‘L’Amour Toujours’ N°92 – Vintage 80s Music Videos
George Harrison, Gloria Estefan, Britney Spears, Phil Collins, Chris de Burgh, Eric Carmen, Kylie Minogue, Dire Straits, Marc Almond & Gene Pitney, George Michael, Kenny Rogers, Chicago
They are the performers of twelve vintage love songs that were ranked in various charts, this week (03/52) but in the Eighties 80s.
Here, they are reunited in one glorious playlist. Enjoy!
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For TWELVE more ‘L’Amour Toujours’ – Vintage 80s Music Videos – week 03/52 – click here
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Tracklist
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![]() 1 . George Harrison – Got My Mind Set On YouGeorge Harrison’s “Got My Mind Set on You” is a fascinating artifact of late ’80s pop-rock, as much a reflection of its time as it is a throwback to Harrison’s deep-rooted musical influences. A cover of Rudy Clark’s 1962 composition, it blends a sturdy melody initially carried by James Ray’s original recording with the glossy, layered production style synonymous with Harrison’s collaborator, Jeff Lynne. Released in 1987 as part of the critically successful *Cloud Nine* album, the track marked a high point in Harrison’s solo career, scaling to No. 1 in the U.S.—a feat that ironically would also signal the curtain call for any former Beatle at the summit of the American charts. The track’s charm lies not in lyrical depth—indeed, its simplicity borders on repetitive—but in its infectious, upbeat delivery buoyed by a reggae-tinged rhythm and Harrison’s unmistakably warm vocals. The music is breezy and unpretentious, a sort of antithesis to the self-serious demands of the synth-drenched decade it entered. Visuals accompanying the song lean into the absurd, with two promotional videos deftly playing with surreal humor: one featuring Harrison interacting with an animated den set and another situating him in an arcade brimming with mechanical motion. There’s a refreshing self-awareness here, a sly acknowledgment of the inherent silliness of a grown man earnestly singing, “It’s gonna take time, a whole lot of precious time.” Chart dominance aside, it basks in nostalgia without drowning in it, ironically becoming symbolic of Harrison’s reclamation of relevance after years of retreat, all while reminding audiences of his intuitive knack for wrapping timeless melodies in contemporary appeal. Though tied to the past by its roots and Harrison’s 1963 introduction to the song during a stateside visit, this rendition also projected him into future compilations and even live reinvention, as seen in his *Live in Japan* album years later. Its legacy may not lie in artistic reinvention, but rather in the palpable joy it radiates—a rare, genial punctuation in Harrison’s eclectic discography, made all the more poignant as his final achievement atop American pop charts. Featured on the 1987 album “Cloud Nine“.
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![]() 2 . Gloria Estefan – Falling In Love [Uh-Oh] (w/ Miami Sound Machine)Gloria Estefan’s “Falling in Love (Uh-Oh)” is the kind of track that feels like it was engineered in a pop laboratory circa 1986, with Miami Sound Machine’s signature glossy rhythms gliding beneath Estefan’s charismatic vocals. The title itself, punctuated by the playful “Uh-Oh,” sets a lighthearted, almost cheeky tone that mirrors the song’s effervescent disco-pop energy. Clocking in at a lean 3:58 on the album “Primitive Love,” the track was later reshaped for radio with a shorter single remix and stretched to indulgent proportions in its extended and dub versions, which push the boundaries of 1980s remix culture. Musically, it’s all synth stabs and an infectious pulsing beat, anchored by Estefan’s warm delivery that toes the line between sincerity and head-over-heels giddiness. Thematically, it’s a straightforward ode to the universal experience of tumbling into love, but the production, courtesy of Emilio Estefan Jr., gives it a neon-drenched flair that keeps it from veering into cliché. For all its fluff, there’s an undeniable professionalism at play—Estefan, even in her early English-language efforts, boasts a vocal maturity that elevates what could have been just another pop confection. Visually, the music video delivers a retro fever dream of big hair, sequin-drenched wardrobes, and choreographed exuberance, reminding viewers of a time when pop stars were expected to embody a certain kind of glamour that teetered between aspirational and camp. Whether one views this as a pinnacle of mid-’80s pop or a reflection of its overproduced tendencies likely depends on how nostalgic you’re feeling, but one thing’s clear: it’s pop with a capital P. In retrospect, “Falling in Love (Uh-Oh)” feels less like a standout track on “Primitive Love” and more like another shiny cog in the Miami Sound Machine hit-making blueprint. Featured on the 1985 album “Primitive Love”.
