Being In The World of Duran

 I have been asked what, exactly, what is it that Duran Duran does for me? The answer is complex, because being a Duranie often means so much more than enjoying the music, though that in itself is a significant experience. I believe that I speak for many Duranies when I describe being in the world of Duran Duran as something of a safe place to be; not unlike the feeling of belonging in a spiritual home.

 With the 80s came a sense of excitement with newness. New bands and new sounds were embraced, analyzed, scrutinized, and picked apart by us children and teenagers who sought the perfect form of art to define our own senses of being. Being an adolescent is a difficult time and we were ready to be swept off our feet and allow music and art to be our safe place. Duran Duran sought us out,  took us by storm, and became that very place.

 We had never heard anything like it before. It resonated with us on a level that we never knew existed and it became that safe place in both sight and sound that we could hide inside. Seeing videos, hearing songs, internalizing the art associated with different songs, and collecting memorabilia all became an experience in itself, materializing into an escape of sorts. When things in life went bad, we could tune in and duck inside, even if just for a while, and things didn't seem so bad for the time being. I tend to think of the experience of safety as an invisible cloak of comfort, activated with a magic that only Duran Duran can conjure.

 Years later, Duranies can hear a Duran Duran song, or spot a picture of the band, or somehow otherwise experience a Duran Duran memory, and a piece of these Duranies will go back and touch on a bit of the safe place that was built back in the mid-80s. Here we are, 30-some years later, and the resonating sound of Duran Duran, both old and new, still takes us back to that adolescent time where the core of us was unsure and worried, but the familiar cloak of Duran safety would give our shoulder a slight squeeze for assurance.

 There is one place, however, that instead of us stepping back into a piece of that Duran era, a piece of that Duran era is brought to us.

 I have mentioned in previous posts my friend, Durandy (aka Andrew Golub,) and his amazing collection of Duran Duran memorabilia that he refers to as "The Archives." Anyone who has experienced Duranieism the way I described above would experience the incredible rush of the Duran world if they should ever visit Durandy's amazing collection. During my visits to The Archive, I have experienced a wide variety of emotions ranging from laughter to tears. Looking through posters, magazine clippings, pins, books, etc., I relived my walk through my life as a Duranie, remembering where I was at certain times when I heard this song, bought that album, or wore a Duran Duran T-shirt. Many hours of my life vanished in a matter of minutes there as I allowed the essence of Duran Duran to consume my very being as it had many years ago.

 Durandy has been very generous to open up his world to many who wish to share in it, but of course, because of the volume of Duranies there are in the world, it is impossible to invite them all inside. This is unfortunate, because this is something that all deserving Duranies should be able to experience.

 However, Durandy very cleverly took a piece of the magic from his archives to share with Duranies around the world by placing it in a book. Made out of a labor of love, his book, "Beautiful Colors (The Posters of Duran Duran)," is an adventure through time starting with the very earliest promotional posters on to the present. Each page is splashed with color and love, containing the very magic that can bring Duranies to the safe place carved out of our adolescence with the music and art that resonated with us Duranies in the most intimate of ways. "Beautiful Colors" transports us through past and present, taking us through our own personal journeys as the band itself is chronicled through its varying images over time. It is a journey that all deserving Duranies should take.


Beautiful Colors (The Posters of Duran Duran)

 Living and loving in the Duran world does something wonderful for me. Something close to sacred. I grow strong in the present while taking comfort in the familiarity of the band that I have loved for a long time. "Beautiful Colors" is a glowing example of the way Duranies can do just that. As I said before, being in the world of Duran is not unlike the feeling of belonging in a spiritual home.

 Not unlike...

a New Religion.

Breaking

 There was a piece of the 80s that exploded into something HUGE at one point, but you really don't hear about it any more. This, of course, was the breakdance. Originally known from the early 70s as b-boying, or breaking, this dance consisted of amazing skills that gave the illusion of gliding, flying, and contorting the body as young dancers flipped and spun about with apparent effortless ease.

