a brand new key

[abrandnewkey]

The Blow Monkeys “Digging Your Scene”

KERRY: The song that I can't get enough of lately is “Digging Your Scene” by The Blow Monkeys.

AJ: How does The Blow Monkeys sound hold up thirty years later?

KERRY: “Digging Your Scene” wasn't typical of music for the time.

AJ: Too poppy for the new wave or alternative eighties?

KERRY: It felt a little bit like a novelty song — which in essence makes it feel timeless to me.

AJ: What was 'novel' about it?

KERRY: It was novel because it kinda sounded retro and lounge!

AJ: Retro before retro. I like that.

KERRY: And the video was certainly a shout out to that theory. I always found the song to be blindingly uplifting. And again the video supported that. I also felt that there was a triumphant ‘be yourself’ kind of message — more so in the video.

AJ: What in particular is uplifting about the song?

KERRY: The sound of it. The feel of it.

AJ: Describe it.

KERRY: It's effervescent! The lyrics are a little haunting but their juxtaposition to the music is what gives this song its appeal to me. It was one of the first songs that dealt with AIDS. But I get the sense that it was a shout out to the resiliency and the fortitude of the gay community.

AJ: It's not a song you hear a lot today when people get on a retro eighties kick. Or not at all.

KERRY: They were more of a UK band.

AJ: But a lot of UK bands had hits in Canada. Sadly, that success didn’t always transfer to the States. Flock of Seagulls is considered a one hit wonder in the U.S. but they charted several times in Canada. And I guess a lot of the success for bands like The Blow Monkeys came from the surge in popularity from the videos.

KERRY: I think my favourite part of the video that illustrates the resiliency I was talking about is near the end with the unreciprocated food fight. Ornery dude in the lounge audience throws fruit from his cocktail in the direction of the band. Drummer catches it in his mouth and eats it — like it’s a gift. Then ornery guy throws the umbrella from his cocktail. Dr. Robert suddenly presents a beautiful parasol on stage… a blown up identical version of the cocktail umbrella. And to me, that was like says “Go ahead! Throw anything at us. We’ll be okay. We’ll make it work.”

[abrandnewkey]

Madonna “Express Yourself”

A: Madonna was never better than when she recorded “Holiday,” “Borderline” and “Lucky Star.” Go ahead. Tell me I'm wrong.

K: For boys, I think that was the best Madonna. For girls who were toddlers or tweens during the era the produced Madonna’s self-titled debut album, there's a different best-Madonna for each respectively.

A: I agree about everyone having their favourite best Madonna. For me it’s a nostalgia thing. Nostalgia is extremely powerful. And for as much as I am not a great Madonna fan and for as much as I appreciate the many ways she has been able to reinvent herself, I can still recall sitting in the cafeteria at Samuel de Champlain High School (go Vikings) at lunch listening to the radio pumping through the tiny tinny speakers and thinking that there was something completely fresh about her sound. I didn't care about the red lipstick, the fishnet and the rubber bracelets. The music stood out. The music.

K: For me, the “Express Yourself” Madonna was the best. There have been so many reinventions, with diverse appeals, and each one is worthy of its own fan base.

A: Billboard magazine is in agreement with both of us. The ranked “Like a Virgin” as Madonna’s best album followed by “Ray of Light” and “Madonna” from 1983. And they picked “Like a Prayer” as Madonna’s best song followed by “Vogue” and “Into the Groove.” Ah, “Desperately Seeking Susan.” Now that’s a conversation for another day! So, why is the “Express Yourself” era the Kerry era?

K: It was an okay time. It was one of my most social eras. And the “Express Yourself” Madonna was grown up and sophisticated — self-assured. To me, the ideal Madonna. The “Borderline” Madonna was tarty and sassy. I appreciated the spunky appeal that that Madonna had but it wasn't an image I would aspire to.

A: Too tarty?

K: I always thought the early Madonna was a little on the wild trampy side. Last year for 80s theme day, I had no qualms outfitting our then-7-year-old in Madonna gear — fishnet arm bands, flouncy skirt over leggings, super teased hair over a scarf tied in a bow around her head, big tacky earrings. Her look is so iconic… so 80s, it took the tramp out of it for me.

A: How did you feel when that Madonna confidence from “Express Yourself” morphed into the more blatantly sexual and questionably immoral Madonna decade?

K: I sort of quit Madonna. I wasn't into a Madonna song again until “Ray of Light” in 1998 — The Ethereal Madonna. The Super-Sex Madonna wasn't that appealing to me.

A: What are your thoughts on her other various 'styles' over the years. The cone-bras et al.

K: I’ve mostly been an observer of the metamorphoses. I kind of bought into the beginning-Madonna. Like you said, it was fresh and new and different. But beyond that, I liked some of her music more than others and observed her more as a master manipulate of media. I think she was authentic in the sense that she was authentically ambitious and ruthless enough to get where she wanted to go regardless.

A: Was Madonna a success only because she was a clever and innovative marketer?

K: Her ambition made her a clever and innovative marketer.

A: Would her music have been appreciated without that marketing ambition?

K: I think her music would have been appreciated in all its incarnations with or without the push. The push just made her an icon.

[abrandnewkey]

Taylor Swift “Blank Space”

K: Aqua fit was rocking this morning. I was compelled to compliment the instructor on her playlist. “Men Without Hats,” “Stealers Wheel,” an amazing remix of “Gimme Me Shelter,” “Ballroom Blitz,” “Bad Moon Rising.”

A: Why was hearing these songs amazing? Was it the moment of the memories?

K: I wouldn't go so far as amazing. It was just nice to hear songs I knew all the lyrics to. I can't make head or tail of the lyrics of a lot of the songs today. But I can remember the lyrics from songs 30-plus years old.

A: Name a song today to can't make head or tails of.

K: Taylor Swift “Blank Space.”

A: Isn’t that Abi’s new favourite song?

K: It is. I would swear there was a line about ‘Starbucks lovers.’ “Blank Space” is about loving some Joe! Turns out it's got a long list of ex-lovers — not a comment on Starbucks lovers.

A: She we be concerned that our 8-year old loves this song so much?

K: I do worry about the lyrics she is listening to. Her brain is fresh enough and eager enough that she knows all the lyrics. When I hear her singing certain lyrics I have to interrupt and have a conversation with her about what she thinks of the lyrics and what they mean to her. 

A: Ad they videos? She has been living on YouTube like I used to watch Friday Night Videos in the eighties and Terry David Mulligan on CBC with ‘Good Rockin’ Tonight.’ 

