Waxing Nostalgic: The Fixx, “Cameras In Paris”

By Jeffery X Martin

If any band was helping Eighties kids dance their way into oblivion, it was London’s The Fixx. Dance-oriented music with serious gloom and doom lyrics, The Fixx was the great combo meal of the decade. Worried about global politics and the possible annihilation of the self within an existential context? You’ll love The Fixx. Want to dance all night to some sweet bass licks and driving, sparkling synths? You’ll love The Fixx.

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New Country for Old Men: Florida Georgia Line, “Cruise”

By Jeffery X Martin

Country music is all fucked up right now, a hat-wearing mass of contradictions, suffering from multiple personalities, trying to please all the people, all the time, and straying so far from its roots that hearing traditional country on the air anymore is a miracle. Country rap is on the rise, as are guitar riffs and bass lines that would have been giant hits as hair metal songs during the Eighties. It’s hard to even define country anymore, and if you think it is all sad trains and dogs and singlewide trailers and Mama in the rain, you haven’t listened to country in a long time. There are still novelty songs floating around, catchy like West Nile virus, the equivalent of waiting until the rest of the family is in bed before eating that box of donuts on the counter. Now the genre is showing a disturbing amount of culture appropriation, including all the misandry and misogyny found in some rap and R&B music. There’s a lot of shit out there, and finding a jewel among the turds is not an easy task.

And I’m saying this as a fan.

As much as there are terrible things in country music right now that need to be called out, the good songs also need to be recognized and praised. That’s about as close to a mission statement as you’ll get from me, and that’s what this new column is going to strive to do: separate the horrendous stinking crap from the finely crafted good songs and sparkling production Nashville has been known for since . . . well, since Buck Owens started recording in Bakersfield.

I told you country music was full of contradictions.

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Waxing Nostalgic: The Call, “Oklahoma”

By Jeffery X Martin

The Call was one of those Eighties bands that almost made it. They had a decently large fanbase, but they just never quite caught on. Most people know their biggest hit, “I Still Believe,” better from that scene in The Lost Boys, where it is performed by saxophonist/body-builder Tim Cappello. [That fuckin’ guy. All greased up and shiny in the firelight, like a Rob Liefeld comic come to veiny life.]

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Music Review: Various Artists, A Classic Rock Salute to The Doors: Light My Fire

By Jeffery X Martin

It’s one of those burning musical questions, the kind of thing that keeps you up at night, losing sleep. What exactly would it sound like if a bunch of classic rock artists covered the songs of a classic rock band they were never members of? It’s a staggering premise, to be sure. I mean, is that even legal? Won’t that push the limits of rockitude past its previously agreed upon limits?

Short answer: no, it won’t. The good news is, it doesn’t completely suck.

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Never Get Off the Boat: X Goes to Las Vegas, Part Two

By Jeffery X Martin

Part One

My name is X. I write all the time. I don’t get out much. So when I got the opportunity to go to Las Vegas, I jumped on it, hoping to have a good time and gain some new experiences.

Well, what happens in Vegas can stay in Vegas for all I care.

If you asked a poor white kid where a rich person lives, he or she would draw you a picture of The Bellagio.

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Waxing Nostalgic: The Cure, The Same Deep Water As You

By Jeffery X Martin

Some real wrist-cutting music came out in the Eighties. Gloom and doom, Reagan and Bush, annihilation from without and within; if you weren’t depressed and suicidal, you weren’t paying attention. The fact that anyone made it through the Eighties alive is a testament to how good Full House really was. That’s the only reason we stayed around. We put the blades down long enough to watch Full House, laugh for a few minutes, and when the show was over, we picked the pretty sharps back up and prayed for the cold hands of death to take us away from the living nightmare of suburbia.

If you were to take a poll of Eighties Survivors and ask them what the most depressing album of the decade was, a strong contender for that top spot would be Disintegration by The Cure.

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Music Review: Young Widows, Easy Pain

By Jeffery X Martin

Imagine being thrown through a fortieth story window. Hear that rush of wind in your ears, the whistling and howling blotting out everything but your own panicked shrieks, your clothing ripping and flapping in the wind, pounding out a flat parachute rhythm as you continue to plummet, a failed bird, picking up speed, the ground rushing towards you (or vice versa) and even if you aren’t precisely sure where you’re landing, you know it’s going to be hard and it’s going to hurt. There’s nothing to do but resign yourself to it, embrace it, and let whatever happens happen.

That description fairly accurately echoes the first sixty seconds of Easy Pain by Louisville band Young Widows. There are still nine more songs to go.

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Waxing Nostalgic: New Wave Songs About Sex

By Jeffery X Martin

In the Eighties, the Reagans told everyone to just say no, but our musical heroes were blatantly advising us to say “yes” as often as possible. Who do you think was more fun to listen to: Nancy Reagan or Terri Nunn?

Exactly.

Here then, in ascending order, are my favorite New Wave songs about sex.

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Never Get Off the Boat: X Goes to Las Vegas, Part One

By Jeffery X Martin

My name is X. I write all the time. I don’t get out much. So when I got the opportunity to go to Las Vegas, I jumped on it, hoping to have a good time and gain some new experiences.

Well, what happens in Vegas can stay in Vegas for all I care. (more…)

Waxing Nostalgic: Dead Kennedys, “Insight”

By Jeffery X Martin

The Dead Kennedys were one of the most famous punk bands of the Eighties. Formed in San Francisco in 1978, The DKs were also one of the most outspokenly political bands, each song like a sandwich board. They found their arch-nemesis in President Ronald Reagan and his administration and they poked through the hypocrisies that abounded in that hellish decade, demanding a return to integrity and the simple act of telling the truth.

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