"PANIC" THE SMITHS (1986)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

The paradox of Marr’s upbeat guitar compositions and Morrissey’s lyrics is the magic of The Smiths. Nothings against Rourke & Joyce, those two certainly contributed greatly to The Smiths’ success. But it’s the Marr-Morrissey paradox that makes The Smiths unlike any other band on the planet. It’s the tension that you can’t put out of your mind. It occurs on nearly every Smiths track – and reaches boiling point on “Panic”.

Forget the social ills. Forget the social alienation. “Panic” is a revolt against bad music. Inspired by a moment when the band saw the news of Chernobyl followed by Wham!’s “I’m Your Man”, something about the music just didn’t sit right. “Panic” seems like an overstatement to the casual music fan. But to those who put more weight into what’s being played, “Panic” was fully justified and relevant. It is for me.

“Burn down the disco. Hang the blessed DJ
Because the music that they constantly play, It says nothing to me about my life.”

"MAYOR OF SIMPLETON" XTC (1989)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

During my high school years, my friend’s older sister introduced me to WDRE/WLIR. “They play cool music.” The introduction went something like that. That radio station literally changed the trajectory of my musical preferences. I was forever stuck in classic rock. And when I say forever, I’m referring to 8th-10th grades. WDRE was the city’s local alt / college rock station, which made it a treasure trove especially during the eighties. XTC is a band that I wouldn’t have discovered if it weren’t for that station. Songs like “Earn Enough For Us”, “Making Plans For Nigel”, “Dear God” and “Mayor of Simpleton” got regular airplay on it.

XTC was always big on clever lyrics and inventive, yet catchy melodies. The brainchild of Andy Partridge, “Mayor of Simpleton” has both. The song’s lyrics took an interesting approach, pairing shortcomings of being simple-minded with knowing perhaps the one thing that really matters. The rather abrupt guitar chord intro, Beatlesque chorus and soaring bridge deliver all the charm you can handle.

“And I can't unravel riddles, problems and puns. How the home computer has me on the run And I may be the Mayor of Simpleton. But I know one thing And that's I love you.”

"SUBURBIA" PET SHOP BOYS (1986)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

Like many stateside, “West End Girls” was my introduction to the edgy synthscapes and witty verse of Pet Shop Boys. Please is one of the genre’s greatest debut albums. And though I think PSB’s singles are much better than the original album versions, it is a treasure trove. In addition to “West End Girls”, it’s packed with other big tracks like “Opportunities”, “Love Comes Quickly”, “Two Divided By Zero” and one of my favorites: “Suburbia”.

While another 80’s anthem – Rush’s “Subdivisions” – painted a bleak picture of suburban life, this track seemed to go even darker – moving beyond high school cliques and into a world of violence and squalor. In stark contrast, the music created a utopian vibe with the soaring synth notes. “Suburbia”’s defining element is probably the dog barks – deliberately electronic and fake in their sound – and all the more powerful for it.

“Where's a policeman when you need one
To blame the colour TV?”

"THE SPIRIT OF RADIO" RUSH (1980)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

There never was and never will be another rocker as talented as Neil Peart. Behind the quiet, stoic veneer was a man who was an absolute beast on drums and a master of the lyric. I always loved his drumming – the sheer speed, technique, versatility and originality. He has no peers. But lyrically, I didn’t always get it. The fantasy worlds that Neil created often soared over my head. But he is a brilliant lyricist – and occasionally his lyrics leave me speechless, like the words on “The Spirit Of Radio”.

It’s one of Rush’s big anthems – and part of the band’s coming out party. “The Spirit Of Radio” literally put them on the radio for good. Many think this is Alex’s song – as his opening guitar riff is one of Rush’s best openings – if not one of rock & roll’s best openings period. And with a song that became as mainstream as Rush gets, it’s easy to overlook the brilliance of Neil’s lyrics. It’s part poem, part essay, and at the end of the day, it’s just a song about the power of music – written in a way that only Neil can capture.

