‘We Are Live’ N°2 – Vintage 80s Music Videos
Julian Lennon, Electric Light Orchestra, Eurythmics, Feargal Sharkey, Deacon Blue, The Cult, Fleetwood Mac, Simple Minds, U2, Queen, Gary Numan, Bruce Springsteen
They are the performers of twelve “live” music videos that were ranked in various charts, this week (01/52) BUT … in the EIghties 80s.
Here, they are reunited in one glorious playlist. Enjoy!
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For TWELVE “Look Ma No Mike” music videos – week 01/52 – click here
AUDIO ONLY
Tracklist
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1 . Julian Lennon – Too Late For GoodbyesJulian Lennon’s “Too Late for Goodbyes” is a synth-inflected pop gem from the mid-80s that dances on the edge of heartbreak and catchy optimism. As the lead single from Lennon’s debut album *Valotte*, the track packs a polished production courtesy of Phil Ramone and a standout harmonica riff by Toots Thielemans, which somehow feels both retro and contemporary for its time. Lyrically, the song tiptoes around themes of lost love and regret, yet manages to feel light enough to land safely in the comfort zone of adult contemporary radio, where it unsurprisingly dominated the charts. With its clever blend of modern production values and classic pop elements, the track secured Lennon a top-five spot on the Billboard Hot 100 and even reached No. 1 on the Adult Contemporary chart—a move that essentially positioned him as an artist capable of appealing to a multi-generational audience. What makes this release culturally fascinating is the inevitable comparison to his father, John Lennon, a shadow under which Julian was clearly expected to operate. Yet, rather than mirroring his father’s raw, often chaotic emotionalism, Julian’s approach here is tidy and meticulously crafted—a sort of polished rebellion against the chaos of inherited expectations. The music video, a product of MTV’s visual dominance in the 80s, comes with the intriguing twist of being directed by the legendary Sam Peckinpah, a filmmaker better known for gritty Westerns than for subtle pop storytelling. It’s tempting to overanalyze the use of harmonica and wonder if it’s some kind of nod to his lineage, but Julian has been quick to dismiss such readings, explaining the song stems not from paternal reflections but a past romantic relationship. Where the track most succeeds is in its ability to balance personal narrative with commercially appealing hooks, an approach that sold millions of albums and scored Julian a Grammy nomination for Best New Artist in 1986. While it might not radically reinvent the pop genre, “Too Late for Goodbyes” thrives by leaning into its strengths: a catchy melody, a soft sense of longing, and just enough 80s nostalgia to make it feel timeless but never cloying. Featured on the 1984 album “Valotte “.
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2 . Electric Light Orchestra – Last Train To LondonElectric Light Orchestra crafted a hybrid of disco and pop with their 1979 track “Last Train to London,” plucked from the album *Discovery* and spearheaded by the ever-eccentric Jeff Lynne. The song became a commercial success, reaching No. 8 on the UK Singles Chart and holding its own at No. 39 on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100—probably not bad for a pop-disco experiment that risked being dismissed as derivative fluff. What makes “Last Train to London” notable isn’t just its chart performance but the way it reflects late-70s disco’s last gasp before the genre saw its mainstream decline. The pulsating bassline anchors a slick arrangement punctuated by ELO’s signature strings, layered harmonies, and Lynne’s somewhat detached but oddly emotive vocals, capturing both the rush and melancholy of fleeting moments. Interestingly, some sharp-eyed critics have drawn comparisons between its groove and Heatwave’s “Boogie Nights,” though the comparison feels more like a knowing nod to the era’s trends than outright imitation. The song’s production is undoubtedly polished, drenched in the suave sheen of disco’s mid-life aesthetics, but cynics might call its charms formulaic compared to more ambitious cuts from *Discovery*. Despite this, its appeal has endured, resurfacing decades later through Atomic Kitten’s sampling in their 2002 hit “Be with You,” ensuring it stayed nestled in pop culture memory for a little longer. The accompanying string arrangements, courtesy of ELO’s trusty orchestral stalwart Louis Clark, add a layer of drama that stops the track from slipping completely into disco tropes, grounding it in the hybridized identity that defined much of ELO’s output during their flirtation with pop futurism. Lynne’s lyrical exploration of longing and fleeting connections is textbook in its relatability, but the execution gives it life before it becomes yet another trope about love lost on the move. With its nostalgic, honey-dipped melodies offsetting a propulsive rhythm, the song walks a comfortable tightrope between bittersweet storytelling and dancefloor escapism—and manages to carry both without losing its footing. Though some will argue it leans too heavily on disco’s mid-tempo safety net, there’s no denying its craft, even if it feels like a calculated ploy for mass appeal at points. The track isn’t a revelation, nor does it radically alter ELO’s trajectory, but it endures as a shimmering time capsule of late-70s pop’s multilayered ambitions. Featured on the 1979 album “Discovery”.
