‘Look Ma, No Mike!’ N°1 – Vintage 80s Music Videos

1 . The La’s – There She Goes

The La’s “There She Goes” emerges as a fleeting masterpiece of jangly guitar pop, a track that effortlessly masks its deeper undercurrents beneath a breezy melodic façade.

Released in 1988 and polished in 1990 under the guidance of producer Steve Lillywhite, the song’s chiming riff feels both timeless and immediate, inviting endless debates over its meaning—romantic yearning or a coded tribute to heroin use? Pick your poison.

The lyrical simplicity, combined with Lee Mavers’ exacting perfectionism, creates an oddly magnetic tension that elevates its ephemeral charm into something like art.

This isn’t a track that loudly demands attention but rather one that quietly sticks with you, its wistful refrain rippling through film soundtracks (“Sliding Doors,” “So I Married an Axe Murderer”) and even the cultural noise surrounding Thatcher’s 1990 resignation, where it found accidental relevance.

Its staying power is no doubt aided by covers, notably Sixpence None the Richer’s glossy rendition in 1999, which introduced it to a younger, shinier audience but couldn’t replicate the enigmatic pull of the original.

If anything, “There She Goes” underscores the fleeting, maddening allure of The La’s themselves, a band whose reluctance to play the fame game only amplifies their cult magnetism.

It’s a perfect relic of its era and a curious cornerstone of pop’s playlist perennial—deceptively simple sonic beauty that refuses to let go, even decades later.

Featured on the 1988 album “The La’s“.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Wikipedia

2 . Scritti Politti – Hypnotize

Scritti Politti’s “Hypnotize” emerges as a sleek artifact of 1984, encapsulating a high-gloss blend of funk, synthpop, and R&B under the meticulous eye of frontman Green Gartside.

Lifted from the critically acclaimed *Cupid & Psyche 85*, this single predated the album’s release and reached a modest No. 68 on the UK Singles Chart, reflecting its niche appeal amidst the decade’s fervent pop competition.

Where *Hypnotize* truly shines is in its precision—the polished production almost surgical in its execution, with session heavyweights like Marcus Miller on bass and Paul Jackson Jr. on guitar deepening its sonic sophistication.

The accompanying music video, a mid-’80s MTV fixture, underscores the band’s penchant for marrying auditory polish with sharp visual stylings.

Interestingly, it’s the 12″ long mix of the track that has become a quietly valued piece for collectors, its inclusion of the sharp-lipped line “you hit below the Bible Belt” adding a splash of intrigue and rarity.

In America, where Scritti Politti hadn’t yet carved out notable inroads, *Hypnotize* remained an intoxicating import, bolstered by Warner Bros.’ curation of the band’s transatlantic offerings.

While the track didn’t ascend to the same peak as later singles like “Perfect Way,” it captures a moment when Scritti Politti balanced innovation and accessibility with an almost mechanical grace.

Fans continue to hold out hope for deluxe reissues of *Cupid & Psyche 85*, a testament to its staying power and the careful craftsmanship of tracks like *Hypnotize* that straddle the line between niche fascination and pop aspiration.

Green Gartside’s ability to evolve from post-punk leanings to an immaculate, genre-fusing sound makes *Hypnotize* a compelling chapter in the band’s idiosyncratic playbook of pop experimentation.

Featured on the 1985 album “Cupid & Psyche 85“.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

3 . Johnny Hates Jazz – Turn Back The Clock

“Turn Back the Clock” by Johnny Hates Jazz is a polished slice of late-’80s melancholia wrapped in slick pop production, embodying a wistful yearning for the past.

Released as the title track for their debut album, it quickly became one of the group’s most identifiable songs, surging to No. 5 on the UK Singles Chart and peaking at No. 12 on the Billboard Hot 100.

Thematically, it taps into an eternal human desire: the longing to undo past decisions or relive bygone moments, all set against the backdrop of glossy synthesizers and Clark Datchler’s earnest vocals.

Its elegant simplicity creates a potent mix of introspection and singable pop appeal, underscored by lyrics that both mourn and cherish the fleeting nature of life’s pivotal moments.

