"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.”

"SO ALIVE" LOVE AND ROCKETS (1989)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 12

Simple. Repetitive. And addictive. It just worked. It was the summer of 1989 when “So Alive” came strutting on to the airwaves. This radio darling was accessible and infectious, but still a near perfect embodiment of the band’s unique sound and persona born out of mishmash of gothic and motorcycle culture - which stretched across everything from album art to videos. In “So Alive”, Love and Rockets pulled off something rarely achieved in music: they sold out without selling out.

Let’s break it down. Steady, hypnotic snare hits from Kevin Haskins. Keyboard chords that envelope and swarm, nearly choking the listener. Daniel Ash doing his best leather-clad cross between a whisper and a growl. And that soulful trio on backup vocals. It was so effortlessly cool. And, for a high school teenager crazy about music like me, well, that was almost all that mattered.

“Wish I could stop. Switch off the clock. Make it all happen for you.”

"SO ALIVE" LOVE AND ROCKETS (1989)

Simple. Repetitive. And it worked. It was the summer of 1989 when “So Alive” came strutting on to the airwaves. This radio darling was accessible and infectious, but still a near perfect embodiment of the band’s unique sound and persona - which stretched across everything from album art to videos. In “So Alive”, Love and Rockets pulled off something rarely achieved in music: they sold out without selling out.

“Wish I could stop. Switch off the clock. Make it all happen for you.”