Tag Archives: Sexual Healing

Today’s Top 5: January 7, 1983

The first week of January 2018 has been accented by frigid temperatures across much of the nation. In the Delaware Valley, we’ve “enjoyed” highs in the teens, and windchill temps clocking in the single digits. On this day in 1983, however, it felt positively balmy: We hit a high of 55.

I covered this month before via Trouser Press; and the previous month via Record magazine. The most important thing to know: Unemployment topped 10 percent for the fifth month in a row. The Reagan Recession, in other words, was in full swing.

But, as I mentioned in that Record magazine recap, you wouldn’t have known it by me. I was 17, a high-school senior, and concentrating on my studies. And although far from a math wizard, I could count – which explains why I worked inventory at the Abraham & Straus department store at the Willow Grove Park Mall as a temporary employee this month. (In a few years, I’d sign on at the same store as a sales associate.) I also had plenty of Christmas cash courtesy of my great aunts and uncle, and used much of it to expand my cassette collection – a necessity, as I’d received a Sanyo Mini AM/FM Stereo Radio Cassette Recorder for Christmas.

On January 3rd, a Monday, I picked up Neil Young’s Trans and Lou Reed’s The Blue Mask. I already owned Trans on vinyl; as I’ve said elsewhere on this blog, I assumed store-bought cassettes possessed better sound that recorded copies of LPs. (In retrospect, I wish I’d gone the home-taping route and used the extra cash to buy other albums.) The Blue Mask, however, was new to me, and “Waves of Fear” quickly became a favorite track:

Anyway, as my Garfield desk diary reveals, the month’s other purchases included cassettes by Creedence Clearwater Revival, Janis Joplin and Todd Rundgren; and a way-cool three-LP Velvet Underground set. I also received, via the RCA Music Club, five of the six tapes I’d ordered the week after Christmas; as with Trans, I already owned Stevie Nicks’ Bella Donna and Pete Townshend’s All the Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes on vinyl, but Eagles Live, Glenn Frey’s No Fun Aloud and Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk were new to me. 

One album that I inexplicably left off of that end-of-the-month summary – Van Morrison’s Moondance, which came into my life on Friday the 7th. It’s still one of my favorite Van albums.

One other notable event this month: on the 21st, I ventured into Philadelphia to see A Clockwork Orange at the TLA on South Street.

And, with that, here’s today’s Top 5: January 7, 1983 (via Weekly Top 40; for the week ending the 8th):

1) Hall & Oates – “Maneater.” For the fourth week in a row, the No. 1 song in the land was this catchy hit from the Philly pop-soul duo.

2) Michael Jackson & Paul McCartney – “The Girl Is Mine.” The lead single from MJ’s classic Thriller was this syrupy confection, which was the week’s No. 2 single.

3) Don Henley – “Dirty Laundry.” The lead single from Henley’s first solo album, I Can’t Stand Still, is as relevant today as it was when it was first released on October 12, 1982. This week, it rose to No. 3 (from No. 4).

4) Men at Work – “Down Under.” Jumping four spots to No. 4 is this one-time MTV staple.

5) Marvin Gaye – “Sexual Healing.” Entering the top 5 this week is this latter-day classic from Marvin Gaye, who was in the midst of a comeback. (His last hit had come in 1977, when “Got to Give It Up” topped the charts.)

And two bonuses…

6) Golden Earring – “Twilight Zone.” The Dutch group’s “Radar Love” is (rightfully) considered one of the greatest driving songs of all time, but this “powerplay” track – which jumped from No. 52 to 50 this week – is their lone Top 10 U.S. hit. (I’ve featured this song before, of course, in my March 1983 rundown.)

7) Dire Straits – “Industrial Disease.” After the success of 1980’s Making Movies, Mark Knopfler & Co. stretched out on Love Over Gold, a full-length LP with just five songs (including the 14-minute “Telegraph Road”). This satiric tune, which entered the charts at No. 86 this week, was the album’s shortest entry at 5:50.

