My #2 album of 1980 would elicit gasps among the critical elite, who have long dismissed Billy Joel as a hack. Fuck ’em. Glass Houses is a blast — not The Stranger or 52nd Street great, but a whole lot of fun.
Rolling Stone wrote a vicious review of this album that ends with the admittedly catchy line “his material’s catchy… but then, so’s the flu.” And that’s about the kindest thing they had to say.
I don’t get it. But I’ve never gotten the hostility so many music snobs have for Billy Joel.
I may only own five albums from 1980, but fortunately they’re very good ones. In fact, in my #3 slot is an album that shows up on just about every list of the best albums of the entire decade.
Remain in Light is Talking Heads’ fourth album, and their first to embrace the African rhythms that would become a hallmark of their future work. Unlike their previous efforts, David Byrne didn’t deliver these songs to the band intact. They were conceived during jam sessions driven by the Heads’ excellent rhythm section of Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz.
My 4th favorite album of 1980 is one I didn’t hear until 36 years later — just a few months ago, in fact.
As I wrote in June while marching my way through half of Bowie’s catalog, Scary Monsters is widely considered the last great album he ever made. It capped off a remarkable run that spanned more than a dozen ground-breaking records in just over 10 years.
Get out your parachute pants, Members Only jackets and shoulder pads, because we’re heading to the 80s. Specifically, 1980, as I offer up another installment of my Decades series.
Last year I featured the albums of 1972, ’82, ’92 and 2002 (starting with ’72 because it’s my birth year) and earlier this year I rewound to look at the music of 1970. My plan is to cover 1980, 1990 and 2000 before the year is through.
I haven’t listened to the Hunger Games soundtrack very often in the five years since its release. I bought it for a couple of Taylor Swift songs and a track by Pistol Annies, and I’ve given short shrift to the rest.
My mistake, I’m discovering, as a few of these tunes pop up on Random iTunes Weekends and turn out to be quite good. Here, Alabama-born The Secret Sisters deliver a mournful track, the sad delivery of which runs counter to its message of hope.
Meet Me In Montauk 