K: Watching the videos is another adventure. We had a big discussion how the videos are play acting and that I don't think Taylor would really take a golf club to a boyfriends windshield. 

A: Maybe.

K: Even though her outfits in that video are super-cute, we both feel that the new video is super violent. 

A: Too violent?

K: Abi really didn't like the dagger to the teddy bear. It's tough because Taylor is 25 now and making grown-up music and videos — and her appeal to an 8-year old seems to be unwavering. I don't want Abi to look to rock stars as roll models but it's somewhat inevitable with the high exposure of celebrity. That just creates more teachable moments.

A: But I guess if you were going to have to chose a rock and roll role model for an almost nine year old, Taylor Swift ain't a bad way to go.

K: Swift is definitely a good way to go. She's her own person. She's not pretending to be an angel. She's ambitious. And even though some of her videos are very grown-up and not appealing to a 9-year old, so be it. It just means we will have to talk about it. 

A: So I guess this will be the next discussion.

[abrandnewkey]

Carly Simon “You Belong to Me”

K: Carly Simon. And… go.

A: There are a couple of things that pop into my head when I think about Carly Simon. I remember listening to “You're So Vain” when I was a kid. My dad had her album in his eclectic record collection that also included Black Sabbath, CCR, and “Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison.”

As I grew older, I learned to appreciate the joke Johnny Fever made in an episode of WKRP talking about going into the back to look at some Carly Simon album covers.

And as I got older still and started playing the song in the radio, I grew to truly appreciate what an incredible songwriter she was:

"You're so vain you probably think this song is about you."

Seems like such an obvious and simple lyric. But it's not. It's complicated and deep and real. Your turn.  

K: “You Belong To Me” was my musical litmus test for the CJRN Saturday Morning Top 40 Countdown. It was a favourite on the CKGM Top 40 too — and it was a relief to hear the song in a similar position on the charts when we moved from Montreal to Niagara Falls in 1978. As important as it was back then, I appreciate the song a lot more 37 years later.

A: It had a slicker funkier feel to it than a lot of the stuff she was doing in the mid-seventies. Great bass lines. Great horns. How was it that this song became the standard that all others were measured?

K: It was important for gauging the radio station.

A: Beyond finding a good radio station, what do you remember the song meaning to you then?

K: Then it was a catchy romantic song. I think my 14 year old self heard the passion in the way she sang it.  

A: Was it a ‘Carly Simon’ thing back then or did you recognize the song from the year before when it was a hit for The Doobie Brothers? (Michael McDonald co-wrote the song with Carly.)

K: The Doobie Brothers version was never on my radar. Still isn't. I love the song but it's the way Carly Simon’s version is produced that makes it stand out to me. Production value is something new to me. Until recently I wasn't consciously aware of liking or not liking a song because of the way it's produced. Listening to the last Fiona Apple release made me start thinking about it. I don't know if she used a different producer but to me, it sounded like she did. Listening to the free U2 release that found its way onto my iPhone, I felt like the production was superior to the songs themselves.

A: Is Carly a one hit wonder to your ears?

K: Not at all. “Coming Around Again” is another favorite. “Better Not Tell Her” is a huge fav.

A: What is it about her? Her writing? Her voice? Her style? Her smile? The people she worked with like ex-husband James Taylor?

K: Yes. I can even listen to the songs that don't blow my hair back as much because of her voice and her style.

A: Describe her voice. Describe her style.

K: Sexy. Sultry. Smoky. Sincere. Sophisticated. Sensual. I'm running out of S-words.

A: Simon?

[abrandnewkey]

Fiona Apple – Werewolf

A: What makes Fiona Apple one of the best songwriters in contemporary music?  

K: That’s a hard question for me to answer. I'm such a fan that I find myself too gushy to articulate an answer. For me no one writes such brilliant and poignant lyrics so consistently. I remember the first time I heard the song “Werewolf” from “The Idler Wheel…” Just that first line…

“ I could liken you to a werewolf.... “

It just rang my bell. You don't have to delve too deep in a Fiona Apple song to get the emotional payoff. Maybe that's because her delivery is so authentically emotional too.

A: Is there such thing as being too emotional or revealing too much of yourself in a song?

K: Possibly for the person doing the revealing — unless you consider the listener vulnerable by association. And Fiona Apple has revealed an overtly emotional side in interviews that matches the rawness in her music.

A: Is that a good thing?

K: It seems the persona she reveals is equally as emotional as her lyrics/songs. I think it reveals an authenticity. And authenticity is currently regarded as a virtue… even if extreme emotion isn't. Her lyrics to me are so emotionally revealing you can't help but feel you know her.

A: Does it make you, the fan, feel closer to Fiona, the artist? Are you more willing to invest more of yourself into her music — and by default, her life?

K: Not her life. Her soul. As much as I'm a fan I don't think I'd want to meet her — or any "star" for that matter. But I am grateful for her ability to share her soul so beautifully.

A: So when you listen to a song like “Werewolf,” what do you learn/know about Fiona the person?

K: That her emotional/romantic journey has led her to a mature place where you accept responsibility for your part in a relationship — the good and the bad.

A: Some might argue that her real life antics are not so mature. Getting caught with drugs. Throwing what has been described as 'fits' on stage and storming off.

K: I think that's the price of being so raw and so vulnerable as an artist. I guess that answers your query about revealing too much of yourself in a song as being a bad thing. That's just who she is and she doesn't keep it off the stage… another side effect of being so authentic. I think it might be the difference between being an artist and being a professional entertainer.

A: Can’t you be both?

K: I think there are few people who can be both successfully. At the end of the day I would take lyrics like:

I'm a tulip in a cup I stand no chance of growing up I've made my peace I'm dead I'm done I watched you live to have my fun

… from “Valentine” over anything. I guess I'm saying that there is a price to following an artist that exposes her soul so magnificently. She may make "erratic" acceptance speeches (and this), she may be an awkward talk show guest (and this) and she may storm off a stage every once in a while. But in this case I definitely think the juice is worth the squeeze.

[abrandnewkey]

Taylor Swift - “Shake It Off” 

A: Would you be listening to Taylor Swift or Katy Perry today if we didn't have an eight year old daughter?

K: I would openly listen to Katy Perry. Listening to Taylor Swift would be my secret shame. So I guess I musically hide behind Abi to enjoy me some Swift!

A: Why hide the Swift?

K: I hide the Swift because my inner child is a 15-year old girl desperately trying to not look uncool.