 Elitists of the dance will insist on calling it "b-boying" and that the term "breakdancing" is sacrilegious. I, however, think of that tiny era of 83-84 as breakdancing when suddenly everyone wanted to learn a move, to show off on a piece of cardboard on the playground like the guys in parachute pants on Night Tracks. The elitists can call the dance whatever they want for the time before and after that era. But let's leave the "breakdance" title for that particular time. After all, do the serious dancers REALLY want to associate their sacred image with the funky outfits of 83-84? Really?

 This is the bit of time where the news was suddenly filled with stories of young dancers who were "breakdancing" their way to the hospital because they were doing advanced moves that they were not ready for. "Breakdancing" was suddenly associated with broken limbs and joints, and the question was raised whether this fad dance should be banned, but those who loved watching and participating in the dance defended it passionately. In the end, it was determined that this dance, like any other dance, is dangerous only when those who practice it attempt moves that they are not physically ready for.

   This craze during that era was the blip on the radar screen that caught my attention and made me ask the one kid in my class who knew breakdancing if he could teach me a few cool moves. After a full minute, he was done trying to manipulate my awkward moves into anything cool, but we both got a good laugh out of it, which made the whole dance lesson worth it! Since then, I have been content to leave the breaking to the pros.

Got It On!

 What do you do when a band changes a member for a different one? Do you welcome the new sound they bring to the music, or do you pine for the original? Are you conflicted if they are both good?

 The point of my entry today is about, of course, Power Station. 

 And many of you are saying, "Who?"

 Duran Duran was at its peak in 1984-85, when the world of Duranies was suddenly shaken up from two of its members stepping out into a new music project; Power Station.

 What? 

We tuned in, hoping that John Taylor and Andy Taylor's influence would have this new group sounding like, well, more Duran Duran. It didn't, but us faithful Duranies were very quick forgivers. Power Station's music sounded fabulous and fun so we were in!

 So, there were John and Andy. The rest of the band included Robert Palmer and Tony Thompson. 

Who and Who?

Well, the teen heartthrob magazines assured us that they were cool fellas, Palmer being an established musician who worked in bands many of us Duranies had never heard before but we recognized his amazing hand in influence, and Thompson, also a seasoned musician, whose music many of us Duranies "grew up" to, but he wasn't old enough to be... like... well, old. That was good enough for us. Palmer and Thompson were making music with a couple of gods in training so what they did was GOLD. 

 The sun was shining on me the day I learned that Power Station was touring and doing Live Aid in the process. What Bop and Star Hits failed to inform me was that there was a slight change in the band member lineup. 

 So there they were at Live Aid, just weeks before I was to see them in Seattle myself. There they were; John Taylor, Andy Taylor, Tony Thompson and Michael Des Barres. 

 Wait. And who?

 Where was Robert Palmer? Surely Tiger Beat should have mentioned something to the effect that Palmer was doing his own solo thing now and didn't want to tour with Power Station and they had to replace him? I wasn't sure that a switch like this without informing me was even, well, legal!

 But who could replace the sexy so-cool-he's-hot Palmer? Who would DARE?!?

 Well, Des Barres. 

 That's who!

 He came on, not trying to be Palmer, but being himself. That was all that was needed. Palmer did a bang-up job in the recording studio, super-cramming sexy into the grooves of vinyl, but Des Barres made it his own and brought it all to life in the concert experience. What he lacked in Palmer's cool he made up for in HOT! 

 August 1, 1985, he went and did it again in Seattle. I know, I was there. 

 So, what do you do when a band changes a member for a new one? In this case, both lead singers did extremely well with what they were there for. I am content with the Power Station experience both on and off the vinyl. Although the need for a replacement was unfortunate, their choice was an excellent one and I am very glad both Palmer and Des Barres now have their foot prints embedded on the Duran map.  