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3 . Eurythmics – Right By Your Side“Right By Your Side” by Eurythmics is a sunlit detour from their usually brooding repertoire, melding calypso flavors with pop sensibilities to craft a rhythmic blend that feels both buoyant and unexpected. Co-written by Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart, the track trades their signature synth-driven style for the vibrant clinks of steel drums and a brass section that swirls like a warm island breeze. The song found its chart footing, securing a comfortable spot at number 10 in the UK while taking a modest dip at number 29 on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100. Still, its charm lies beyond the numbers, anchored in Lennox’s tender reflections on finding solace in companionship, a theme unusually devoid of the duo’s characteristic cynicism. The accompanying Mike Brady-directed video plays with Lennox’s theatrical energy and vivid aesthetics, a visual counterpart to the track’s celebratory tone. Housed on their album “Touch,” which topped the UK charts, “Right By Your Side” stands as a testament to the duo’s knack for creative elasticity. Sure, purists might have bristled at the tonal shift, but for fans with an ear for the unexpected, this was an unfiltered moment of joy punctuating the duo’s stormier catalog. Featured on the 1983 album “Touch“.
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4 . Feargal Sharkey – A Good Heart“A Good Heart” by Feargal Sharkey threads the peculiarities of love and heartbreak into the fabric of mid-80s pop-rock. Released in 1985, it emerged as Sharkey’s crowning solo moment, riding the wave of chart success with a polished production courtesy of Dave Stewart from Eurythmics. The song’s origins are as intriguing as its chart trajectory. Penned by Maria McKee, it serves as a raw recollection of her relationship with Benmont Tench, keyboardist for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Layered with irony, Sharkey went on to record a follow-up track by Tench, “You Little Thief,” creating a bizarre call-and-response dynamic between two ex-lovers, all while standing at a safe distance from their emotional crossfire. Musically, the track is a slick blend of emotional vulnerability and radio-driven sheen. Sharkey’s distinctive voice—equal parts quiver and conviction—lends weight to McKee’s lyrics of trust and romantic fragility. Paired with Stewart’s glossy production style, the song navigates emotional wreckage without sinking into melodrama. Though Sharkey gained initial fame as the lead singer of punk outfit The Undertones, “A Good Heart” set him apart as a pop chameleon, briefly thriving in a genre worlds away from his punk roots. The single not only dominated UK charts but also found international acclaim, cementing Sharkey’s ability to captivate diverse audiences, if only for a fleeting moment in pop history. Interestingly, the accompanying music video amplifies Sharkey’s quirkiness, with his slightly awkward stage presence serving as a counterbalance to the polished production. Whether intentional or accidental, it underscores the personal turmoil lurking beneath a catchy, radio-friendly exterior. For an artist who left the spotlight soon after this solo run, the track remains a compelling artifact—a curious mix of personal drama, industry gloss, and fleeting triumph. Featured on the 1985 album “Feargal Sharkey”.
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5 . Deacon Blue – Real Gone KidReleased in September 1988, “Real Gone Kid” by Deacon Blue is an unapologetic burst of energy that slots perfectly into the late-’80s UK pop-rock spectrum. Written by Ricky Ross as a tribute to Lone Justice’s Maria McKee, it captures the fervor of admiration with a buoyancy that’s hard to miss. The song’s hooky chorus and vibrant instrumentation made it an instant crowd-pleaser, climbing to No. 8 on the UK Singles Chart and holding its ground for nine weeks. What sets “Real Gone Kid” apart is its celebratory tone, drawing from Ross’s observation of McKee’s uninhibited stage presence and distilling it into a track that embraces spontaneity without slipping into chaos. Its place in Deacon Blue’s second album, *When the World Knows Your Name*—a record that later achieved Platinum status—is a testament to its resonance during an era when chart dominance actually meant something. Featuring Lorraine McIntosh for the first time, the single marked a new phase, both musically and personally, for the band. While Deacon Blue saw success as one of the UK’s prominent acts in their heyday, there’s something uniquely magnetic about this song’s ability to straddle the line between personal infatuation and universal appeal. The narrative layers are subtle but present: an infectious upbeat melody veiling the introspective fascination Ross felt for McKee, indirectly involving listeners in the broader dialogue of inspiration and homage. For a group named after a Steely Dan song, they managed to infuse enough personality into their material to carve out an identity distinct from their influences. “Real Gone Kid” isn’t just a song; it’s a snapshot of a band hitting its stride, combining personal anecdote, cultural admiration, and pop sensibility, all draped in the shimmering textures of late-’80s production values. Featured on the 1988 album “When The World Knows Your Name “.