A: Is it more important to you to remain cool or remain young at heart?

K: Musically I'd like to model originality for Abi. I pray to the gods of music that she doesn't go through a manufactured boy band phase. Swift may not be cool per say but some of her songs are somewhat empowering for a young girl. “Shake It Off” has a great message. But learning that Swift is trying to copyright the phrase "This sic beat" tips the commercial unoriginality scales.

A: And what about the idea that a lot of her songs, especially on previous albums, where simply reflections on failed relationships? Is that empowering or vengeful?

K: I think it's empowering to the creative process... write what you know. 

A: Is Abi going to understand that message or is she going to hear the emotional ideas of an ambitious (overly ambitious?) singer /songwriter /entrepreneur who wants to slap a trademark on everything from angst to catchphrases?

K: I think we hear what we need to hear.

A: And what do you hear?

K: If Abi is experiencing teenage heartache or angst, I hope she hears the voice of a kindred spirit.

A: Me too. But... what do you hear in a Taylor Swift song?

K: I hear undeniably catchy songs with a commercial thrust. This conversation has me feeling conflicted. I grew up loving Top 40 music and nothing gets more Top 40 than Taylor Swift. But somewhere along the way, the more obvious manufactured artists and 2-dimensional pop stars lost appeal and gained an uncool factor. Maybe I was delusional and all top 40 is uncool.

A: Maybe all Top 40 is delusional and you’re just too cool.

[abrandnewkey]

Seals and Crofts “Summer Breeze”

  K: Do you have a song that you dislike, not necessarily for the song itself but for the bad/negative/horrible feelings it brings up?

  A: That’s a hard one. I had to think about this and then forget about it and then think about it again.

  K: And what came back?

  A: The first thing that popped into my head was "Don't Bring Me Down" by ELO. This song doesn't necessary bring back bad bad memories. More like cringe worthy Modern Family kind of recollections of being a young awkward shy naive almost-teenager who really didn't know how to 'handle' being around girls. (And I suppose that is still somewhat true.)

  K: What was that cringe worthy moment?

  A: This song drops me smack dab in the middle of a roller skating arena when I was about 12 years old. Not only were girls a mystery but so was the ability to balance and to skate. And of course ELO was playing over the tinny echo-y loud speakers. Before the evening ended, I had an orange drink and went home early feeling totally defeated and rejected. But the only one I let down... was me... Bruuuuce!

  K: Do you still like the song?

  A: Actually, I do. Another song I still like is Cheap Trick's "I Want You to Want Me" even though that what was playing on the radio the night I worked up the nerve to call grade eight's most statuesque blonde and ask her to see a movie with me. Dee Dee said "No" and the next day she and her short busty sidekick had a good laugh about it. Despite all that, I survived.

  K: Mine goes a little further back. Let's just say “Summer Breeze” by Seals and Crofts doesn’t make me feel fine. I was eight the summer that song came out. I distinctly remember being in the U.S. with the fam and the song was playing as we came across a house ablaze.

  A: We played that song a lot at the first radio station we worked at together. What did you think and feel every time it came on the air?

  K: If possible I always cut it off at the source. It taints whatever is happening at the time it comes on.

  A: That’s a lot of power to give to a song. How does it taint everything? What thoughts does it bring to mind?

  K: It puts me right back in that car and the terrifying realization of how fire can turn a family home into devastation. It was the first event that started my fear of fire.

  A: There are more?

  K: This is where my memory blurs but on another trip, I was close to the same age and we were staying overnight in a motel. Half of the motel had burned down the previous week. I remember lying awake all night watching for flames/blackness to engulf the walls starting from the ceiling. That same winter, I remember getting off the school bus and walking up the block to my home where I noticed fire in our neighbour’s kitchen window. Fortunately, they weren't home, everyone was okay, and the house wasn’t completely demolished.

  A: Ironic lyrics from the song:

  See the curtains hangin' in the window

In the evening on a Friday night

A little light-a-shinin' through the window

Let’s me know everything's all right

  K: Fire safety demonstrations took on a sinister feel at the local mall. Then I learned about spontaneous combustion and my head exploded at the possibility of chaos without any control. It doesn't matter how many fire safety rules you follow if something can spontaneously combust. I started lying awake every night until my dad got home at midnight. Without communicating it to him, I figured it was then "his watch" and I finally fell asleep dreaming of homes made of steel and other non-flammable materials. So feelings of loss, immortality, doom and chaos beyond control are brought on by a single song.

  A: Do you think you will ever be able to forgive Seals and Crofts for their misdeeds?

  K: It’s been over 40 years and “Summer Breeze” still unnerves me. I'm not sure I'm ever going to disassociate the bad vibes with it. I don't know that I need to. 

[abrandnewkey]

Redbone – Come and Get Your Love

  A: When people ask me who my favourite artists or singers are, I almost always forget to mention guys like Tom Petty and Elvis Costello. But the minute I hear something like “The Waiting” and “Watching the Detectives” I inevitably remember that they are among my favourites too. Do you have a favourite that you often forget is a favourite?

  K: Absolutely. And when I hear a forgotten favorite, it feels like finding $20 in the pocket of a jacket you haven't worn in a while. Often I'll have this reaction to a song more than an artist.

  A: What was the last song you heard that made you think 'Wow. I forgot about that song. I forgot how much I love that song.'

  K: I was at Aquafit as part of my new job at a high school and Redbone’s “Come and Get Your Love” came on.

  A: I remember that! It reminds me of my first job in radio. Among a lot of a slow schlocky music that I had to play on the air, “Come and Get Your Love” was always a bright spot on an otherwise dull playlist.

  K: It's a really great song. One of the students and I had the song stuck in our heads after class. I asked her how she knew it since it came out four decades ago. She told me the song is on the Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack. Now I need to see the movie!

  A: All right. Colour me sincerely surprised. I can appreciate that song getting stuck in your head and I love that Guardians has introduced this and other seventies classics like Blue Swede’s “Hooked on a Feeling” to a whole new generation. But I never would have thought that “Come and Get Your Love” was an all-time favourite of yours. Why?

  K: It was the summer between grade 4 and 5. I believe I had the song on one of my K-Tel albums which I played on my blue plastic record player. I thought that record player was the greatest thing since white popsicles. And I remember my best friend Linda and me putting together some kind of dance routine to the song.

  A: Describe the show.

  K: From what I remember, the dance routine had a lot of fore arm spinning around fore arm action at the end during the “Come and get your love come and get your love come and get your love now” part – guitar emphasis sounding like an exclamation mark!

