#90: Goldfrapp / “Pilots”

- Writer(s): Alison Goldfrapp & Will Gregory
- Year: 2000
- Album: Felt Mountain

Kylie v. Alison

What, no Kylie Minogue on this list?!  She lost in a close bout.  “I’ve Got to Be Certain,” had that good ole Stock Aiken Waterman bounce, but as much as I can criticize today’s Mileys or Brittanys for sounding thin, Kylie rivals Stacy Q for the weakest voice of the ‘80s.  Nor does she have that one perfect song to match her peers like Banarama (“I Heard a Rumor”) and Rick Astley (“Together Forever”).

As for the best artist of this past decade – I’d probably go with Goldfrapp.  Alison has a commanding voice (almost too rich for pop), and each song is painstakingly sonic-tuned by Will Gregory to an enveloping brilliance (I can think of no better material to test out a new set of woofers than “Koko” or “Strict Machine").  Yet, they never quite accomplished that perfect hit – one that no radio programmer, no matter how corrupt and jaded he may be, could ignore.

This years invigorating “I Wanna Life” comes close – with its springy, keyboard-laden sitcom theme-like chorus (And thankfully not one of Alison’s goofy stabs at eroticism).  The ‘80s retro-trend is still going strong, but why, once again, has another Goldfrapp album been largely ignored?

Kylie, on the other hand, seems to have garnered unlimited mileage from her 1988 debut.  While Goldfrapp vows to have never been inspired by anything post-1983, it still seems ironic that Kylie appears to now be aping them.

Sure, in the video for “Two Hearts,” Kylie’s writhing around on a piano, like some chanteuse you’d see on Turner Classic Movies, but her strained middle-aged sexuality, along with the glam rock posturing and piano-pounding rhythm from her band, seems very reminiscent of Supernature-era Golfrapp (a la “Ohh La La").

Goldfrapp was ahead of the ‘80s revival-curve, but with this year’s Head First, they’ve grabbed the burning rope of the retro-movement for dear life.  Invoking campy space-aged atmospherics and Olivia Newton-John Xanaduesque fantasies – it’s a last ditch attempt to hijack the ride they helped to initiate.

But now it’s Kylie turn.  In her recent “Better Than Today,” which – with the Pac-man masks, keytars, and pink lasers – she appears to be parodying the entire notion of geek nostalgia.  Kylie going retro may just cause the fabric of space-time to collapse in on itself.



I empathize with those Goldrapp fans who long for the less complicated appeal of their debut album - 2000’s Felt Mountain.  Upon first hearing it, my heart swelled in hope for the new millennium.  While the singles where more subdued, light on the beats, and incorporated more classical instruments, lyrically they peered way into the future – where being “wired to the world” (as Alison coos in “Utopia”) could bring about a perpetual state of obedience and bliss.

But I can't imagine a more aurally scenic and soothing tune than “Pilots.”  Here the airplane is the sensory-depravation chamber.  When Alison thankfully observes “the sound of you and me,” she’s not referring to a human, but rather, the hum of “a friendly machine” – lulled to sleep in the warm womb of mother aircraft.

Thus, when Goldfrapp’s Black Cherry followed three years later, my reaction was bittersweet.  As I respected the whole retro-thing and my head nodded to the beats, I felt the lush balladry deserved further exploration.  It’s a shame that, someone more popular, like Kylie, hasn’t chosen to imitate the cinematic-orchestral sound of Felt Mountain instead.

#91: Celebrate The Nun / “She’s A Secretary”

- Writer(s): H.P. Baxxter & Britte Maxime
- Year: 1988
- Album: Meanwhile

Another song about sex in the office – but as much as H.P. Baxxter tries to mimic Marc Almond’s lecherous tones (Soft Cell’s “Facility Girls” comes to mind), his stern pronunciation causes whole affair to seem awkward and trifling – making the line “She has to seduce him to be preferred,” as least sexy as possible. He then whispers “She’s a secretary” like it’s a threat. And it sounds like he actually refers to her “charming tits” (An unconfirmed Internet source (with a pop-up offering a ring-tone) quotes, “I’m attencious,” which isn’t even a word. So, I’m skeptical.).

He’s rescued with a chorus from his sister Britte Maxime. Sure, being a German, she’s detached too (or is there a hint of sadness?), but the contrasting perspective pushes the theme, and Baxxter’s little spoken-rap session in the bridge adds further variety.