“For the words of the profits Were written on the studio wall. Concert hall Echoes with the sounds of salesmen.”

"THE DOWNEASTER 'ALEXA'" BILLY JOEL (1989)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

This song will always be a fond memory for me as a music fan. The Storm Front tour show at Giants Stadium, NJ was my first rock concert. Being outside in the spring air with my high school buddies to see the Piano Man play classic after classic was an unforgettable experience. I still remember our seats. I remember the air. I remember the songs that made our bodies move. And then there were songs that we preferred to enjoy in our seats. “The Downeaster Alexa” was one of them.

As a master storyteller, many of Billy Joel’s songs are gripping, novel-like narratives. “The Downeaster ‘Alexa” is one of his finest songs, recounting the plight of a fisherman—with local references like Block Island Sound, Nantucket, Montauk and Gardiner’s Bay. The song is named after Joel’s own boat. But more strikingly, the story sounds like his own as well. Seeing Billy perform it live, I felt like my very hands were on the wheel of the Alexa. A visual song is a powerful one.

“But I've got people back on land who count on me. So if you see my Downeaster Alexa and if you work with the rod and the reel, tell my wife I am trolling Atlantis.”

"STATE TROOPER" BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN (1982)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

In today’s cess pool of slick, over-produced albums, Nebraska stands as a beacon of all that’s good. The purity of the songwriting. The rawness of the performance. That’s it. I can appreciate a good synth flourish or extra guitar part like the next guy. But sometimes I just want to hear a great song, unencumbered and untangled. That’s the entire Nebraska album, including the brooding “State Trooper”.

Recorded in his house on a 4-track, “State Trooper” has the sound of genius emanating on the fly. Springsteen’s gift of songwriting lies in his ability to step inside someone else’s shoes and tell their story. Tell their story is what he does on “State Trooper”. It feels authentic and just the right amount of tension and anxiety to make you believe every word. It’s just his words and two chords on his guitar.

“Hey, somebody out there, listen to my last prayer. Hi ho silver-o, deliver me from nowhere.”

"DON'T YOU WANT ME" THE HUMAN LEAGUE (1981)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

The casual music fan in the U.S. knows The Human League by one song: “Don’t You Want Me”. Sure, there were other singles during their pop phase that were better – “(Keep Feeling) Fascination”, “The Lebanon”, “Love Action”, among others. More serious fans realize that the early years were the best. Darker and more experimental – “Being Boiled” and “Empire State Human” were some of the standouts. When you look at what the band accomplished early on, it’s easy to make fun of “Don’t You Want Me”. But I like to think of it as my guilty pleasure.

Cheesy Casiotone-like synth riffs. Cheesy lyrics. Cheesy vocal baton pass. And I love every second of it. “Don’t You Want Me” is a time capsule of “such good times”. It dominated on MTV, turning eighties kids like me on to The Human League. These days, it’s a song that carries so much nostalgia with it because it has not stood the test of time at all. We crank it up in the car & queue it up on the karaoke list because it brings us back.

“I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, that much is true.”

"EVERYTHING COUNTS" DEPECHE MODE (1983)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

It wasn’t until 1986’s Black Celebration that Depeche Mode truly cemented their dark, ominous brand of synth pop. It’s the era that I gravitate toward the most – and it’s the start of the band’s imperial phase. The rest of the catalog preceding it was a little spotty in my opinion. But that doesn’t take away the fact that there were some real gems in the early days, including the standout single from Construction Time Again: “Everything Counts”. Aside from “Just Can’t Get Enough”, “Everything Counts” is really the only song that still remains on the band’s setlists. That’s a full 40 years after it was released as a single.

As one of the standouts on the album, “Everything Counts” showcased the iconic persona of Depeche Mode: hook-laden, danceable, infectious, and, often at times, dark. Written by Martin Gore, the song went on the offensive, calling out corporate greed with a somewhat satircal approach. The bass synth part is utterly sinister, lurking with precision from beginning to end. Wilder’s synth hook – sometimes played on a xylophone – sounds like a music toy possessed by an evil spirit, which is flanked by quirky instruments that go beyond DM’s typical keyboard decks, including a melodica. Then there’s Gahan. With his signature bass vocals, Gahan is the narrator and antithesis of Gordon Gekko.

