No Extinguisher in Sight

Always known for having its finger on the Pulse of Relevancy, Monrovia Top Five this weekend is debating Top 80’s songs. I haven’t contributed my list yet, mainly because in such a diverse decade, it’s damn near impossible to pin down a quintet that can effectively speak on behalf of that decade. What I’ll probably end up doing is pick a UN Security Council-style group to serve as representatives of all the genres. Rock, New Wave, Hair Band, Pop, and a Wild Card entry.

This is the Wild Card entry.

Everyone has one musical artist that they grew up listening to. You have no, I repeat, NO say in who this artist turns out to be. Your parents make that call. After all, they sit in the front seat of the car near the radio, and well, they’re bigger than you. Your first musical tastes largely will be dictated for you. At some point, you may veer off to a course of your own, but for the most part it will always be a part of you. Two examples:

Spud Mellor (Simon and Garfunkel)
Joe Brescia (Savage Garden)

Anyways, my first concert was that of the songwriter from Long Island, and in the younger days of YAB, we even banged out a parody driving back and forth between Homecoming and class in Alexandria. And that wasn’t even the first time – I stole The Entertainer from him as well for Mookiepalooza. Needless to say, he’s been an influence. So why not a Billy Joel song as my 80’s wildcard?

We Didn’t Start the Fire is a strange, strange four minutes and fifty seconds of pop music. The music track is a weird combination of electric guitar, synthesized keyboard, a driving drum kit, and some crazy person on the sound effect rig. (like the Psycho sound?) It’s not every day that a talented songwriter thinks to himself, “Man, wouldn’t it be cool if I took 122 things from my lifetime and strung them together in a chronological, rapid-fire world history Cliffs Notes? Yeah, and I’ll film a weird video where I get get insanely angry at a kitchen table and flip it in a fit of rage. Yeah! Where’s my Encyclopedia Britannica?”

Now this song spans the years 1952-1989. That’s 37 years of history. Granted, 64-89 are summed up in a quaint, 8 line stanza at the end (perhaps Joel got tired and phoned it in), but some of the things that made it in are simply hilarious.

And yet still, doesn’t the JFK line still come off a little harsh? Sure, it doesn’t match Bono’s “Tonight thank God it’s them, instead of youuuuuuuuu” from the Band-Aid song. But it’s close.

Bet you can guess what’s coming at 1pm.