Celebrate The Nun probably aspired to be Germany’s answer to Depeche Mode (with an even more confusing name), but they failed to reach the status of even the Information Society. In hindsight, however, songs like this are glaring markers of 10 years of electronic music evolution.

In 1978, with “The Model,” possibly the first pop tune of the synth era (well, maybe besides Ultravox’s “Quiet Man”), Kraftwerk waxes lyrical of an unattainable media starlet. In 1988, Celebrate The Nun brings the female down to earth and into the workplace.

Musically, the ignition during the first few seconds reminds me of KITT’s dashboard lights flickering while Michael Knight turns the key before speeding off on a car chase. And the dramatic instrumental break: is that a symphonic orchestra? No, it’s a synthesizer substitute by Rick Jordan – elegant yet powerful.

This dream production strikes an improbable balance between the smooth and the hi-NRG – fitting for reclining or dancing. Such music technology was pioneered, engineered, and later perfected by Germans – an era that began with Kraftwerk and apexed here.

#92: Echo & the Bunnymen / "The Killing Moon"

- Writer(s): Will Sergeant, Ian McCulloch, Les Pattinson & Pete de Freitas
- Year: 1984
- Album: Ocean Rain

The 100 Song Project Halloween Special!

Back in the mid-‘90s, when “alternative” music was mainstream, a goofy voiced stoner named Jed The Fish, hosted Out of Order: a syndicated-radio “alternative” version of American Top 40 – songs with layers of screeching guitars and scratchy vocals – a countdown where bands like Veruca Sault and Stabbing Westward could compete for a top spot.

15 Halloweens ago I heard an Out of Order special that focused on several “alternative” horror-themed rock songs.  That was the first time I heard Morrissey’s epic, “November Spawned a Monster.” Back then, I knew little of him and the Smiths, but that 2 minute interlude of creepy woman-child wailing really caught my attention.

And it was also the first time I heard “The Killing Moon.”  Granted, its overall Halloweeness is questionable, as the ill-omened lyrics and the “Time of the Season”-ish thump-de-thump-thump bass much resemble a western murder ballad.  When Ian McCulloch sings ‘It must be the killing time,” it’s as if I could see an extreme cinematic zoom-in on a revolver or a rattle snake.  The intensely plucked strings in the instrumental bridge conjures visions of an OK Corral-type shoot-out.  It’s like a landlocked cousin of the Bunnymen’s nautical “Ocean Rain.”

To me and, perhaps, to Jed the Fish, however, the notion of vampires also comes to mind.  Lyrically, there’s no blatant mention of bloodsucking.  Though, the central line – that commanding chorus, “Fate up against your will… he will wait until you give yourself to him,” (which is repeated ad-nauseum during the latter half of the song), and the mention of a “cruel kiss,” paints a Dracula hypnosis scene.

Back then vampires morphed into rubber bats, made guest appearances on cheap Hanna-Barbera cartoons, and haunted surfing parties with their misfit monster pals.  Perhaps, at the time, the scene pined for sex and danger, and such insinuations are much the appeal of this song.  This was before the Lost Boys and Buffy, and way before Twilight.

This was the Echo & Bunnymen’s best attempt at simultaneous chart-success and goth-cred.  They received a slight resurrection, 20 years later, with a new crowd of semi-fans, thanks to this song being featured in the opening scene of the hip indie-film Donnie Darko, but interest quickly dissipated – the echo faded once again – lost somewhere between alternative and mainstream.

#93: ABC / "Date Stamp"

- Writer(s): Martin Fry, David Palmer, Stephen Singleton & Mark White
- Year: 1982
- Album: The Lexicon of Love

Romance and Capitalism

Last week’s entry regarded love in the dizzy heights of the business world.  This week is about love in the trenches of retail.

Now that we’re in an “economic downturn” (I would say “recession,” but “they” recently declared that thing ended 15 months ago), societal critics are complaining about how the average-joe can’t get a job, can’t pay the mortgage, etc.

Do we long for the ‘80s?  Of course, I miss the culture, but what about the economy?  Sure, most fiscal indicators show that it was a whiz-bang-boom time, but if you watch any of those scholarly shows like VH-1’s “I Love the ‘80s” or “The Best One-Hit-Wonders Countdown” (with great cultural intellectuals like Henry Rollins and The Donnas) and the History Channel’s “America: The Story of Us,” (with accomplished historians like P. Diddy and Martha Stewart) – you’ll always get that line - “The ‘80s was a decade of excess and greed” – summing up ten years of a multi-million person civilization.

Shame for trying to improve your life.  You’re either losing your house or you’re losing your soul.

