Recession. Back to the Eighties?
Nov 23rd, 2008 | By Bock | Category: economyNow that the world’s economy has collapsed, they’re saying we’re headed back to the eighties, and I’m telling you, I won’t stand for it.
If you think I’m putting up with Adam Ant, or Duran Duran or Kenny fucking Rogers, you’re bonkers. I won’t put up with it. Imagine having to live through another decade of Depeche Mode, Sheena Easton and — for fucksake — Enya. Enya! Jesus Christ, I’d rather wear a built-up shoe. Enya and Chris de fucking Burgh.
No, I tell you. Absolutely not.
No fucking way.
I can probably live with Ultravox and Spandau Ballet. I’ll be happy to welcome back the Bangles and Debbie Harry. I’ll be delighted to see the rebirth of Aztec Camera, the Clash, Talking Heads and the Psychedelic Furs. I can accommodate Belinda Carlisle, 
Tracey Chapman and Guns ‘n’ Roses, but if you produce the Commodores or Howard Jones in front of me I’ll fucking shoot them dead on the spot. D’you hear? Dead.
And while you’re at it, you can keep Culture Club away from me as well or I’ll mow them down like the dogs they are.
Paddy McAloon I can accept and Matt Johnson. Likewise Eddy Grant, Joe Jackson and Nick Lowe. But under no circumstances should anyone walk up to me and say Bock, I’d like you to meet my friend, Phil Collins.
On the other hand, I’ll be very grateful if you introduce me to the sublime Sade Adu, for whom I would crawl over red-hot coals. You may also bring the following to our party: Madness, UB40, Chrissie Hynde, The Specials, The Beat and Elvis Costello (who never really went away anyhow).
I won’t actually attack Van Halen or Thomas Dolby, but they will have to wait outside if that’s all right. I will attack the Bee Gees.
You may also bring Queen and ZZ Top but not those ludicrous bastards, Toto.
I could think of many more if I had the time, but there are one or two other matters I need to mention.
No Dallas. No Dynasty. No Knots fucking Landing.
Yes to Hill Street Blues, MacGyver, and the Young Ones. Yes to Minder.
For sheer cheesiness, we’ll have to include TJ Hooker and the original Galactica but that’s about it. I’m not a big television fan.
No big hair, no shoulder pads, no white suits, no 
dodgy moustaches, no creased flares, no frilly shirts.
And finally, perhaps the most important point of all.
No home brew!
_______________________________
What about some music of the eighties to cheer us up?
If I blow up the Marriot and rebuild the old Savoy would you agree to having the eighties back?
Blowing things up is very Eighties, so it would be like a kind of statement in itself. A clever post-ironic proto-destructuralist commentary on the praxis and angst of the zeitgeist.
The lovely Howard Jones is at the Southcourt this Dec. Dinner/Dance????? Mighty Midge Ure doing same on a different night! Times are tough!
Yes: Spitting Image, pirate radio, Pat Ingoldsby, relatively unscripted chat shows, Today Tonight, people selling baked potatoes in the street, a choice of evening newspapers in Dublin.
No: Mullets, nuclear war paranoia, Karate aftershave gift sets, Rapid Roulette.
Heh! I agree with just about all of it, but you’re chancing it big time there with the inclusion of Sade. It’s okay, I’m all for it, but we both know it ain’t for the music, Bockaloo. (That said, the lyrical profundity of the overtly Cartesian aspects of much of Sade’s subtext, the strikingly emotive stream of consciousness and a definitive monarchist paradigm within the shift of a right-wing Thatcherite mise en scene of the early- to mid eighties is patently there for all to see. I mean, Your love is King? Bleedin’ obvious, innit!
Chrissie Hynde and no mobile phones in the pub I am heading back right away
No Toto? How can you say that when they proved so prophetic – love isn’t always on time.
So sage. So wise. Toto knew, man. Ludicrous bastards they may have been, but Toto knew.
Mapstew — Aaaarrrgggghhhh!! It’s worse than I realised.
Boggle — I agree with everything you say except the newspapers. I couldn’t give a flying fuck what happens in Dublin.
Nick — Of course it’s not for the music. What right-thinking, red-blooded man wouldn’t run away with Sade there and then, if asked?
Fan — Back to the future? Great. Let me know how you get on with Chrissie’s imagination.
Mr Trousers — Toto? Ridiculous shower of fucking bastards.