“The handshake seals the contract. From the contract, there’s no turning back.”

"POLICE ON MY BACK" THE CLASH (1980)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

From the late seventies into the early eighties, three bands made some noise as disruptors. They achieved this distinction by experimenting with various genres, never content to stay within a single genre. They are Talking Heads, The Police and The Clash. With the latter, we heard a cross-section of different sounds and styles on the band’s previous release, London Calling. Sandinista ended up being a far greater melting pot, using a triple LP format to experiment with funk, reggae, disco, rockabilly, folk, rhythm & blues, among others. This experimental rigor on songs like “Police On My Back” is what makes The Clash a fun band to listen to.

The song was written by Eddy Grant, who showed us how it take it higher with “Electric Avenue”. While The Clash often dabbles in bigger socio-political commentary, these lyrics felt more deeply personal – and still seem like quintessential Clash. The song smacks of rebellion, recklessness and abandon. The chorus is iconic, but my favorite part is still the guitar riff that mimics a police car siren.

“I been running Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday.”

"THE HEADMASTER RITUAL" THE SMITHS (1985)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

Throughout the entire Smiths catalog runs a consistent tension between the upbeat, jangly guitar riffs of Johnny Marr and the bleak, dismal musings of Morrissey. Perhaps one of the most unusual pairings in rock history – and the paradox has not only served The Smiths well, it has helped them to become one of the most important bands of the eighties. “The Headmaster Ritual” is a microcosm of this beautiful tension.

The beginning of the song reminds me of how The Cure opens many of their songs. Letting the instruments do the introductions. Extremely uncharacteristic for the band, Morrissey doesn’t start singing until the :50 mark, allowing Marr’s Rickenbacker to set the tone. Like on many Smiths songs, the guitar riffs lift you up. When Morrissey finally enters the picture, he drags us down with an awful commentary on school life in Manchester. It’s this up-and-down tension that makes “The Headmaster Ritual” such a gem of a track.

“Belligerent ghouls Run Manchester schools. Spineless swines. Cemented minds.”

"SYNCHRONICITY II" THE POLICE (1983)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

As a member of The Police, Sting was many things. A captivating frontman. An underrated bassist. And a sharp, witty lyricist. His lyrics were like poetry one moment, prose in another. And the words he used in “Synchronicity II” are some of the most memorable lyrics in rock history. They have the power to make you laugh just as they’re able to keep you settled in awe. It was always all about the words.

“Synchronicity II” is a rock song. And it’s not a rock song. It’s written and performed as if it came from an opera composer. Sting, Summers and Copeland were always intelligent rockers, but they made something here that elevated new wave, post punk and all the other labels that we wanted to attach to them. “Synchronicity II” cannot be categorized. It can just be appreciated for what it is. A brilliant commentary on a bleak, mundane suburbia with a sound we’d never heard before.

“The secretaries pout and preen like cheap tarts in a red light street.”

"DOCTOR! DOCTOR!" THOMPSON TWINS (1984)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

During the mid eighties, Thompson Twins seemed hell bent on one thing: getting us to dance. They did it fast-tempo, mid-tempo and slow. Their musical cocktails mixed catchy melodies, synth jams, three-part harmonies, drum machines and assorted percussion instruments to create the impulse to move. And that ability to do it with a variety of tempos might be the Thompson Twins’ sharpest skill. Everyone remembers the catchy, yet slightly campy “Doctor! Doctor!”.

Those far eastern-influenced synth riffs are etched into my brain, giving me the ability to instantly recall them after not hearing them for decades. “Doctor! Doctor!” is an eighties anthem that hasn’t exactly aged well into the current decade. Nonetheless, it’s a nostalgic look back at what pop outfits were able to do with an infectious melody when they combined the use of synthesizers and analog instruments.