Thus, as the expert host of this pop music countdown, it would be easy for me to take the hundreds of retail metaphors that Martin Fry skillfully drops in this pop song and conjecture that it exemplifies the decade’s shallow credit card consumer culture.  Really, though, it’s just about love – love as a redeveloped and repackaged product, without a lifetime guarantee.

Four years later, David Byrne would match advertising slogans (“You get two for one, for a limited time”) for a similar “Love for Sale” theme, but much less cleverly.

“Date Stamp” begins with a solo of three humble guitar chords, strummed four times, only backed by an atmospheric synth, that swells, and then the first explosion: iconic cash register sound effects paired with a commanding bass-line.  Then the 2nd eruption: Fry’s charismatic voice with a catchy disco beat.

I make the sex.

Like other great songs by Stars, The Human League, and the Pet Shop Boys, “Date Stamp” demonstrates the appeal of sparring male and female vocals, and it’s a blast to hear Fry emote in an inclining pitch:

That heart`s on display, yes, that heart`s off the rails

A ship in the harbor with wind in its sails

Chain up love inside the chain-store girl

Chain up love and exchange it

Then Tessa Webb replies:
Is Monsieur a connoisseur or just short-changed?
Off the rack or custom-fit it all seems the same

Fry:

Look but don’t touch in paradise

Don’t let them catch you damaging the merchandise

I once read a posted comment on YouTube: “The ‘80s wasn’t a decade.  It was a party.”  Jam-packed with fun songs like this, that seems to be the most adept description.

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Several years ago, the magazine Lexicon (the best (now defunct) source for ‘80s music news), polled its readers, asking their favorite album from the decade.  ABC’s The Lexicon of Love was #1 - maybe predictable, given the magazine’s name, but it was quite a blow-out, receiving 40% more votes than #2 Duran Duran’s Rio.

This was the Top-20:

1. ABC / Lexicon of Love
2. Duran Duran / Rio
3. Depeche Mode / Black Celebration
4. Yazoo (Yaz) / Upstairs At Eric's
5. Kate Bush / Hounds of Love
6. Human Legaue/ Dare
7. Tears for Fears / Songs From the Big Chair
8. Depeche Mode / Music for the Masses
9. Tears for Fears / The Hurting
10. Frankie Goes to Hollywood / Welcome to the Pleasuredome
11. Pet Shop Boys / Actually
12. Thompson Twins / Quick Step and Sidekick (Sidekicks)
13. Propaganda / Secret Wish
14. Bronski Beat / Age of Conent
15. Talking Heads / Remain In Light
16. ABC / Beauty Stab
17. U2 / War
18. New Order / Power, Corruption & Lies
19. Prince and the Revolution / Purple Rain
20. Blue Nile / Walk Across the Rooftops
No Erasure?

Anyway, Guy, some '80s bands took that party vibe too far.  In three years, ABC went from the highs of Lexicon of Love to this:

So, comparatively, the Talking Heads deserve a bit more credit.

#94: Stars / "Elevator Love Letter"

- Writer(s): Torquil Campbell, Amy Millan, Evan Cranley, Chris - Seligman & Pat McGee
- Year: 2003
- Album: Heart

Guy’s still on vacation.  Last week he was at the Penny Arcade Expo.  No telling what nerdy convention he’s at this week (I hope it’s not furry-related).

Anyway, I’ll have to do this week’s entry.  A shame because, being the typical scenster, he likes Stars (despite their bland name).  I don’t know much about them or this song, but I’ll try a dissection.  After all, I made an "A" in my high school Biology class.

The first vocalist, a female (probably another one of Guy’s pathetic crushes), has a spongy, slightly aloof voice, and she really has her way with the word “elevator”.  Fittingly, her “hard rich girl,” protagonist has failed to hide her soft, inner need for affection.

2nd Verse:  Seeing an opportunity, her randy subordinate secretly confesses that he’s going to lie his way into her office and into her bed, all while mixing-up the melody!


Then, she begs for him to “spend a lazy Sunday” in her arms.  But no luck.  He’s a prick.  No telling if the dalliance and ensuing heart-breaking will later endanger his move up the metaphorical corporate elevator.

Ironically it’s a pleasing tune with churning guitars.  Her needy pleas at the end sound almost blissful.

Oh, the futility of love in the workplace…

I deserve an “A” for effort.  Let’s move on to the next song.