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6 . The Cult – Rain“Rain” by The Cult isn’t merely a track; it’s a snapshot of a band in artistic flux, bridging their raw post-punk beginnings and a foray into polished, gothic atmospherics. Ian Astbury’s vocals emerge as both commanding and spectral, draped over guitar riffs soaked in reverb, courtesy of Billy Duffy’s unmistakable “D drone.” Released in 1985 as part of the “Love” album, it marked a moment of mainstream flirtation, charting at #17 in the UK and carving out space on alternative rock airwaves. The lyrics, with lines like “Hot sticky scenes you know what I mean,” leave little to subtlety, marrying innuendo with a simmering tension that captures desire in its most fevered state. Tim Pope’s accompanying video added layers of surrealism, amplifying the track’s moody gravitas through enigmatic imagery. Despite its success, Astbury’s ambivalence toward the song becomes part of its lore, typified by his offhand comment at Wembley in 1989, where he dispassionately asked fans, “So you like that one?” This mix of cultural resonance and internal dissonance only heightens its intrigue, particularly as it remains a live staple decades on. Whether through its inclusion in remix collections or its surprise cameo in Italian horror flick *Dèmoni 2*, “Rain” has endured as a touchstone of The Cult’s catalog. It’s not just a song; it’s an emblem of the band’s evolving soundscape, balancing brooding melancholy with a slickness that pointed toward their impending evolution. Featured on the 1985 album “Love”.
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7 . Fleetwood Mac – Sara“Sara” by Fleetwood Mac sits comfortably in the band’s catalog as a peculiar blend of tenderness and enigma, its six-minute runtime trimmed to just over four for the single version but still managing to encapsulate its strange allure. Written by Stevie Nicks during the band’s famously chaotic “Tusk” sessions, the song is steeped in personal lore, laced with heartbreak, and drenched in nostalgia. Its lyricism paints an abstract picture, evasive yet emotive, tied to Nicks’ relationships—romantic and platonic—and shadowed by the aftermath of loss. The production reflects Fleetwood Mac’s post-*Rumours* experimental phase, mixing crystalline keyboards, soft brushes on the drums, and a bittersweet melody that sways between melancholy and hope. While Lindsey Buckingham’s precise guitar contributions offset Nicks’ misty vocal delivery, Christine McVie’s harmonies add further depth, creating a layered soundscape that feels both intimate and disjointed. The song’s mystique only deepens upon learning its backstory, from Nicks’ nickname for her muse to her admission of editing down a mammoth sixteen-minute original version, fragments of which haunt completists. Commercially, “Sara” reached No. 7 on the Billboard Hot 100, a testament to the band’s hold on pop-rock audiences even during one of their more divisive creative stages. The broader *Tusk* album polarized listeners with its avoidance of polished repetition, and “Sara” encapsulated this duality, adored by fans yet quietly controversial with its languid pacing and emotional opacity. Live performances of the track, often accompanied by dreamy staging, cemented its place as a concert staple, though it reached segments of its audience more through its understated presence than chart dominance. What makes “Sara” endure isn’t just its lush arrangement or tragic undercurrents—it’s the way it refuses to explain itself entirely, leaving listeners to grasp at its truths like puzzle pieces scattered over time. Who Sara truly is might not matter; the emotional echo of the name is its legacy. Featured on the 1979 album “Tusk“.
