To my ear, “I Knew You Were Waiting” is a worthy, if maybe not outstanding, pop/R&B duet. When it hit the top, I was pleased that Aretha Franklin had achieved another #1 song. I’m happy with Tom’s 7.
 
And, George Michael, to his great credit, did not try to outsing Aretha. What a fool’s errand that would’ve been…

Having said all that, I mostly want to say “Don’t Dream It’s Over” is a 10.

I found Joshua Tree on tape in a thrift store when I was ten. The town I lived in didn’t have rock radio so I had no idea anyone else had ever heard it. I performed with or without you at a talent show when I was 11 and regrettably I said “here is a song that I wrote. “Lol. Most people thought I was kidding and others taught me a lesson in lying and trying to steal.

You know, it is easy to be cynical and high horsey about this, but let’s take a step back and appreciate how bold it is for Timberlake to make such vapid apologies only after the quality of his character was revealed in highly watched series, and after he was ridiculed online for it, and after over a decade in which he had no shortage of time or opportunity to do so. This is accountability, folks. This is progress.

A Heart Shaped TNOCS Mix

Last month I heard the last mix that DJ and mixer Jim Burgess did at the legendary New York Disco, The Saint. The Saint, built in the location of the old Fillmore East live music venue, featured a 5,000 square foot circular dance floor and a planetarium dome with a dazzling light show. It ran from 1980 to 1988, catering to a mainly white, well-off clientele. In its early years you could find 2,500 people sweating their asses off on the dancefloor to the uniquely sequenced music. Those nights would extend well into the next day.

The start of the night featured Classical music. That is not a typo, from club opening at 11:00 P.M. to midnight they would play Classical music, light synth music, or ballads to warm up the system. Then at midnight, the club music would start, gradually building to the Hi-Energy sound the club was known for. At 6:00 A.M. the music would stop, and the DJ would get a standing ovation. During the “Morning Music” set, more easy, lyrical dance music would be played, bringing the dancers down from their music and stimulant induced highs.

The final segment of the night, well the next day in essence, was the “Sleaze” segment. Named after sleazy songs like the truly sleazy “Walk the Night” by The Skatt Bros., the “Sleaze” segment often showcased romantic, sometimes joyful slower R&B music which were anything but sleazy. It wasn’t uncommon for dancers to stay ‘til almost noon, then head home.

This has nothing to do with today’s song, except one thing, I made a Valentines “Sleaze” mix.

https://www.mixcloud.com/BixMeister/a-heart-shaped-tnocs-mix/

Free – Deniece Williams
Son of a Preacher Man – Dusty Springfield
Rockin’ Chair -Gwen McCrae
Be Thankful For What You’ve Got – William DeVaughn
Oh Honey – The Delegation
Supernatural Thing – Ben E. King
Don’t Look Any Further – Dennis Edwards featuring Siedah Garrett
Georgy Porgy (Disco Version) – Toto
I Keep Forgettin’ – Michael McDonald
Lovely Day – Bill Withers
Outstanding – The Gap Band
Who Do You Love – Bernard Wright
It’s Ecstasy When You Lay Down Next to Me – Barry White
For the Love of You – The Isley Brothers
Could It Be I’m Falling in Love – The Spinners
Wishing Well – Terrence Trent D’Arby
Rock Your Baby – George McCrae
When Your Heart is Weak – Cock Robin
Hang on to Your Love – Sade

There might be a Saint story in the future, it’s a story that deserves to be told. Meanwhile, get your Valentine on, it’s anything but sleazy.

U2’s Eno-assisted Americana arc is one of the most exciting in rock history, from 1984 to 1995, from The Unforgettable Fire to the post-script of “Elvis Ate America.” It’s a journey where U2 goes from Simple Minds (1984’s “Elvis Presley and America”) to Tom Waits, with some lacerating guitar and Bjork-like techno in between.

White America in 1987 was ripe for charismatic foreigners to poetically paint us pictures of ourselves, remind us we could be our better angels, humanists, help us process regret. Taking post-punk from late-Eighties malaise into the stratosphere, U2 pumped it full of anthemic gestures toward a greater state of being. U2 gave us empathy, through imagery, in a way USA for Africa never could.

As showcased by the passionately chiming synth-build “With Or Without You,” U2’s Americana arc (leapfrogging a big trip to Berlin) is full of incredible songs that don’t focus on the hypocritical deficiencies of a place once called a shining city on a hill (a rather U2-esque phrase). U2 in 1995—at the tail end of a world-conquering run that really first came to the wider public’s attention with “With Or Without You”—was putting out material that stands with its very best.

