus – which has since been renamed Penn State Abington – the cost is $6770 for tuition, $236 for the student fee and $252 for the Information Technology Fee – $7258 altogether. That’s more than twice the (cumulative) rate of inflation! That’s just not right.

In the wider world, the dominant stories in the news revolved around the Summer Olympics, which were taking place in L.A. The presidential race between incumbent Ronald Reagan (R) and challenger Walter Mondale (D) was in the offing, but the campaign was on the back burner – unlike today, political campaigns were not year-round exercises. The economy was doing okay, but not great: Unemployment stood at 7.5 percent on August 1st; and inflation was 4.29 percent.

Popular movies of the summer included the feature-length music video known as Purple Rain, which opened on July 27th; Ghostbusters and Gremlins, which had been in the theaters since June 8th; and not Police Academy, which was released in March and, at this point in time, was past the end of its life cycle. (Those were the kinds of films the Hatboro Theatre had towards the end.) On the TV front – aside from the Olympics, everything was in repeats. TV in the summertime was always dull, in those days; the (wrong) assumption was that few people watched.

Anyway, enough of this voluminous intro. Here’s Today’s Top 5: 33 Years Ago Today (Aug. 6, 1984), though the charts – courtesy of my go-to site for such things, Weekly Top 40, are for the week ending the 4th. They’re the top songs of the week.

1) “When Doves Cry” by Prince. The now-classic ode to pigeon love ruled supreme for the fifth week in a row.

2) “Ghostbusters” by Ray Parker Jr. The theme to the original Ghostbusters clocks in at No. 2.

3) “State of Shock” by the Jacksons with Mick Jagger. Moving up from No. 4 to No. 3 is this unlikely collaboration…

4) “Dancing in the Dark” by Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band. Slipping to No. 4 from No. 3 is this great song from the Boss, which remains a delight to hear in concert.

5) “What’s Love Got to Do With It” by Tina Turner. In its 11th week on the charts, this instant classic – which, according to Wikipedia, had been first offered to Cliff Richard(!) – jumps from No. 9 to No. 5 on its way to No. 1.

And a few bonuses…

6) “The Glamorous Life” by Sheila E. This semi-mainstay of today’s oldies radio (at least as heard on WOGL-FM in Philly, which I’ve been groovin’ to of late) reaches its top spot on the charts this week…No. 31.

7) “Cruel Summer” by Bananarama. The seventh single by the British girl group was its first U.S. top 10 single. Here, in its third week of release, it’s one of the “power plays,” jumping from No. 55 to 43.

8) “Let’s Go Crazy” by Prince. And, to bookend this Top 5, here’s another chart entry from the Purple One, a “power play” that enters the charts at No. 45.

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Today’s Top 5: October 1984 (via Record Magazine)

IMG_0764October 1984 is basically a blip on the radar of time, with only two notable events occurring in its 31 days: astronaut Kathryn D. Sullivan became the first woman to walk in space on the 11th; and Indian prime minister Indira Gandhi was assassinated by two of her bodyguards on its final day. In America, Reagan v. Mondale was in full swing but, really, everyone already knew the outcome.

On the personal front: This was a good month in my life. No, let me rephrase: This was a great month. On October 22nd, I attended a rally for Walter Mondale – no, that wasn’t the great part. This was: I met Stephen Stills, who was (and remains) one of my favorite musical artists, at the event. (You can read about that here.)

The month didn’t start off so well, however: On October 3rd, I received a speeding ticket and, that same day, locked my keys in my car. Doh! The ticket, thankfully, was rescinded; the officer, bless his heart, forgot to sign it.

I picked up some good LPs, including two masterpieces that are on my (nonexistent as of yet) Albums Everyone Should Own list: Crosby & Nash’s Wind on the Water and David Crosby’s If I Could Only Remember My Name.

Anyway, this issue of Record features a cover story on the Jacksons and their hot “Victory” tour that I’ve never read. For me, the issue is notable because of Bill Flanagan’s excellent interview of Lou Reed and an interesting essay by Peter Buck.