#95: The Mission / "Tower of Strength"

- Writer(s): Craig Adams, Mick Brown, Simon Hinkler, & Wayne Hussey
- Year: 1988
- Album: Children

I almost have enough money for a good guitar, but I’m not going to bother with the lessons.  I found the tabs for some songs that should be easy to learn.  Actually, some of the best songs are quite simple.  It’s not what you play, but how you play it.

Like “Tower of Strength,” I will strum out E, C#, D, F, D over and over, for 8 minutes (I’m told, this is the longest song in our countdown), but the results will be anything but redundant.  My mantra will entrance audiences, as the intensity builds and builds, until they are shaken with a fierce eruption!

Imagine thousands of dwarves.  Like worker ants, they repeatedly heave stones and pound with hammers – all the while becoming progressively mesmerized with their work.  Brick by brick, the monolith grows, until the climactic placing of the capstone upon the summit in the heavens – a Tower of Power which no army nor earthquake can strike down!

Wayne Hussey is like a male version of Geddy Lee.  His voice may quiver at first, as he’s unsure of his footing, but as the verses progress, his confidence grows, and his masculine croon grows in strength and intensity!

And check out this badass video (albeit of the edited single version).  As valiant missionary of the Wild West, he rides into the city’s corporate district upon a mighty white steed, leading his team of ghostbusters to vanquish the evil samurai birdmen with lethal proton beams!

#96: Philip Oakey & Giorgio Moroder / "Together In Electric Dreams"

Writer(s):  Phllip Okey & Giorgio Moroder

Year: 1984

Album: Electric Dreams (Soundtrack)

The Great San Francisco Hysteria of 1984

Some people have called me a music snob, and sometimes, even they don’t really know anything about my life or my personal beliefs, they’ll even smack me with more loaded labels like “music fascist.”

Music is like religion.  It’s a wonderful thing if you choose it for yourself, but terrible if you impose it upon someone else.  This is why I believe in the First Amendment, because if the Jimmy Buffett Majority had its way “Margaritaville” would be the national anthem, and A Pirate Looks at Fifty would be required reading in all public schools.  I shudder at the thought.

To be fair, there are historical contradictions that lead me to question to my principle of free will, like the occurrence in San Francisco on July 20, 1984.

It was the middle of the Regan era, when all things were electronically possible – when a computer could make you a cup of coffee and operate your electric toothbrush.  An artificial intelligence, known as Edgar, hacked into the international power grid and sent 40,000 volts through the telephone line. The result: even though, when the electrical surge reached its modem, the PC that housed Edgar was completely obliterated, the program was able to gain control of all radio stations in the Bay Area – forcing a single, multi-frequency transmission so powerful, the radio waves were instantly converted into electricity within each audio device – effectively, turning all of them on at maximum volume.

Now imagine: you’re sitting in your 8^th grade pre-algebra class – incredibly bored – when your teacher is interrupted by the sound of percolating syntronic notes, magically blaring through the intercom.  Or, you’re at the electronics department at a large retail store and you hear a digital voice say, “This is dedicated to the ones I love,” not only over the PA, but from all of the in-store stereo speakers as well.  Or, you’re in an aerobics class, and your standard Olivia Newton John dreck from a portable tape-player is overpowered by a new, bouncier tune with Phillip Oakley singing, assuring, “We’ll always be together.”

Phillip Oakey is not a great singer, but his voice is clear and efficient – suitable to declare this message of communal harmony.  Granted, the eternal togetherness only lasted for 3 minutes and 51 seconds, but for that fleeting moment, all 3 million plus persons located within the broadcasting range, sunbathers, roller-skaters, tugboaters, were all roused into a mass hysteria and spontaneously danced together – unified through the power of this song.

Oakey is better known as the front man of the Human League.  Obviously, given their name, the group embodied his collectivist ideals.  Utilizing synthesizer technology, the Human League believed in the constructive power of electronic music.

The Edgar Experiment was an Oakley’s side collaboration with the euro-disco producer Giorgio Moroder.  Moroder was an enigma.  Whether this genius was raised in Italy or immigrated to this world from some distant planet, like this biography suggests, is still a mystery.  Though on that day, given all of the massive amounts of simultaneous, impromptu dancing, the hypothesis was proven.  His superior music technology worked.

Sadly, despite Oakey & Moroder’s strong advocacy, the Edgar Theory was largely ignored by scientists, and its methods were never implemented.

A quarter century later, Phillip Oakey’s optimism has apparently soured.  In 2009, with the Pet Shop Boys, he recorded a cynical piece of pop, entitled “This Used to Be the Future.”