Everything you want in a U2 ballad can be found in “Your Blue Room”—gorgeous lilting organ, evocatively elusive lyrics, the distinctive brushed drums, heavy twanging bass, ghostly chorus that the band perfected in the Zoo TV era. “Time is a string of pearls,” Bono intones, and it’s a moment that can hit your heart.

https://youtu.be/MuyAPwAg0oU

Earlier that year came top-10 Nineties rock masterwork “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me.” Hooks for days and breathy glam for the ages: there’s no excuse for brilliance like this to be off corporate rock radio—unless U2, in the irony they’d mined by ’95, maybe dug a little deeper than America was comfortable with.

https://youtu.be/e7N8J6rTZrA

Barnable’s Most 80-est Number One Songs of the ‘80s.

Not the brightest. Not the best. But the most-iconic examples of 80s sound, culture, and themes. Songs people immediately identify with the 80s and, perhaps, would never have been hits in any other decade.

One of the few songs from the 80s I distinctly remember hearing for the first time.

1. “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” Simple Minds
2. “Don’t You Want Me” The Human League
3. “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” Tears for Fears
4. “Take on Me” A-ha
5. “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” Eurythmics
6. “Total Eclipse of the Heart” Bonnie Tyler
7. “Karma Chameleon” Culture Club
8. “Come on Eileen” Dexys Midnight Runners
9. “Down Under” Men At Work
10. “Time after Time” Cyndi Lauper
11. “Beat It” Michael Jackson
12. “When Doves Cry” Prince
13. “Careless Whisper” George Michael/Wham!
14. “The Reflex” Duran Duran
15. “Maneater” Hall and Oates
16. “Like a Virgin” Madonna
17. “With or Without You” U2
18. TBA
19. TBA
20. “Walk Like an Egyptian” The Bangles

I have a brother that is five years older than me. We’ve always been like oil and water. He likes chocolate, so I had to like vanilla. He played baseball and football. I refused to follow along and played tennis and swam. He liked album rock—Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, The Kinks, etc. I liked 80s synth-pop and The Police, Tears For Fears, even Men Without Hats. Just to be different.

One day, my brother grabbed me and insisted I watch something on TV. MTV was highlighting a newly released video. “You have got to hear this,” my brother exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve never heard anything like it.” And he was right. It was dark. It was haunting. It was sparse. It was rich. It ebbed. It flowed. It built, and then it burst and crashed into a crescendo of vocal release. It was “With or Without You.” It was something we both agreed was amazing.

I had never heard of the “infinity guitar” until yesterday. And maybe that’s what makes this song so unique—those long, eerie sustained guitar notes. But I still find something unusual in the song’s power and emotion. So much like U2’s previous musical output, but so much different. There was something here that was confident and assured. It sounded exactly like a band willing and able to fill the void left by The Police and Duran Duran to become the biggest band in the world.

And that’s why WOWY, a song that didn’t really sound like the 80s, makes it onto Barnable’s list of the 80est Number One Songs of the 80s. The song catapulted a here-to-now esoteric, “college” band called U2 into the stratosphere. A location from where they still manage to operate today.

So, TNOCS, we’re nearing the end of our list. Only two to go. One more from 1987, and a lone entry from 1988. Then we’ll have to find something else to do to chase the blues away.

We’re entering our third day of rolling blackouts, sporadic water pressure, and no internet. It’s not so much the few inches of snow here — the Texas power grid (yes, Texas has its own, separate power grid, just because) and other systems simply couldn’t handle the impact of record cold temperatures over a multi-day period.

All-in-all, it still hasn’t been enough to make me pine for the swelter of a San Antonio summer!

A number of virtual years ago, here in the TNOCS, I identified my favorite #1 song of each decade. “With Or Without You” was my choice for the 80s. Nothing has changed. No hit song, in my adult life, has meant more to me than this one. It even provided the soundtrack, wholly unexpectedly, to my proposal to Mrs. Carto.

I had the proposal planned out. It was going to be during dinner at our favorite restaurant, with some of our closest friends. Reservations and invites were made.

Two evenings before the proposal dinner, however, I found myself at her apartment, with the late-breaking news that I was being transferred halfway across the country.

That afternoon, my office in San Antonio had announced it was closing. I was being transferred to a DC-area office.

Her reaction was, understandably, one of confusion and concern. Her career (and family) was in San Antonio.

What did this mean for us, for our life together?