  

Happy I'm Back Day

 It's been a long recess but I am happy to be back to make new posts for Bleached Bangs!

 Every now and then, a forgotten song will suddenly appear, whether it's at a store, a newly uncovered cassette that you don't ever remember existing, or a radio station would have a small hiccup and play something other than the same five songs that are repeated throughout the day, and most people would say, "Where did THAT come from?" while a few 80s nerds will say, "Oh yeah! I hated that song but it's cool to hear it now!"

 Guess which category I tend to fall in.

 One such time that this happened was a couple of months ago. I am active on Twitter and I follow various celebrities. When my birthday rolls around, I tweet various celebrities and cheekily ask them to Tweet me a "Happy Birthday." While most Tweeters get a large volume of Tweets and do not see my request (I like to think that this is the case. The alternative would be that they are ignoring me) I do get some sweet acknowledgements. (So far, John Taylor has been too overloaded with Tweets to respond to me.)

 One kind acknowledgement came from comedian Rob Paravonian (Pachelbel Rant guy. Find him on YouTube.) His kind response was "'Happy Birthday, happy birthday!' sung to the Altered Images tune."

 Altered Images? Happy Birthday? Who is Altered Images? What was I to do but to seek it on YouTube?

 "Happy Birthday," it turns out, is one of those songs that you either have never heard of, or you have heard it once, forgotten it, and then it just kind of strangely appears back into existence. Rob Paravonian is the kind of person with a rare sort of special who actually knows it enough to refer it to somebody else.

  And so, this rare sort of special has been passed on to me.

 And now it is yours too. You're welcome!

High Standing Zeroes

I am not much of a religious person but have always been very spiritual. Though my ideas have changed much over the years, there are some fundamental beliefs that have always been solidly true for me.

One such belief is that it's the little things in life that make up the big things and not the other way around. There are many big and important people with their expensive things but who made them big and important? It's the little people. The people with less. The people who go unnoticed. The zeroes of society.

Without these people the big people are nothing.

This is a common theme found in many religions, though I have found that many religious people do not practice this little detail. There are many of those who are more inclined to step on those smaller than themselves in society in order to reap the riches of wealth and fame. We all know people like this so we won't focus on them.

Who we will focus on are people who understand the value of appreciating and loving the zeroes of society; people who live their lives making the first last and the last first. Those who are wonderful because they themselves are zeroes who bring others up.

These are people who feel rich when the zeroes are singing for them.

Peace Bows Without Arrows

My blog about 80s music describes, in small snippets of posts, a large part of who I am. Who I am has a lot to do with those who have influenced me over the years. One such person is Buffy Sainte Marie, which puts me in a bit of a dilemma. You see, I have been wanting, for some time now, to include her in my blog but, to the best of my knowledge, she did not release any new music in the 80s.

But I got around that.

Buffy, in a large way, helped shape me in my childhood, instilling social values that I carried with me through my teen years through the 80s, allowing me to pass them on to my own children in my adulthood today. Did her influence relate to some of the music I listened to as a child of the 80s? You bet it did.

Buffy Sainte Marie is a Canadian Cree folksinger/songwriter who has always taken a strong stand for social justice and peace for all.

When I was very little, all that I knew about "Indians" was what I saw in old westerns on TV. This meant that Indians, to me, were hard-faced meanies who never smiled and mindlessly shot good people dead with arrows.

Then, one day in 1976, a pretty lady appeared on Sesame Street and called herself an "Indian." She smiled frequently and talked about feelings and getting along. I was skeptical of her being a real Indian. When she brought out her bow, my heart sunk down into my Hush Puppies. Now I knew she was a real Indian because she had a bow. I feared she would use to shoot arrows at my beloved Sesame Street family.

Instead of being a hard-faced meanie, though, she put the end of the bow in her mouth and made... a twanging noise. And she sang with the bow in her mouth while making the twanging noise. Being only 4, I didn't recognize the twanging as music, but I did understand that it wasn't threatening and that Big Bird was not about to be some big Indian dinner.

