New York. By entering your email address you agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy and consent to receive emails from Time Out about news, events, offers and partner promotions. Thanks for subscribing! Look out for your first newsletter in your inbox soon! Our sonic roundup of the era that brought us Miami Vice, mall culture and more awesomely cheesy entertainment than any sane person can handle is wonderfully diverse.
Listen to these songs on Amazon Music. Lawrence and ultimately embarking on a midlife crisis that resulted in a worrying beard and Tin Machine. We defy your feet to stay on the floor as that cyclical, cynical, irresistible chorus hurtles on. In , Houston was still very much a fresh-faced siren with the crystal-clear voice and a world of possibilities at her feet. Her approach to this song�which, when you break it down, is more about loneliness than love�says a lot about her ability to radiate warmth and positivity through her singular sound.
It's miles away from the struggles the singer would face later in her career. Always a party starter and roof-igniting karaoke jam, the song become a bittersweet rallying cry in the years since her death. You can practically hear year-old smiling through the chorus, urging every last wallflower on to the dance floor.
Who can resist? As a cocksure teenager, Prince passed on four major-label record deals, demanding artistic autonomy until Warner Bros. And yet, the sharp crack of a proverbial whip yielded some stunning results in The Purple Rain soundtrack was thought to be complete, but the director needed a power ballad to lay over a montage of domestic discord.
It would be the pinnacle of his career. Nine years later, though, he came awfully close to outdoing himself with "Sexual Healing," his first non-Motown single released just two years before he was fatally shot by his father.
In , Tina Turner was 44 years old and on the comeback trail. The video found her strutting around New York City in a jean jacket, leather miniskirt and feather-duster hair�a bruised but defiantly happy paragon of independence. We may dismiss the '80s as an era of musical cheese, light on substance and heavy on excess.
We get so used to the sleek, funky side of Michael Jackson that it's easy to forget how hard "Beat It" actually legitimately rocks. And it's not just Eddie Van Halen's famous finger-busting solo; it's that perfectly formed sneer of a guitar riff�conceived by Jackson and played by session ace Steve Lukather�those exaggered downbeats that feel like medicine balls being slammed down on a concrete floor and the raw desperation in MJ's voice as he chronicles the harsh truths of the street-fighting life.
As much of a dance-floor killer as it is, "Beat It" is a genuinely heavy song, psychologically as much as sonically. Though it proved a surprise commercial hit for David Byrne's new-wave art-pop experimentalists, it's easy to forget just how deliciously weird this song sounded back in Serving up a heady�occasionally otherworldly�mixture of Afrobeat, funk, pop, rock, disco and psychedelia, the chorus of this existential anthem is huge enough to have stuck around for more than three decades.
But only one band had transformed that groundbreaking phrase into a musical piece that defined an era almost as deeply as the Ronettes. Play it somewhere you can howl along, loudly. The verse is contemplative and blue, an account of how bruised and confused the heart can feel, then the chorus sweeps you up with a heartfelt plea to understand what the hell's going on�it's blustery, sure, but also uplifting, featuring the New Jersey Mass Choir, the Thompson Twins and Dreamgirls star Jennifer Holliday.
Commented Mick Jones, of the recording process: "We did a few takes, and it was good, but it was still a bit tentative. Then they [the choir] got round in a circle, held hands and said the Lord's Prayer. And it seemed to inspire them, because after that they did it on one take. I was in tears, because my mum and dad were in the studio too, and it was emotional. Sade is just so damned smooth. It would be easy to be consumed by envy if we weren't all being lulled into a dopey, two-stepping, love-drunk stupor.
The Nigerian-born, U. When it comes on, you've got no choice but to relax and drift off into the quiet storm. The meme known as Rickrolling�wherein someone baits you with an enticing link, which points instead to the video for this dance-pop smash�always seemed a little puzzling to us, mainly because, like, who wouldn't want to be surprised with another exposure to this suavely buoyant megajam? It's impossible to feel bad when this tune's Caribbean-inflected rhythms start pumping from a nearby speaker.
The perma-coifed Commodores frontman's single smashes any attempts to resist its groove. And that bit that sounds like made-up gibberish?
It is. Richie attempted to find some suitable foreign phrases but got impatient and invented his own international party language. Listen out for "drifter" in the chorus, which replaced an earlier recording using the word "hobo," after lead singer David Coverdale worried that it sounded too much like "homo. Toto was a collection of studio ringers with credits on Steely Dan and Boz Scaggs records.
Wrapped in chest hair, sunglasses and terry cloth, these feathery dudes were too anonymous to be deserving of the term supergroup. Thankfully, the lotion-slick groove reeks more of coconuts than crisp money. Bush was discovered when barely into her teens, knocking out genius tunes on a piano in her cozy Kent, England, home. But her aching sensuality allowed her strangeness to connect with a mass audience. Few songs from the era are so rich and perfect.
As the s turned in the s, punks and rockers and there was a difference then both became enamored with the sounds coming out of New York City. Even the Stones went disco and dabbled with rap. No guitar act better assimilated hip-hop than the Clash, probably because they had so much practice sponging up dub.
