Great Songs from My Favorite Year in Music: 1985, Part 9

The Cure - "In Between Days" & "Close to Me"





(Single Releases: July 1985 / September 1985)
Following the darker tone of the Cure's infamous trilogy of "goth" albums (Seventeen Seconds, Faith & Pornography), there seemed to be a concerted effort to write singles. "The Lovecats," "The Walk," and "Let's Go to Bed" were all catchy pop singles without any parent album. While this may have been commonplace in England, the singles market in the U.S. has never really been as viable. For us, it has always been an albums game. As such, it was no great surprise that two ofThe Cure's biggest songs were also included on the watershed album, The Head on the Door. These two, plus the previously mentioned singles, showed a lighter side to the Cure, one that embraced celebratory horns, whimsical synth notes, and more traditional song structures. Along with Hatful of Hollow, The Head on the Door was one of the albums I borrowed the most from my sister, who, being two years older, always seemed to be slightly ahead of the music curve than I was. Though some might choose "Just Like Heaven" or possibly something from Disintegration as the most iconic Cure song, there is no doubt that "Close to Me" and "In Between Days" will end up fairly high on that list.

Great Songs from My Favorite Year in Music: 1985, Part 8

The Cult - "She Sells Sanctuary"



(Single Release: May 1985)
In the mid to late 80s and early 90s, there seemed to be a wealth of bands that found success by making a musical stew out of disparate influences. The Cult was certainly one of them. I was and am a big Cult fan. I loved everything about them: the biker meets hippie meets Warhol's Factory fashion sense, the anthemic guitar arrangements, Ian Astbury's gritty, yet melodious voice, and even their album cover aesthetics. Pretty much up until the release of "She Sells Sanctuary," and its parent album, Love, The Cult (nee the Southern Death Cult), was mostly known as a goth band. This song and album changed their direction, incorporating a bit of metal in their goth, a little pop in their drone, and a swagger in their shuffle. Their next album, Electric, would make the band worldwide superstars and would become half of the soundtrack for the summer of 1987, along with Guns n' Roses' Appetite for Destruction.

Films of the 60s, Part 4: They've Given You a Number and Taken Away Your Name

The lyrics from "Secret Agent Man," as performed by Johnny Rivers, were written with the James Bond franchise in mind, penned specifically for the action series Danger Man, a show practically virtually ripped from the Bond mythos. There were six canonical Bond movies made in the 60s, most of them with Sean Connery, the world's first collective Bond. Here are the first three in the series, the ones that established most of the Bond traditions we know and love.



Dr. No (1962, Terence Young)

This is arguably where it all started, at least when it comes to Bond canon. True, there had been television movie adaptations, but when Sean Connery stepped onto the screen as Agent 007 of British Intelligence, it became the start of a franchise that would become part of the worldwide consciousness for nearly half a century, and still going strong. Some consider Dr. No to be the best of the series and especially find Connery the best of the Bonds. I prefer not to hold any one against another, but it is often difficult to live up to a first success, especially if that first success carries the magnetism of Connery.

The film doesn’t quite have every element we’re all used to as being crucial to a Bond film, but several were started here. One case in point is the iconic “looking down the gun barrel” intro. The samba of “Three Blind Mice” doesn’t exactly hold up as being equal to the later memorable theme songs, but who could have known that would have become a key ingredient? Bond is introduced playing baccarat, showing us within the first twenty minutes that he is not afraid to gamble, to face danger, and can bed women at the drop of a razor-tipped hat. More of the tropes of the franchise pop up in the great names Fleming coined for his characters, like Strangways and Honey Ryder. Some of our beloved regulars make their first appearances here as well, including M, Miss Moneypenny, and Felix Leiter.

The titular Dr. No is a member of SPECTRE (the unwieldy acronym for the hilarious name, Special Executive for Counter-Intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge, and Extortion). His ultimate goal is to disrupt the launch of Project Mercury, the NASA mission to put a man into space. Through it all, Bond traipses through Jamaica seducing women, dealing with tarantulas, and beating up goons. In one interesting scene that is often cut in television airings Bond shoots a man in the back. But frankly, what else does one expect from a man with a license to kill? Sure, we want our heroes to be valiant, but honorable, schmonorable, there are evil hideout lairs to blow up!



From Russia with Love (1963, Terence Young)

James Bond doesn’t suffer from the sophomore slump in From Russia with Love. In fact, this film merely ups the ante, becoming one of the celebrated series of Connery fronted Bonds. Some more of the eventual traditional elements are added to the ones introduced in Dr. No including a theme song (though it only appears as background music during the film and through the closing credits), and Q with his wonderful gadgets. We also get the pre-credit action sequence, something that became a great Bond staple in every film since.

From Russia with Love often tops official lists of the best in the series and it is easy to see why. When an espionage film has a super-spy briefcase, seductive fighting gypsy girls, hilarious quips, and formidable foes, there’s not much more you can ask for. While Dr. No took place mainly in Jamaica, Russia starts the tradition of having Bond traverse the globe to be in numerous exotic locations throughout, in this case: Instanbul, Zagreb, Belgrade, and Venice. When it comes to Bond’s nemeses, Red Grant fits the bill both as a smart and tough foil, but also as a cocksure and flawed villain, making the same mistake that most would end up making, revealing his intentions and plans to Bond instead of eliminating the agent when he had the chance. Bond shows his priorities when, in trying to evade the bad guys, he throws the femme fatale in the bed of a pickup truck that is being bombarded. Way to give them a target!