That was my first bit of understanding that movies do not always portray real life, mean people on TV sometimes aren't always mean, some people who come from strange and different backgrounds can be wonderful, and we all share many of the same feelings and experiences of life, regardless of the hue of one's skin.

For the next five years, this pretty lady took me on a journey of learning empathy for the next person and looking for ways to remove hurt feelings. Then, in 1981, she left the show and let go of my PBS-educated hand to leave the spotlight for a decade. But I was okay with that. She left me keeping an ear open for songs dealing with equality, peace, and awareness of human injustice. Such songs that covered these topics include "People Are People" by Depeche Mode, "True Colors" by Cindy Lauper, "Don't Need A Gun" by Billy Idol, and "We Are The World" by USA For Africa.

Although Buffy was out of sight for a while, she was not idle. Among her social activism and caring for her son, she co-wrote music. One of her most popular pieces was "Up Where We Belong" sung my Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes in 1982, graced with Buffy's native Cree images of nature and spirituality combined.

In 1996, Buffy released an album with the same name. I am unsure at what point in time this version was recorded, but it carries an essence of who I have always been.

Repeated Blahs... Except For That One

Much of my experience with 1987 was that there was a lot of music that all the popular radio stations played repeatedly until your ears bled but, for the life of me, the appeal for them did not resonate with me. Much of it I hated. Most of it I would not have minded much and probably would have enjoyed on a certain level if the radio stations and music video programs didn't slather it on like wall paper that posted the lyrics to "This Is The Song That Never Ends."

My 8th grade math teacher allowed us to listen to music while we worked. He had a radio tuned to a popular station, which I would have enjoyed more if that station did not play the same handful of mildly good to semi-hideous songs day after day; sometimes a song or two would be played twice within the hour. But, naturally, there were exceptions. There always are.

But there was one song that I did not mind the repeated plays. It was beautiful, sad, romantic, and sounded very different from the other songs. "Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House hit the US charts that year, enabling me to sit through my math class without throwing my math teacher's radio out the stupid window. I would gaze at the cute boy sitting in front of me and zone into my own world, dreaming all a blessed-well wanted to. Sometimes, all it takes is a song to make things all right again.

 

EO and Beyond

My family recently went to Disneyland. I had visited the park a few times in my life. I am reminded of one of those times when I was 16 and had the wonderful opportunity to watch a cutting edge 3-D film starred by Michael Jackson. It was rather sweet.

Although this was past Jackson's "Thriller" peak, he definitely left his moonwalk footprint on the Disney threshold.

This feature was yanked from the Disney theme parks in the mid-90s when Jackson faced some shady accusations, but was put back in the parks in 2010 after Jackson's death a year earlier. Although my family didn't watch this feature, I am glad that Jackson's tainted reputation did not permanently deprive park-goers from his dancing and singing talents.

Good-Good

One band that I enjoyed immensely was the Go-Gos. It just had this very upbeat feel that makes one think of pink toenail polish, overlarge plastic earrings, and bubblegum all wrapped up in a sexy spangled bow.

The Go-Gos was an all-female band with Belinda Carlisle as their lead singer. After a few years of success, Belinda left the band for a solo career. Although she has been quite successful as a solo singer, I don't know, I simply enjoyed her work better in the Go-Gos. It just felt more complete to me. Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike her music, it just sounds very much the same as many of the other female singers of the time and it doesn't have that unique zest that the Go-Gos completed as a unit.

But to those who like her music, more power to you. I'll just be stuck in 1984 on this one.

Believing In Lost Treasure

The further away we drift from the 80s the more we leave behind. This is even more true for the 60s.

In the mid 60s, there was an adorable made-for-TV-rock-band called The Monkees made up of Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork. Their episodes played out in the style of The Beatles movies with silly plots, dumb-but-cute jokes, and their music woven in.

