Pickled Priest Mixtape: Our Favorite Songs of 1981

Those schoolboy days, of telling tales and biting nails are gone,

but in my mind I know they will still live on and on.

I paraphrase Lulu's "To Sir With Love" because for this post I'm back in my formative years once again and that means a heavy dose of personal nostalgia with a noticeable concentration on futile pursuits of the opposite sex. Mixed in are a bunch of songs discovered at varying times over the years as my musical evolution expanded my range of interests, so get ready for an incongruous hodge-podge of strange bedfellows. Of course, it will all make perfect sense to me. Just as yours would do the same for you. I encourage you to follow along and play the Pickled Priest Favorite Songs home game. It'll help you get to know yourself a little more, I assure you, and whether that's a good thing or not is entirely up to you.

Pickled Priest's Favorite Songs of 1981 Mixtape

26 "Wünderbar" | Tenpole Tudor

Wünderbar = wonderful in German, but it took a British punk band to produce this modern day Oktoberfest toast, which is also prime pub-rat fodder as well. Anywhere a pint is hoisted or a stein is filled there should be access to Tenpole Tudor’s sudsy, robust “Wünderbar.” Band leader Edward Tudor-Pole (the same guy who sang “Who Killed Bambi?” on the soundtrack of the Sex Pistols' Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Swindle, a song prominently featured in the recent Netflix drama Zero Day starring Robert DeNiro) is the soused genius behind this rousing anthem, which dedicates a full 14% of its run time to a whistling solo. What more can you ask for?

25 "She's Like Heroin to Me" | The Gun Club

She's like heroin to me

She cannot miss a vein

How such a statement is taken is highly dependent on the girl, I would presume. If somebody wrote me a love song like this I’m not sure how I would take it. So, you're comparing me to a drug that has senselessly ruined the lives of countless addicts and collaterally the lives of families, friends, and lovers? How flattering. A red flag to say the least. Swipe left. Yet the song somehow works mainly because the Gun Club’s Jeffrey Lee Pierce (aka "Elvis from Hell") delivers its harrowing chorus with a snarling desperation that you can only earn the hard way. Which he did, eventually dying from complications related to his heroin and alcohol addiction in 1996. I've always been attracted to the seedy underbelly of rock and roll and this is a good example of a song that succeeds despite its darkness. I have a morbid attraction to it, much like my fascination with the movie Sid and Nancy. Addicts need love, too, maybe more than most.

24 "Below the Drop" | The Effigies

Although we're somewhat biased toward Chicago bands, Effigies needed no geographical bump to make this list. The subject matter—not being “boxed in” by invented religious beliefs—appeals to me philosophically, but it's the explosiveness of the chorus sung by John Kezdy (RIP) and the frantic elevated train guitar chug (thanks to Earl "Oil" Letiecq) that makes this one of punk's most underappreciated punk singles.

23 "Elizabeth Montgomery's Face" | The Embarrassment

Nerdy rock with a nervous, jittery disposition is one of my favorite kinds of music. From the Feelies to the Violent Femmes to Half Japanese, there’s just something endearing about AV Club outcasts doing it for themselves. And few bands did it for themselves quite like Kansas's very own Embarrassment, who, considering their remote Midwestern location, had virtually no choice in the matter. This is what made their edgy, offbeat music so strangely compelling and unpredictable. That, and the fact many of their songs covered weird topics not previously tackled before. For example, "Elizabeth Montgomery's Face" referenced the attractive star of 1960's (and early-70s) ABC sitcom, Bewitched—about a witch who marries a very mortal ad man (pre-dating I Dream of Jeannie by a full year)—all the way to her time as the "Queen of Password," a popular game show in the '70s. In other words, perfect fodder for a herky-jerky band of four-eyed friends from (Be)Wichita, Kansas.

22 "In Quintessence" | Squeeze

I was first introduced to the music of Squeeze by my sister, who owned a copy of the band's 1981 album, East Side Story, and played the shit out of it that year. While “Tempted” was rightfully the acknowledged classic from the record, and it holds up as just that, my personal favorite was always album-opener, “In Quintessence,” which benefited from a beat that sounded a little like a sped-up version of Otis Redding's "I Can't Turn You Loose" (also used as the Blues Brothers' intro song). Difford and Tilbrook were to the 80s what Lennon and McCartney were to the 60s, barely able to write anything other than catchy pop tunes that stuck in your head from your first listen forward. I didn’t realize it at the time, but "In Quintessence" is loosely about the life of a teenage boy, one basically my age at the time I first heard it, complete with sexual fantasies and the tissue box that "comes" with it.