Kim Wilde’s understated background vocals add a layer of subtle intrigue, an emblem of the collaborative ethos that peppered the era’s production trends.

The accompanying music video, drenched in soft lighting and evocative imagery, reinforces the song’s pensive mood, elevating its bittersweet narrative with visual panache.

The inclusion of this track in subsequent compilations and retrospectives frames it as a cornerstone of Johnny Hates Jazz’s brief but impactful run in pop history, solidifying its status as a quintessential ’80s anthem for reflective hearts and wistful minds alike.

Featured on the 1987 album “Turn Back The Clock”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

4 . Thompson Twins – Lay Your Hands On Me

Thompson Twins’ “Lay Your Hands On Me” is a synthpop anthem that manages to balance introspection with theatrical flair. Originally part of the band’s UK album “Into the Gap,” the track saw a reimagined release in 1985 for their U.S. audience, incorporating the polished touch of Nile Rodgers alongside its original producers, Alex Sadkin and Tom Bailey. The dual versions don’t just reflect geographical marketing strategies but highlight the band’s evolving sound, straddling the line between introspective new wave and chart-friendly pop packaging.

Lyrically, it’s steeped in themes of connection and ritual, borrowing from the ecclesiastical practice of “laying on of hands.” Frontman Tom Bailey’s church choir upbringing subtly makes its way into the track’s DNA, creating a bridge between spiritual motifs and the mass rituals of pop concerts. Its central message—yearning for human contact in a detached modern world—resonates distinctly against the glossy synths that encapsulate the decade’s sonic zeitgeist.

The song’s aesthetic found an equally evocative companion in Brian Grant’s music video, a visual offering with ceremonial undertones that matched the song’s meditative energy. Performance-wise, it reached a peak moment during the Thompson Twins’ Live Aid set at Philadelphia’s JFK Stadium, where Madonna, Nile Rodgers, and Steve Stevens joined them on stage. The live iteration didn’t just underscore its collaborative strength but showcased its ability to transcend studio abstraction with palpable immediacy.

Commercially, the single etched its success into the ‘80s landscape, spending twenty weeks on the Billboard Hot 100 and peaking at number 6. This marked the Thompson Twins’ ascent in the U.S. pop hierarchy, solidifying their reputation as synthpop heavyweights. Compared to other hits like “Hold Me Now” and “King for a Day,” the song illustrates the band’s calculated versatility, reminding listeners that even within the constraints of synth-driven pop, there’s room for earnestness.

Given its themes of touch and intimacy, “Lay Your Hands On Me” reflects an intriguing tension—a song that yearns for personal connection wrapped in a highly produced, electronically charged package. It’s an irony shared with much of the Thompson Twins’ work: human vulnerability delivered through the clinical precision of machines. Yet, this duality is what makes their music endure—relatable heartache with a synthetic heartbeat, forever entangled in the contradictions of its era.

Featured on the 1985 album “Here’s To Future Days”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Wikipedia

5 . The Look – I Am The Beat

In a landscape dominated by polished pop and looming post-disco, The Look’s “I Am the Beat” hit the UK music scene in 1980 like a sly grin at a formal dinner party.

The track, steeped in energetic new wave rhythms, carried a raw charisma that was both endearing and undeniably catchy.

The kind of song that drags you onto the dance floor despite your better judgment, it landed a deserved No. 6 spot on the UK Singles Chart in early 1981.

The production, helmed by Grahame Skinner, added a touch of Motown brass polish to the otherwise angular new wave aesthetic, which, to the frustration of the band, strayed from their preferred edgier, live sound.

Frontman Jonny Whetstone lamented the clash with MCA Records over production choices, a battle emblematic of the endless tug-of-war between artistic vision and commercial viability.

If you listen closely, though, you’ll find a vibrancy in the tension—swagger in the rhythm, individuality in each note, and a sharp excitement throughout its nearly three minutes of controlled chaos.

Thematically, the song isn’t trying to unpack existential questions—it’s an unabashed tribute to the beat itself, looping its mantra in a way that sticks in your head long after the turntable has stopped spinning.