  A: Why do you think you liked the song?

  K: It's was a fun breezy song. And I surprisingly remembered all the words. Oh. I need to add that when I received the aforementioned blue plastic record player, I promptly put hand drawn bumper stickers on my bedroom wall creating my own radio station – KMBS. That was my initials back then and not a premeditated declaration of wanting to live west of the Mississippi.

  A: What else might have been on the KMBS playlist?

  K: KMBS featured a lot of the edited top 40 songs fresh off the latest K-Tel album

  A: Would Redbone be played on KMBS today?

  K: Unfortunately no. These days, the KMBS playlist is small and repetitive and stuck in a rut. For Redbone to maintain its magic, it has to remain on a random out-of-the-blue playlist that appears at random times like during the first week of your new job when you are a nervous wreck so it can be a comforting reprieve from the storm of unfamiliarity.  

[abrandnewkey]

Ashford and Simpson “Solid”

  A: You asked me a while ago about cheesy songs. That stumped me. The term ‘cheesy’ is rather broad and certainly subjective. Sometimes, 'cheesy' can be defined as something overtly sentimental and/or silly and/or a song with too-clever-wordplay. I Googled ‘cheesy songs’ and agreed with a lot of what others had to share:

  Lionel Richie “Hello” – Dripping with eighties tears that seem even more contrived today.

  The Oak Ridge Boys “Elvira” – Talented vocalists who latched onto an infectious novelty – intentionally or not. Umm papa umm papa mau mau!

  Ray Parker Jr. “Ghostbusters” – Parker was better than this song but this song was as good as the movie so it fit.

  Wham! “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” – I suppose I liked Wham well enough when this song came out. It was Elvira-infectious. And following “Wake Me Up” with “Careless Whisper” was a smart brave move. But that being said, “Careless Whisper” is a hunk of gouda itself.

  And then two more songs popped into my head: Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder “Ebony and Ivory.” (Remember the SNL parody featuring Eddie Murphy as Stevie and Joe Piscapo as Francis Albert Sinatra?)

  And Le Fromage King –  “That’s What Friends are For” by Elton John, Dionne Warwick, Gladys Knight and Stevie again.

  K: My definition of ‘cheese’ includes manufactured pop with the sole purpose of grabbing attention and making money. So “That’s What Friends are For” fits that definition nicely. So does Psy’s “Gangnam Style.”

  A: At least Psy is unapologetic about the fact that he was blatantly trying to manufacture ear-candy. There is a part of me that wants to believe that Elton, Dionne, Gladys and Stevie were trying to be… sincere. But this is manufactured and engineered cheese at its best/worst. Let's take some of the most talented singers in the world and see if we can create a super-group of sorts. The ideas behind the lyrics are lovely. But it always felt like this song was sung with an element of 'aw shucks' and 'oh well' along with a wink and a knowing nod that what they were doing was all for the sake of fame, fortune and opportunity.

  K: Then there is the cheese that seems too hooky and hokey for words – songs that resonate with  5-year olds and their parents who pick up their smartphones to record their adorable darlings dancing delightfully to monterey-jack shit like Billy Ray Cyrus’ “Achy Breaky Heart.”

  A: Like Ray Parker, you think Billy Ray was better than that one song?

  K: I’m not a country fan but I do think ‘cheese’ like “Achy Breaky Heart” can put a lot of money in a recording artist’s bank account but can also hurt their reputation as a real talent.

  A: That covers novelty-cheese. What about smultszy-cheese?

  K: Anything smultszy can largely be based on a degree of taste. I know you and I have a built-in repellant to smultszy over-sentimental songs seemingly written for the purpose of making girls cry.

  A: How about over-the-top cheese?

  K: Like Mitsou’s “Bye Bye Mon Cowboy.” That song is catchy as hell and just typing the title will have it playing over and over in my head for the rest of the day. The song has a self-deprecating nature – like it was saying ‘I know I'm a cheesy song and I know you know I'm a cheesy song but let's just dance to Mitsou singing like she was just put on this earth to sound like sex on a platter and be done with it.’

  A: So what is your favourite cheesy song flavour?

  K: Mine actually comes from the same cheesy category as your not-so-favourite cheesy song. “Solid” by Ashford and Simpson.

  A: Really?

  K: Oh ya! It’s one of those songs that is a little over the top but seems to have a burst of sincerity and fun in there too.

  A: Knowing how you feel about sentimental songs, I’m surprised.

  K: “Solid” does seem overly emotional and the arrangement and lyrics come across as crazy over the top. But the song sung by a real life couple has a lot of heart – and that was ha-ha-ha-ha-hot!

  A: A real life couple…

  K: With real life struggles.

  A: Nick Ashford and Valerie Simpson were married for 37-years. He passed away from throat cancer in 2011 – just four days before her 65th birthday.

  K: Wow. But you see what I mean? Though “Solid” can be perceived as soppy and gushy, the cheese is countered by lyrics born from a real life relationship. So definitely cheese by definition but a song I can't help but enjoy. And here is a secret I have been harboring for a long time. If I were to wake up one morning and find that that broom handle had fallen out of my ass, “Solid” is the song I would most likely pick to sing a karaoke duet with you.

  A: For you, I'd do it. 'Cause that's what friends are for.

[abrandnewkey]

Duran Duran “Save a Prayer”

K: I never went as far as being a fedora-wearing Durani…

  A: Durani? Like Trekkie? Is that a real thing?

  K: But I will admit to being a big Duran Duran fan. I think my lack of hat-wear can be attributed to being in college during their surge of popularity in Canada. Tweens really identified with the group by focusing on headgear. I was immersed in their video library which inspired me to want to travel. A: The videos were adventurous and exotic. Would your first port-of-call been Rio? K: No, Sri Lanka. That’s where they filmed “Save a Prayer” and “Hungry Like the Wolf.”

  A: But you never went.

  K: No.

  A: Why not?

  K: Political unrest in the country and a constant flow of terrorist attacks coupled with my complete lack of travel experience abroad kept me from Sri Lanka. I did start travelling at that time though.

  A: Where?

  K: My first trip without my family was the Bahamas. Not the same level of exotic. More like dipping my travelling-toe in the water. A: And was Simon Le Bon there with you too? Was there still that same sense of fedora-wearing erotic-exotic adventure? K: No, Sri Lanka was the ultimate dream. It was somewhere I saw myself going alone or with a very significant other. By the time I got to the Bahamas, Sri Lanka was on the back burner and so was the obsession which really started with some slow motion shots of John Taylor on an elephant. College was ending and I just wanted life to start happening. A: It certainly says a lot about the videos and the power they could wield in the eighties. But what about the music?