21 "Swords & Tequila" | Riot

Booze and rock and roll. Ho-fucking-hum. Beaten to death. You'll need to do something more original than that to really get my attention. New York City's Riot realized that way back in 1981 when they mixed tequila, rock and roll, and weapons into a volatile cocktail for their career-best record, Fire Down Under. Riot was a slightly-better-than-you-remember metal band with a penchant for absolutely atrocious album-cover art (their mascot, pictured above, was inexplicably an angel-haired, beady-eyed seal face attached to a human body). In their prime, the band did have a knack for writing an arena rocker or two per album that, when added together, made for a solidly rocking bite-sized power-set. Best of all was "Swords & Tequila," one of the great metal singles of the 80s. Hilariously, rock bands always seem to think their way of life is under siege by everybody else and they like to write songs about fighting in the streets to preserve it (see Axe's "Rock 'n' Roll Party in the Streets," also from 1981 for further proof). So here's an epic tale of drunken carnage for you. I absolutely love it and always have, but I have to admit that it might not have made this list if not for the part of the song where lead singer Guy Speranza yells "And I just don't mean kickin' ass!" at the 2:12 mark for no reason at all. It cracks me up every time. I wait for it to arrive. Through the sword fighting and the tequila guzzling, I wait for it.

20 "Bloodstains" | Agent Orange

I’ve lost my sense

I’ve lost control

I’ve lost my mind

The barked chorus of "Bloodstains," captioned above, is therapeutic to scream along with, just the release I need before I delve back into the fray of my relatively conventional work life that's agonizingly professional and maddeningly hypocritical in equal measures. Am I the only one who watches the show Severance with a "wishful thinking" perspective? This song is particularly effective moments before ignition shut-off. It gives me just the right balance between my real passion and my fake one. It's my subtle, unvoiced form of rebellion that I count on to push me through until the ride home, where my four-wheeled rage room awaits.

19 "Lonely is the Night" | Billy Squier

If he was only a dude tapping into a Robert Plant fetish, he wouldn’t be on this list. He also had some pretty smokin' songs of his own. Big hit, “The Stroke,” was a scathing indictment of the record business. “In the Dark” was a rock song with a sinister wind-up. “My Kinda Lover” (a near miss for this spot) was a swaggering late-70s rock star jam set in the early 80s. I could go on, but the song that set me and my friends afire back in 1981 was “Lonely is the Night” a classic FM banger with a howling vocal, blistering guitar riffs, and huge pounding drums that sounded epic pumping from large speaker cones. I mean, with Led Zep out of the picture after John Bonham's grisly death six months earlier, there was an opening for such a sound, was there not? And many teens had big sound systems back in the 80s when loud stereos were the electronics of choice, not silly iPhones paired with lame-ass Bluetooth speakers. We required volume. Wattage was everything and the only thing. And “Lonely is the Night” sucked up all the wattage you could throw at it, full of throbbing sexuality and stop-start teasing that a young kid could really crank up to 11 for maximum impact.

18 "That's When I Reach for My Revolver" | Mission of Burma

Title loosely based on this oft misquoted line from a Nazi-friendly play (Schlageter by Hanns Johst—not being reprised on Broadway anytime soon), "When I hear the word culture, I release the safety catch on my Browning." (A Browning being a popular gun with the Nazis.) In other words, culture has no place in times of war. Or something remotely like that. Nonetheless, leave it to Clint Conley of Mission of Burma to make a classic post-punk song from such an abhorrent source. From the EP Signals, Calls, and Marches, I've used the song for my own purposes many, many times. After being cut off in traffic, after seeing someone chuck a bag of trash out their window, after finding a pound of ground beef wedged in the gum area of a supermarket checkout lane, I immediately think, "This is when I reach for my revolver." If I ever get one, someone could be in for quite a surprise.