They reunited in the mid 80s, making some new music while MTV played reruns of their 60s TV show. MTV is how I became aware of these living dolls.

Today we lost Davy Jones, aged 66, to a heart attack. I find it interesting that he should leave us on a leap year. Perhaps it was because he was so full of life and love that he wants his fans to mourn for him only once every four years and then spend the rest of our time remembering him Monkee around.

Ah........SOOOOOOOOOOME!

One of my favorite films from the 80s is Flash Gordon. I LOVE it! All of it!

I saw it for the first time on HBO when I was in the third grade. My brothers tuned in to it and I thought, "Another dumb guy movie," but decided to watch anyway. I'm glad that I did.

My eyes feasted on the sci-fi adventure with the erotic costumes while my ears were equally aroused by the soundtrack made generously by Queen.

Okay, a couple of years later, I was able to see that the acting was bad, the special effects cheap, and the dialogue cheesy, but that was still all small potatoes compared to the overall awesomeness from beginning to end! It's still a definite high point in 80s films for me and worthy of the label of a "cult classic."

Always Forgetting It's Not New

Yes, another post about remakes. All too often, a remake comes out, causing the latest generation to think it's a brand new song.

I remember in the early 9os, DC Talk remade the 1970s hit from The Doobie Brothers, "Jesus Is Just Alright." While I was listening to the Doobie version, a young teen friend lamented that "the original from DC Talk" was better than this. Yes, he was serious. Yes, you bet I set him straight!

"Always On My Mind," originally a country music song from the early 1970s, is a beautiful song that has graced the airwaves over the years by several different artists.

My favorite to date is by The Pet Shop Boys. Call me stuck in the 80s, but I love the trademark synthesizer sound that dominated the decade and the way it carried the song along with it.

I also thought it was funny how many of my friends at the time believed it to be a brand new song. Apparently, they had forgotten that Willie Nelson remade it famous only five years previous to the PSB release. Ironic, considering the name of the song...

A View To A Roof

Various songs can bring about certain memories.

Some songs take me back to when my folks decided to have the roof redone. Exciting, yes?

This was done during an incredibly warm summer in my youth. These very hot guys came over to work on our roof. They came to spend several days working on our roof. Did I mention that they were hot?

Incidentally, this was the perfect time of summer for me to spend long hours tanning in the backyard. It just happened to work out that I could survey their... progress.

I mentioned that they were hot, right?

Anyways, they worked for several days on the roof. They tended to spend a significant amount of time on the side where I happened to be. I guess the south side needed a lot of attention.

They also talked to each other and I could hear much of the conversations. They talked about girls, cars, girls, sports, girls, work, girls... Oh well. At least they were hot.

After some days of this, their conversation turned to music. My ears went *perk!* Talk of music is always worth overhearing. They mentioned several bands that I enjoyed until...

Someone mentioned Duran Duran. Someone else chimed in that Duran Duran was all a bunch of **** (rhymes with tags.) This was followed with mutterings of agreement.

It was at this point that I figured I had tanned enough for the time being. After all, it was tedious listening in on a bunch of mediocre-looking guys with crummy taste in music. I went inside.

I then went into my room, opened my window wide, and blared my Duran Duran music. Every day for the remaining time that they had to spend on my roof I gave them a generous dose of Duran Duran through my open window. The roof was completed very quickly after that. I'm glad I was able to help quicken the task.

Odd Medicine

I like a bit of oddness; hence my fascination and adoration for 80s music.

The Thompson Twins: A band consisting of three artists; none of the members are twins and none of them go by Thompson.

It doesn't matter. They made some memorable music worth mentioning.

Must... Eat... Dots...

A huge part of the whole 80s experience was arcade video games. Video arcades were often very large store-sized with standing room only due to the zillions of games and the even larger number of people waiting in lines to use them.