Goldfinger (1964, Guy Hamilton)

The third time’s the charm as Goldfinger is the first of the Bond franchise to get its ducks all in a row. It’s all in the mix with this one, the consistent side characters, the opening action sequence, beautiful Bond girls, a solid villain, terrible one-liners, and an amazing theme song by the great Shirley Bassey. The theme song was so great, Bassey came back to perform two more Bond themes, and it has been parodied by the Simpsons. Want an example of one of the one-liners? After pushing one of the baddie thugs into the bathtub, he knocks a fan into the water, electrocuting him, then walks away saying, “Shocking…positively shocking.” Wow.

The joke has been made before that due to the several different actors playing Bond that he must be a regenerating Doctor (nerdy Dr. Who reference, anyone?). If that’s true, then it must be true for American CIA counterpart, Felix Leiter, who has been played by even more actors than Bond. Q’s gadgets again get their due, but this time we get to see his crazy experimental lab. One telling scene in how British Intelligence gets things done is when one of Q’s assistants starts firing a machine gun at another assistant, who later reveals a bulletproof vest. “It’s not perfected yet,” says Q. I hope the guy wearing the vest knew that.

Of course, it’s hard to see these films without recognizing the dated fashions and gadgets. Bond’s baby blue terrycloth robe / short-shorts combo is a particularly interesting ensemble. Most of the gadgets might have been state-of-the-art at the time, but are now commonplace. A GPS-like was but a pipe dream back then, but is now available on every smartphone. Watching these films provides a unique window into the Cold War and the Space Race, a time when Dr. No tried to disrupt a space launch, when a group of subversive agents pit the Soviets and British against each other, and in this third film, the aptly named Goldfinger attempts to destroy the gold at Fort Knox, thus increasing the value of his own storehouses, and in turn, crippling the American economy, putting the Chinese at an advantage. Oh no, Communism! In a twist that could only happen in the movies, Bond (really an accompanying atomic scientist) stops the bomb countdown at 007.

Great Songs from My Favorite Year in Music: 1985, Part 7

The Chameleons - "Perfume Garden"



(Album Release: October 1985)
I would have loved the Chameleons in 1985. With my love of Anglo-import music such as Echo, New Order, Aztec Camera, and so many others, these Mancunians would have fit right in. The first time hearing "Perfume Garden" was a revelation. It was as if I were hearing a song that was at the same time a cornerstone and building block of today's popular bands (Interpol, anyone?) as well as something that was altogether timeless. There is almost nothing about this song that betrays its age. I would argue that this song could be shuffled on a Pandora station with modern bands and nobody would bat an eye. They never got as big as their contemporaries, but let's hope that time can amend that situation.

Great Songs from My Favorite Year in Music: 1985, Part 6

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds - "Tupelo"



(Single Release: july 1985)
Nick Cave is yet another artist that I hadn't discovered until years into his storied career. I don't consider this a bad thing, as had I been introduced to his dark, brooding, and tortured rock in 1985, my adolescent mind wouldn't have been able to cope. I had enough angst as it was. Thankfully, there is no wrong time to discover the wonders of the music of Nick Cave and his Bad Seeds. "Tupelo," from Cave's sophomore album, The Firstborn is Dead, is his ode to Elvis, telling an apocalyptic, Old Testament-style, fire and brimstone tale of Elvis' portentous birth, as if he were either the second coming, or the result of some unholy coupling. Cave's delivery seems to hint at something evil brewing, a theme that would pervade many of his compositions, but this seems more that there are signs and omens that somehow inevitably point to the birth of the King, who came ten years after the Great Mississippi Flood, and carried the burden of Tupelo with him wherever he went.

Great Songs from My Favorite Year in Music: 1985, Part 5

Kate Bush - "Running Up That Hill"



(Single Release: August 1985)
The driving beat of the drums propels this song ever forward, matching the sentiment in the title. As happens with many great songs, the original has been somewhat forgotten by everyone other than the stalwart fans, if heard at all. That's because successful cover versions tend to steal the spotlight, as with Placebo's more recent version, which has been featured in nearly every CW show under the sun. But, voice-wise, Brian Molko does not equal Kate Bush. Sometimes thought to be a plea to switch places with God, the true interpretation, as per Bush, is that it is a plea with God to switch the gender roles in the relationship so they can better understand each other. The lines "Is there so much hate for the ones we love? / Tell me we both matter, don't we?" are devastating.

Great Songs from My Favorite Year in Music: 1985, Part 4

Big Audio Dynamite - "E=MC2"



(Album Release: October 1985)
Mick Jones didn't waste a lot of time in letting Clash fans figure out what was going to happen next after the band broke up. His Big Audio Dynamite project picked up where the Clash's leanings toward dance music left off, embracing the new sound wholeheartedly. Synths and sampling became the central elements of B.A.D.'s sound, which somewhat divided old Clash fans. "E=MC2" harbored a sing-song quality that many of Jones' compositions past and present shared, but it was something distinctly from 1985.