The Cult Movie Club: Fletch @ 40

Quentin Tarantino recently drew an interesting comparison between the 1980s careers of Chevy Chase and Bill Murray.

Both had reputations for being difficult but it was Murray who sought ‘positive’/’learning’ scripts through the decade and early 1990s. Chase didn’t: his characters generally started out as wise-cracking assholes, and ended the films the same way.

And the always amusing ‘Fletch’ – a movingtheriver favourite which premiered 40 years ago this weekend – is exhibit A. Based on the 1974 novel by Gregory McDonald (who subsequently wrote ten other Fletch books), it came into existence when Michael Douglas got on board as producer (later to be replaced by his brother Peter) and Universal finally took it on after many false starts.

McDonald had star approval though, and Burt Reynolds, Mick Jagger, Richard Dreyfuss and Jeff Bridges nearly played Irwin R Fletcher, before Chevy got the nod. After a few lean years, he was hot in 1984 after the success of ‘National Lampoon’s Vacation’. In the meantime Andrew ‘Blazing Saddles’ Bergman had written a screenplay with uncredited help from Phil ‘All Of Me’ Alden Robinson too.

Director Michael Ritchie must take a lot of credit for the success of ‘Fletch’. Helmer of bittersweet classics ‘Smile’, ‘The Candidate’, ‘Downhill Racer’ and ‘Prime Cut’ (and, after ‘Fletch’, ‘The Golden Child’ and ‘Cool Runnings’), he keeps things moving fast and reportedly encouraged Chase’s surreal ad-libs. ‘Nugent. Ted Nugent’, was the first, apparently uttered totally spontaneously by Chevy.

His stoned delivery and anti-establishment wisecracks hit the spot time and time again. This writer always giggles when someone shoots out Fletch’s back windscreen and Chevy shouts ‘Thanks a lot!’, ditto the entire ‘airplane investigation’ scene. Chase is always one step ahead of the material, sharing a joke with the audience, assuming it’s intelligent and on his side.

But watching it again, ‘Fletch’ certainly seems more suitable for adults than teenagers (borne out by the fact that when I first saw it at the Putney Odeon during school summer holidays in 1985, the teens around me mainly threw popcorn and talked amongst themselves). The plot is hard to follow and the stakes never seem very high, despite the film’s noir leanings (one key character is named Stanwyk).

The film benefits from some excellent supporting turns – female co-star Dana Wheeler-Nicholson is delightfully natural (though weirdly didn’t make another movie for five years after ‘Fletch’) and Joe Don Baker, M Emmet Walsh, Geena Davis, Richard Libertini and George Wendt (RIP) do solid, enjoyable work.

Harold Faltermeyer’s memorable synth soundtrack still raises a smile. And though ‘Fletch’ would seem to be influenced by ‘Beverly Hills Cop’, it was actually shot around the same time as that Eddie Murphy vehicle, summer 1984, in and around Los Angeles during the Olympics.

‘Fletch’ was a surprisingly big hit, grossing around $60 million against an $8 million budget. Roger Ebert and Pauline Kael quite liked it, Gene Siskel loved it. Kevin ‘Clerks’ Smith tried and failed to reinvigorate the Fletch brand in the 1990s. But Jon Hamm has just played him in 2022’s ‘Confess, Fletch’ – any good? Doubt it… Peak Chevy is a hard act to follow.

1980s Rock/Pop Acts I Should Like But Don’t

Everyone knows a few: those acts that got great reviews, named some of your favourite bands as influences and sold a few records in the process, but there was just something about their music that you couldn’t hack.

Maybe it was their vocals, their outlook, their politics, their songwriting, or a mixture of all four.

Well I know some too. Here’s a totally subjective, wildly judgemental – no offence intended – list of 1980s pop and rock artists who leave me cold, despite most being critical and commercial successes. Believe me, I’ve tried. Like they could care less…

King’s X
My muso mates waxed lyrical about their tricky riffs and tight musicianship but I’ve never got beyond the guy’s not very good singing, their weirdly unmemorable songs and rather naff pomp-rock tendencies.