  K: I loved bands like Styx but this new romantic era was really refreshing. Not just the image but the music. It was melodic – not just dance focused. And the videos were revolutionary. I liked Duran Duran for the whole package.   A: Videos and travel aside, what was a favourite song back then?

K: Definitely “Save a Prayer.” Loved the music, loved the lyrics, loved Simon’s voice and loved the video. But that was then. Now, of all their work, I think “Ordinary World” is my all time favourite.

  A: Back to “Save a Prayer” – The song had a way of being sentimental and lovely without being too mushy and 'hallmarky.' That was clever. How do you think they were able to achieve that? K: I think Duran Duran’s skill as song writers (the whole band is credited for writing the tune) has more depth than some people give them credit for. As much as a lot of their early days look like a whirlwind of pop popularity, there are some really great solid songs that are part of their catalogue.   A: When you hear “Save a Prayer” today, what does it make you think of? K: Hope, freedom and happiness. Living in the moment.

  A: And hats?

[abrandnewkey]

Cutting Crew “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight”

  K: So you’re not a Michael Jackson fan.

  A: Not really.

  K: If one of his songs comes on the radio, do you immediately change the station?

  A: To be honest I don't think there is a MJ song that would make me scream "No way Jacko. Go pedal your Jesus Juice elsewhere." I don't listen to stations that play much of his music so it's almost a nostalgic treat to hear something from “Off the Wall” and “Thriller.” Even “Bad” or “Dangerous.” I can even tolerate a McCartney duet or two when the mood strikes.

  K: I can think of only one song that makes me want to dropkick the radio through the goalposts of bad taste and that's Cutting Crew’s “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight.” To me that song is a waste of airspace and had no redeeming values at all! A: Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.

  K: I hate it!

  A: I don’t hate the song. As a matter of fact, there was a time when I sort of liked it. “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight” served a purpose for me in the eighties. It was reason-to-be-depressed schlock I had to play on my college radio station. For that reason alone, hearing the song again brings back the warm fuzzies. But now, it's just audio wallpaper. Why the not-so-deep-seated hatred for the milquetoast retro-eighties pseudo-classic?

  K: I don't like the melody. I don't like the arrangement. I don't like the lead singer’s voice...

  A: Nick Van Eede?

  K: Ya. I don't like him.

  A: What else?

  K: I don’t like the back-up voices. And I really find the lyrics banal.

  A: You don’t like ‘em?

  K: Honestly, if we were dating and you liked this song just a morsel more than you do, I think it would be a deal breaker. A: I'm not going to try to defend Cutting Crew from your wrath. You’re right. It’s not a great song. What's worse, it has not weathered time well. But good and bad songs are sometimes circumstantial.

  K: What do you mean?

  A: I remember playing this along with songs like “Try” by Blue Rodeo and “I Don't Mind At All” by Bourgeois Tagg on CRNC -- my campus radio station in college. That was a great time in my life. I hated high school. So now I was starting a new life doing exactly what I wanted to do and I loved it. That time spent on the air in college is nothing but good memories and, to be honest, the music is literally a soundtrack to those times. Today, that song is just a sound that reminds me of how free I felt before I entered the stifling corporate world of broadcast communications. You could say that the song foreshadowed the beginning of my career; and my affair with college radio – before marrying commercial broadcasting.

  K: So you agree. It’s a bad song.

  A: Sort of. I’m not going to sit here and try to decipher the band's convoluted purple prose just to give more reason to the fact that I only like the song for memories-sake. But that being said, when I looked up lists containing the most hated songs of the eighties, “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight” didn’t make anyone’s top ten that I could see.

  K: So what did make some of the most hated lists?

  A: Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” should have given up long ago. It was unnecessarily happy.

  K: It was sassy dancing fun.

  A: Taco. “Puttin’ On the Ritz.” Give me the Mel Brooks’ version any day.

  K: Fun to sing along too.

  A: Really? How about Toni Basel’s “Mickey.” I don’t want this tune representing my favourite musical decade.

  K: Bring it on!

  A: Bobby McFerrin’s “Don’t Worry Be Happy.”

  K: Jamaica on my 25th birthday!

  A: Oh come on! Even McFerrin doesn’t like this song. At least you are proving my ‘circumstances’ theory. How about “Rock Me Amadeus” by Falco?

  K: Hard to dance to.

  A: I’ll take Nena any day. Men Without Hats “Safety Dance?”

  K: I’m watching the video right now.

  A: Thanks to Canadian Content regulations, I had to play this song way too many time in the eighties and ninties on the air. Radio burn-out. Beach Boys’ “Kokomo?”

  K: Kill me now.

  A: Thank you. Luba? “Everytime I See Your Picture.”

  K: Liked Luba. Not that song. Just for that, I’m hitting you with “Bye Bye Mon Cowboy.”

  A: Mitsu Mitsu Mitsu Mitsu Mitsu Mitsu Mitsu Mitsu…

  K: What are you doing?

  A: I’m just saying her name over and over again ‘til it loses all meaning. Chris DeBurgh’s “Lady in Red?”

  K: Guzhunteit.

  A: Anything by Christopher Cross, Asia or Europe?

  K: Sailing was pretty. Arthur’s Theme was a strong song lyrically. Asia = Depression. And Europe was just background noise – even then.

  A: How about the song that is rumoured to have broken up the band; “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” by Wham! Take that Little Miss George Michael fan!

  K: What can I say? It put the boom boom into my heart!

  A: And the number-one song on more than one list counting down the most hated songs of the eighties: Starship’s “We Built This City.”

  K: I didn’t mind that.

  A: Actually, neither did I.

  K: They marketed the song in a unique way. There was a radio announcer section in the middle of the track that was personalized for the geographic area near where you lived.

  A: I remember that! It is funny though that one of the so-called most hated songs in rock was actually co-written by one of the most successful songwriters in contemporary music.

  K: Who?

  A: Bernie Taupin.

  K: As in… Elton John and Bernie Taupin?

  A: That’s the one.

  K: Wow.

  A: After going back and listening to all of these songs, I have to ask… is Cutting Crew’s “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight” really THAT bad?

  K: Well, I have found a one redeeming factoid. When Van Eede wrote the song, he came up with the opening line and the title while having sex with his girlfriend. I guess the train of thought started with the French belief that an orgasm is like ‘la petite mort’ or a tiny death.