I am guilty of donating enough quarters to buy a small country by laser-blasting dragons in "Dig-dug," saving galaxy space in "Asteroids," dodging barrels from a gorilla in "Donkey Kong," beef-smacking fried eggs in "Burger Time," eating dots in a maze in "Pac-Man," and other ridiculous tasks that seemed like a good idea to do at the time. I was quite good at many of the games and often better than my guy friends, who tended to spend more time playing video games than the girls did.

Well, as we know, whenever there is something of interest going on, someone writes a song about it. Jerry Buckner & Gary Garcia did just that by devoting an entire album to songs about the most famous video arcade games at the time, using sounds from the actual games.

Their most famous, "Pac-Man Fever," hit the airwaves in 1982 and us video game zealots appreciated it dearly. Then, just as quickly as it came, the song, the album, Buckner and Garcia, went to the same decade dumpster as parachute pants, Wacky-Wall-Walkers, and Urkel.

Gone, but not forgotten...

Don't Come Around Here Without A Visual

On their own, some songs just don't do it. Sometimes it takes the magic of a music video to make it, at the very least, interesting.

When I first heard Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers' song, "Don't Come Around Here No More," I was rather unmoved. Okay, I hated it, and could not for the life of me understand why someone would care to hear it more than once, yet radio stations kept playing it so MANY someones must have liked it. I just was not among those someones.

MTV eased my confusion, however, and I understood the appeal. The Heartbreakers' unusual take on "Alice in Wonderland" was creepy, captivating, amusing, and, let's face it, it complimented the song.

Dokked

Although I have never been much of a fan of hard rock, there are always exceptions. I do enjoy bands such as Twisted Sister, Scorpion, and Def Leopard. I also tend to like just one or two songs from various hard rock bands.

For the most part, music from Dokken is not something I care for, but "In My Dreams" resonated with me and I was disappointed with it's short-lived air time on both the radio and MTV.

I think it's the harmonized voices that grabbed my attention.

P-P-Please Don't!

Some of the fossils from the 80s are better left forgotten and buried under the remains of failed musical experiments. Leave it to me to dredge them back up.

Max Headroom. If you remember the name you will hate me for reminding you.

Max Headroom was a commercial icon for Coca-Cola. He was a computer generated entity (actually he was a guy in a plastic mask whose image was highlighted by computer graphics) who stuttered and wise-cracked from his computer screen. Max became a popular sensation and was even granted his own short-lived TV show.

Synth band, Art Of Noise, thought it would be a good idea to use Max Headroom in a song. I'm sure it sounded like a good idea at the time, just like the time someone said, "Let's make Mr. T cereal!" Hence, "Paranoimia" was born.

Two Nights In Bangkok

Who's into musicals? I do like some musicals. Some are rich in original music from beginning to end. Others, however, tend to have one great song and a bunch of filler songs that unremarkablly sound the same.

Chess tends to fall into the latter category. I have never seen Chess but a friend once lent me the soundtrack on cassette. Other than the famous "One Night In Bangkok" I was given no inspiration to watch the story that went with the music.

The first time I heard "One Night In Bangkok" was a version sung by Robey:



Shortly after Robey graced the airwaves with this hit, Murray Head's version was released and Robey, sadly, was forgotten by many listeners.



Both versions are catchy and fun. Too bad that song is the only awe-inspiring piece in the soundtrack but neither versions can hold up an entire musical. Otherwise, many of you would not be wondering now, "Really? There's a musical called Chess?"

Autumn Chills

I love this time of year. I love autumn and the American Halloween decorations. As far as decorations go, though, I'm not so much into the gory-bloody stuff, like plastic corpses and severed hands. I prefer the spooky and semi-cute stuff like glow-in-the-dark ghosts and battery-operated light-up haunted houses.

But as for videos, I love the creepy-gory every bit as much as the spooky-cute, and you can bet your last shoulder pad that some totally rad creepy videos came from the 80s. Here's a couple of my favorites:






Naturally, this is a very short list of the wonderful and spooky videos from the 1908s. I invite my tubular readers to list your own.