World Party
Perpetually spoken about in hushed tones of reverence when I was at college but their music singularly failed to grab, despite the Beatles/XTC/Prince influences, possibly due to Karl Wallinger’s rather wimpy voice. See also: Crowded House, REM, Waterboys

The Blow Monkeys
Somehow got filed under the ‘sophistipop’ banner courtesy of their flirtation with ‘slinky’ grooves and soul influences, but for me Dr Robert’s absurd voice and the lack of songwriting imagination never got them past first base. See also: Kane Gang, Simply Red, Johnny Hates Jazz, Black, The Big Dish.

Marillion
Decade-ending Season’s End had some brilliant moments but for me most of the Fish era was a succession of quite badly-played/badly-sung rip-offs of Gabriel-era Genesis. It Bites did it better and added some much-needed pizzazz and groove. See also: IQ, Jadis, Tony Banks/Chris Squire/Mike Rutherford solo albums…

Deacon Blue
I liked the soppier/poppier elements of their debut album Raintown but the game was up when the truly irritating ‘Wages Day’ and ‘Real Gone Kid’ swept the airwaves at the end of the decade. They took Prefab Sprout’s basic concept to the bank whilst shaving off the weird edges.

Paul McCartney
Sheer melodic brilliance time and time again of course, but for me his 1980s work generally flatters to deceive, outside of a few random favourites (‘Pipes Of Peace’, ‘Once Upon A Long Ago’). Yes, even the album he did with Elvis Costello (of whom more below…).

The Style Council
Only a musical moron would deny the power of ‘You’re The Best Thing’ and ‘Walls Come Tumbling Down’ and you have to admire Paul Weller’s songcraft, politics, guitar playing and ability to laugh at himself, but generally it was hard to shake off the naffness. Mick Talbot must take a lot of the blame…

Mick Jagger
He employed some of my favourite producers and musicians (Jeff Beck, Sakamoto, Bill Laswell, Herbie Hancock, Doug Wimbish, Simon Phillips etc. etc.) but failed to produce even one memorable or interesting single or album track during the 1980s. See also: Pete Townshend, Eric Clapton, Nick Heyward, Jerry Harrison

Pages
This yacht rock supergroup had a great singer (Richard Page) and sh*t-hot musicians (Vinnie Colaiuta, Jay Graydon, Jeff Porcaro, Steve Lukather etc.) but the songs weren’t strong or memorable enough. See also: most of Toto, Mr Mister

Elvis Costello
Weirdly his ‘Less Than Zero’ was one of the first singles I loved as a kid, but his desperation to be a serious ’80s ‘artist’ fell on deaf ears despite the fact that he obviously knew a lot of chords and retained some of that new-wave angst (but even I couldn’t resist his fine run of 1990s form, from the superb ‘London’s Brilliant Parade’ to Bacharach). See also: The Cars, The The, Squeeze.

Van Morrison
To my ears his 1980s music is like Joni Mitchell and John Martyn without the melodic/harmonic/lyrical depth, apart from the sublime ‘Rave On John Donne’. People tell me he always uses great bands though, but they often barely register…

Todd Rundgren
I’m more of a fan of his 1980s producing work (Pursuit Of Happiness, XTC etc) than his solo music. Never bought into this whole ‘he’s a genius’ thing, save the wonderful ‘The Verb To Love’ – but that’s from the 1970s, innit…? See also: Lenny Kravitz.

Depeche Mode
Yes they’ve got a few pop hooks, the Mute Records cred and ‘edgy’ image but never been able to shake off an ineffable naffness for me. And despite being ‘synth pioneers’, they didn’t seem to push the sonic envelope much in the 1980s at all. ‘Everything Counts’ was superb though and I got on board later with Ultra. See also: Kraftwerk, New Musik, Visage, Ultravox, New Order, Howard Jones

Pink Floyd
If you want to put me to sleep, put on any of Pink Floyd’s 1980s work. Bring back Syd. See also: Fleetwood Mac, Pink Floyd solo projects, except Nick Mason’s Fictitious Sports, which is brilliant…

Bad Brains
Dub/thrash/funk pioneers and a huge influence on bands I really like such as Living Colour, Fishbone and 24-7 Spyz, but their music seems a little amateurish to me and, again, their singer was not blessed with a great set of pipes (unlike the singers of bands above).