Its infamous locked groove pressing ensured that vinyl enthusiasts could bask in its hypnotic chants indefinitely, granted they hadn’t already worn it out on repeat spins.

Despite falling victim to a classic case of debut-single oversaturation, The Look rode the wave of their success on tours supporting heavyweights like Slade, sharpening their craft under the relentless pressure of fleeting fame.

The video, meanwhile, boasted a fittingly episodic charm, getting airtime that amplified the track’s reach during a time when TV exposure often decided an artist’s fate.

But as abruptly as they arrived, the spotlight dimmed.

Their follow-up single “Feeding Time” peered into the charts but barely got its foot in the door, halting at #50, a valiant but sobering reminder of the industry’s fickleness.

Over time, “I Am the Beat” earned its spot on nostalgically curated compilations and playlists celebrating early ‘80s gems, a relic that deftly captures both the promise and limitations of its era.

The band’s 2005 reformation tried to rekindle the spark with the aptly named album “Pop Yowlin’,” though the world had moved on, more interested in that singular, unforgettable rhythm of yesteryear than anything new.

In retrospect, “I Am the Beat” operates on two frequencies: an undeniable time capsule of early ‘80s ambition, and a reminder of how fleeting the pop machinery can be for those who don’t quite fit its mold.

Featured on the 1981 album “The Look”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

6 . Curiosity Killed The Cat – Down To Earth

Curiosity Killed the Cat’s “Down to Earth” is a crisp entry from the 1986 album *Keep Your Distance,* striking a balance between funk-tinged grooves and glossy pop sophistication.

The track, produced under the meticulous guidance of Stewart Levine, who previously sculpted sounds with Simply Red and Hugh Masekela, became a surprise triumph, ascending to No. 3 on the UK Singles Chart in 1987.

Its momentum at the time leaned heavily on the band’s insistence to release it amidst industry pushback—a gamble that paid off handsomely.

The accompanying music video managed to encapsulate the vibrant cultural nexus of the 80s, featuring none other than Andy Warhol, a cameo that remains burned into British pop nostalgia.

The song’s buoyant instrumental layers and introspective lyrics juxtaposed youth exuberance with a taste for elegance, falling neatly into the “Sophisti-pop” genre that characterized much of the era’s ambitious crossover between jazz-lite stylings and chart-ready hooks.

Though absent from award ceremonies, it wasn’t without impact—stretching its reach to the U.S., where it carved a minor foothold on the Billboard Hot Dance/Club Play Chart.

Beneath the polished horns and catchy refrains lies an interesting story of persistence: the band didn’t play by the rules, and neither did their sound, pushing them into global consciousness.

Released in an array of formats, including 12” remixes, the track catered to every market-fickle DJ and purist collector, ensuring its adaptability as both a radio-friendly number and a late-night club staple.

More than just a chart climber, the single stood as a metaphor for ambition tempered by self-reflection, quietly resisting the overblown theatrics of other contemporaries, opting instead for uncluttered charm.

Featured on the 1986 album “Keep Your Distance”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Wikipedia

7 . Starship – We Built This City

Starship’s “We Built This City” is a peculiar artifact of ‘80s pop culture, blending soaring synths with lyrics that tiptoe around nostalgia and commercialism.

The songwriting team—Bernie Taupin, Martin Page, Dennis Lambert, and Peter Wolf—transformed it from a moody lament about the decline of live music in Los Angeles into a neon-glazed anthem supposedly celebrating San Francisco’s music scene.

Despite its ostensibly rebellious spirit, the track’s glossy production feels more corporate than countercultural, a curious contradiction for a band emerging from the iconoclastic roots of Jefferson Airplane.

Grace Slick’s voice adds a layer of gravitas, making her the oldest woman to lead a Billboard-topping single at the time, but the song’s catchiness often overshadows its message.

And then there’s the DJ interlude—voiced by MTV executive Les Garland—which manages to both anchor the song’s narrative and crank up its kitsch factor.

Its accompanying music video doubles down on the theme, juxtaposing gritty cityscapes with the band donning outfits that scream 1985 in the best and worst ways.

Commercial success came easily: it raced to number one on multiple charts and secured a Grammy nomination, securing its spot on countless ‘80s playlists and as a karaoke guilty pleasure.