“Dance with me across the sea.”

"THE CHAUFFEUR" DURAN DURAN (1982)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

My childhood isn’t complete without Rio. Few recordings are as connected to my early musical discovery years as this album. This was an album that a family friend introduced my brother and I to. He raved about the singles. He went on and on about the ballads. And he paid proper homage to “The Chauffeur”. Rio was full of radio-friendly songs that paired nicely with elaborate and exotic video shoots. The album is sugary and sweet, which is what makes the final track a bit of a pleasant surprise. “The Chauffeur”, a fan favorite, is the indisputed anomaly on the album.

“Hungry Like The Wolf”, “My Own Way” and “Rio” grab you, but “The Chauffeur” grows on you. The closing track from Rio revealed a darker, more mysterious side to the pop band. “The Chauffeur” put Duran Duran’s versatility on full display, with a moodier synth experiment from Nick Rhodes and even Simon Le Bon on the ocarina. The track is atmospheric and even visual. I can picture a long, aimless drive by the chauffeur late at night every single time I hear it. It’s not just a great Duran Duran anthem, it’s one of the greatest closing tracks of the eighties.

“Sing, sing blue silver.”

"DREAM ATTACK" NEW ORDER (1989)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

Technique will always be my favorite New Order album. The way those songs sounded one after another made it truly difficult for me to hear the individual tracks in isolation. The troubles with the band have been well-documented in Peter Hook’s memoir Substance. But it’s the chaos and the backdrop of Ibiza that led to one of the band’s greatest recordings. Album aside, if I had to pick a standout, “Dream Attack” is it.

One of the greatest closing tracks of the eighties, “Dream Attack” ended strong with a mid-tempo symphony of driving synth bass, iconic real bass lines by Hooky, piano-sounding synth and a medley of synth and guitar flourishes. Hooky has mentioned that some of Barney’s best vocals are when he’s stretching his range. While I tend to agree with that overall assessment, I think the lower key on “Dream Attack” really served the song well in terms of the vocals. Nothing in this world can touch it.

“Nothing in this world Can touch the music that I heard.”

"IN BLOOM" IAN MCCULLOCH (1989)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

Candleland is a standout album from a standout year in music. 1989 brought on many great debut albums, banner releases and solo efforts. Candleland was a much more interesting listen to me in its entirety as opposed to the individual singles that found their way on modern rock radio such as “Faith and Healing” and “Proud to Fall”. In my opinion, “In Bloom” is a better song than the aforementioned.

“In Bloom” draws striking similarities to the iconic Echo & The Bunnymen track, “The Killing Moon”. With its epic structure and other worldly accents, it’s an ambitious rock song built to make an impression. The supplementary guitar riffs in the background are fantastic, standing in stark contrast to the muscular guitar hook in the foreground. And the lyrics, they speak for themselves. Poetic and simple. McCulloch always had a way with words.

“Rice fields, Feet soaking. Minefields, Here's hoping.”

"HERE IS THE HOUSE" DEPECHE MODE (1986)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

Black Celebration is the album where the band’s dark, infectious sound really came together. Up until then, I thought of Depeche Mode as a singles band. They had some great one-offs. Black Celebration was different. The songs fit perfectly together and helped differentiate their sound among a sea of synth pop outfits. From now on, DM would do it darker, kinkier, catchier. “Here Is My House” is a perfect microcosm of their approach.

It’s a song that reminds me of my youth. Memories of my first “real” girlfriend singing it to me in her bedroom attic. “Here Is My House” is a fan favorite. A song so melodic, so brooding, so sensual, it’s the magic formula that Depeche Mode has uniquely conjured time and time again. But this deep cut didn’t get the recognition of a “Stripped” or “A Question Of Lust”. Wilder’s synth lines are simply a series of cascading keys. Fletch’s bass lines lurk and slither around. On vocals, Gahan takes lead, Gore with some fantastic backing parts and harmonies. But the best part of the song will always be the melody. Brilliant. I’d love for the band to bring it back on tour.