Housemartins
Fondly remembered until you actually hear those singles again – ‘Build’, ‘Happy Hour’, ‘Caravan Of Love’. Annoying, a bit puny, and apparently the more irritating side of the C-86 generation.

The Jesus and Mary Chain
Bowie summed them up well for me: ‘I tried the Jesus and Mary Chain but I just couldn’t believe it. It’s awful! It was so sophomoric – like the Velvets without Lou. I just know that they’re kids from Croydon! I just can’t buy it…’

Robert Fripp: Exposure (The Definitive Edition) @ 40

Fripp’s debut solo album, originally recorded at New York’s Hit Factory between January 1978 and January 1979, has endured endless tinkering from the artist including various remixes/reversions.

But his 1985 (or should that be 1983?) remix, carried out at London’s Marcus Studios alongside Brad Davies, is the best.

But calling Fripp completists: is this version of Exposure even available on any format apart from the original cassette? (Thank goodness I still have my copy, signed by Fripp at the Virgin Megastore circa 1988, because I bought the noughties CD version to find that it featured completely different vocal takes, and the current streaming version is just as obtuse…).

The 1985 version of Exposure adds some sonic wallop to the drums, pushes Barry Andrews’ keyboards way back in the mix, comps the best of Daryl Hall and Peter Hammill’s vocals and features arguably Peter Gabriel’s best ever version of ‘Here Comes The Flood’ (with Frippertronics prelude).

It’s also a completely personal album, Fripp’s Face Value, the musings of an uptight Englishman in NYC, a prog/fusion version of ‘Annie Hall’. There are funny vocal interjections/indiscretions from his mother (‘You never remember happy things’), Fripp himself (‘Incredibly dismal, pathetic chord sequence’) and Eno (‘Can I play you some new things that I think could be commercial?’).

Gabriel fluffs the opening of ‘Here Comes The Flood’, Hall layers his vocals in strikingly avant-garde fashion, JG Bennett’s words are often layered in (with permission from his widow), arguments are eavesdropped upon and there are striking ‘audio verite’ sections. And lots of Frippertronics.

Fripp also uses silence to great effect. Don’t play this album too loud. But then there are the gorgeous ballads, ‘North Star’, featuring delightful pedal steel from Sid McGinnis and wonderful Hall vocals, and ‘Mary’, featuring Terre Roche (she also screams away on the cool reversion of Gabriel/Fripp’s title track).

And drummers: you gotta hear this album. Forget Narada Michael Walden’s playing with Weather Report, Jeff Beck, Tommy Bolin and the Mahavishnu Orchestra – this is his most outrageously brilliant drumming on record. Phil Collins plays well too, as do Allan Schwartzberg and Jerry Marotta.

1985 was a good year for Fripp. Alongside this fantastic Exposure remix, he met future wife Toyah, recorded some brilliant stuff with David Sylvian and also set up his ‘study group’ The League Of Crafty Guitarists.

Steve Hunt/Tim Miller: Changes

Arguably no guitarist has stepped into Allan Holdsworth’s shoes since the Yorkshireman’s sad death in 2017 – hardly surprising since he was one of the greatest, most original voices on the instrument.

But if anyone can get close to recapturing Holdsworth’s compositional magic, it’s keyboard player Steve Hunt who toured/recorded with the guitarist between 1988 and 1995 and wrote two bona fide Allan classics – ‘Dodgy Boat’ and ‘Joshua’.

Hunt’s new album Changes features guitarist Tim Miller and three key Holdsworth collaborators: drummers Chad Wackerman and Gary Husband, plus bassist Jimmy Johnson. It’s a feast of interesting chord voicings and strong melodic statements. It doesn’t hurt that Miller is clearly a devotee of Holdsworth, a fluid, elegant player with a similar tone and legato approach, but obviously way off the unpredictable, effervescent brilliance of Allan. No shame in that…

This is heavy, intricate, epic music, decidedly nearer the prog/rock end of fusion than the jazz. Opener ‘Falling’ is a superb composition with lots of Holdsworth chord voicings, interesting modulations and a memorable melody. ‘Sevens’ seems inspired by Allan’s ‘The Un Merry Go Round’, with another great melody and beguiling ‘add-9’ modal flavour, plus a classic Husband drum solo also echoing that Holdsworth piece.