  A: So you like the song a little more now?

  K: No. Still makes me change the station. But at least I've got some interesting trivia to think-on to help drown-out that awful noise.

[abrandnewkey]

Angus and Julia Stone “You’re the One That I Want”

K: I think we need to sort of talk about songs we don't like.

A: Sounds good… well, not… good. You know what I mean. 

K: Is there a cover of a song that you liked better than the original. 

A: I am among a silent minority comprised of apparently insane souls who do not think that Michael Jackson was the greatest singer ever. I classify my pseudo affection for Jackson's work as an 'appreciation.' It is not lost on me what the man's contributions were to pop culture. Hell, I even owned an original vinyl copy of 'Thriller.' But when it comes to casual listening, my iPod stops at The Jackson 5. There are exceptions of course. There are always exceptions.

K: Like what?

A: Like 'Beat It.' That was an important song in my musical upbringing -- especially since it helped usher in the age of music videos. 'Billie Jean' too. But I have to admit that I never really listened to the lyrics of ‘Billie Jean’ until I heard Chris Cornell's version.

K: How did Cornell do it differently?

A: ‘Billie Jean’ is actually a sad song. A little dark. And Cornell’s arrangement reflects that tone – especially when you compare it to Jackson’s more energized style. K: I do know what you mean about Michael Jackson. I think a lot of people might have hit a saturation point with ‘Thriller’ the first time around. I really like a lot of the songs on that album but none of them are on any of my playlists. I think I've heard them too many times.

A: Video saturation. Radio burn-out.

K: That being said, if it weren't for Michael Jackson's ‘Billie Jean,’ I would never have reached my highest Ms. Pac-Man scores. Something about the rhythm of that song made me play my best!

A: For me, Def Leppard’s “Photograph” and Quiet Riot’s “Cum On Feel the Noize” helped me reach previously unattainable highs on Robotron, Defender and Asteroids. So what song was not on your radar until you hear a cover version?

K: ‘Grease’ has always been a non-entity in my life. I think I'm the only person who didn't love the movie. And I never owned the soundtrack – yet I know all the songs off by heart.

A: That last point could be considered a ‘deal-breaker’ in some relationships!

K: “You're the One That I Want" by John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John left me cold…

A: You just redeemed yourself!

K: I hated the song… that is until I heard Angus and Julia Stone’s version.

A: I had to look these guys up online. I’d never heard of them. Angus and Julia are an Australian brother and sister folk/blues/acoustic group who have been performing and recording together (and separately) since 2006. Though they have had limited success outside of their home country (France, Switzerland, the Netherlands) it’s in Australia where their star shines brightest. How did you discover these guys?

K: The first time I heard the Stone sibling’s version of “You’re the One That I Want,” I was in a hot yoga class in yet another compromising position that defied my body’s ability. And when the song came on, I was desperate to grab my phone and Shazam it.

A: That’s a yoga move all its own.

K: I had no idea who Angus and Julia Stone were. But I downloaded an EP just for the ‘Grease’ cover. And that’s when I re-discovered another song I immediately recognized as being part of a Maybelline commercial that ran excessively in movie theatres. And I mean excessively.

A: I don’t remember that.

K: I don't know if you would consider the advertising campaign successful. I didn’t remember (or buy) the Maybelline product being pushed – but I very much remember the music.

A: Do you like the cover for nostalgia-sake (whether you liked Grease or not, nostalgia is designed generally to bring with it a flood of warm and fuzzy memories) or do you like it because you are now a fan of the artists who covered the song? K: I think nostalgia plays a teensy part. But a bigger part is my admiration for the artists who turned a song I would change the channel to get away from into a song I would reach out a sweaty contorted hand to Shazam.

A: So are you an indie folk fan now?

K: I've flirted with indie folk in soundtracks before – songs I've really loved but never committed to the artist. The problem might be that I think I sometimes associate the song with the movie too much.

A: For example?

K: I downloaded some songs from “The Girl Next Door” OST because I couldn't get them out of my head after seeing the film. But listening back to them without the movie felt lacking.

A: Were there any soundtracks that could stand on their own?

K: The soundtrack for “Romeo and Juliet” starring Leo. I love the entire CD. But I never explored the individual artists – many of whom could be categorized as indie. A: Does that mean I am going to hear you listening to more Bon Iver in the future.

K: Right now I'm just rediscovering songs from my past and the new music is trickling in randomly. I've never gone on a search for music without an organic prompt – like painfully trying to twist yourself through a hot yoga class and suddenly hearing a song you want to listen to again.

[abrandnewkey]

Dwight Yoakam “Turn It On Turn It Up Turn Me Loose”

K: Dwight Yoakam's appearance on “Under the Dome” reminded me how much I like his music and his persona. A: What did you like first about Dwight? The music? Or the persona? K: The music drew me. The persona made me a fan.

A: Talk to me about the music. What is your most vivid Dwight memory? K: ‘Guitars Cadillacs’ was the first song of his I was aware of.

A: That’s the first Dwight album I bought too.

K: I wasn't a country music fan in any sense of the term. I don't even know where I first heard the song. But my Mom gave me a copy of the CD as a random out-of-the-norm gift.

A: I’ve never seen your mother as a country fan.

K: Well, she recognized I wouldn't buy a country CD of my own volition. And I do remember an outstanding promo for either CMT or the country program on Much Music that used the song “Fast As You” along with clips from other artists. But it was Dwight that stood out.    A: I think Dwight was a big transition artist for a lot of people in the eighties who, like me, didn't really want to give country music a chance.

K: I will shout from the rooftops to this day that I am not a country fan.

A: I’m not either. But I have an appreciation for the genre.

K: Why do you think you don’t like country?

A: Maybe it was a defiance thing. I didn't want to listen to country music because my Dad listened to country music. But Dwight sort of changed that for me – sort of like what The Dixie Chicks did for too-cool-for-school audiences in the late nineties by bringing a more traditional and genuine sound to the mainstream.

K: Dwight was different.

A: He was. Dwight wasn't a definitive country artist. He was country by way of Bakersfield and Buck Owens and the Buckaroos. Dwight was the spawn of a sort of California country... a honky tonk rockabilly sound that originated in the 50s as an anecdote to the slick ‘country and western' that was oozing out of Nashville. But Dwight wasn't a traditional cross over artist either; like Kenny Rogers. With the twang in his voice and his cowboy hat sitting on his ears, Dwight was more country than the Eddie Rabbit’s and the Johnny Lee's of the world. So what was it about his music that appealed to the non-country fan in you? K: I guess it was that rockabilly sound you mentioned. I do love me some rockabilly. Always have. A: What's the difference? K: That's hard for me to answer. The only way I can explain it is like this: in Kerry-World…

“She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy” = Bad

“Turn It On Turn It Up Turn Me Loose” = Good.