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![]() 3 . Britney Spears – SometimesBritney Spears’ “Sometimes” from her 1999 debut album carries all the hallmarks of late ’90s bubblegum pop, and depending on your tolerance for saccharine melodies, that’s either its charm or its Achilles’ heel. The track, penned by Jörgen Elofsson and framed as a hesitant love ballad, leans heavily on its featherweight Eurodance beat, wrapping Spears’ breathy vocals in a frothy cocoon of nostalgic production. Lyrically, it masks insecurity behind a veneer of sunny shyness, catering to a generation still swooning over Dawson’s Creek-level relationship drama, though its thematic simplicity often feels calculated rather than sincere. The accompanying video, set on the beaches of Malibu, features Spears choreographing in all-white—a metaphorical shout-out to purity culture baked into late ’90s pop marketing, which now feels quaint at best and stifling at worst. What’s ironic—and maybe telling—is Spears’ own ambivalence about the song, having distanced herself from it in hindsight, as if recognizing its bubble-wrapped, overly polished artifice didn’t age as gracefully as her more daring tracks. Featured on the 1999 album “…Baby One More Time”.
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![]() 4 . Phil Collins – You Can’t Hurry LovePhil Collins steps into the 1960s Motown era with his cover of “You Can’t Hurry Love,” a track originally crafted by the powerhouse Holland-Dozier-Holland for The Supremes. The track sees Collins fashioning his usual brand of pop into a tribute dripping with nostalgia, replicating the buoyant rhythms and gospel-tinged backing vocals that defined the original without veering into parody. The result? A clean-cut homage that’s almost too polished, lacking the irresistible grit and emotional punch of the 1966 version’s interplay of longing and restraint. Released in late 1982, Collins brings a level of clarity to the production that feels distinctly 80s—sharp, bright, less organic—an approach that propelled him to the #1 spot on the UK Singles Chart, ironically surpassing The Supremes’ original peak in the process. If anything, the track functions more as a showcase for Collins’ ability to ably mimic a sound rather than making it truly his own. The theme, centered on patience in love, resonates universally, even as the execution feels a little too calculated, stripping away the raw yearning that made the original a timeless Motown classic. Still, for listeners approaching the song without knowledge of its predecessor, Collins’ rendition serves as an affable introduction—a toe-tapping exercise in crafted retro-pop, if not an outright reinvention. Featured on the 1982 album “Hello, I Must Be Going!”.