The title track is a moving, melancholy solo Hunt piece performed on various synths, while ‘Inverted’ features some ingenious chord voicings and a superb Moog solo from the composer. ‘Emergence’ is catchy with a lovely crisscrossing feel alternating between 4/4 and 6/8 time, while the closing ‘Next’ may be the most Holdsworth-ish melody of the whole album (and foregrounding a strong Joe Zawinul flavour during the solo section).

There are a few minor gripes – Changes has a slightly ‘whooshy’/over-compressed quality, and the drummers occasionally sound similar, never a problem when they shared studios with Holdsworth during the late 1980s and 1990s. And Miller’s two compositions – ‘Aerial Route’ and ‘Chrysalis’ – are less essential, lacking Hunt’s melodic sense, though the former tune has a brilliant Johnson bass solo which explores every inch of the instrument.

But overall this is a really strong, cohesive, consistent album, and this writer’s favourite ‘fusion’ record since John McLaughlin’s Is That So? from 2019. It’s also essential listening for fans of Holdsworth, McLaughlin, Husband and Wackerman.

The Cult Movie Club: The Osterman Weekend (1983)

‘Straw Dogs’, ‘Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia’, ‘The Wild Bunch’, ‘Pat Garrett & Billy The Kid’, ‘Cross Of Iron’… One doesn’t forget Sam Peckinpah’s films in a hurry.

By the early 1980s, his career had hit rock-bottom, despite a random hit with ‘Convoy’ in 1978. But he was still hungry to work, though deemed unreliable and dangerous by the powers that be.

Salvation came in the form of his one-time mentor Don Siegel, with whom Peckinpah had worked on a few movies including ‘Invasion Of The Body Snatchers’. Siegel had a tricky action sequence to shoot for his Bette Midler vehicle ‘Jinxed’ – he persuaded Peckinpah to storyboard and direct the sequence, and Sam ended up sticking around for 12 days, impressing everybody with his ideas and – frankly – sobriety.

Suddenly Peckinpah was back in the game. He was quickly offered a Robert Ludlum espionage thriller ‘The Osterman Weekend’, adapted by ‘Night Moves’/’Ulzana’s Raid’ writer Alan Sharp, concerning a TV personality who becomes convinced that his best friends are Soviet agents.

The producers insisted Sam be on his best behaviour and he was also given other directives: no drastic re-writing, no casting approval (he wanted James Coburn but got Rutger Hauer) and no final cut.

But he did get his choice of DP – John ‘Straw Dogs’ Coquillon. The budget was $7 million. Peckinpah finished in January 1983 on time and on budget. The movie just about made back its costs (not helped by an appalling trailer, so instead let’s see Mark Cousins’ ‘Moviedrome’ introduction, as below) and became a hit in the burgeoning video market.

‘The Osterman Weekend’ got a critical mauling and is yet to receive a posh official restoration. But watching it now, it turns out to be yet another fascinating, unpredictable and weirdly gripping Peckinpah movie.

He throws down the gauntlet with a seriously unpleasant opening scene which gives new meaning to coitus interruptus (apparently excised from the original theatrical cut). The sets are fairly drab. John Hurt seems miscast despite a nice Pinteresque switcheroo late in the piece and most of the female characters are ‘problematic’ (with one notable exception).

But Peckinpah puts together two or three superb action sequences including a thrilling chase through the outskirts of LA. Hauer shows unexpected depth alongside the usual impressive athleticism and Craig T Nelson – best known for his role in ‘Poltergeist’ – is excellent, as are Meg Foster, a clearly ill Dennis Hopper and Chris Sarandon. It sounds like Lalo Schifrin gathered the cream of the LA session scene for his nice if strange Yacht Rock soundtrack.

It also seems that Peckinpah got in a naughty rewrite after all and was incapable of just phoning in an assignment – the film is deeply personal, about betrayal, surveillance and the disintegration of relationships in Reagan’s America. And it’s also about protecting the family unit – yes, it’s Peckinpah’s take on Steven Spielberg…

‘The Osterman Weekend’ became his final film – he died in December 1984 at just 59. His last professional act was to direct two videos for Julian Lennon, of all people: ‘Valotte’ and ‘Too Late For Goodbyes’. But ’Osterman’ is well worth a look, if you’ve got a strong stomach and a love of weird, unpredictable movies.