Critics, however, were less charmed; Blender’s infamous label of the song as the “worst of all time” cemented its role in debates about art versus commercialism.

In hindsight, the song’s legacy is one of contrasts—its mass appeal seems forever at odds with the scorn it often draws.

It’s not an anthem of rebellion but of assimilation, reflecting a moment when rock’s rebellious heart was softened into a marketable sheen of mainstream success.

Featured on the 1985 album “Knee Deep in the Hoopla”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

8 . Soft Cell – Where The Heart Is

“Where the Heart Is” by Soft Cell carves out a stark, dramatic niche in the duo’s discography, blending their signature synth-infused melancholy with an unexpected departure in tone.

Originally released as the lead single from their sophomore album, “The Art of Falling Apart,” the track arrived in late 1982, positioned to follow the success of earlier hits like “Tainted Love.”

Yet, its climb on the UK Singles Chart stalled at number 21, a modest performance that hinted at a public not entirely sold on its raw, discordant energy.

Musically, the song pairs Marc Almond’s impassioned vocals with David Ball’s layered electronic production, though it substitutes glam theatrics for a grim introspection reminiscent of tension-filled holiday gatherings—a mood Almond himself linked to strained familial exchanges.

The accompanying B-side, “It’s a Mug’s Game,” reinforces the era’s kitchen-sink realism, albeit with a more playful edge, allowing listeners a glimpse of the band’s creative elasticity.

The extended 12-inch release added a sprawling take for late-night dance floor catharsis, though whether it had widespread club appeal is debatable.

Visually, the subdued music video connects with the track’s unnerving aura, leveraging stark imagery that’s more art-house than MTV-friendly.

While contemporary audiences may have expected the catchy hooks of previous Soft Cell offerings, this track instead experiments with darker atmospheres, prioritizing dissonance over immediacy.

In context, it’s a snapshot of a duo willing to evolve creatively, even if that sometimes meant alienating casual listeners longing for another earworm anthem.

Featured on the 1983 album “The Art Of Falling Apart”.

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9 . Midge Ure – If I Was

Midge Ure’s “If I Was” offers a glimpse into the mid-1980s obsession with synth-heavy pop balladry, blending introspection with an almost mechanical precision.

The track leans heavily on sleek production, co-helmed by Ure and Stephen Hague, resulting in a polished sound unmistakably tied to its era without entirely succumbing to its clichés.

Thematically, it navigates a hypothetical yearning—proposing an alternate reality where love and sacrifice collide—rendered poignant by Ure’s controlled yet emotive vocal delivery.

Unlike many one-man-band projects that can veer towards insularity, Ure’s collaboration with Mark King of Level 42 injects depth into the arrangement, notably through King’s bass contributions, which ground the otherwise ethereal soundscape.

The song’s initial success—topping the UK Singles Chart—feels almost inevitable, bolstered by an imaginative video featuring a Pin Art pinscreen, a gimmick that temporarily dazzled MTV-savvy viewers.

That said, the extended version and its inclusion of a David Bowie cover point to a broader ambition, suggesting Ure’s willingness to stretch beyond commercial-friendly confines.

Interestingly, the B-side track “Piano,” a quieter moment of resolution, rounds out the single’s offering, catering to listeners looking for contrast rather than conformity.

For all its glossy sheen and period-specific sounds, “If I Was” ultimately remains a snapshot of an artist confidently at the crossroads of creative independence and mainstream viability.

Featured on the 1985 album “The Gift”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

10 . The Communards – So Cold The Night

“So Cold the Night” by The Communards radiates a unique blend of melancholy and irony, wrapped in a Hi-NRG and synthpop package characteristic of the mid-1980s.

Jimmy Somerville’s falsetto intertwines with Richard Coles’ meticulous piano lines, creating a tension between fragility and audacious theatricality.

The lyrics wade through the solitude of unrequited love, managing to balance personal longing with pointed social undertones, a duality the duo consistently thrived upon.

Described by one critic as laced with “clandestine Hi-NRG Balkan folk influences,” the track feels both familiar and unsettlingly different, an ambitious foray in storytelling set to a pulsating beat.