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![]() 5 . Chris de Burgh – Missing YouChris de Burgh’s “Missing You,” a standout track from his 1988 album *Flying Colours*, offers a lyrical snapshot of love strained by absence and longing. Released on October 3, 1988, it quickly struck a chord, peaking at No. 3 on the UK Singles Chart and claiming the top spot in Ireland by December of that year—a testament to its undeniable resonance, even if chart positions are rarely reliable measures of depth. Set against the backdrop of roses, wine, and a beloved restaurant, the song paints a cinematic plea for reconciliation that is both personal and relatable. Musically, it leans into the softer edges of rock, emphasizing melody over grit, which, for better or worse, aligns with de Burgh’s signature style of digestible introspection. Thematically, it dances on familiar territory: regret, separation, and unconditional love, which might not reinvent the wheel but manages to evoke just enough sincerity to avoid veering into saccharine territory. With its lush arrangement and poignant lyrics, the track flirted with being overproduced, though its emotional heft kept it grounded. De Burgh himself, who has sold over 45 million albums globally, produced the track—his steady hand apparent in the song’s polished yet earnest delivery. Paul Hardiman contributed as a bonus track producer, though his impact here merits little discussion given the main track’s dominance. Despite its romantic overtures, the track’s longevity owes as much to its cultural timing as its musicality, embedding itself into late ’80s playlists as a nostalgic nod to simpler storytelling. The official video, oddly released decades later in 2019, reinforced the song’s themes but felt like an afterthought, a time capsule unearthed more for the sake of preserving legacy than recapturing its original energy. In the broader context of de Burgh’s career, “Missing You” stands out more for its commercial success than its innovation, cementing him as an ’80s staple, even while hinting at his contentment to anchor in a comfort zone rather than push artistic boundaries. Featured on the 1988 album “Flying Colours”.
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![]() 6 . Eric Carmen – Hungry Eyes“Hungry Eyes” steps onto the dance floor with its sultry melody and unabashed yearning, encapsulating the magnetic allure of ’80s pop-rock. Eric Carmen, who voices this gem, had his moment of chart glory when it climbed to No. 4, lingering for 25 satisfying weeks—a chart performance that speaks to its undeniable pull. The song is a collaboration of Frankie Previte and John DeNicola, the same minds who injected “Dirty Dancing” with its smoky, late-night vibe, steering the soundtrack into legendary status. Its lyrics lean into raw, unfiltered attraction, while the arrangement—lush with synths and a pulse-soft rhythm track—keeps a balance between intimacy and cinematic sweep. Carmen, a figure of introspective ballads and rock-tinged swagger, brings an emotional, almost soaring delivery that contrasts with the track’s polished sheen. “Hungry Eyes” finds itself at an interesting intersection, benefiting from the film’s cultural frenzy while standing on its own as a piece of distilled nostalgia. Oddly enough, its glamour doesn’t fully overpower its inherent cheesiness—a quality that either charms or grates, depending on your mood. Time and again, it reappears on compilation albums, like 1997’s *The Definitive Collection,* ensuring its legacy stays alive even if its flavor feels dated in some respects. A YouTube revamp in HD underscores its persistent relevance, even as its aesthetic screams shoulder pads and synth overload. Seen in isolation, it’s a confection that thrives on its cinematic roots but doesn’t break new ground, a snapshot of an era when desire was as dramatized in its sound as it was on-screen. Featured on the 1987 album “Dirty Dancing: Original Soundtrack”.
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![]() 7 . Kylie Minogue – Je ne sais pas pourquoi [I Still Love You]Released in 1988, “Je Ne Sais Pas Pourquoi” is where Kylie Minogue channels heartbreak through a faux Parisian lens drenched in nostalgia. The track sits comfortably in the late ’80s canon, built on Stock Aitken Waterman’s signature cocktail of drum machines, bubbly synthesizers, and fleeting guitar riffs—a formula tailored for dance floors and teenage bedrooms alike. Minogue’s airy delivery oscillates between longing and playful detachment, a neat representation of the song’s French-inspired aesthetic: glossy, enigmatic, and tinged with melodrama. The accompanying video plays dress-up in an imagined 1940s or ’50s Paris, with Kylie waiting in the rain for a date that feels more symbolic than real, as though embodying the universal sting of being stood up. Its commercial success was undeniable; second place on the UK Singles Chart for three weeks straight and a slew of international chart appearances cemented its broad appeal. Interestingly, it was initially packaged as a double A-side with “Made in Heaven,” but the market spoke loud and clear—nostalgia and French wistfulness won. It thrives in the pop arena not so much for reinvention but for its ability to be effortlessly likable while leaning into escapism, a hallmark of Minogue’s early work. Live renditions of the song, scattered across various tours throughout the decades, recontextualize its sequin-soaked storyline without outgrowing its youthful fixation on unfulfilled love. As for its place in Minogue’s catalog, it doesn’t quite have the assertiveness of “The Loco-Motion” or “I Should Be So Lucky,” but it wears its softness proudly, making it an enduring, if less flashy, cornerstone in her ascent to global pop stardom. Featured on the 1988 album “Kylie”.