Further reading: If They Move, Kill ‘Em by David Weddle

The Best Album Titles Of The 1980s

We’ve looked at some of the worst album titles of the 1980s – now it’s time for the best.

But what made a memorable/interesting title? Certainly a few themes emerge from the list below.

Some issue instructions to the listener, some pose questions. Most feature common words uncommonly used. A pun can help. A couple are named after books. And a concept doesn’t hurt, especially if accompanied by good album artwork/design. Release the bats…

Adventures In the Land Of The Good Groove (Nile Rodgers)

What’s Bootsy Doin’? (Bootsy Collins)

No Sleep ‘Til Hammersmith (Motorhead)

Climate Of Hunter (Scott Walker)

Rum, Sodomy & The Lash (The Pogues)

Bostin’ Steve Austin (We’ve Got A Fuzzbox And We’re Gonna Use It)

From Langley Park To Memphis (Prefab Sprout)

Are You Glad To Be In America? (James Blood Ulmer)

America – Do You Remember The Love? (James Blood Ulmer)

Metal Fatigue (Allan Holdsworth)

Shockadelica (Jesse Johnson)

Back In The DHSS (Half Man Half Biscuit)

The Slide Area (Ry Cooder)

As The Veneer Of Democracy Starts To Fade (Mark Stewart)

Be Yourself Tonight (Eurythmics)

Sulk (Associates)

Love Stinks (J Geils Band)

Jazz From Hell (Frank Zappa)

Shut Up And Play Yer Guitar (Frank Zappa)

Broadway The Hard Way (Frank Zappa)

Aliens Ate My Buick (Thomas Dolby)

The Golden Age Of Wireless (Thomas Dolby)

Exit Stage Left (Rush)

Some Of My Best Jokes Are Friends (George Clinton)

R’n’B Skeletons In The Closet (George Clinton)

There Goes The Neighbourhood (Joe Walsh)

You Bought It – You Name It (Joe Walsh)

Friendly As A Hand Grenade (Tackhead)

Stop Making Sense (Talking Heads)

Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret (Soft Cell)

Frankenchrist (Dead Kennedys)

This Is What You Want…This Is What You Get (PiL)

Album (PiL)

Twang Bar King (Adrian Belew)

Big Science (Laurie Anderson)

Building The Perfect Beast (Don Henley)

Freaky Styley (Red Hot Chili Peppers)

The Pursuit Of Accidents (Level 42)

The Big Lad In The Windmill (It Bites)

Searching For The Young Soul Rebels (Dexys Midnight Runners)

The Affectionate Punch (Associates)

Empires And Dance (Simple Minds)

For How Much Longer Will We Tolerate Mass Murder (The Pop Group)

Return Of The Giant Slits (Slits)

Your Cassette Pet (Bow Wow Wow)

See Jungle! See Jungle! Go Join Your Gang Yeah, City All Over! Go Ape Crazy! (Bow Wow Wow)

Cupid & Psyche ‘85 (Scritti Politti)

My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts (David Byrne/Brian Eno)

Eat ‘Em And Smile (David Lee Roth)

Other good ‘uns? Let us know below…

USA For Africa: We Are The World @ 40

Released 40 years ago this month and officially the fastest-selling single in American music history, USA For Africa’s ‘We Are The World’ shifted over 20 million copies and raised a huge amount of money for African famine relief.

Co-written by Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie during a few sessions at the former’s house in Encino, the song divides opinion but only the hardest heart could fail to be moved by its recording (even if one can definitely feel the vibe of some major agent/star power – no arriving in the manager’s battered old car for this lot…).

It brought together a fairly astonishing cast list of the great and good. And, inadvertently, it also arguably represented a last gasp for classic 1980s R’n’B and yacht rock.