17 "You Better You Bet" | The Who

Say what you want about the post-classic period of the Who, but you have to admit their songs after Who Are You sound markedly different than any other period of the band's existence. And I like it that way. Face Dances has some songs that don't seem tethered at all to their past, a notable accomplishment. It's Hard, underwhelming as it may be, also contained at least two amazing Who gems—"Athena" and "Eminence Front"— that are unlike anything else they'd done prior. "YB2" ranks as one of the band's most propulsive singles, a blast of frenetic energy and a totally refreshing take on the Who's sound. It's one of their most underrated songs.

16 "Loud Music in Cars" | Billy Bremner

One of my favorite Stiff singles ever and that’s saying something, especially considering my love for all things released by Stiff Records during its prime (late-70s, early-80s). From a label known for their edgy punk and New Wave tracks, “Loud Music in Cars” was about a familiar subject—the love of loud music. And if in a car, even better. Cruising was a real thing back in the 80s. Not old enough to drink back in 1981, our next option was flying around the streets and highways of Chicago with our favorite songs cranking out of the car's windows. I remember those days fondly. I wasn’t aware of Billy Bremner at the time, but he hit the vibe perfectly on this undervalued pop nugget.

15 "What's He Got?" | The Producers

“What’s He Got?” is unfairly left off lists of the greatest power-pop singles ever for some reason. I don’t get it. Perhaps some don’t define it as such, but they should. It’s everything the genre requires and then some. It was a dancefloor favorite about the age-old conundrum of why a girl chooses one guy over the another. The answer, all too simple is this. He’s got you. That’s what he’s got. It's not rocket science.

14 "Super Freak" | Rick James

Yes, it has been used and abused, but there are but a few songs in music history that have the rubber band elasticity of Rick James’s “Super Freak.” I’ve never been able to resist its main hook as a result. As a composition it is near perfect in its simplicity, sexuality, and goovability. See, now I'm making up words. That's when you know you've got something truly freaky.

13 "Tainted Love" | Soft Cell

Normally, it’s essential that the majority of listeners be familiar with the source material of a song in order for them to appreciate the cover version. Soft Cell’s synthesized update on Gloria Jones’ somewhat obscure 1964 Stax B-side is a prime example of the exception to this rule. Most act with surprise on discovering the song’s origins were as a soul single by a relatively unknown soul diva more noted for being the girlfriend of T. Rex’s Marc Bolan than for her recorded output. But by highlighting Soft Cell’s killer one-hit wonder version, you highlight the fact that there's often more than one way to approach a great song. One of the finest cover songs ever made, in my opinion.

12 "Tryin' to Live My Life Without You" | Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band

Speaking of covers, this Otis Clay staple from 1972 first appeared on Bob Seger’s Nine Tonight live album—the equivalent of Live Bullet, but for his “hit” period—and the band absolutely knocks it out of the park, with Seger delivering a convincing roadhouse vocal about a man's realization that sowing his wild oats is going to cost him the girl he really loves. It has all the punch of the gritty R&B classic that it is, but updated for a rock and roll audience. In the process, it doesn’t lose any of its original soul, and ends up actually topping the original, which is saying something. All this from an old Memphis song, old Memphis song.

11 "Jessie's Girl" | Rick Springfield

I was obsessed with this song when it first came out. I didn’t care that it was recorded by a guy most notable for his portrayal of Dr. Noah Drake (the original Drake!) on General Hospital and a heartthrob to millions of girls/women thanks to his ubiquitous presence on the cover of gossip magazines. Simply put, the subject matter of the song captivated me. At the time, I was a young, shy kid who thought ignoring girls made me more attractive and mysterious. That approach, as you might predict, got me nowhere whatsoever. Routinely seeing cute girls walking the school hallways hand in hand with other, inferior (in my assessment) guys made me lose hope. What was I doing wrong other than acting completely uninterested? Couldn’t the girls still see what I had to offer? “Jessie’s Girl” showed that even the ultra sexy Rick Springfield didn't always get the girl he really wanted. We had a common problem! A great hook didn't hurt, either. Even today, I find the song to be one of those perfect pop songs. And it gets extra credit for introducing me to the word "moot" (I want to tell her that I love her but the point is probably moot), not used in any song prior or since that I know of.

