#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.

#100: The System / "Don't Disturb This Groove"

Writer(s): David Frank & Mic Murphy
Year: 1987
Album: Don't Disturb This Groove

by Guy

In an episode of the mid-‘80s hit Canadian children’s television program, Today’s Special, elderly 3rd shift security guard Sam Crenshaw was asked by his co-worker, Muffy the Mouse (i.e. television’s all-time sexiest mouse), to describe where he went on a recent vacation.  He exclaimed, "I went to a hotel!"

A few years earlier, Shalamar, the hit music trio, recorded an entire music video at a hotel.  Sure, some of the initial congregating and foreplay took place at the downstairs lounge, but with the second verse, the romantic couplet of Howard Hewett and Jodie Watley soon relocated to a private room, with the on-looking bartender/3rd wheel, Jefferey Daniel, in accompaniment to provide further service/dancing.
All they needed is a side-table, a springy bed, and a few feet of dancing space in a hotel room, and they made it A Night To Remember.

Many view hotels, motels, and inns, as a necessary evil.  Sacrificing a few comforts of home – a place to sleep on your way to a faraway destination.  Sam Crenshaw, Shalamar, and The System, however, saw the hotel as the attraction… as the destination.

The day the earth stands still...

At your attraction, you rise like a bubbling synthesizer intro, right before the first beat kicks in – the Saturday morning sun hitting your face with a beam of warmth – tinkling bells in your head.  You’re in heaven.

You call roomservice for a single-serving box of fruit loops with a carton of milk, and catch a 9:00 AM episode of Alf: the Animated Series on NBC, followed by an episode of Alf Tales, but a bright blue spring sky beckons from between the vertical blinds, and unknown to you at the time, there’s a beautiful girl in the room next door.  She’s rolling in the sheets, but she’s all alone.  It’s a day of with possibilities.  You’re in another world.

"There’s lots you can do a hotel," Sam explained to Muffy...

Yep, she was cuter than Gadget and finer than Pearl Pureheart.

...as he clicked through his vacation slides.  "Here I am at the tennis court working on my serve.  Here I am relaxing by the pool with a fruity drink.  Look, I’m drinking out of a coconut, and there’s a tiny umbrella in it!"

On a mountain by a fountain...

There are six ways to go down the pool’s waterslide (listed from least to most dangerous (i.e. least to most fun)):

1. Feet-first / sitting-up.
2. Feet-first / lying on your back.
3. Feet-first / lying on your belly.
4. Head-first / lying on your belly.
5. Head-first / lying on your back.
6. Back-first / sitting up.

Sure, the instructions detailed on ascending steps warns to only try #1 & #2, but at least, in those lesser-litigious days, there was a water slide and a diving board.

It’s the girl from next door!  The smooth sounds of Double and the Miami Sound Machine are drifting from her portable Panasonic stereo system.

And perhaps, from behind her sunglasses, she’s watching your dives (listed from the least to most splashing):

1. Nail  (arms-at-sides)
2. Flathead Screwdriver  (spinning/arms-outstreched)
3. Cannonball  (fetal)
4. Can-opener  (self-explanatory)

Bright synth-blasts with every impact.

A little taste of sin?

You could risk a belly-flop.  You could risk a #6 on the slide.  You could risk saying something.  But you don’t have to speak, nor does she.  She’s an accessory.

This is not the best day of your life.  This is not a day of extremities.  This is a day of possibilities.

Were those days really that bright?

Was it another world?

Does nostalgia always paint with florescent-hued highlights?

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It was about the year 2000. I was at a party, and Otis, one of my co-DJs at the time, was there.  He approached me and thanked me for almost causing him to have a car wreck.  According to him, the night before, he was driving, listening to my ‘80s radio show, and when this song came on, with that splendid bubbling synthezer into, his euphoria almost ran him into a traffic sign.

Otis told me that, as a child, his family would often hold impromptu after-dinner dances, and “Don’t Disturb This Groove” was a staple.  Over the years, he almost had forgotten entirely about those dance nights, but this tune brought the memories rushing back – almost too quickly.

About The Project

Contributors:

Guy

DJ Rad

Bimmy

Methodology: Contributors’ MP3 players were scanned for matching file names.  In the event that a MP3 player was not available, contributors were asked to submit a list of all songs in their personal music collection.  Songs that were listed on more than 50% of the sampled sources were considered “matches.”  Among the “matches,” without collusion, contributors selected (up to) five songs from each artist.  All other songs were discarded.  Of the “matching” songs that remained, on a confidential form, contributors weighted each song with a score between 0 (disinterest) and 250 (mind-shattering bliss).  The forms were kept under lock and key by an impartial third-party official.  To ensure objectivity, contributors were told to return to their normal lives and sworn not to discuss “Project 100” for 90 days.  Any perceived violation of the gag rule would have result in an immediate dismissal from the Project and their scores to be revoked.  90 days later, contributors were granted another view of the list, and, once again, scored each matching song on the 0-250 scale.  The scores from all lists, new and old, were then compiled, with all songs scoring with a total score below 75 being stricken from the Master List.  To prevent collusion, each contributor was placed in an empty janitor closet, with a copy of the Master List and a flashlight.  They each had 45-minutes or until their batteries ran out (whichever occurred first) to strike 15 songs of which they found offensive to their tastes, and furthermore, select 15 songs, which they deemed immune from being stricken.  These judgments resulted in the Grand Master List, with the remaining songs rearranged alphabetically by artist.  Each contributor was then allowed to review the Grand Master List for a two hour lunch break before returning to the compound to for 6 hours of deliberation.  Then each contributor was then individually sequestered for 36 hours in a private hotel room (with a stack of freshly burned CDs for referential listening) where they made a final weighing of each Grand Master List song on a scale between 1 and 7.  The final scores were tabulated and ranked.  ONLY THE HIGHEST SCORING SONG FROM EACH ARTIST REMAINED ON THE LIST, all others were removed.  The higher the score the higher the ranking (#1 being the “highest”).  This resulted in the Final List with Numbers #11 to #90 being permanently finalized.  Numbers #91-120, however, received another two hours of collaborative deliberation.  Contributors then publicly made a list of the 10 songs, between 91-120, that they disliked the most – with the songs receiving the least mentions being ranked 91-100 according to their previous “final score.”  Songs ranked #1-10 on the Final List were then presented to the contributors individually with a final, blindfolded, listening session, played in CD quality at moderate volume, through high-fidelity headphones, with the #10 ranked song being played first, #9 played second, etc.  After all ten tracks had elapsed, each contributor was immediately lead to a voting machine, where, by secret ballot, they selected the one song they felt was the greatest of all time.  The votes were counted, with the song receiving the most votes being #1 on the Grand Final List, the second most #2, etc.  All ties in the rankings were broken with by referring to the previous ranking on the Final List. 

The List

100: The System / "Don't Disturb This Groove"
99: Rush / "Subdivisions"
98: Joe Hisaishi / "See You Again"
97: Helium / "XXX"
96: Philip Oakey & Giorgio Moroder / "Together In Electric Dreams"
95: The Mission / "Tower of Strength"
94: Stars / "Elevator Love Letter"
93: ABC / "Date Stamp"
92: Echo & the Bunnymen / "The Killing Moon"
91: Celebrate The Nun / "She's A Secretary"
90: Goldfrapp / "Pilots"

Remember folks: Only one song per artist.