“Turn Up the Radio” by Autograph was a party mainstream when I was stationed in Germany in the late 1980s. Drinking guys were fond of gathering in a circle and belting the song out. (At least my circle of military buddies followed this practice, to the dismay of neighbors.)
“Turn Up the Radio” was made for that activity. The lyrics were simple, and the backing music and rhythms begged for a power sing-along. Other than that one song, learned off the radio and at parties, I knew and know nothing about Autograph.
Do you have daily theme music, or music that highlights an activity?
My daily theme music is often a reflection of a momentary lapse of reason, or a thought in the nick of time. Themes vary through the day, though, mirroring moods and events. Sometimes I find myself with the themes from the television series “Mission Impossible” or “Sanford and Son” in my head.
The smoke levels dropped today. The A.Q.I. remains listed as unhealthy, but it seems much clearer and more comfortable. The air temp was a comfortable seventy-six F under partly cloudy skies. That allowed me to walk in comfort.
I wrote in my head as I walked around town (actually designing the Epitomy, the starship serving as base in “Black Dust”). Bonnie Tyler’s song, “Holding Out For A Hero,” accompanied my thoughts. The song was in a movie you might have seen, “Footloose,” in nineteen eighty-four, but it’s been used for multiple campaigns. Bonnie puts a lot into singing the song, which was written by the talented Dean Pritchford.
I could use a hero this year, not just in my novels, but in life. Maybe I just place an ad: “Wanted: principled individual to save the world.”
The stream flowed into nineteen eighty-four, and the prophetic song, “Round and Round,” by Ratt. “What goes around, comes around. Dig.”
I was young when I encountered this. Working as the NCOIC of the 9AF Reports Section, I daily briefed the 9AF Commander and his senior staff on the preceding day’s operational activities. We were part of the now defunct Tactical Air Command, supervising fighter wings. 9AF included the area east of the Mississippi in the U.S., and Southwest Asia, often referred to outside military circles as the Middle East. This was during the Iran-Iraq War. They were all about reciprocity. Reciprocity is the essence of round and round. “You attack my shipping, I’ll attack your shipping.” So it went.
Sure. History repeats, doesn’t it? Especially in politics and war.
It also repeats on personal levels. Every year, I feel more like everything goes round and round. I get desperately tired of it. I frequently encounter people who seem to think what’s going around is being experienced for the first time. Others did not learn.
Yet, as I age, I understand, we can learn, but sometimes it’s beyond us to apply the lessons learned. We become too hard-wired into expectations and behavior developing from routines and rituals, fears and reactions, and failures and shortcomings. We’re looking for the end of the rainbow, and it stays elusively distant. Our bodies betray us, our minds betray us, and our memories betray us. Dreams fade, and goals collapse.
I’ve seen this in older generations, too. The latest craze becomes yesterday’s fad. Today’s star is tomorrow’s memory, and the next generation(s) are generally bemused by our quaint opinions about hip, cool, technology, and politics.
For some reason, “Panama,” recorded by Van Halen in nineteen eighty-four, is streaming through my head today. This came out while I was on Okinawa; the next year, I was living in South Carolina, and the year after that, I was living in Germany. But the song is most associated with a friend who came along in nineteen ninety-one, when I was living in California. He was my age, and passed away a few years ago from cancer.
(And no, for those who are curious, Randy wasn’t Case A nor Case B from my other post. He’s just another person the big C victimized.)
For you, Randy. He enjoyed listening to Van Halen almost as much as he enjoyed rooting for the Atlanta Braves. In retrospect, he was a boy of summer.
Remember that year, with portends of George Orwell’s prescient novel hanging over us, fueling worries about privacy and government spying? “There are laws against that,” people say, smirking. “It could never happen to us. We’re America. We’re a democracy. It’s the Soviet Union and those totalitarian states like it that should worry.” The U.S.S.R.’s collapse a few years later seemed to vindicate our innate American superiority. We’d won; the communists had lost. Yes, we were so silly to be worried.
Into this era came a German group with a hard-rocking message: “Here I am, rock you like a hurricane.” I didn’t know much about the Scorpions before “Rock You Like A Hurricane.” I knew of them, but little more.
I thought of them today because of my stormy dream. The dream rocked me like a hurricane with its unceasing gloominess and desperation until its climax. I didn’t awaken afraid, but thoughtful. Thinking of the dream, I remembered this song, and its use in Dave Eggers’ novel. Odd, how the mind works, with everything connected and nothing terminated, but spreading and sprawling into new connections.
But with that, I think about the weather again. One difficulty in modeling weather is the planet’s complexity and dynamics. Everything is connected, but tracing the source back to the wings that began the storm can be tricky.
Today’s song is such a classic anthem of insight and intelligence, and so well known, that it needs no introduction. Although it’s been over fifty years since it swept the air-waves, becoming the song played at proms and political rallies, it’s perfect for today’s political era. Just crank it up (that means, turn it up to a high volume), sit back, and listen.
Today’s song, “Sister Christian,” by Night Ranger, is an example of how music brings us together.
The song came was a hit in nineteen eighty-four. I lived on Okinawa at the time. I bought the album but I’m not a big Night Rangers fan. The album, though, entered the Sony CD turntable. A few years later, now stationed in Germany, I have a party going on at my house. Guests include a number of young airmen. This song comes on. Suddenly, two of them were yelling, “Oh my God, Night Ranger. I love Night Ranger. I love this song.”
So we cranked up the song, and the Bose 901s boomed it out. The lyrics are simple, and well-enunciated, and the song had received a lot of air play. Everyone present either knew the song, or proficiently faked it. Soon all present were performing in their best karoaka manner, minus microphones. It probably helped that we were drinking some fine German beer, doing shots of chilled Jagermeister, and we were several hours into the party.
You’re heading into the weekend, or you’re already in it, depending upon your region, you know what you gotta do? That’s right, turn it up. Things go better with rock. Here’s Autograph, from nineteen eighty-four, with “Turn Up the Radio.” Ah, the video, the clothes, hair, attitude, and general corniness. It’s a trip-treat.
To continue with the theme of dancing through the first week of the season change, I’ll continue with Don Henley. “All She Wants to Do Is Dance” is one of my favorite Henley offerings. Coming out in nineteen eighty-four, the song was written by Danny Kortchmar.
I enjoyed its tech sound and cynical lyrics. The song is like a war story being told in a bar about a serviceman’s experience fighting in another country. The impression is, the heavy-handed government is locking everyone up and bugging everywhere, battling “wild-eyed pistol wavers” in a long-going engagement. The rebels are using the weapon of revolutionaries before I.E.D.s, Molotov cocktails, mixed up in their kitchen sink. Meanwhile, the serviceman is coping with a local young women. All she wants to do is dance, make romance, and party. She seems oblivious to everything going on. It becomes clear by song’s end, who was oblivious.
I thought it was an apropos song for the time. It came before the Gulf Wars and after Vietnam, during the cold war era when the United States and U.S.S.R. were trying to align other countries, no matter who led them, with “their side,” propping up governments with money and weapons, enriching the countries’ power elite at the expanse of the poor. The Soviets were battling in Afghanistan against Osama Bin Laden as the U.S. armed and trained the revolutionary. Meanwhile, the U.S. buddied up to Saddam Hussein, arming him.
With its heavy beat, this is an excellent song for streaming and tramping around. It’s a bitter reminder, too, about how weapons and places have changed, but we’re still arming and aiding governments to fight rebels.
Michael Seidel, writer 