It wasn't just a souped-up DeLorean that safely spirited Back to the Future 's Marty McFly home to the '80s: He was also aided by this ditty from harmonica-blowing everydad Huey Lewis, who penned the song for the blockbuster's soundtrack. It's about as sappy as they come, but Baby Huey smartly slips in a line about how love doesn't require a credit card, which, as anyone who's gone on a date in the past 50 years can tell you, is totally bull. But it's a sweet thought.
Maybe not surprising, coming from a band named after an amphetamine, but the U. The lyrics, about songwriter Kevin Rowland's youth as a sexually repressed Catholic kid, verge on dirty while remaining innocuous enough for your work-party karaoke sing-along. Fine Young Cannibals were so much weirder and cooler than you remember.
The trio, a splinter from the English Beat, had its roots in ska, but over two albums chiseled a new pop sound that would echo onward from Massive Attack to TV on the Radio. But you could still smash faces at the roller rink to it. In this opening cut, big sloppy washes of distorted guitar crashes over a rigid drum machine, as Roland Gift lifts it to the sky with his helium falsetto. The lyrics pour out in a nervy jumble of apocalyptic imagery, military danger and mass-media frenzy, with pointed name-drops of pop-culture figures Lenny Bruce, Leonid Brezhnev, Leonard Bernstein and Lester Bangs united only by their initials.
But its cut-through-the-chaos message still connects with anyone aiming to clear out a polluted stream of consciousness. Oh, that ill-fated bassline. Before Vanilla Ice famously ripped off, er, was inspired by the work of Queen bassist John Deacon, that subtle, infectious plucking heralded the meeting of two wildly influential rock icons.
Considering the titanic forces at work in this tune, it's relatively understated, but it does ultimately climb to the sparkling heights that both Bowie and Mercury inhabited with such ease. As critics continued to peg rap as a passing novelty, this big, lisping teddy bear from Long Island thumbed his nose at such stuck-up stupidity.
His records were as much comedy albums and demonstrations of sampling as pretentious works of art, which made them even greater works of art. Eventually, he had the shit sued out of him, and hip-hop was forever changed. Has a drum introduction ever sounded this big? This platinum-certified single is essentially Australia's unofficial national anthem, incorporating country pride, lots of local slang "fried-out Kombi," "head full of Marina Landscape Maintenance Inc zombie" and even the tune of a popular Aussie children's song, "Kookaburra," for the flute part.
Insanely popular in its home country, the song also made waves internationally, shifting millions of copies and becoming an instant karaoke classic. We'll still pass on that Vegemite sandwich, though, thanks. By this point, you know where you stand on this one: You hear Jonathan Cain's piano intro, and you either swell up with joy or wince in pain.
Whatever your take, you're about to get flattened by an emotional steamroller: four minutes of undiluted underdog yearning and a portrait of anonymous lost souls praying for luck and love on the streets of nonexistent South Detroit, starring Steve Perry's scarily, swoopingly elastic voice. This song represents the apex of scream-along arena-scale pop-rock. When it came to hair and emotion, bigger was always better. Turning jaunty Motown influences into icy synth pop may sound like sacrilege, but that's exactly what English duo Soft Cell did when it covered Gloria Jones's funky stomper in This is longing on a supernatural scale, and Tyler holds her own against the thundering arrangement as she roars out some of the least quiet desperation ever known to pop music.
If you're in an '80s cover band and you're not playing this song on a nightly basis�well, there's just absolutely no way you're not. Of all of the iconic guitar riffs on this list, the opening line from "Sweet Child o' Mine" takes the air-splitting cake. The third single from Guns N' Roses' shining debut, 's Appetite for Destruction , it was the band's first and only number one single.
More than three decades on, it never fails to make us sing our fool hearts out on the dance floor. You could be forgiven for thinking Janet Jackson appeared as a fully-formed superstar, but in actuality her first two albums were met with mixed reviews and achieved only modest success.
Catchier than a flytrap, more sordid than your craziest night out, Rick James hit the summit of his career with the wild funk of "Super Freak. Even that sampling by MC Hammer can't diminish its greatness. But no, the song, shot through with the Genesis-drummer�turned�solo-hit-maker's post-divorce bitterness, still unfolds with a dramatic tension worthy of Stanley Kubrick, layering haunting guitar wisps, pillowy synth chords and Collins's ghostly vocodered lead turn over a rudimentary Roland CR beat.
Oh, and there's also the little matter of the greatest drum fill in pop history at the mark. Complexity, be damned! Sometimes all you really need for a truly memorable hit is economy, as proved by this stone-cold classic from On "Push It," all-gal Queens hip-hop trio Salt-N-Pepa made pop magic via a seemingly simple combination of Casio beats; a few big, dumb keyboard stabs; and a lot of impassioned, steamy cries of "Ooh, baby baby.
Whether you take this hit as a cheesy relic or the apex of steroidal FM rawk, Bon Jovi's tale of guitarist turned dock worker Tommy and his diner-waitress main squeeze, Gina, is essentially flawless, right down to guitarist Richie Sambora's iconic talk-box�assisted opening hook and that vertigo-inducing key change after the bridge. The sexual innuendo is awesomely over-the-top did any teen couple in the '80s not make out to this song?
So there's that. Each and every element in the song is dancing. By the middle of the decade, the band was mining house music heavily enough to join a union in Chicago though always balancing disco ecstasy with melancholy in true Mancunian fashion.
A New Order single is like if Landscape Fabric 12 Foot Wide Electron architecture was flush with hormones.
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