The basic track was recorded at Kenny Rogers’ Lion Share Studios on 22 January 1985 with king-of-the-cross-stick John ‘JR’ Robinson on drums, bassist Louis Johnson and pianist Greg Phillinganes, closely monitored by a huge press corps, co-producers Quincy Jones and Michael Omartian and engineer Humberto Gatica. According to Robinson, all the musicians were sight-reading a chart and a click track was used, and they didn’t do more than two takes.

A few days later, Lionel sat down with Quincy and vocal arranger Tom Bahler to prep who would sing which lines (the decision was also made to mainly record vocals live and ‘in the round’ with no or at least very few ‘punch-ins’, unlike ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’). All the major vocalists were then sent a copy of the basic track featuring Jackson’s guide vocal and with an enclosed letter from Lionel.

The featured singers then assembled at A&M Studios at around 9pm on Monday 28 January, most arriving after the American Music Awards (which Richie hosted). Notable absentees: Madonna (who was apparently bumped in favour of Cyndi Lauper), Prince (check out Duane Tudahl’s superb book for the details), George Benson, Dolly Parton, Donna Summer, Michael McDonald, Pat Benatar, Rod Temperton, Stevie Nicks, Joni Mitchell, Billy Idol? And is it odd that Smokey Robinson didn’t sing a solo line?

The complete footage of the recording session is still fascinating. We see how some of the biggest names in music history found different ways of preparing. Steve Perry waits for his line with eyes shut, looking down, listening intently. Diana Ross does just the opposite.

Bob Geldof gives a stirring pep talk and Stevie Wonder brings in two Ethiopian women to address the singers, moving many to tears. It’s hard not to be touched by Stevie, Kenny Rogers, Dionne Warwick, Diana, Steve Perry, Ray Charles and Cyndi Lauper’s vocals. But Harry Belafonte, Ray Charles, Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen seem to get the most respect from the assembled stars.

Other observations: Brucie – who had finished the latest leg of the Born In The USA tour the night before – looking like Judd Nelson in ‘The Breakfast Club’. Al Jarreau struggling throughout. Lionel the team player. Stevie giggling like a naughty schoolkid when Quincy gets annoyed. James Ingram hiding behind Kenny Rogers after a boo-boo.

Paul Simon twice saying to Rogers: ‘Can I help?’ Lauper sharing vocal tips with Kim Carnes. MJ holding hands with Diana and Stevie. Quincy and Stevie rehearsing with Bob Dylan. Stevie and Ray Charles using their braille machine. Quincy reading the score as he conducts the soloists, and his witty asides: ‘Who you gonna call?’ etc.

It looks like they recorded the first half of the song first (up to and including Daryl Hall) and then spent some time on the middle eight with Huey Lewis, Lauper and Carnes.

How does it sound now? Phillinganes’ piano playing is a pleasure to hear, typically tasty and gospel-inflected. But the track is inundated with synths – no less than four players are credited, including David Paich and Steve Porcaro from Toto – and probably why it reminded many of a Pepsi ad.

And it’s odd that the song features no guitar, though Prince offered to play a solo – Quincy reportedly told Prince’s manager Bob Cavallo: ‘I don’t need him to play guitar, we got f*ckin’ guitars’!

The Face Magazine: Culture Shift @ National Portrait Gallery, London

Any British music fan who came of age during the 1980s must surely have a soft spot for The Face magazine.

Launched by Smash Hits founder/NME editor Nick Logan in May 1980, the monthly rag – so named because of its Mod allegiances – quickly become known as a first-rate style mag (it covered fashion, music, culture, clubbing and cinema too), with its many famous covers reaching the level of high-quality pop art.

Indeed, looking again at issue #1, it’s remarkable how many of its listed writers and photographers would turn out to be key documentors of the decade – Janette Beckman, Julie Burchill, Gary Crowley, Anton Corbijn, Ian Cranna, Jill Furmanovsky, David Hepworth, Tony Parsons, Sheila Rock, Pennie Smith (and that issue alone features iconic photos of Madness, The Specials, The Clash, John Lydon and Paul Weller, amongst others).

It was also unique amongst 1980s music mags in paying as much attention to reggae, hip-hop, electro, house, rare groove and jazz as it did to post-punk, 2-Tone and sophistipop.

