For the month of October, I’m selecting a song each day from the decade that has the most meaning to me: the 80s. It was the decade that I grew up in. The period of time where I discovered my love for music — and explored many different genres. For the next 31 days, I’ll highlight a handful of songs that I truly loved and that were representative of the decade. #31DaysOf80sSongs
During high school, my town caught the last strands of radio waves that snaked their way up NYC’s northern suburbs from Long Island’s WDRE. These radio waves shaped what my alt music friends and I listened to. It saved us from overplaying Billy Joel, Zeppelin, U2 and the Dead to death. We heard some great sounds coming out of that radio station — modern rock, post punk, new wave, jangle pop, among other genres. And then there was a strange breed of weirdness. I didn’t know what to call it, but it was highlighted by a string of They Might Be Giants anthems, including “Istanbul (Not Constantinople)”, “Birdhouse in Your Soul” and “Ana Ng”.
Sometimes it’s the simplest of guitar riffs that reel us in. There’s nothing intricate or terribly unique about it. But it forms the rhythmic bed for the song’s entire contents — from the melody to the drum parts to the secondary instruments. Those ancillary instruments are worth noting. There’s no bass guitar listed in the liner notes. But there’s an accordion, an autoharp and even spoken word monologue. Lastly, the song’s meaning isn’t entirely clear to me. Is it about a long-distance romance? Or a day trip at the world fair? Or both? Maybe that doesn’t matter. The song had me at the track name and opening riff.
“Everything sticks like a broken record.”