Git Down, Eeyore, Get Funky

172. SMITHS, "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now"
Produced by John Porter; written by Johnny Marr & Morrissey
Rough Trade 156 1984 Did not make pop charts

Not my favorite Smiths single, but almost certainly their epitome (and how cool is it, by the way, to come up with the title this early that sums up most of your work). The singly named Morrissey bitches and moans as Johnny Marr--whose very name echoes a phrase of French derision--jangles along in the background. Twelve years later, the Cardigans would actually chart with an almost direct instrumental ripoff of this single on "Lovefool," but the genius here, of course, is that that bouncy music is under these misanthropic words.

If the increasing trend toward self-conscious "loser" singles during the 1980s and 1990s allowed slackers to indulge and feel superior at one and the same time, Brit pop like this allowed alienated would-be intellectuals on both sides of the Atlantic to do the same thing: yes that's exactly how it is--but I'm not that whiny, just clever.

Moreover, "Caligula would have blushed" as a throwaway is genius, particularly the way Morrissey's voice goes all trilly and such when he sings it.

Instruments of Seduction

335. KOOL & THE GANG, "Misled"
Produced by Jim Bonnefond and Kool & the Gang; written by Kool & the Gang
DeLite 880431 1984 Billboard: # 10

For me, this is one of those singles that slipped through the cracks. You won't find it on virtually any early 80s compilation, and I freely admit that there are so many reasons to disregard it: by this point, Kool & the Gang was past its prime; the instruments here sound more pre-programmed than on their 1970s classics; it's neither a dance song nor a rocker; when they laid down this track, the couplet She's as heavy/As a Chevy was at least a quarter of a century past its shelflife . . .

But sometimes it's just a groove, in this case the dialogue between the bass and the rhythm guitar line. Yeah, I know it's far from spontaneous and way overproduced. Yet it seduces me enough, leads me on, that every time I hear the song I keep listening, even though I find the narrative depicted in the lyrics too preposterous for a silent film starring Theda Bara. This is another one of those songs where the words ultimately don't matter. No, I simply want to live where the power chords meet the funk and never die into the fadeout, where vocalist J. T. Taylor is so ensorcelled by their fused sound that he just shrugs his vocals from the resistant verses into the hypnotically enlivened choruses. When genius seduces you, it's no marvel, but when mere competence does, it sometimes seems even more like magic.

Plus Kool & the Gang were from Jersey City, birthplace of Flip Wilson, Richard Conte, and Will Durant and rightful hometown of the Statue of Liberty. That's got to count for something.

If Phil Spector Got Funky and/or Drank Banana Daiquiris

624. PRINCE, "Another Lonely Christmas"
Produced and written by Prince & the Revolution
Warner 29121 1984 Billboard: # 5

As you may have guessed by this point, I have a bit of a weakness for Phil Spector records--not Leiber & Stoller records, not Motown records, but Phil Spector records. Yes, they're overblown, even operatic, but that's what I love about them. There are times in your life, especially when you're young, when the emotions just feel so Big that well-analyzed, clear-headed observations just don't cut it. You need to feel as if the Whole World really does depend on a single Kiss.

This Prince record--originally the B-side to "I Would Die 4 U" but eventually a seasonal hit in its own right--feels to me like the record Phil Spector would have made if he had been black (as opposed to just packaging the talent of black artists). It's actually sadder than most Spector records, more like a funk reimagination of "Last Kiss," J. Frank Wilson's classic tearjerker from over two decades earlier. But all those instruments, that epic feeling . . .

And then there are the banana daiquiris. Do you really think that's what he's drinking? That's almost too sensitive to be real. Part of me wonders if this is just a line he uses in Twin City bars around the holidays. Still, he sounds so sad. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.