10 "Winning" | Santana

"Winning" was an outlier in Santana's catalog at the time of its release on their not-highly-acclaimed 1981 record, Zebop! Compared with the band's classic tracks like "Oye Como Va," "Evil Ways," and "Black Magic Woman" (this was eighteen years before "Smooth"), it was relatively light rock 'n' roll fare with most of the band's usual Latin flavor toned down to attract a wider pop audience. While that sounds absolutely terrible, somehow "Winning" turned out to be a great little pop song. Interestingly, the song is actually a cover of a Russ Ballard song originally released on his album titled Winning from 1976. Santana’s version positively crushes the original. It's got some real nifty guitar from Carlos on it (of course) and a snappy vocal from Scottish singer Alex Ligertwood (no wonder the song was bleached of any trace of ethnicity). Its lyrics flow so effortlessly even passing listeners, to this day, know all the words. "One day I was on the ground / When I needed a hand / It couldn't be found / I was so far down that I couldn't get up…" and so on. It's easy to listen to, easy to sing with, and we can all get a charge from its positive message. Never give up, people! All you have to do it get up one more time than you fall down.

09 "In the Air Tonight" | Phil Collins

Secret: The Pickled Priest is a big Phil Collins fan. I love his voice. Sweet and pure, coming from an “everyman” who wasn’t traditionally handsome or sexy at all, but had a depth to his soul he could tap into when needed. He’s written some of my favorite love songs mainly because he delivers them with such convincing emotion (I submit "Why Can't It Wait Til Morning" and "Don't Let Him Steal Your Heart Away"). “In the Air Tonight” stands totally on its own though. There was no Phil song quite like it before and none after. And how many songs have a drum solo as its standout moment? And by the same guy who sings, no less? Answer: not many. There has been tons of speculation about the song’s meaning, but you don’t need to understand the full context to appreciate its sentiment. If you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand. Man, that's the definition of cold. How did he get to this point? What has wounded poor Phil so? The conventional wisdom is that the song is a byproduct of an emotional divorce (supported by some Collins statements about the song), but I like the alternate idea that he witnessed his wife’s lover drowning and didn’t assist. That certainly would’ve added a layer of intrigue to the song's lyrics. As if that is even possible at this point. As it stands, there are few songs that completely change your state of mind when they play and this is one of them. It's also absolutely devastating during a late-night drive on a dark road.

08 "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" | The Police

Based on what I've written so far, it should be no surprise that Sting's ode to a girl he's too shy to approach or even call is on my 1981 list of favorite songs. My main question for my teenage self is 'Why did you gravitate toward so many songs about unrequited love and loneliness?" I suppose the easiest answer could be "Misery loves company," but I'm not entirely sure. While Rob in High Fidelity asked himself 'What came first, the music or the misery? Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?' my take was always that they occurred simultaneously. I was usually miserable and music has always been my driving force. That "Every Little Thing" was such an amazing pop song didn't hurt. The hook, the chorus, the vocals, all perfect, but what makes it great is the "I resolved to call her up..." break, a genius little deviation, a ludicrous little plan, which jump starts the song's second half complete with extended "E-O" coda. As I listen to the song again now, I can't help but think "Every Breath You Take" might be its sister song, only a couple years later, where things have really taken an ominous turn for the worse. There's a fine line between infatuation and stalking.

07 "Magic Power" | Triumph

Few songs capture the magical power of music quite like “Magic Power,” which makes sense, doesn't it? I've always been a big fan of songs that laud and magnify the impact of a piece of music on a musician or a listener, so a song like "Magic Power," that conveys this feeling in such a dynamic and dramatic way, is right in my wheelhouse. Music isn't exclusively for the young, but it can make anybody feel young for a while. Music isn't exclusively for the free, but it can make anybody feel that way while it plays. Music can't solve your problems, but it can make you forget about them for a while. I could go on, but you get the picture. Music is something worth celebrating.

06 "Nicole" | Point Blank

If we can have an Amber Alert, then we certainly can have a Nicole Alert! A Nicole Alert would warn us when a hot girl is starting to go off the rails—hanging out with burnouts, staying up all night, spacing out at school, etc. It would warn us when an intervention may be in order. Cue the magnanimous Southern boys in Point Blank, who wrote “Nicole” for that very reason. Here we find the singer's dream girl in the midst of a precipitous decline, much to his chagrin. With a .38 Special-esque allegiance to melody and riffs they are here to save Nicole from spiraling any further. Yes, their intentions may be impure, but somebody's gotta step in, so it might as well be them.

