‘We Are Live’ N°13 – Vintage 80s Music Videos
The Jam, World Party, Morrissey, AC/DC, The Jam, INXS, The Damned, The Boomtown Rats, Peter Frampton, View From The Hill, Barclay James Harvest, The Bluebells
They are the performers of twelve “live” music videos that were ranked in various charts, this week (06/52) BUT … in the EIghties 80s.
Here, they are reunited in one glorious playlist. Enjoy!
For TWELVE “Look Ma, No Mike!” – Vintage 80s Music Videos – week 06/52 – click here
Tracklist
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![]() 1 . The Jam – In The City‘In the City’ strikes with the urgency of 1977 punk, a sharp-edged commentary wrapped in frenetic guitars and a no-nonsense beat. Inspired by The Who but laced with aggression, Paul Weller’s lyrics spotlight the claustrophobia of urban life, where authority looms ominously in uniform. The single, a brash introduction to The Jam’s worldview, claws its way onto the UK Singles Chart at No. 40, a modest foothold but a loud statement. Musically, it’s a tightly wound burst, clocking in under three minutes yet brimming with the energy of rebellion, a nod to punk’s less-is-more ethos. Visually, the accompanying video juxtaposes the performance with snapshots of 1970s British realities, rooting the song in its socio-political habitat. More than a mere anthem, ‘In the City’ pulls off the trick of being both raw and melodically infectious, a rare feat for a debut number. Its influence echoes: fragments of the song are unmistakable in the Sex Pistols’ ‘Holidays in the Sun,’ a connection that fueled tensions between Weller and Sid Vicious. The Jam’s debut album shares the same title and expands on this defiant perspective, peaking at No. 20 and earning critical respect for its controlled chaos. In hindsight, ‘In the City’ isn’t just important for its era but remains relevant as a snapshot of youthful defiance, sneering at societal norms while still dodging nihilism. Featured on the 1977 album “In the City“.
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![]() 2 . World Party – Ship Of FoolsReleased in late 1986, “Ship of Fools” by World Party offers a sharp critique of societal lethargy wrapped in a melody that fuses rock and folk sensibilities. Karl Wallinger, fresh off his stint with The Waterboys, constructs an anthem with pointed environmentalist undertones, a rarity within the pop-rock landscape of its time. Peaking at No. 27 on the Billboard Top 40 and climbing global charts modestly, it’s a track whose bite outlasts its chart life. The lyrics, unapologetically direct, paint a picture of collective complacency as a “ship” headed for certain doom. Sonically, the song balances its message with atmospheric instrumentation and a breezy cadence, a juxtaposition inviting repeated analysis. The video amplifies the environmental theme, visually nudging viewers toward self-reflection without veering into heavy-handedness. From its inclusion in Greenpeace compilations to acoustic covers decades later, the song’s resonance stretches beyond its debut. Its presence on the BBC’s “Whistle Test,” slotting in last minute for The Smiths, only adds to its intriguing journey, one marked by cultural context as much as artistic flair. Featured on the 1987 album “Private Revolution”.
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![]() 3 . Morrissey – The Last Of The Famous International Playboys“The Last of the Famous International Playboys” oozes Morrissey’s signature flair for glam-infused dramatics, set against a backdrop of jangly guitars and stomping rhythm. Co-written with Stephen Street, its musical DNA borrows from post-punk edges and glam-opera swagger, filtered through a clear nod to David Bowie’s influence. Lyrically, it’s as much an ode as it is a narrative, weaving the infamy of the Kray twins into a biting critique of fame and criminal celebrity worship. The inclusion of Morrissey’s ex-Smiths bandmates adds a layer of nostalgia without overshadowing the track’s standalone identity. Released in 1989, its sixth-place climb on the UK charts demonstrates its resonance despite its peculiar romanticization of the underworld. The accompanying video pairs Tim Broad’s theatrical visuals with actor Jason Rush’s presence, leaning heavily on Morrissey’s flair for melodrama. A fine blend of wit, grit, and glam-rock sheen, the song achieves a peculiar balance: audaciously theatrical yet grounded in cultural critique.