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![]() 8 . Dire Straits – Romeo And JulietReleased in 1980 as part of Dire Straits’ *Making Movies* album, “Romeo and Juliet” unfolds like a cinematic tale of love gone awry, wrapped in the reflective sheen of Mark Knopfler’s guitar picking. The song draws heavily on Shakespearean allusion but trades Verona for a more contemporary stage, where heartbreak and miscommunication reign supreme. Knopfler’s voice, unpolished and conversational, meanders through lyrics that are less theatrical tragedy and more personal lament blended with wistful irony. The acoustic undercurrent juxtaposed with the electric slide guitar creates a haunting yet tender mood, amplifying the sense of longing. Knopfler isn’t afraid to make the narrator bitter—lyrics like “you promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin” expose universal wounds of dashed expectations wrapped in timeless metaphors. There’s a sardonic edge, but it’s undermined by the emotive guitar work that seems to weep where words fail. If the track feels cinematic, it might be due to Jimmy Iovine’s co-production, whose sensibilities lend a theatrical flair without veering into overproduction. Live versions often extend into sprawling outros, allowing Knopfler space to weave intricate solos, making the heartbreak feel less rehearsed, more lived-in. Its references to both West Side Story and Knopfler’s own lost romance mark it as both meta and achingly personal, a balancing act rarely attempted and even more rarely nailed. Featured on the 1980 album “Making Movies“.
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![]() 9 . Marc Almond & Gene Pitney – Something’s Gotten Hold of My Heart“Something’s Gotten Hold of My Heart” finds itself straddling two decades and two distinct styles, thanks to Marc Almond and Gene Pitney’s 1989 duet. Originally released by Pitney in 1967, the song already had a dramatic flair, but Almond’s reimagining injects a sense of heightened theatricality. The ballad, with its lush orchestration and sweeping intensity, captures love’s transformative grip in a way that makes romance feel both intoxicating and slightly ominous. The pairing of Almond’s brooding, textured vocals with Pitney’s polished tones is an unlikely yet compelling marriage, like noir cinema clashing with technicolor. At its core, the song thrives on the tension between the old and new, individual nostalgia wrapped in contemporary moods. As the production leans into the dramatic, complete with strings that stretch emotions to their breaking point, the lyrics themselves remain timeless, steeped in the universal vulnerability of love’s grasp. Its unexpected chart success in 1989 gives it an additional layer of intrigue, as Pitney, after decades in the background, finds himself catapulted back into the UK’s pop narrative alongside a younger generation. While it might not completely escape the sentimental trappings of its era, its artistry still lingers, like a film that knows it’s a touch melodramatic but embraces it unapologetically. The Las Vegas-shot video, with its cinematic nods to neon nostalgia and faded glamour, only emphasizes the song’s push-and-pull between past and present. In this collaboration, Almond and Pitney craft a moment that doesn’t just reinterpret a classic but also embodies the evolving landscape of pop music in the transitional haze of the late ’80s. Featured on the 1988 album “The Stars We Are”.