A: But are they that different?

K: There's probably less difference than I'd want to admit to. I guess I expect country music to be authentic. I think Johnny Cash was authentic. Loretta Lynn seemed authentic to me. But a lot of country seems phony and staged.

A: Now I’m beginning to understand.

K: Maybe my problem with country is that it seems less fragmented as pop/rock. A lot of the time, all country music seemed lumped under the same title; and there's a lot of it I don't like, so by association, I think that I don't like country.

A: But Dwight is definitely different. And I think that’s where his ‘persona’ comes into play too.

K: When I listen to songs like “Turn It On Turn It Up Turn Me Loose” I feel like I'm listening to honesty. Dwight strikes me as an artist who performs as opposed to a performer.

A: Who is a ‘performer?’

K: Dare I type it but Garth Brooks is a performer. Shania Twain is a performer. Really good performers – but for them is seems like ‘performance’ is all that matters. In my mind, Dwight is a real singer and a great songwriter who just happens to be considered ‘country.’

A: Have you ever seen Dwight Yoakam in concert?

K: I saw Dwight in Toronto on the waterfront near the CNE grounds. He had a bad throat and the show was almost cancelled. But he went on anyway and sounded great; however you could feel he was a little put off by not being able to bring it like he normally would.

A: I find it a little hard to believe that you bought tickets to see a ‘country’ show.

K: I got free tickets through work – one of the perks of writing commercials for a country radio station. But I would have gladly paid to see him.

A: What do you want to do right now?

K: Watch ‘Slingblade’ again. 

[abrandnewkey]

Chris Isaak “Flying” A: I can remember the moment I became a Chris Isaak fan. When was that moment for you? K: I was in the minority of women who didn't love the song “Wicked Game.”

A: Really!

K: The video was amazing. And that gave the song appeal. But the song never stood alone well to me. Then you brought home a Chris Isaak CD that I really really liked.

A: “Speak of the Devil.”

K: I wouldn't consider myself an uber fan of his music but I am a huge fan of Chris Isaak in all forms. Musician. Actor. Host etc. A: Loved his TV show. And I remember we were watching TV one night. We might have been flipping through the channels and wandered past Jay Leno and The Tonight Show…

K: Leno?

A: I know we weren't watching Leno for Leno’s sake. We never did. We’re Letterman people damn it! Anyway, I was standing there getting ready to change channels or shut the TV off when Isaak started into “Please.” This was something completely different from “Wicked Game.”

K: What did you like about it?

A: The song and its story had such an incredible build – from Chris asking his significant other what the problem was (it would seem that ‘he’ was the issue) to pleading with her to feeling completely frustrated with the whole line of questioning. The song builds with energy and intensity with every verse. And that ‘build’ wasn’t something I expected from Isaak. 

K: So, based on that song, you went out and bought the album the next day?

A: I did.

K: I forgot how crazy and impetuous we were.

A: Sarcasm, right? I need a sarcasm sign.

K: I do remember that I wasn’t listening to a lot of radio then. In fact I wasn't listening to much music at all. So “Speak of the Devil” reminded me of how much music could enrich my life day-in and day-out.

A: Again, singles-girl is liking an album!

K: That whole album is great from start to finish. The songs flow. And Isaak takes ownership of every song on that album. He doesn't just sing a song – he is the song. I felt the same way when we saw his show in Vancouver. He’s funny and personable. And he puts himself into everything that he does. Does that make sense?

A: It does. What song off the album stands out to you?

K: “Flying.” The lyrics really convey that heady, amazing time at the beginning of a relationship when you are just soaring.

A: Like the chorus from “Fallin’ and Flyin’” – the song Jeff Bridges sang in “Crazy Heart.” “It’s funny how fallin’ feels like flyin...’ even for a little while.”

K: Exactly. And that feeling is carried through with his delivery right down to the backup singers whose voices sound like they are soaring. 

A: I like that. So, what’s next?

K: Well, let me ask you the question this time: Do you remember when you became a Dwight Yoakam fan?

[abrandnewkey]

Nu Shooz “I Can’t Wait”

K: I feel like I may be the only person who likes and remembers Nu Shooz and “I Can't Wait.”

A: I don’t think you are the only person who remembers it. You just might be the only one who hasn’t forgotten it!

K: It's the kind of song that you might not be able to remember on your own. But the minute you hear it, it turns into an ear worm and, good or bad, you can't get it out of your head.

A: What's interesting about listening to the song today is that there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that this is a song from the eighties. 

K: But I think it still holds up today. It's one of Abi’s favourites.

A: Remember though. We are talking about the same 7-year old daughter who went through a retro-80s German-pop phase! Why do you think a song stuck in a past decade fits into this new millennium? 

K: Other than the giveaway-guitar, I don't see it being obviously-80s. As for the song, I think sampling has broken down a lot of barriers making it a little timeless. A: You are right about sampling. Nu Shooz was on the forefront of something that would become pretty standard in the music industry. And some follow-up versions of the song included a lot more samples including stuff from Madonna. But for me the synthesizers are blatantly eighties and overtly disco. I'm just not sure if that is a good thing. K: Play Nu Shooz for your students (ranging in ages from 18-40) and ask them if “I Can’t Wait” is a new or old song. Then listen to something like Katie Perry’s “Dark Horse” and tell me that synthesizers aren’t part of today's music.

A: Synths are definitely a big part of music today. A good portion of what makes up the world of EDM is keyboard based. But there was that clear, thin sound of electronic bass and drums that dates the song. For me, “I Can’t Wait” was freestyle, watered-down, R&B-esque dance-floor fluff – even for the eighties.

(Later that same day…)

A: I took your advice. I played “I Can’t Wait” for my students. I got good news and not-as-good news:

No one thought the song was new.

The majority guessed that this was something from the mid eighties.

Some thought it sounded a little like Iggy Azalea in the beginning.

K: Interesting. I really do like the lead singer’s voice.

A: Me too.

K: And I like the clarity of the lyrics. The music is somewhat of a novelty but it can also be looked at as a unique sound.