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![]() 4 . AC/DC – Let’s Get It Up“Let’s Get It Up” by AC/DC stamps its authority as a hard rock staple with an audacious swagger that refuses subtlety. Emerging as the first single from the 1981 album *For Those About to Rock We Salute You*, it roars into the landscape with a bawdy lyricism that toes the line between cheeky and overt. Brian Johnson’s gravelly vocals lead the charge, while Angus Young’s scorching solo injects a bluesy grit underpinned by Malcolm Young’s steady, unrelenting riff foundation. The rhythm section of Cliff Williams and Phil Rudd grooves with precision, offering a tight backbone without overcomplicating the affair. Chart performance varied regionally, hitting a respectable number 13 in the UK and breaking into single digits on rock charts in both the US and Canada, though mainstream American audiences pushed it only to number 44 on the Billboard Hot 100. The B-sides—live cuts of “Back in Black” and “T.N.T.”—add a no-frills, raw concert energy for fans craving more. Lyrically, the song leans heavily into double entendres, gleefully unrepentant in its tone, which some praise as quintessentially AC/DC and others find dated. Stripped of a glossy music video, the track’s true essence lives on in live sets and fan-favorite compilations. Though not the band’s most iconic moment, its self-assured boldness fits seamlessly into their repertoire, celebrating the unpolished glory of rock ‘n’ roll excess. Featured on the 1981 album “For Those About to Rock We Salute You“.
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![]() 5 . The Jam – News Of The World“News of the World” by The Jam delivers a biting critique of media sensationalism through the lens of punk’s raw vigor. Released in 1978 and penned by bassist Bruce Foxton—veering away from Paul Weller’s usual dominance—it stands out both lyrically and sonically within the band’s catalog. Its sarcastic take on tabloid culture mirrored the disillusionment of the era, with its title referencing the now-defunct, scandal-laden British newspaper. The song’s placement on the roof of Battersea Power Station for its music video added a gritty, urban energy, aligning perfectly with the band’s ethos. Refusing to conform to album convention, it never found a home on a studio LP, yet its inclusion as the theme for *Mock the Week* gave it a second cultural wind. The accompanying B-sides, “Aunties and Uncles (Impulsive Youths)” and “Innocent Man,” further displayed Foxton’s range, though they never eclipsed the main track’s acerbic brilliance. Re-entering the UK chart in 1983 post-breakup, its enduring appeal lies in how well it dissects media manipulation’s cyclical nature.
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![]() 6 . INXS – This TimeReleased in 1985 as part of INXS’s “Listen Like Thieves,” “This Time” occupies a curious corner in the band’s discography, straddling earnest rock ballad territory and a slick nod to commercial ambition. Written by Andrew Farriss and Michael Hutchence, it’s a straightforward plea for commitment, carried by a mix of jangly guitar riffs and Hutchence’s resonant delivery that doesn’t entirely shake its studio polish. The production, helmed by Chris Thomas, bridges accessibility and restraint, lacking the relentlessness of “What You Need” or the atmospheric pull of “Kiss the Dirt.” Commercially, it’s a mixed bag—it scrapes into the Billboard Hot 100 at 81 in the US but rises to 19 on the Australian Kent Music Report. Its international chart lukewarmness mirrors its identity: it’s memorable but not exactly explosive, overshadowed by INXS’s later, sharper sonic ventures. The B-side lineup varies by region, an odd gesture to geography; from the extended remix of “Original Sin” in the UK to a Jon Farriss vocal detour on “I’m Over You” for the US audience. It’s a track that hints at the thematic cohesion that INXS is still refining, carrying seeds of the charisma they’d unleash in subsequent albums—just not in full bloom quite yet. Featured on the 1985 album “Listen Like Thieves“.