Just as our emotions were reaching a crescendo, “With Or Without You” came on the radio. Having been overcome by the moment, and feeling that this was some sort of providential sign, I fell to one knee and proposed. Unplanned, in her living room, without the ring.

She said yes. We still held the ‘proposal dinner’ with our friends two evenings later. It had instead become a celebration of our engagement.

A song I was waiting for in 1987 (without knowing it at the time). Along with “Open Your Heart” and an upcoming number one, “I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me)” nails pop euphoria better than anything else that year at the top of the charts. It’s the weight of the bass that really sells it, but at the same time it just isn’t the same song without the neutron-star charisma of Aretha Franklin and George Michael.

A good friend of mine, youngish and seemingly completely healthy, died suddenly yesterday—a friend from work who believed in me more than anyone else there, someone who really helped me out. Brand-new grandfather. It’s the whole-cartwheel-through-emotions thing when you get the news, where you feel strangely energized, determined to do normal things but in a slightly manic way. And then you just have to dive into the idea of death. (Not to be a downer.)

Listening to today’s song for the first time in awhile, it struck me, curiously, almost as a hymn. It’s the mountains-and-valley imagery, notions of belief, keeping faith, things preordained, the spirit-of-wisdom chemistry that takes the place of true romantic connection (and that’s fine) between our vocalists. Why must a hymn be ponderous? Why not give it an indelible beat, a succinct and sweetly floating bridge? “I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me)” is a song of connection and love, generations and cultures coming together, the perfect song for Valentine’s Day.

My friend who died believed in God; he knew He was waiting. Even if I’m not very religious, I take comfort in that.

I’ll preface my comments with a quick story. I’ve been a huge U2 fan since I got The Joshua Tree. Until the 30th anniversary tour of The Joshua Tree I had never seen them live. The closest I did before then was in 2011 when one of my all time favorite swim families (I still miss them so much!) offered my two free tickets to see U2 in Toronto. I was so excited to go. Unfortunately, years of neglecting my health (blood pressure, poor eating habits, no exercise) caught up with me.

About a month before the show I went into the hospital with congestive heart failure. I was in the hospital for about 10 days while they drained 50 pounds of fluid out of me! I’m doing great now, got my BP under control, love to workout out everyday, my heart function is pretty close to normal. In some weird way it was the best thing to happen to me. Back to the story, the week before the show I went to see my doctor and asked him if I could go. I knew the answer was gonna be no so I made a vow then and there that the next time U2 came anywhere close to Cleveland, come hell or high water I was gonna be there!

Flash forward to 2017 and they played Browns stadium. I snapped up four of the best tickets I could afford and went with three other very close friends. As corny as it sounds it was one of the most amazing nights of my life! It truly felt like a spiritual moment. We meet so many other people we all knew that day, partying before the show, I will always remember it as one of the best days of my life.

I’m not going to hide the fact that I’m a huge U2 fan and it’s gonna be near impossible to be objective about their two number ones. Moody, atmospheric, and understated, this was an interesting choice to be the lead single. It didn’t sound like anything on pop radio at the time in a good way. The intro is instantly recognizable and sets the stage for the slow burn build to the cathartic final.

The synth line perfectly compliments Edge’s eerie guitar. I love how Bono starts in a low register and builds to a falsetto, pushing the band and song to a higher level. His vocal performance here is honest, raw, and passionate. The drums get heavier as Edge’s famous Infinite Guitar chimes in with a simple but memorable riff. The bass line builds in intensity, keeping pace with the drums. Maybe the best part of the whole song is the tastefully restrained guitar on the outro. A master class in how to build a song, from soft to loud, to build and release tension. 10.

This is music for people who like disco better than funk. Sorry it hurt your feelings. Haha.

Gotta give this guy credit. Right out the gate, he was a master of making it seem like a lot is going around the music, beyond the music itself. He gets that it’s about cult of personality. The European magazine sheen visuals, pseudo profound lyrics, the artificial product scarcity, stingy media availability. He built this facade people have run with and elevated. Somewhere behind it all there is the music. Rarely transcendent, sometimes interesting, but often shapeless and dull. But it does enough to sustain the personality. Someone like Marc Rebellet could probably write his whole catalog in one long jam session. But then it doesn’t matter, because they’re just not Frank.

You do know you can still get others sick if you are vaccinated? Guess you’ll have to stay inside forever

Terrible album.

This is what the hipsters on Pitchfork call Hip Hop.

I had a massive stroke at a young age and I learned to walk again while listening to the intro of Where the Streets Have No Name. Stumbling while the organ played, shuffling mightily while the guitars came in. Gets me emotional to this day.