But movingtheriver also remembers it most for its superb long-form interviews: I still have issues featuring in-depth pieces on Miles Davis, Trouble Funk, Dennis Hopper, David Sylvian, David Byrne, Robert Smith, Daryl Hall and Ken Russell.

The Face’s iconic imagery is celebrated at the excellent if compact new exhibition at London’s National Portrait Gallery. Predictably it’s photos from those post-punk/New Pop salad days of 1980-1983 which produce the most smiles of recognition/pleasure – Bowie in Japan, Adam Ant, Phil Oakey, John Lydon, Annie Lennox.

But there are great pics/stories from later in the decade too – Bros with their mum at home in Peckham, Shane MacGowan, Sade, Nick Kamen, Felix et al. There’s also a great chronology of 1980s clubbing, from Goth to Acid House, and a focus on long- lost London nightspots.

As the 1980s became the 1990s, The Face arguably reflected a gradual coarsening of the culture with more focus on fashion and lifestyle – but you knew that anyway. But this exhibition is a must-see for any music fan who loved the 1980s, and it was also refreshing to see such a broad range of ages attending.

The Face Magazine: Culture Shift runs at the National Portrait Gallery until 18 May 2025.

The Worst Album Titles Of The 1980s

It was one of the many issues that probably had managers and marketing people tearing their hair out during the 1980s.

What to name your album? It might be a low-risk strategy to name it after the first single – even better if that song is a big hit – or, if you were feeling clever, after a ‘pivotal’ album track.

But oftentimes 1980s acts went out on a limb, looking for a ‘poetic’ title, something ‘novel’, something… You get the picture.

Here’s a selection (to be regularly updated) of 1980s album titles that went off-piste. Some are pretentious, some weird, some have needless word repetition (hello Sting), some fudge punctuation or foreign words in an infuriating way, some are rubbish puns, some are desperate to shock, some are way too high-falutin’, some throw concepts together in a seemingly random way. But the reaction to most is: eh?

Of course a bad title didn’t stop some of these being great albums, though, tellingly, very few were big hits…

Talking With The Taxman About Poetry (Billy Bragg)

Three Hearts In The Happy Ending Machine (Daryl Hall)

The Secret Value Of Daydreaming (Julian Lennon)

Steve McQueen (Prefab Sprout)

Shooting Rubberbands At The Stars (Edie Brickell & The New Bohemians)

The Uplift Mofo Party Plan (Red Hot Chili Peppers)

Mother’s Milk (Red Hot Chili Peppers)

As Falls Wichita, So Falls Wichita Falls (Pat Metheny/Lyle Mays)

Into The Dragon (Bomb The Bass)

Angst In My Pants (Sparks)

Tennis (Chris Rea)

Love Over Gold (Dire Straits)

North Of A Miracle (Nick Heyward)

Misplaced Childhood (Marillion)

Script For A Jester’s Tear (Marillion)

Boys & Girls (Bryan Ferry)

Journeys To Glory (Spandau Ballet)

Through The Barricades (Spandau Ballet)

Seven And The Ragged Tiger (Duran Duran)

Big Thing (Duran Duran)

Modern Romans (The Call)

The Secret Of Association (Paul Young)

Shabooh Shoobah (INXS)

Remain In Light (Talking Heads)

If This Bass Could Only Talk (Stanley Clarke)

Blood & Chocolate (Elvis Costello)

A Salt With A Deadly Pepa (Salt’n’Pepa)

Splendido Hotel (Al Di Meola)

Within The Realm Of A Dying Sun (Dead Can Dance)

The Moon Looked Down And Laughed (Virgin Prunes)

Architecture & Morality (OMD)

The Dream Of The Blue Turtles (Sting)

In-No-Sense? Nonsense! (Art Of Noise)

In Square Circle (Stevie Wonder)

Lawyers In Love (Jackson Browne)

The Story Of A Young Heart (A Flock Of Seagulls)

The One Giveth, The Count Taketh Away (Bootsy Collins)

You Shouldn’t-Nuf Bit Fish (George Clinton)

All The Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes (Pete Townshend)

Difficult Shapes And Passive Rhythms Some People Think It’s Fun To Entertain (China Crisis)

Working With Fire And Steel (China Crisis)

