An Album For Every Year I've Been Alive: 1987

The Full Roster

Syd Barrett, The Peel Sessions
Def Leppard, Hysteria
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen
George Harrison, Cloud Nine
Pink Floyd, A Momentary Lapse of Reason

Still trudging along, just a few albums at a time. In all honesty, I'm fudging it with Hysteria a little bit, in the sense that I don't (to my knowledge) actually own a copy of that album, digital or otherwise. But as one of the first cassettes I ever owned--back when I was a mere whelp in the '80s--and given how much I listened to it back then, I figured it deserved a spot on the list. And, as you will see below, it still has an impact to this day.

Favorite Album: Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen

While 1984's Ocean Rain is a superior overall effort, it's not merely a lack of options that sees Echo & the Bunnymen take the top spot for 1987. Perhaps best known for the karaoke-ready single "Lips Like Sugar," the band's eponymous fifth album would be their last featuring original drummer Pete de Freitas (and, for a while at least, lead singer Ian McCulloch). As such, it's easy to nitpick its shortcomings--it feels a bit less lively than its predecessor, and de Freitas' drumming in particular doesn't seem as insistent as it had previously (he would die in a motorcycle accident a couple years after the release of Echo & the Bunnymen) In particular, "Bedbugs and Ballyhoo" sounds like the kind of song de Freitas would have attacked with some relish in a previous incarnation. But even a somewhat blander Echo & the Bunnymen album still makes for a pretty good album, and this one happens to contain "Bombers Bay," one of my favorite songs in their catalog.

In fact, "Bombers Bay" is part of a five-track run in the middle of the album which carries much of the weight, quality-wise. It's preceded by "All In Your Mind," which has De Freitas' best work of the album on it, and lurches and propels forward in a way unlike most of the rest of the album. Next up is "Bombers Bay," which in some ways bears some of the major problems with Echo & the Bunnymen; de Freitas at his most subdued, a heavy reliance on keyboards, and a fairly basic composition overall. But it sits well the way it is, in spite of that; if this was the sound the band was going for with the rest of the album, you can't really blame them for trying. Immediately following is "Lips Like Sugar," which despite my karaoke comment I like quite a bit, "grandiose" as it may be by the band's standards. It's biggest sin, in fact, might be overshadowing the songs around it; it's followed up by "Lost and Found," which is like a distillation of the two previous songs, featuring "Bombers Bay"-esque vocals and sounding a bit like "Lips Like Sugar" with a bit more tempo. Rounding out the quintet is "New Direction," which closes out the sequence in much the same way that "All In Your Mind" began it, and features some stellar guitar work from Will Sergeant.

Like I say, I don't think Echo & the Bunnymen is an album without its flaws, but I do feel it is underrated slightly, perhaps due in part to the more streamlined sound the band chases, and that is shown on songs like "Lips Like Sugar." In retrospect, being the final album with the original lineup (not counting "Echo," their original drum machine) maybe sours opinion as well. But while it might be a blessing in disguise that this outfit didn't get to continue along the same path that Echo & the Bunnymen seemed to indicate, it was still an immensely entertaining and enjoyable first step.



Honorable Mention: George Harrison, Cloud Nine

In a tougher year, perhaps Cloud Nine doesn't grab this Honorable Mention. I don't mean to damn it with faint praise, since it is a pretty good album in its own right, and arguably Harrison's best aside from All Things Must Pass, but it's not like it faced much of a challenge from Pink Floyd's A Momentary Lapse of Reason. But enough of what Cloud Nine isn't; what it is is a solid collection of Harrison's typically upbeat songwriting, featuring a consistency that was maybe lacking from the likes of Gone Troppo. I have particular fond memories of the hit single "Got My Mind Set On You," the video for which stands among my earliest television memories, and reminds me of hanging around in the background while my sisters did cool stuff like watch MTV with their friends.

Although I have my reservations about a few of the songs--"That's What It Takes" in particular is an exercise in bland, '80s contemporary rock--there's enough  good stuff throughout to recommend Cloud Nine.  The title track leads off with something of a Bob Dylan sensibility, and "When We Was Fab" is probably the most light-hearted song about the Beatles written by a former Beatle (in stark contrast to John Lennon's less-than-enthusiastic looks back).  In fact, there's a palpable sense of joy--perhaps just with recording music again in general--that permeates the album, and seems to cement Harrison's arguable status as the coolest Beatle.  That's maybe most evident on "Got My Mind Set On You," a cover of a song originally recorded by James Ray but given new life by Harrison's version.  It's a pretty simple song, and pretty repetitive, but effectively and insidiously enjoyable.  I'm not always one for such things as joy, but I'll admit to liking it on this album.  Well-played, Harrison.



Narrow Miss:  Def Leppard, Hysteria

In fairness, when I started looking at 1987, the first album that popped into my head was Hysteria.  That says quite a bit about the impact this album had on my early childhood.  It was the first album I ever owned, having been gifted it by my older sister (which sister currently escapes me).  I owned that old cassette tape for more than a decade, and I have a sneaking suspicion it might still be buried in an old shoebox somewhere, if I didn't give it away as a gag gift at some point.   

Hysteria is a landmark album of hair metal, which may be a blessing or a curse depending on how you look at it.  But when I was a wee lad, I played it incessantly, because this was the coolest fucking thing I'd ever heard (I had yet to hear most curse words by that point, "fucking" included).  I guess technically speaking Hysteria isn't a part of my actual music collection, in that it may have gone the way of the cassette tape format in which it was owned, but...it was part of my collection once, and for a time it was my entire collection, if you could call it that.  And though it takes a strong sense of detachment to listen all the way through monster smash hit "Pour Some Sugar On Me" now, back then I knew the whole thing by heart, and would sing along accordingly.  Even to this day just mentioning a song title off this album can pop the melody, or at least the chorus, into my head.  Whether it be "Rocket" ("Satelli-ee-ite of Love," they sing) or "Hysteria" ("Whoa can you feel it") or even "Armageddon It" ("Yes I'm a-gettin' it"), this entire album is ensconced in my brain and I fear only a mental re-programming by the robot hordes would ever unroot it.  How can one ever tear themselves away from a wrenching power ballad like "Love Bites?"  I ask you.



Most Ridiculous Song:  Def Leppard, "Love Bites," from the album Hysteria

Speaking of "Love Bites," here you go.  The great thing about hair metal power ballads is there's only one way to shoot a music video for them, and it is absolutely the perfect visual accompaniment for such a song.  Such symbiosis is not to be taken for granted.




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