Today’s Top 5: April 1983 (via Record)

April 1983: high-school graduation was a month and change away. I’d yet to attend a concert, outside of some nondescript local band (named Lightning, if memory serves) that played the high school one Friday or Saturday night in ’81 or ‘82. That would change the following month, though, when I saw not one, but two cool shows: the Kinks at the Spectrum and Roxy Music (with Modern English opening) at the Tower Theater…

And, yes, we have been here before: That opening paragraph is borrowed from what I wrote 11 months back, when I covered this same stitch in time – but via Musician magazine (click here for that). So, instead of regurgitating a similar recap, I’ll turn straight to the newsprint. And I do mean newsprint: the newspaper-like Record came folded in fourths, just like its big brother Rolling Stone did in the early ‘70s, and the ink sometimes smudged on the fingers.

Ric Ocasek of the Cars, as evidenced by the picture up top, graces the cover. He’s the focus of an in-depth profile by David Gans that, as the Contents page reveals, uncovers the fact that the soft-spoken musician is warm, human and lovable. Who would’ve guessed?

Today’s top 5:

1) Holly & the Italians – “Dangerously.” Mark Mehler pens an excellent profile of Holly Beth Vincent, which opens with this: “One morning about a year ago, [she] awoke to perhaps the worst feeling a human being can have—none at all. ‘I felt like I was in a void,’ she says matter-of-factly, not unlike one of those ‘real people’ on television describing the onset of a migraine headache. ‘I had no control over my body. I didn’t know who or where I was.’”

That inability to move apparently didn’t stop her from grabbing for a pen and scribbling the lyrics to this song, which graces her second album, Holly and the Italians. According to Mehler, “it’s one of several tunes on the album dealing explicitly with the thin line between sanity and insanity; with remembrance; with violence and loss. But these subjects are handled with poignancy, melodic grace and occasional humor.” (For the complete Holly Beth article, scroll down.)

2) R.E.M. – “Radio Free Europe.” Mehler also catches up with R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe, who discusses the recording of his band’s first album, then tentatively titled 7,000 Gifts. “From what I can hear,” he says, “most albums consist of ten songs all sounding pretty much the same. It’s taking me a long time to come to terms with the fact that we’re actually in the middle of recording one ourselves.” The brief piece concludes with Stipe discussing touring: “I don’t like to drive the van. Driving from Philadelphia to Madison, Wisconsin, in the middle of the night is no fun. But I can’t claim to be a martyr to rock ’n’ roll; it’s the life I chose.”

3) Marvin Gaye – “Sexual Healing.” At this point in time, Marvin was in the midst of a comeback – and sat for an interview with Gavin Martin. There’s far too much to recount, but I found and still find the last questions and answers  illuminating and sad.

4) Neil Young – “Transformer Man.” Stuart Cohn is not kind to Neil’s Trans album: “Neil Young’s much-vaunted experiment in electronic music is like one of those get-rich-quick schemes everyone comes up with now and then. It seems like a sure thing in the middle of the night as the drinks are flowing. But hungover in the cold light of dawn, you realize it wasn’t such a great idea after all.”

5) The Bangles – “I’m in Line.” Wayne King tackles the debut EP of “yet another all-girl group.” As you can see in the scan, he raises the question that “haunts most all female acts” – whether they play their own instruments on record – before dismissing it as irrelevant: “somebody has come up with what they used to call a hot platter, one so tight and sharp that it threatens to singlehandedly resurrect that deservedly-dormant phrase, power pop.”

He also singles out their “intricate and endearingly rough harmonizing” and equates the end of “I’m in Line” to the Move’s “Message From the Country.” He also pushes forth his view of how the band should evolve: “If the Bangles don’t yet articulate the tough sexual politics of a Chrissie Hynde, they at least may be close to finding that voice.”