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![]() 10 . George Michael – Father FigureGeorge Michael’s “Father Figure,” released in 1987 as part of his debut solo album *Faith*, offers a smoky fusion of R&B, gospel, and Egyptian-tinged melodies that’s as atmospheric as it is ambitious. The lyrics, delivered with Michael’s signature blend of vulnerability and power, weave a narrative of devotion and protective love. With lines like “I will be your father figure, put your tiny hand in mine,” the song skirts the edge of sentiment without falling into the trap of overwrought drama. Its production feels simultaneously intimate and towering, a hallmark of Michael’s ability to combine personal themes with widescreen sonic elements. The accompanying music video leans into a high-fashion aesthetic, starring model Tania Coleridge in a sultry homage to the intensity of desire. Though George Michael later publicly acknowledged his attraction to men, the video notably presents a heterosexual love story, a poignant reflection of the era’s societal expectations versus personal authenticity. “Father Figure” topped the US Billboard Hot 100 for two weeks and left an indelible mark not just on American charts but internationally, securing top-five positions in countries like Spain and Australia. Its resonance is bolstered by candid lyrics like “sometimes love can be mistaken for a crime,” speaking to the complexities of longing and vulnerability. While some covers have emerged, such as Tori Amos’s ethereal reinterpretation, they seldom capture the raw intensity of the original. Few songs navigate the tender line between yearning and power quite like this one, making it as much a cultural artifact as a musical achievement. Featured on the 1987 album “Faith“.
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![]() 11 . Kenny Rogers – LadyKenny Rogers’ “Lady” enters the room draped in sentimentality, offering an unabashed ode to devotion and admiration. Released in September 1980, it quickly became a cultural juggernaut, reigning atop the Billboard Hot 100 for six weeks and securing a rare position of dominance across four different Billboard categories—an accomplishment that feels as calculated as it does impressive. Produced by Lionel Richie, the track resides snugly in the marriage of country and pop, a polished piece of crossover engineering that may leave country purists wincing but charmed radio audiences nationwide. The lyrics are as straightforward as a Hallmark card, offering clean-cut declarations of love that are easy to hum but arguably lack depth, though Kenny’s velvety delivery sells them with conviction. Richie’s hand in crafting the song is evident, particularly in its clean production and syrupy melodic choices, though his knack for emotional immediacy just skirts the edge of overindulgence. Originally written for The Commodores but repurposed for Rogers, one wonders if it carries an unintentional residue of funk drained of its vitality, leaving something smoother but less textured. Its place in history is both undeniable and oddly precarious—a gold-certified hit with over a million sales that also feels like it was engineered for maximum chart success rather than artistic innovation. Still, its legacy as the longest-running number 1 song of 1980 can’t be erased, a sentimental anthem that played perfectly into the zeitgeist of its time while pointing to Richie’s future as a solo artist. Whether performed live with earnest camaraderie by Rogers and Richie on platforms like CMT’s *Crossroads* or merely replayed on soft-rock playlists, it remains a touchstone of genre-crossover nostalgia that leans perhaps too heavily on sentiment but never overstays its welcome. Featured on the 1980 album “Greatest Hits “. |
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![]() 12 . Chicago – Look AwayReleased in 1988 as part of the album “Chicago 19,” the power ballad “Look Away” plants itself at an intersection of rock and adult contemporary, undoubtedly benefiting from Diane Warren’s penmanship and Ron Nevison’s polished production. It’s a track that trades the band’s signature brass for a slick, pop-rock sheen, a move that may vex purists but clearly paid off—topping the Billboard Hot 100 for two weeks in December 1988 and dominating Billboard’s 1989 year-end chart. Lyrically, the song zeroes in on the crushing realization of an ex-partner’s new relationship, delivered with fragile urgency through Bill Champlin’s lead vocals, which feel both polished and piercingly vulnerable. The accompanying music video, while unremarkable in visuals, anchors Champlin’s presence front and center, putting a human face to the heartache conveyed in the lyrics. Stripped of the brass section’s former prominence, one wonders if Chicago’s early fans felt musically ghosted, but there’s no denying the commercial wisdom of the shift. By pairing universal themes of loss with a radio-friendly arrangement, it’s a track that sacrifices some of the band’s distinctiveness for mass appeal, yet still carves out its place in late ’80s pop-rock canon. Featured on the 1988 album “Chicago 19”.
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