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![]() 7 . The Damned – Eloise“Eloise” by The Damned struts into the room like a Victorian ghost crashing a new wave soirée, all brooding theatrics and over-the-top drama. Originally penned by Paul Ryan and first performed by Barry Ryan in 1968, the track morphs into something strikingly different in The Damned’s hands—a gothic pop-rock opera dripping with excess yet delivered with unapologetic conviction. Released as a standalone single in 1986, it managed to outshine the band’s usual punk sneer, climbing to No. 3 on the UK Singles Chart and giving us a moment best described as overblown brilliance. The production bears a slick, almost cinematic quality, courtesy of Jon Kelly, while Dave Vanian’s rich, vampiric vocals elevate it to melodramatic heights. Oddly, “Eloise” never made its way onto a proper studio album but has been resuscitated across numerous compilations, proving its staying power despite its quirky anomaly status in their catalog. Barry Ryan himself preferred their version over his own, a rare musician-to-cover artist endorsement that adds a touch of irony and intrigue. The timing, though, wasn’t without drama either, as The Damned found themselves in a mini-chart duel with Far Corporation’s Robin McAuley, who had released his own competing version of the track. Predictably, The Damned’s gothic flourish crushed the competition, securing its place as a minor classic and a career curveball for a band not exactly known for its pop sensibilities. With lush orchestral arrangements clashing beautifully against punchy rock guitars, “Eloise” is every bit as excessive as it is addictive, standing as a curious, compelling testament to The Damned’s willingness to embrace the unexpected.
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![]() 8 . The Boomtown Rats – A Hold Of Me“A Hold of Me” by The Boomtown Rats offers a glimpse into the band’s evolving sound during a transitional phase in their career. Emerging from the 1980 LP *Mondo Bongo*, the track dips into a reggae-rock fusion, a stylistic detour from the sharp-edged new wave flair they were celebrated for in earlier works like *A Tonic for the Troops* and *The Fine Art of Surfacing*. The song finds its footing in a rhythmically loose, almost jangly arrangement that prioritizes mood over immediacy, with Bob Geldof’s distinctive, slightly melancholic vocals giving the sense of emotional weariness. While it doesn’t carry the punch or polish of chart-toppers like “Rat Trap” or “I Don’t Like Mondays,” it’s the sort of track that lingers in the margins, favored by devoted fans with a penchant for deep cuts over hit singles. Its noticeable reggae influence hints at the band’s experimentations and their willingness to dabble in a broader sonic palette, even as they edged away from the peak of their commercial zenith. There’s an undercurrent of vulnerability that forms the spine of the song, but without a signature hook or lyrical standout, it quietly slips into the background of the band’s discography. Trivia fans may note its curious hybrid of styles, yet its relative obscurity makes it less a cornerstone of their legacy and more an afterthought in the broader context of their work. Featured on the 1984 album “In the Long Grass”.
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![]() 9 . Peter Frampton – Lying“Lying,” a track from Peter Frampton’s 1986 album “Premonition,” lands somewhere between synth-laden rock theatrics and the bitterness of betrayal. Recorded at New River Studios in sun-soaked Fort Lauderdale, the song pairs its sleek production with Frampton’s signature guitar work and emotive vocals. The instrumental selection leans heavily on a dense synth bassline and swirling electric chords, offering a sound that screams mid-’80s excess. Live renditions tweak this formula, as keyboardist Bob Mayo shifts to a more subdued electric piano, trading the studio’s ostentatious energy for something faintly more understated. Despite its relatively modest peak at No. 74 on the Billboard Hot 100, “Lying” finds a way to endure in Frampton’s repertoire as a testament to his willingness to experiment within the evolving landscape of rock in the 1980s. Collaborators like bass virtuoso Tony Levin and drummers Omar Hakim and Steve Ferrone highlight the talent pool involved, but even they can’t fully elevate the track beyond its sleek but somewhat hollow emotional core. Its lyrics, steeped in themes of dishonesty and disillusionment, manage to resonate universally, even if its polished production risks tipping into the overly sterile. By pulling from both his ’70s guitar-rooted sensibilities and the synth-fueled aspirations of the ’80s, Frampton succeeds in creating a piece that’s divisive yet intriguing, much like its era itself. Featured on the 1986 album “Premonition”.