A: Definitely a unique sound. (And I’m not being sarcastic.) The song stands out. There wasn't a whole lot like it in 1986. And although I might describe the overall sound of “I Can’t Wait” as empty pop slush, Valerie Day's voice is what truly made the tune unique. Where do you remember hearing this song the most when it first came out? In the car? At the clubs? 

K: Definitely the car and listening to Majic 102 out of Buffalo, New York. In the clubs like The Library, The Late Show and Club Exit, it was a mostly a warm up song you heard at the beginning of the night.  A: Did you re-discover the song by accident or did you search it out on purpose? K: Accidently on purpose. I was going through old downloads on the PC looking for some old favourites to put on my iPhone and dug up this patient nugget.

A: Split Enz and Crowded House aside, was Nu Shooz’s type of synth-pop-disco typical of what you were listening to in the mid-eighties?

K: I was all about top-40. That’s mostly how songs came onto my radar. I guess I wasn’t very adventurous. And to be honest, the mid-eighties were a bit of a musical desert for me. Fewer tracks blowing my hair back. Purchases were declining. A: So what is it about “I Can’t Wait” that works for you today? K: It's simple. Uncomplicated. Familiar. It’s poppy fun I can play in the car with an impressionable 7-year old who takes in everything she hears – even when you don’t think she’s listening. “I Can’t Wait” says ‘I can't wait till you call me. I can't wait to see you.’ It says ‘I like you.’

A: I like you too.

[abrandnewkey]

Crowded House “It’s Only Natural”

A: I guess the natural progression of our musical conversation needs to move on to Crowded House...

K: I'm more a fan of Crowded House albums over singles.

A: I’m surprised. I’m the album guy. You are the song-girl.

K: I think some of my favourite tracks never got airplay on radio. 

A: Which Crowded House album is your favourite?

K: I think I listened to “Temple of Low Men” the most.

A: Why?

K: I think it was probably the first Crowded House album I bought. So I played it and fell in love with it and then went out and bought their self titled debut that had come out two-years before that. I think. I don't know if it's a reflection of my age or what my life looked like at that time or the fact that I bought both of these on cassette tape that make my memory fuzzy. I just sort of remember listening to them a lot around the same time.

A: Did it make that much of a difference that you bought the cassettes rather than the vinyl?

K: Cassette tapes played fine. I liked that they were portable. But the tactile experience of the record album was lost. I enjoyed how vinyl was packaged. It added a component to the music I don't feel any other medium has been able to capture.

A: I know what you mean. I remember listening to Bruce Springsteen’s double album “The River” – sitting there reading the liner notes and looking at the collage of photos on the sleeves.  It made listening to an album more of an event.

K: Exactly. Would Pink Floyd's “The Wall” be as impactful without the artwork on the jacket and the opportunity to pour over the scratchy font liner notes as you listened to the songs? But I digress. Suffice it to say, music from Crowded House and Split Enz became the soundtrack to the most social part of my life. Neil Finn’s songs were solid and grounding.

A: For example…

K: “Love This Life,” “Into Temptation,” and “I Feel Possessed” – all from “Temple of Low Men.” And the idea of a song feeling solid and grounding was really exemplified in one of my favourites from the album, “It’s Only Natural.”

A: What makes “It’s Only Natural” stand out?

K: I think it's one of the most fun, flirty, sexy, romantic, whimsical songs ever. “It’s Only Natural” personifies what a great relationship should be. Also on the topic of romance, “Message to My Girl” is right up there too.

A: How did it feel seeing Neil Finn live in Vancouver in 2014 and hearing him sing "Message" again?

K: I've never seen a singer want to perform so much. It was a great concert and it was awesome to hear that song live.

A: Finn’s delivery is timeless. His voice doesn’t age.

K: And he was pretty engaged with the audience in a very good way. 

A: And we were engaged in everything that Neil had to share. That's one of the things I like about being an aging music fan. I think appreciation grows exponentially as you get older and you can't help but to listen closer and engage more with an artist live on stage. Obviously Neil was feeding off that energy too. So, where does A Brand New Key naturally go next?

[abrandnewkey]

Split Enz “Six Months in a Leaky Boat” K: If we are seriously going to talk about music I love, we need to talk about Split Enz / Crowded House / Neil Finn. A: So let's start with the best Split Enz song. Is it “I Got You” or “One Step Ahead” (two of my all time favourite songs) or… oh, I know… “Six Months in a Leaky Boat.”

K: “Six Months in a Leaky Boat” was my introduction to Spilt Enz.

A: I knew it!

K: When I was in grade-12, my mom bought “Time and Tide” when I was down and out with mono. I was coming out of a pretty bad time and “Six Months in a Leaky Boat” helped me define the end of that time and helped me look to a more optimistic future.

A: But what about “I Got You” or “One Step Ahead”?

K: They are high up on my rankings. But at that time, I was listening to an album rock radio station and I was actually favouring songs that didn't get mass airplay. It made music seem more personal. 

A: Did the analogy of being stuck on a sinking ship make you feel less alone knowing that other people felt the same way sometimes? K: Since I was going through such a hard time, this song was validating the experience for me. It acknowledged the way I felt. A: I'm listening to the song again right now. It was a brave opening for a 'pop' song. Very ethereal. Very dramatic. Light orchestration. Strong piano. It was not quite anything the New Zealand band had done before.

K: Top 40 radio edited the beginning. Album radio played the song in its entirety.

A: Of course. Does it make any difference to you that this was, in essence, a Tim Finn song as opposed to his brother Neil taking the lead? 

K: Traditionally, I prefer Neil Finn songs to Tim Finn songs. Tim’s music feels rougher around the edges – a little unpolished. And I feel this is true about most of the songs on “Time and Tide.” But at that time, I think the raw energy of the lyrics were more resonant of how I felt. Listen to “Dirty Creature” to see what I mean about that awkwardness. And remember that I grew up on pop music that was wrapped up in a pretty package. “Time and Tide” seemed like more of an adventure. But I don't think it could ever live up to the definition of a concept album – something that was somewhat popular in the early eighties.

A: I have to admit that I didn't listen to the lyrics that closely when the song was released in 1982. So the overall sound of the song along with Technicolor video contributed to me sort of dismissing the tune as being light and frivolous. But nothing could be further from the truth. 

K: I think there is a real depth to all the lyrics on the album. And a lot of texture musically. Like “Take a Walk” which sounds like a true marriage of a Neil song and a Tim song – even though Neil wrote it.

A: Speaking of Neil, let’s shift our focus to him next time. Where should we start?