05 "Let It Go" | Def Leppard

You'll have to pardon some of the songs on this list. I was a teenage boy in 1981 and my brain was still developing. Somewhere along the way, some mid-level metal got wedged into my cranium and made a home there, never to be removed. Sometimes it's better to leave the bullet in rather than risk a complex surgical procedure. Some may disagree, but my favorite Def Leppard songs are pre-Pyromania, when they were still a real rock band and not a producer’s masters thesis. Don’t get me wrong, those later years have merit, too, but give me “Bringing On the Heartbreak,” “Rock Brigade,” and “High and Dry (Saturday Night),” and I can feast on those (and a few others) for the rest of my life. There was some real bite to those songs, but the best of the bunch was “Let it Go” a real ripper that, while not feminist friendly to say the least, was a product of its time, which is important to keep in mind. Bad boys singing about bad girls was a big thing in the 80s, but few songs backed up the testosterone with as much force as Leppard in their early years.

04 "Unchained" | Van Halen

There is only one Van Halen for me and it’s the one with David Lee Roth on vocals. I don't acknowledge the Hagar years and never will, and I was a big fan of Sammy during high school, although mainly as a solo artist (thanks to Standing Hampton, a record we all loved). "Unchained" is a song that perfectly demonstrates my position. It has everything you want in a VH song and more. A nasty Eddie riff, a howling Roth, a heavy Alex beat, a thick Anthony bassline. Positively primal, not like the lame light-metal pop that followed. It's a charging juggernaut complete with a hilarious mid-song breakdown from Roth (not improvised but certainly embellished) that sets the tone for the remaining 50-seconds of the song. While Sammy was a chatterbox in his own right, he could never touch this kind of swagger. Nobody could.

03 "Tom Sawyer" | Rush

I was a young male when Moving Pictures came out, so by law I had to listen to Rush. I had no choice in the matter. The Moving Pictures Tour show I witnessed in Chicago ranks among my all-time favorite concerts to this day and not just because I took a half-tab of acid and drank a half pint of Southern Comfort before the show, although that might've helped. It was because the songs were awesome then and they're awesome now. Show me a song by any other band that sounds anywhere close to "Tom Sawyer"—keep looking. There are few songs that are immediately identifiable by their first two or three seconds and this is one of them. How do you even start writing a song like this? While some would call the lyrics pretentious, and they would be right, that's the whole appeal! High concept, baby! Embrace it, don't negate it. What has anyone achieved without grand ambition? What you say about his company is what you say about society! Do I have to make it any more clear than that?

02 "Our Lips Are Sealed" | The Go-Gos

This song was a staple in our high school when it came out, but I was much more into classic rock at the time, so I didn’t think it was a sanctioned song in my circles. How stupid I was back then. Sometimes it’s hard not to follow the prevailing tastes of your peer group. In private, though, I found myself loving the song, which became a key moment in my evolution toward my “A great song is a great song. Period.” mentality. Not everybody is born knowing that, and I certainly wasn’t, but that soon changed. To this day, I don’t think I’ve ever skipped over the song on a mixtape, playlist, or when played on the radio. To me, it ranks with the great pop singles ever made. It all seems so clear in retrospect.

01 "867-5309 (Jenny)" | Tommy Tutone

Man, I was a mess in the early 80s, but at least my messes sounded so fucking amazing! I rank Tommy Tutone's one-hit wonder as the greatest power-pop song of all-time and that's a hill I'll die on. What a concept—falling in love with a girl you've never even met! Ingenious! Who hasn't been tempted to call a number of a girl on a bathroom wall? It's an intriguing temptation, full of wonder and promise. While there have been many "phone number" songs over the years, no number is more well-known than 867-5309. I have long dreamed of getting this number for my very own. I could even live with the curiosity and crank calls in exchange for the honor of defending the imaginary Jenny from suitors with impure intent. There's not a second of the song I don't love, so I owe her that at least.

____________________________

I need to grow up at little. Next time, something from the 21st Century, perhaps.

Cheers,

The Priest