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![]() 10 . View From The Hill – I’m No Rebel“I’m No Rebel” by View From The Hill hails from 1984, riding the era’s wave of moody synth-pop with a whisper of soft rock introspection. The track didn’t exactly set the UK charts ablaze, settling quietly at No. 65, yet managed to carve out a modest footprint within the fertile soundscape of the mid-’80s. The single skips a connection to any larger album, floating instead as a standalone offering—perhaps intentionally evasive, like the rebellion it claims to reject. Released under Zara Music Records, the song carries a slick production value typical for its time, though its lack of major accolades or collaborations relegates it to the “blink and you’ll miss it” section of music history. What stands out here isn’t arena-level bombast but a sense of subdued defiance buried within the restrained melody and polished instrumentation. The song drifts on platforms like YouTube, though it hasn’t exactly stirred up viral fanfare in the present day. This track might not demand the listener’s attention, yet it quietly challenges you to notice its unassuming charm—rebellious in its restraint. Featured on the 1987 album “In Time”.
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![]() 11 . Barclay James Harvest – Love On The Line“Love On The Line” by Barclay James Harvest stakes its claim from their 1979 album “Eyes of the Universe,” marrying progressive rock aesthetics with lyrics that toy with romantic hesitation and longing over a smooth, radio-friendly melody. The song finds the band navigating a more streamlined sound compared to their earlier symphonic rock explorations—a choice that hints at their bid for broader appeal in the late ’70s. Vocally, John Lees delivers a performance that threads between pensive and yearning, supported by Les Holroyd’s layered arrangement of basslines and understated keyboards, pushing the track forward without straying into excess. Stuart “Woolly” Wolstenholme wields his mellotron with uncharacteristic restraint here, a notable contrast to his more bombastic work on previous records, while Mel Pritchard’s percussion settles into a steady groove that sacrifices flamboyance for precision. Despite its modest UK chart position (peaking at #63), the track managed to become a fan favorite in Barclay James Harvest’s live repertoire, suggesting its resonance transcended commercial metrics. Though some listeners may lament the track’s polished and less daring sonic approach, “Love On The Line” reflects the shifting ethos of a band both tethered to their progressive roots and tempted by the allure of accessible, love-themed anthems. If nothing else, the single serves as a time capsule of a precise moment in Barclay James Harvest’s trajectory, caught between ambition and adaptation in a decade increasingly unfriendly to the expansive grandeur that once defined their music. |
![]() 12 . The Bluebells – All I Am Is Loving You Baby“All I Am Is Loving You Baby” by The Bluebells stands as a nostalgic artifact from the mid-1980s, blending jangly guitar arrangements with buoyant declarations of affection. The track reflects a time when indie-pop dabbled unapologetically in heart-on-sleeve optimism, backed by tambourine taps and singable melodies conceived for radio rotation. While it doesn’t boast the cultural ubiquity of “Young at Heart,” this song leans into the same charm—the earnestness of youthful infatuation couched in a three-minute pop format. The Bluebells, fronted by Bobby Bluebell and the McCluskey brothers, carry their trademark melodic flair here, though the production feels tethered to its era, with its reverb-laden mixing and polished edges indicative of 1980s sensibilities. There’s no seismic innovation at play, but the warmth of the vocal delivery and the shuffle of the arrangement make for uncomplicated listening. This track feels like the B-side to a long summer drive—a song that knows exactly what it is: straightforward, catchy, and dismissed too quickly by critics chasing loftier narratives. The recent remastering of the track breathes just enough contemporary life into it to warrant a nostalgic revisit, though it remains firmly lodged in the temporal amber of its original release year. What “All I Am Is Loving You Baby” sidesteps in depth, it compensates for in cheerful sincerity—an unabashed time capsule of an indie-pop act unapologetically wearing its heart on its sleeve.
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