“Body and soul come together.”

"AIR OF DECEMBER" EDIE BRICKELL & NEW BOHEMIANS (1988)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

Shooting Rubberbands At The Stars is another example of an album that started with an unflinching fascination with a single song (“What I Am”) and grew to a fondness for the entire record. Words that come to mind when I think of it: earnest, whimsical, innocent. Given these descriptions, there really wasn’t much out there with a similar demeanor. Songs like “Air Of December” did more to achieve this than even the hit single “What I Am”.

On “Air Of December”, Edie seems sultry and playful in her delivery as she conveys the effect of the protagonist on her. And the bass line feeds off it, flirting with the lower octaves. It’s the change-up in the album’s first half, opting for a slow, prodding tempo and melody that lingers like the December air. It’s heard best not in isolation, but right after the funky “What I Am” and jangly “Little Miss S.” Just like a true deep cut.

“The breeze moved the curtains And lifted my perfume into the air.”

"NO WORDS NO MORE" LOVE AND ROCKETS (1989)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

The percussion-cracking “So Alive” descended on just about every radio station in New York City in 1989. I couldn’t get enough of it. So I decided to buy the self-titled album. As fans know, the rest of the album is very different from “So Alive”. Needless to say, it took a while for the record to grow on me. But once it did, I was sold. The album wavers back and forth between a world of motorcycles and a desolate wasteland. Not my cup of tea. But if you’re in the mood, it works wonders with deep cuts like “No Words No More”.

In his hush demeanor, Ash sings of a lazy devil, pools under a blue sky, and people down the street from you and I. For the life of me, I can’t figure out what the song means. But maybe that’s the whole point. There’s no one particular meaning. The song is whatever you make of it. It’s whatever you want it to be. A backdrop for your mind to wander and make something of nothing. And maybe those are the best songs because they invite us to call the shots.

“Even the laziest devil Sits on your youth and you cry. He watches your mistakes. Until the day you die.”

"HISTORY OF US" INDIGO GIRLS (1989)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

The self-titled Indigo Girls album brings me back to my last couple of years of high school. I caught them on the album’s promotion tour at Port Chester’s Capitol Theatre – just my second ever concert at that point. Some of the songs are celebratory, some of them are unmistakably somber, and all of them are deeply reflective. Ray and Saliers were just 25 and 26 respectively when the album was released, but they were wise beyond their years. This gave songs like “History Of Us” a deep sense of perspective and wisdom that you wouldn’t expect from a couple of twenty-somethings.

I think what makes “History Of Us” that much more special is that it wasn’t celebrated like the album’s more well known songs: “Closer To Fine”, “Secure Yourself”, “Kid Fears”, “Love’s Recovery” and “Land Of Canaan”. “History Of Us” is a hidden gem on the record. Quiet, unassuming, not drawing special attention to itself. Written by Saliers, it’s a song that feels like it was written for the listener, about the listener. It leaves a multi-faceted impression in its wake: nostalgia, remorse, sadness, and all of it, absolutely all of it, is just beautiful.

“Stretched our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust. Until time makes history of us.”

"MY FATHER'S HOUSE" BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN (1982)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

One of the most powerful things about being a songwriter is you get to tell your story. They’re not just your words. They’re your memories and experiences. These types of songs always feel much fulfilling because they don’t just rely on technical skill and expertise. They come from the heart. Springsteen has written about his relationships, his home, his life. And here in “My Father’s House”, he writes about his dad.

The stark simplicity of “My Father’s House” is reflective of the minimalist production approach on Nebraska. It’s just Springsteen singing, playing harmonica and strumming his guitar. There’s an air of Johnny Cash happening here, but these lyrics are Springsteen’s story of his strained relationship with his dad. It’s pure Springsteen through and through – proving that the most profound aspect of his musicality is the ability to tell a gripping, personal story.

“Last night I dreamed that I was a child out where the pines grow wild and tall. I was trying to make it home through the forest before the darkness falls.”