“I can remember Utopian thinking,” laments PSB’s Chris Lowe.  “Living in peace and freedom from fear / Science that promised to make us a new world / Religion and prejudice disappear.”

“The future was exciting,” replies Oakey.  “Science fiction made fact / Now all we have to look forward to / Is a sort of suicide pact.”

Has he given up?

Now is not the time to lose hope.  The world is filled with hate, despair, and social unrest.  The Edgar Experiment proved that there is a solution.

Phillip, with your positive, persuasive, unifying voice, and Giorgio, with your interstellar, mind-control technology – the Earth needs the both of you lead a new music crusade.  The dream is still alive.

Maybe I am a fascist.

#97: Helium / "XXX"

Writer(s): Mary Timony
Year: 1994

Album: Pirate Prude (EP)

There are a lot of great bands who will not make our Top-100 list.  Helium??  Guy, this is your fault for ranking it so high.  I don’t know what you were thinking.

Even Bevis & Butthead thought it was crap.  When watching the video, during Mary Timony’s “solo,” they thought her guitar was broken.  You would probably call it artistically minimal or improvisational.  I would say it’s more of unskilled ad-libbing, or, perhaps, just lethargy.  In fact, this song reeks of that ‘90s Generation X, burn-out vibe.  Just take the tedious pre-chorus, hashing out the same guitar chords over and over.  Her voice sounds like, on that morning in the studio, she was too hung-over to give much of an effort. And the lyrics: I’m reminded of that alternative/slacker icon, Beck: who mumbled that trite line, “I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?”  Why the talk of murder?  Likewise, Timony’s “That was just a joke about the money / You’re gonna to pay me with your life.”  It’s that old robber’s cliché, “You’re money or your life.”  Perhaps, she couldn’t come up with anything better.  Try something that makes sense or, at least, rhymes.  Indolence 101.

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Even apathy can be appealing, but bands like Helium loathed pretensions.  They made music their way, without fussy pop conventions.  Many guitarists use the solo-break to show off.  Timony used that 20 seconds to instrumentally personify her frustrations.  This song took me several listens.  The feedback that builds and swells into guitar blasts – the irked Timony slurring at end of phrases like, “You’re a drag…  Collect me like rubies… You’re so dirty,” not only typifies ‘90s underground rock, it really stuck to my head.

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So, it’s those huskily muttered semi-innuendos: “Like a fallen Maraschino cherry / I know you're scared to eat me” and “You got a candy red sports car” (I haven’t heard that one since Prince).  Do they turn you on?  I know you can be prudish (and you’re probably still a virgin), but if it’s eroticism you want, there are plenty of real women who do it better – like Samantha Fox.

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Predictably, Rad (if that’s even your real name) your interpretation fell into the gutter. Surely, with a title like “XXX” you were probably hoping for an aural nudie show.  On this EP, however, it accompanies another song, “OOO,” suggesting the content is more akin to adolescent letter writing.  Actually, it’s somewhat a confession.  Timony knows she’s leading some guy on.  He wants to possess and brag about her, which peeves her a bit.  Yet, ultimately he’s the one being used for his "money" (and his "life"?).

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Yeah, yeah, it’s indie-geeks like you who are being used.  You pine for a pretty little alt. chick who shares your love for obscurity and hate for conformity.  You’re titillated by the childishness that she flaunts.  She likes fairy tales and cuddly animals.  Many of her song lyrics are nonsensical, probably inspired by whatever random wildlife photo from Zoobooks she recently cut out and pinned to her bedroom wall.  I can see how a mopey dude like you needs an eccentric freespirit to melt your cold, cynical heart, and exhume your childhood fascinations with nature and fantasy.  Starry-eyed, at the hipster-dive, you can watch her take the stage and tonelessly moan into the mike.  At best, she’s being a tease, at worst, she’s mentally unstable.

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I think this song is a defiance of female stereotypes, like all the assumptions you’ve so clearly spelled (or spilled) out.  Not all art is autobiographical.  So, drop your decade bias, and, to quote your '80s hero, George Michael, “Listen without prejudice.”

And it’s a good video – appropriately splashed with red.  It’s fun to watch Timony demolish an overhead projector.  We all hated those things in school.  It kind of reminds me of the fax machine smash-up in Office Space, which was written/directed by Mike Judge, the same guy who did Bevis & Butthead.  See, it’s come full circle.

I couldn’t find the B&B version of “XXX,” but here’s them commenting on another Helium vid.