The music video, unapologetically dramatic, became an MTV-era visual staple, amplifying the track’s emotional resonance with a heavy dose of visual flair.

The single’s B-side, “When the Walls Come Tumbling Down,” nods to Nelson Mandela, layering a socio-political complexity onto the pair’s otherwise glittery exterior.

Their penchant for experimentation peaked in the 12-inch release featuring “The Multimix,” an audacious medley that toyed with structure and audience expectations.

The UK Singles Chart saw the track climb to an admirable No. 8, mirrored by similar success in European markets like France, where the single sold an impressive 150,000 copies.

Its appeal lay in its contradictions—infectious yet haunting, intimate yet overtly performative—transforming it into a standout moment in the Communards’ repertoire.

Featured on the 1986 album “Communards”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Wikipedia

11 . Simple Minds – Alive And Kicking

Simple Minds’ “Alive and Kicking,” released in 1985 as the lead single from their seventh album, represents a pivotal moment in the band’s music trajectory. Moving toward a polished arena-rock style, the song marries optimism with expansive production overseen by Jimmy Iovine and Bob Clearmountain.

Robin Clark’s backing vocals, rich and soulful, serve as a welcome counterpoint to Jim Kerr’s earnest delivery, adding a layered texture rare in the band’s earlier work. The lyrics, interpreted by some as a celebration of romantic resilience and by others as a nod to nature’s enduring forces, leave room for multiple readings, reinforcing its appeal.

Visually, the video, directed by Zbigniew Rybczyński, captures the rugged landscapes of Scotland, balancing grandeur with intimacy. While the band’s commercial presence in the United States soared following “Don’t You (Forget About Me),” this song cemented their chart success domestically, peaking at No.3. Its hypnotic outro, a clear nod to The Beatles’ “Hey Jude,” encourages communal singalongs and gives the track a timeless quality.

Juxtaposing bombastic instrumentals with heartfelt intent, “Alive and Kicking” straddles the fine line between mainstream appeal and artistic ambition. Though the band would evolve further in subsequent years, the essence of their 1980s ethos arguably peaks with this track—anthemic yet introspective, grand yet grounded.

Featured on the 1985 album “Once Upon a Time “.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

12 . Tears For Fears – Shout

Bursting with raw energy and defiance, Tears for Fears’ “Shout” stands as one of the most resonant anthems to emerge from the 1980s synth-pop era.

Released in 1984 and crafted by Roland Orzabal and Ian Stanley, the track juxtaposes soaring choruses with dense, new wave instrumentation, creating a sonic call to arms that transcends its era.

Often regarded as an “anthem of anger,” the song taps into themes of frustration and societal rebellion, inspired in part by Primal Therapy—a psychological method involving emotional release that influenced the band’s name and artistic direction.

The production, spearheaded by Chris Hughes, merges the layered, atmospheric feel of the decade with a bombastic delivery that demands attention, whether resonating from towering speakers or a nostalgic radio frequency.

But nothing screams mid-80s quite like Nigel Dick’s quintessentially MTV-ready music video, where moody cliffside visuals clash with indoor shots of the band in existentially charged reflection.

Initially underestimated as “just an album filler” within the band’s inner circle, its transformation into an international hit—spearheaded by chart dominance in the U.S., Canada, and Australia—points to the paradoxes of pop music itself.

While others lauded its accessible hooks, the song’s complexity lies beneath the chorus, with chords reportedly nodding to Talking Heads, an influence that reveals itself to those willing to listen beyond surface-level bombast.

“Shout” forcefully captures the push-pull tension between deeply personal catharsis and universally relatable despair—or empowerment, depending on how it hits you.

Its legacy endures, not merely as a staple of ’80s retrospectives but through reinterpretations like Disturbed’s snarling cover, which underscores the timeless grit coursing through the original.

For all its pummeling choruses and synth-driven defiance, “Shout” takes on a deeper resonance as a critique of conformity and a hymn to personal liberation, a pop titan that refuses to fade quietly into history.

Featured on the 1985 album “Songs From The Big Chair“.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site