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1) Lou Reed – “New Sensations.” In the interview, Lou talks about his current New Sensations album, which I picked up in June, and more. “I’m part of the baby boom generation. The first generation that grew up on rock. Right out of the ‘50s, that’s me. Along with that, for better or worse, comes a lot of ‘50s attitudes—which, to my mind, as I’ve gotten older, has not been a good thing. I mention in ‘New Sensations’ that it’s something I’m trying to work past. I want to get past that ‘50s view that I really have been in, either by manifesting it or going in the other direction and rebelling against it. What I want to do is go past it. I would hate to have to live with those tacky kind of attitudes. I want more out of life.”

In the next paragraph, he explains that “Faulkner wrote only about the swamp. James Jones wrote only about the war. But I didn’t want to write just about dope and New York…I did my drug songs. I don’t want to make that my war, my swamp, my city. That’s not what I’m primarily interested in. I’m interested in emotions, things that happen to people.”

The interview closes with: “I’ve said this before: what if Raymond Chandler approached rock ’n’ roll? Well, you might get Street Hassle. What if a real writer came in? Just like they brought real writers like Faulker out to Hollywood to write screenplays. That’s what I wanted to do in a rock ’n’ roll format. I’m still at it. It’s like sitting and listening to Brecht and Weill’s ‘Song for the Seven Deadly Sins’; there’s a song for every sin out there. There’s endless things to write about. You could do that with rock, too. That’s what I want to do.”

IMG_07682) Sheila E. – “The Glamorous Life.” Craig Zeller reviews Sheila E.’s debut in conjunction with the Time’s Ice Cream Castle because of their shared Prince connection. Of The Glamorous Life, which I’d picked up over the summer, he writes: “Not surprisingly, the head-and-shoulders standout here is the title cut wherein Sheila E. goes after high living with an exuberant lunge that’ll have you racing your engines. It’s the kind of heel-clicking thrill seeker that makes you wanna take the curve on two wheels. And, brother, does she raise some thunder on those drums! Ever see the video where she’s whacking out the rhythm in a gleeful frenzy? I just did and it’s time for another cold shower. All in all, I’m not sure I’d give you the Time of Day, because it’s the glamorous life for me.”

IMG_07693) R.E.M. – “Can’t Get There From Here.” R.E.M. guitarist Peter Buck pens an essay titled “The True Spirit of American Rock” in which he asserts that “even though British bands are selling millions of records, that doesn’t tell the whole story about what’s happening musically in the States. There’s deeply-heartfelt music being made by American bands that most people in this country are ignoring and that the British don’t even get to hear.” He offers Husker Du, Mission of Burma and the Replacements as three examples.

He also explains that “[a] lot of British records that are big in this country take the passion and spirit of American soul music and turn it into supper-club, MOR slush that’s the rock ’n’ roll equivalent of Las Vegas. Words like ‘passion’ and ‘spirit’ are the flavor of the month these days; they get tossed around so often that they’ve lost much of their meaning. Still, the music I like most is done by people who convey a sense of self, a feeling that they’d continue making music even if they weren’t making records. Music is a part of their lives, not just a vehicle to stardom. I can’t define it exactly—good music can run the gamut from Hank Williams to Black Flag—other than to say I’m moved by music made by real people for real reasons.”

IMG_07704) The Style Council – “My Ever Changing Moods.” Anthony DeCurtis has the Final Word this issue:

“Except for the Brit-punk detonation, the ‘70s and early ‘80s offered little to listeners who like social significance to spike their sounds. The surreal remoteness of huge stadium and arena shows by demigod pop stars publicly dramatized the chasm of alienation those years cracked between bands and their audience, between the world of millionaire entertainers and the everyday concerns of working people.

“While that chasm has in no way been fully bridged, politically conscious music has resurged in the last few years from many (sometimes surprising) sources and for many reasons.”

Paul Weller’s Style Council gets a nod for its 1984 release, My Ever Changing Moods (known in Weller’s home country as Cafe Bleu; it was renamed in the States to match the single, which hit No. 29 on the Billboard charts). “The Style Council’s Brechtian disc is extremely subversive,” says De Curtis.

5) Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band – “Born in the U.S.A.” De Curtis also singles out Springsteen’s 1984 release in his essay: “Springsteen chronicles American working-class like in the wake of Vietnam, an economic ‘recovery’ that benefits the managerial class almost exclusively, and external conditions that turn the patriotic fervor working people have always felt into a humiliating ironic joke. The triumph of Born on the U.S.A. is Springsteen’s ability to depict the human cost of oppression without condescending to, sentimentalizing, or caricaturing the people whose lives form his subject.”