Franks Wild Years (Tom Waits)

So Red The Rose (Arcadia)

Café Bleu (The Style Council)

The F**king C*nts Treat Us Like Pricks (Flux Of Pink)

Chalk Mark In A Rainstorm (Joni Mitchell)

I, Assassin (Gary Numan)

Civilised Evil (Jean-Luc Ponty)

Introducing The Hardline According To Terence Trent D’Arby

Children (The Mission)

Casa Loco (Steve Khan)

The First Of A Million Kisses (Fairground Attraction)

Bebop Moptop (Danny Wilson)

 

More crap 1980s album titles? Of course. Let us know in the comments below (particularly looking for more in the metal, Goth and prog genres).

The Breakfast Club @ 40: 17 Things You Didn’t Know About The Classic Teen Movie

Despite a few bum notes, ‘The Breakfast Club’ – which premiered 40 years ago this month – remains one of the essential 1980s movies, a must-see for generation after generation of teenagers.

Like or loathe it (some contemporary critics such as Pauline Kael lamented its whinier aspects, while others such as Roger Ebert were surprisingly sympathetic), its superb cast act as if their lives depended on it, and writer/director John Hughes’s attention to detail and comic timing are as spot-on today as they must have seemed in 1985.

But what was going on behind the scenes? Where was the film shot? Which famous actors nearly got cast? Which actors didn’t get along? Movingtheriver has done some digging (with spoilers)…

17. The film was edited by Hollywood royalty Dede Allen, who had worked on ‘The Hustler’, ‘Bonnie & Clyde’, ‘Serpico’, ‘Dog Day Afternoon’ and ‘Reds’ (apparently she was put to work on John Hughes’ original three-hour cut…).

16. Theme song ‘Don’t You Forget About Me’ was written by Keith Forsey after witnessing the scene where Brian (Anthony Michael Hall) asks his fellow detention attendees if they’ll still be friends the next day. Simple Minds turned it into a US #1 but Bryan Ferry was Forsey and Hughes’ first choice – he turned it down, busy mixing Boys & Girls.

15. Hughes wrote the first draft of the film over one weekend.

14. Universal weren’t behind the film, wanting more teenage hi-jinks and nudity a la ‘Porky’s’. They weren’t even sure Hughes should direct.

13. Anthony Michael Hall and Molly Ringwald were just 16 years old during filming – all the other ‘schoolkids’ were well into their 20s.

12. Jodie Foster, Laura Dern and Robin Wright all auditioned for the part of Claire, the prom queen. Molly Ringwald got the role despite initially being cast as Alison, the misfit. Emilio Estevez was initially cast as the ‘bully’ John Bender until Judd Nelson came in at the last minute (Nicolas Cage, John Cusack and Jim Carrey all almost played Bender too). Rick Moranis was due to play Carl the janitor but left the film just before shooting.

11. It was shot between March-May 1984 at Maine North High School in Des Plaines, Illinois, the same abandoned school used for ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. Most of the film takes place in a library – this was actually a set built in the school gymnasium.

10. The cast rehearsed for three weeks before the cameras rolled. They were running lines and bonding even as sets were being built around them. The film was also shot in sequence, a rarity.

9. Researching his role as Bender, Judd Nelson went ‘undercover’ at a nearby high school with fake ID and formed a real clique of naughty teens.

8. The cast didn’t smoke real pot in the famous ‘truth-telling’ scene – it was oregano.

7. Anthony Michael Hall’s real life mother and sister talk to him in the car at the beginning (and Hughes has a cameo as his dad).

6. Ringwald tried to get Hughes to remove the scene where Bender hides under the desk and looks between her legs, but he refused.

5. Bender’s famous, defiant/celebratory fist-raise at the end was improvised by Judd Nelson.

4. The scene where the characters sit around and explain why they are in detention was all improvised.

3. The original cut was 150 minutes long – they had to lose 53 minutes, including a long dream sequence and a whole character (a sexy gym teacher). Some deleted scenes have appeared on DVDs and on YouTube but many outtakes have never been seen.

2. The iconic poster photo was taken by Annie Leibovitz and later satirised by ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2’.

1. The budget was just under $1 million! The film made over $51 million during its initial run…