MTV's Golden Era: From "Video Killed the Radio Star" to "Jeremy"

I am currently reading I Want My MTV: The Uncensored Story of the Music Video Revolution, by Craig Marks and Rob Tannenbaum (pub. date: Oct. 2011). We Gen Xers are, for sure, the book's target audience. If you were between the ages of 10 and 18 when MTV launched in 1981, you will enjoy this book, which covers only what the authors call "MTV's Golden Era": the years 1981 to 1992.

The book's format--an oral history, with quote after interesting quote from musicians, music execs, video directors, VJs, etc.--keeps the book flowing. You get great information without too much dull exposition.

The book begins, well, at the beginning, when MTV was just a gleam in some radio executives' eyes. What's interesting is just how quickly and half-assedly everything was thrown together. They got the okay in January 1981 and were determined to launch on August 1st (when, they figured, kids were home on summer vacation and had nothing better to do than watch videos all day). The founders had seven months to come up with a station name, logo, and catch-phrase; to figure out how to make record companies give them free videos; and to hire all the video disc-jockeys.

The book includes surprising information. For example, I didn't know that Michael Nesmith of the Monkees was one of the main players at the beginning (though he left before MTV even launched due to creative differences with the rest of management). In fact, it turns out that he deserves much of the credit for MTV. In the late 70's, Nesmith developed a show, called PopClips, that played nothing but videos. A pilot was made but it wasn't a success. The concept for MTV was born.

So the origin story is pretty interesting. But the book's strength is the information it shares about all the craziness that occurred behind the scenes of the making of your favorite videos.

"Save a Prayer" video: Nick Rhodes
and John Taylor (on on elephant)

About Duran Duran's "Save a Prayer" video, which was filmed in Sri Lanka, Nick Rhodes says: "John and I were on an elephant, Simon was on one with Andy, and Roger was on one of his own. And they brought a female elephant who let out this enormous noise, which one of the guys in the crew was taping. He thought, Oh, this will be funny, and he played it back through the speakers. Nobody knew that it was her mating call. So the elephant with Roger on its back charges down the swamp and mounts this other elephant. Roger's hanging on for dear life.... If he'd fallen off, he could have been trampled to death. It was funny as hell, but also quite hairy for a moment."

Dr. Magnus Pyke in the "She Blinded
Me With Science" video

This story Thomas Dolby tells about the "Blinded Me With Science" video cracked me up: "My dad, a professor of classical archaeology at Oxford University, was one of the scientists in the video. And we had Dr. Magnus Pyke, a famous British TV personality and bona fide scientist. When I saw him a few years later, he cursed me, because in America, people would walk up behind him in the street and shout, 'Science!' He was a man of accomplishment, and was annoyed by that."

I love that: Sneaking up on a proper Oxford scientist and screaming "SCIENCE!"at him. That's classic America vs. England right there.  

And since this book is about musicians, you'll be happy to know there's plenty of insider info on groupies, drugs, drinking, sex, and inflated egos.

Stevie Nicks in the Arizona desert,
filming the "Hold Me" video

Simon Fields, a video producer, says this about Fleetwood Mac:
"'Hold Me' was a f#*@ing nightmare, a horrendous day in the desert. John McVie was drunk and tried to punch me. Stevie Nicks didn't want to walk on the sand with her platforms. Christine McVie was fed up with all of them. Mick thought she was being a bitch, he wouldn't talk to her. They were a fractious bunch."


And how about this juicy tidbit from Joe Elliott, which will make you want to call up Def Leppard's "Foolin'" on YouTube:

Joe Elliott and his "wedding tackle" in the
"Foolin" video

"...there's a fantastic scene when I'm chained to a pyramid and I break out of the shackles. I sit up and look at the camera and sing, 'Is there anybody out there?' And if you look at the video--which I suggest you do, because it's quite funny--you can see that underneath my white trousers I have on tighty whities. I wasn't wearing them on the first take. [The director] Mallet watched that scene back through the lens and said, 'Dear boy, I can see your wedding tackle. You need to put some underpants on. They'll never show this on the telly if we don't clean it up a bit.'"


So if you watched MTV as much as I did in the 80's, you will definitely get a kick out of this book. I don't know if I'd shell out the $18 Amazon is asking for the hardcover (my copy was a Christmas present--thanks, hon!) but the paperback is coming out in September. It's worth checking out.

Awful Song Lyrics: Duran Duran Edition

The same way awesome lyrics can turn a good song into a great one, awful lyrics can ruin a perfectly decent tune. If I truly adore a song's melody then horrible lyrics won't make me hate it, but I do get mad that the artist has gone ahead and ruined a great song by giving it stupid words.

This poster was on my bedroom wall in 1983.

The exception is Duran Duran. DD songs have some of the most asinine lyrics out there, yet I've never gotten angry about it. The ridiculous words fit somehow when it comes to the pop band whose pictures once covered my bedroom wall.

While in the car earlier today, I flipped the radio station to 95.5 PLJ (which I rarely listen to, but ever since 101.9 RXP went soft-rock, my choices are limited). "New Moon on Monday" by DD was on, and before I knew what was happening, I heard myself bellowing: "I light my torch and wave it for the new moon on Monday/and the fire dance through the night./I stayed the cold day with a lonely satellite."

What the hell? I thought. I mean, really, how meaningless and dumb and awful are those lyrics? And why has my brain continued to devote a whole bunch of cells to remembering them 28 years later?