Joe dolce, the boogles, tiffany, shaken stevens and kim wilde yes, oh jesus yes to kim and tiffany maybe they could do a duet or something together for me. John the man frawley, brendan shine and the nuns that taught would all be shot on sight the 3 above mentioned made my school days hell. John the man gets special mention for his miserable morning radio show that my ma and da just fucking loved. Wash your hair and comb your face my hole
just back from the 80’s a pile of shite, the only thing going for it was the long hot summers of 83 and 84
Bock! Once again, my Hero! You nailed it!
Give that man an Eighties-Done Gun Salute!
…one helpful suggestion:
Creem This: A great way to celebrate an end to shit posing as music would be with the demise of the Biggest Soul-sucking Advertisement-still-posing-as-a-real-music-magazine, the once-respected, formerly artistic, but current waste of reality still pretending to be:
Rolling Stone Magazine (Look! We’re smaller now – with even less music content! And even more ads – for shit No One needs!) Boy, Howdy!
~Stumps don’t lie… and even saplings agree: If you Must Destroy in order to Create, then Create Knowledge – Not Shit!
Saw Jim Diamond in a pub in limerick giving away freebies for his gig cos he knew he was shite.
I hate the smell of polyester in the morning.
*I much prefer napalm.
Heard Tony Hadley singing on the box last week – never liked him back then but by fuck has he got a voice now…
Brilliant…
Oh Bock! You Smooth Operator! Even with your Psycho Killer ways, you mean more to me than Vienna..
Ory — Joe Dolce? Whatsamatter you?
Fan — Ah now, come on. Try to be more positive.
Maury — I’d agree with you if I knew what the fuck you were talking about.
Mule Taker — Jim Diamond. Jesus Christ we’re scraping the barrel here.
Poobah — Damn. Forgot movies. Great movies. Thanks for the reminder.
Snookertony — He was always a great singer, in my opinion. True was fucking brilliant.
Glitterkitty — Thanks. You’re very kind.
thanks for the laugh, and er, the memories.
A point if you name the quiz show:
“pass – Africa 7″
Hiya Bock you can send me back to the eighties if you want. Mmm Dire Straits music and the refreshing thought of a much needed affordable day out in the local drinking eighties priced beer.
Where in the world , Artyeva.
But, Kajagoogoo folks, don’t ever forget Kajagoogoo, and I know it’s spelt correctly cause I just googoogoogled it
Yeah, you’re that Christopher Lloyd character from Back to the Future, aren’t you? And Parkenstein is that Michael J Fox fellah, isn’t he? And I bet you’ve got a DeLorean in your shed, don’t you?
Right, fire it up and warp-drive us out of this mess!
I’m letting the mullet grow back in, on the look out for a pin-stripe shirt and some red suspenders but I plan on bringing my own music. I’ll settle for late seventies or early ninties but I’m not listening to any New Romantic bullshit. Duran Duran can go to hell.
Perhaps I’ll buy some Cure or Smiths 8-tracks but that’s all the concessions I’m prepared to make.
HGF — You’re welcome
Artyeva — I don’t know.
Tommyalltalk — On eighties wages?
Sniffle — I deliberately didn’t mention them.
Conan — I have a lot of things in my shed, but no DeLorean, unfortunately. If I look carefully, there might be an old Ford Anglia though.
M’sieur le Craic — The Cure and the Smiths? That should cheer you up.
Bock, I saw Bjorn Again, last week in the sates, (I am a Yank) and they put on a great Abba show. So I want to bring them and Billy Idol to the party. Bjorn Again will be in Dublin in December. No need to dress eighties, just go and have a good time. Or don’t.
The old Anglia …I remember it well…blue..ITI-12
I still reckon Roberst Smith and Morissey are less depressing than Lenihan and Cowen.
Which makes me think, we’ll see Charlie boy again! Maybe this time we can fuck him up good and proper.
Good lord, even better. Confess, you are Mr. Weasly and you work at the Ministry of Magic!
Sniffle.Tell the truth.You didn’t google Kaja…
You copied it off the album you’re listening to.
Still like Lloyd Cole though.
TJ Hooker – Now that brings me back – fond memories of Heather Locklear and the way she wielded that truncheon
Bad Manners also at the Southcourt this Dec.!!
As are the latest incarnation of………………
The Bay City Rollers!
Fuck Sake!
That should be some week, eh Bock? Eh? Bock?, ….. someone give him a wet flannel!