#98: Joe Hisaishi / "See You Again"

Writer(s): Joe Hisaishi
Year: 1987
Album: Robot Carnival Original Soundtrack

Instrumentals on the 8s:  Much like that smooth guitar-jazz on the Weather Channel, which always comes “on the 8s,” all of the non-lyrical songs on this countdown coincidentally fell on rankings ending in an 8.

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Possibly because its nine animated shorts are mostly dialogue-less, the 1987 film Robot Carnival pushed its music to the forefront of the sound-mix.  Thus, it is sometimes referred to as “Japan’s Fantasia.”


Disney’s animation, however, was purposefully matched to history’s most popular classical orchestral pieces.  Robot Carnival’s synthesizer-based soundtrack was composed as post-production sustenance.


Thus, most of these tunes sound like efficient, Jean Michel Jarre-type compositions, alternating between catchy and ambient.  The closing tune, modestly titled “See You Again,” must have consumed a large portion of film’s the sound budget as it actually features a string ensemble.


The violins begin by spinning out an elegant melody, somewhat resembling “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”  I doubt if this was blatant plagiarism, as there are only 12 notes in this world and 13 million popular Christmas tunes, so the odds are you’re going to end up sounding like one of them.


Then there’s a slightly dissonant counter melody, sounding like the plucking of broken musical box – a fitting symbol since, ironically, Robot Carnival features the imagery of the distant past just as much as the future.  Many of the robots of in the film seem to be of the antique windup variety.  The fanfare automatons featured in the Opening sequence appear to be without microchips.  The rocket-launching band is an extension of the mechanical juggernaut that mindlessly keeps plowing forward – coming to demolish a town near you, and the spinning, floating ballerinas are decorative grenades.


The androids of the Franken’s Gears and Presence segments seem more sentient, but their creators are lone tinkers – resembling Edwardian watchmakers.  The metallic trickster of Nightmare is accentuated by oversized nuts and bolts.  The two battling giants of A Tale of Two Robots are archaically constructed with wood and run on steam. 


Like Presence’s spritey robot girl, “See You Again” pleasantly sparkles, yet there is something twisted behind the shell.  The gears are not clicking inline.  As the chorus beautifully swells, a brief waltz macabre – a moment of bliss before the bomb goes off – beauty and tragedy intertwined – Danny Elfman could not have done better.


The track’s latter half is an almost identical rehash.  There are some twinkling bells at the bridge, simulating the feeling of falling, but then the entire melody starts up again.  As pretty as it may be, it grows more tiresome the second time (Otherwise, it may have been ranked much higher).


At the end, the music box winds down – a few sputters before shutting off.

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This largely forgotten film (from an era when Japanimation was cool) has still yet to see a domestic DVD release.  Though the Streamline Pictures VHS version from the early-‘90s is a superb dub, it’s foolishly missing a few key images from the ending, which depict the carnival’s earlier (and less destructive) tours, entertaining European socialites.






When creating this list, we were under the impression that Isaku Fujita composed the soundtrack to this film.  Further research, however, reveals that Fujita only contributed the music to the Cloud segment.  The rest, including “See You Again,” was written by, none other than, Joe Hisashi, who scored most of the Studio Ghibli films and is one of the greatest music composers of the 20th Century.

#99: Rush / "Subdivisions"

Writer(s): Alex Lifeson, Geddy Lee & Neil Peart

Year: 1982

Album: Signals

Escape the Mass Production Zone

My Dad’s disappointed with me. In a recent conversation with my mother, he described me as “lost potential.” I’m feeling pretty low. Is there a way out?

I spend long hours in my bedroom, and I listen to some Rush. It’s almost if Geddy Lee wrote the song "Subdivisions" with me in mind.

Opinions all provided,

The future pre-decided,

Detached and subdivided…

Nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone…

In the high school halls, in the shopping malls, conform or be cast out.

In the basement bars, in the backs of cars, be cool or be cast out.

Everyone’s pressuring me to be just like them! I’ve never had sex in a car with a girl, but, if I ever have the chance, Geddy’s telling me it’s okay to say no!

Granny and Me

One of my Grandmothers is dead. The other is senile. I wish Geddy and I could have lived together in an idyllic Hobbit village. I picture her as a surrogate – a wise old lady, possibly with an omniscient psychic vision, to interpret and chronicle my life.

Geddy understands how hard it is to be a middle-to-upper class suburbanite. Her voice is the balm to, as she so astutely puts it, “Sooth the restless dreams of youth!”

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Probably my favorite Rush song - mostly due to those Genesisish power-keyboard chords.