#perfectpopsongs

Robert Smith has supposedly been quoted as saying that Friday I'm In Love is a Cure song for people who don't like The Cure, and as such, it's easily their most popular song, at least in terms of mainstream radio play. As a pop song, it's fantastic and wonderfully catchy, but as a representation of The Cure's musical oeuvre, it's wildly misleading. In my opinion, Inbetween Days is a much better pop distillation of The Cure and the world inside Robert Smith's head. Like Friday, it's a poppy, upbeat track, but its lyrics betray its writer's pet themes and obsessions--death, aging, paranoid love and loss are all explored in a two and a half minute dance track. Before I was really familiar with The CureI remember buying The Head on the Door along with Disintegration at an Oregon record store and having the clerk tell me that it was their best album. The album is from an unusual time in the band's history, and is probably the poppiest piece of work Robert Smith has ever produced, nestled inbetween the psychedelic trip The Top and Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me, which retained some of Head's pop elements while leaving heavy indications of the dark, introspective direction the band would take with Disintegration. The most recent singles the band has produced have shown something of a return to the poppy sound of The Head of the Door, and while they're fun, there's still nothing they've recorded that can compare to the simultaneously uplifting and despairing Inbetween Days.

What can be said about Enola Gay? I'm normally not a fan of overtly political pop music, but OMD somehow managed to make a completely captivating song out of the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The sparse electronic opening of the song seemingly imitates the primitive electronic equipment used in World War II, as if we are listening to blips on the bomber's radar. However, it soon breaks into a lush calypso beat-- certainly at odds with the dark subject matter of the song, and all the more compelling for it. The unusual marriage of peppy dance music with human tragedy makes for a perfect example of good socially aware music. In cases like this, it’s rarely the subject matter that makes a song great, and here the lyrics are purposefully opaque, leaving the listener to decipher their true meaning for themselves. What brings it all together, however, is Andy McCluskey's passionate vocal performance, arguably one of the best of his career. Some of my favorite moments in OMD songs are when McCluskey simply cuts loose and wails the lyrics like a primal scream, as it creates a jarring emotional effect—see their equally political, underappreciated 1983 album Dazzle Ships for reference. There’s no doubt as to this song’s sincerity, and that’s what makes the difference between a good song and a great one. OMD recorded many masterpieces during their 80s peak, and Enola Gay is the crown jewel of the collection.

It's an absolute mystery to me how Sparks have managed to remain obscure despite laying the foundation for pretty much every synthpop act that has followed in their wake. When I'm With You, from their 1980 album Terminal Jive, is essentially a textbook example of how to write a great pop song: catchy synth hook, memorable (though oddball) lyrics, and an engrossing ethereal feel. Due to their goofy, verbose lyrics, the Maels have often been considered a novelty act, and it's no surprise that in the US they've received most of their airplay on the Doctor Demento show rather than mainstream radio stations. When I'm With You is unusually straightforward for a Sparks song, with surprisingly sincere lyrics about love and devotion. Hearing this song was something of a revelation to me, and I'm still amazed that it was never more popular--in a better world, When I'm With You is played alongside Take On Me on throwback radio programs. Sparks are easily the most exciting musical discovery I've ever made, and I really can't sing their praises enough. Their unusually dense and strange lyrics have kept them from mainstream success, leaving others to reap the rewards of their musical experimentation, but nothing can replace the genuine article. Oh, and please listen to 1979's No. 1 In Heaven-- it just might be the greatest album ever written.

We all have our favorite songs, or at least certain elements that we look for in music, and every so often we come across a song that catches our attention in a significant way. I'd been thinking for a while about certain songs that, to me, capture the essence of great Pop Music, and I Belong In Your Arms (specifically the Japanese-language recording) jumped out at me in a big way. This really has everything I look for in a great Pop Song: a catchy synth beat, lovely vocals, and a beautifully transcendent chorus. I only had to hear it once before I decided I needed to buy their album. The English version (included on their album Something, highly recommended) is very good as well, but I still enjoy the song more in Japanese, possibly because of the added layer of abstraction. Pop Music is rarely profoundly meaningful, and affects us more on an emotional rather than an intellectual level. By taking attention away from the words and more to the sound and feeling, the song is taken to another level emotionally, especially in the soaring chorus. Very beautiful stuff.