Here is the video for "New Moon on Monday," from their 1983 album, Seven and the Ragged Tiger (the title of which doesn't make any sense either):

And here are some of the dumbest lyrics ever written for a hit song:

New Moon on Monday

Shake up the picture, the lizard mixture

With your dance on the eventide.

You got me coming up with answers

All of which I deny.

I said it again, but could I please rephrase it?

Maybe I can catch a ride.

I couldn't really put it much plainer

But I'll wait till you decide.

Send me your warning siren

As if I could ever hide.

Last time La Luna

CHORUS:

I light my torch and wave it for the

New moon on Monday

And a fire dance through the night.

I stayed the cold day with a lonely satellite.

Breaking away with the beast of both worlds

A smile that you can't disguise.

Every minute I keep finding

Clues that you leave behind.

Save me from these reminders

As if I'd forget tonight.

This time La Luna

CHORUS

FYI, "Union of the Snake," the first hit song off Seven and the Ragged Tiger also has idiotic lyrics. Pretty much all of Duran Duran's songs are dumb. But they are still awesome.

What I Miss Most About the 1990s Is....

There's an article in tomorrow's (8/7/11) The New York Times Magazine titled, "My So-Called Adulthood" about how Generation X--like every other generation before it--has become nostalgic for all things 1990s (the era of its youth), despite the fact that Gen X was famous for reviling the nostalgia it grew up with: the Baby Boomers fondness for all things 1960s.

Here is the link to the article.

The author Carl Wilson wonders how our generation can proudly embrace retromania when we grew up listening to the Baby Boomers talk about how great the 60s were: how their generation created the best music, ended segregation, were activists, and truly "believed in something, man." Back in the early 90s, didn't we hate the way they always reminisced about the good ol' days, then called us slackers and pointed out that by the time they were our age, they'd already marched on Washington five times and been thrown in jail for protesting something-or-another? They even insisted their drugs were better.

Yay! Beavis and Butthead are
coming back!

And now here we are, 20 years later, in the midst of a 1990s revival. Limp Bizkit, Faith No More, and Third Eye Blind (just to name a few) are touring this summer, plus MTV is bringing back some of its old programming, like "Beavis and Butthead" and "Pop-Up Video." It makes me laugh because we slackers are now the demo with the disposable income. HA! You love us now, don't you?

Mr. Wilson asks the following question in the article: "How does an anti-nostalgic generation deal with the human reflex to sentimentalize its youth?" Of course when I read that sentence, the only thing that popped into my head was, "The reflex...is in charge of finding treasure in the daaaark!"

Right Said Fred: Amusing
yet oh so embarrassing

The answer, according to Mr. Wilson, is mix-tapes. Apparently, some young musicians are creating music called "hypnagogic" or "hauntological" (I swear, I'm not making this up), with melodies that sound like pop songs from previous decades, but recorded to simulate old age by sounding fuzzy or staticky. And many of the artists are recording this music on the practically-extinct cassette tape. (I bet they are really proud of themselves, too).

I have a better idea: How about we Gen Xers join Facebook, post the original videos of all our favorite 80s and 90s songs, share comments about what that song means to each of us, and have fun honestly reminiscing about the good (e.g. Nirvana) and the bad (e.g. Right Said Fred) that our generation had to offer?

Oh, duh.

Old Mommy on the Block

I didn't have my first kid until I was 36-and-a-half, which was just fine by me. I had plenty of time to sow my wild oats in NYC before getting married, having a baby, and moving to the suburbs. While I occasionally miss my old, crazy life, I wouldn't still want to have that life. I've moved on, and that's a good (and healthy) thing.

One odd thing about having kids later in life is that many of my mommy friends--ladies with kids the same age as my own--are much younger than me. Like a decade younger. Manhattan mommies tend to skew older--they delay starting families to further their careers--but it appears that the ones around here had their first child closer to the national average of around 25 years old. At age 25, I was going to Lollapalooza.

When we first moved here a few years ago, it was shocking. I didn't know anyone, I had no friends, and unlike my husband, I wasn't going in to the city every day and getting a nice dose of culture and sophistication. There were awkward moments while getting to know people: We'd be talking about the silly bands we liked as teens, I'd mention being obsessed with Duran Duran, and the response would be something like, "Oh, I loved them, too. I used to sing along to 'Hungry Like the Wolf' when I was five." Conversation OVER.

Things are better now. Pretty much all my friends are younger than me, but mostly by only a few years. I don't think about it too often, now that our conversations tend to be about our current lives rather than our pasts.

Every now and then, however, something happens to make me feel REALLY FREAKIN' OLD. There's this mom I know...we're not friends but we're friendly. I see her around a lot--library story times, the town pool--and she's sweet. Our kids are similar ages so we end up chatting. I never thought about how old she might be.

I saw her at the pool the other day and we got talking about sunblock, how we are super-vigilant about covering up our kids but often neglect ourselves. I told her that I use a daily moisturizer with SPF 15, so even if I forget the rest of me, at least my face has some protection. She laughed and said, "Oh, that's a good idea! I should do that too, or before I know it, I'll look like I'm 40!"

Oh, the idea of looking 40 to her was just ridiculous! Preposterous! Unheard of! Something to joke about, the worst thing she could imagine! I just laughed. I mean, what was I gonna do, say "Um, I'm 41, actually." That would've been uncomfortable and weird for both of us. So instead, I laughed as if I  could relate (Forty?! Eeek, blah, ptooey!), and took solace in the fact that she certainly wouldn't have said that if she thought I could be that old.

But I'm watching her.