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8 . Simple Minds – Ghostdancing“Ghostdancing,” nestled within Simple Minds’ 1985 *Once Upon a Time* album, lands squarely in the band’s anthemic sweet spot, brimming with charged riffs and synth-laden momentum. Its placement on an album that stormed the UK charts at No. 1 while cracking the US Billboard 200’s Top 10 underscores its relevance to the mid-’80s surge of arena-ready, socially conscious rock. Co-written by Jim Kerr, Charlie Burchill, and Mick MacNeil, the track thrums with a steady pulse—equal parts protest anthem and dancefloor bait. The production, courtesy of Jimmy Iovine and Bob Clearmountain, amplifies its polished urgency, echoing their previous work with towering icons like Springsteen. While it lacked the standalone glory of a single release, the band’s integration of the track into their 1986 world tour cemented its role as a live staple, further amplified by its inclusion in post-’80s compilations like *Themes – Volume 4*. Sonically, the song leans heavily on Simple Minds’ signatures: expansive arrangements, soaring melodies, and Kerr’s emotive vocal delivery, which goes from wistful reflection to fist-in-the-air rallying cry. Interestingly, “Ghostdancing” carried an undercurrent of rebellion, mirroring the socio-political unrest of the era without devolving into heavy-handed sloganeering. The absence of a music video leaves it largely tethered to the collective memory of stadium performances, where its full-throttle energy connected with audiences on a visceral level. As a snapshot of its time, “Ghostdancing” exemplifies the high-gloss ambition of Simple Minds’ mid-career pivot while hinting at the global aspirations that both defined and complicated their trajectory. Featured on the 1985 album “Once Upon a Time”.
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9 . U2 – Where The Streets Have No NameU2’s “Where the Streets Have No Name” lands on the listener with urgency and ambition, signaling a bold opening to *The Joshua Tree*. Its cascading organ intro feels less like music and more like a slow-motion ignition, a masterpiece of sonic layering from The Edge and Brian Eno that edges toward chaos before pulling into formation. The process was so maddening that Eno nearly deleted the entire track—imagine that alternate history. Released in 1987 as the album’s third single, it didn’t sell physically in the U.S., and yet it still infiltrated airwaves, peaking at number 13 on the Billboard Hot 100 Airplay Chart. By contrast, the UK embraced it more formally, pushing it to number 4 on their Singles Chart. Its accompanying music video—a rooftop spectacle nodding cheekily to The Beatles—added to its lore. Filmed in downtown Los Angeles atop a liquor store, the unplanned public eruptions caused by the shoot cemented it as both audacious and oddly communal, earning the band a Grammy for Best Performance Music Video. Lyrically, Bono blends the spiritual with the geographical, offering a yearning for transcendence. The song began its life as a reflection on Ethiopia but ended as a meditation on the human condition. Its title evolved into a broad yet powerful metaphor: a place free of societal divisions and silently imposed expectations. Ironically, Bono himself considers its lyricism incomplete, leaving listeners to supply their own interpretations. This has only rendered the track more enduring, resonating with everything from sectarian divides to universal hope. Musically, the song pushes boundaries without losing warmth. The Edge’s shimmering arpeggios give an ethereal buoyancy, while Adam Clayton’s bass and Larry Mullen Jr.’s drumming keep the piece earthbound. The meticulous studio effort the track demanded—40% of the album’s recording time—makes you wonder if its immensity was orchestrated or a product of slowly taming chaos. Either way, what emerges is a sound that vibrates with all the ferocity of a live congregation. Over time, “Where the Streets Have No Name” has transcended its initial release, functioning almost as a touchstone for collective grief and hope. Whether it’s being performed at Super Bowl XXXVI in the aftermath of 9/11 or refusing a lucrative car commercial to avoid cheapening its message, the song has maintained an alien kind of purity. And, sure, while the Pet Shop Boys’ playful mashup deserves a mention, it doesn’t diminish the enormity of the original’s cultural heft. What’s remarkable isn’t just how the track achieves uplift, but how that uplift feels strangely personal no matter the scale of the venue—be it a stadium packed with tens of thousands or your living room. Bono says he feels as though “God walks through the room” with every performance, which, depending on your spiritual lean, either smacks of rock-star hyperbole or breaks open a pocket of awe. Either way, the song remains irreplaceable in U2’s ever-expanding catalog of live staples, unwilling to be forgotten and impossible to ignore. Featured on the 1987 album “The Joshua Tree“.
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10 . Queen – One Vision“One Vision” by Queen radiates the energy of a band refreshed, emerging from the high of their Live Aid triumph in 1985 with a song that leans into hope and cohesion. Crafted collectively by Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Roger Taylor, and John Deacon, it’s one of the rare tracks where everyone played a direct role in shaping its direction. The lyrics aim for universal togetherness, even if the song’s playful quirks—like the notorious “fried chicken” outro—give it an irreverent twist. Musically, the track balances sharp guitar licks, Mercury’s commanding vocals, and a dynamic rhythm section, underscored by synthesized effects that add a touch of futuristic flair. Initially imagined as a serious anthem, some believe it drew inspiration from Martin Luther King Jr., yet it morphed into something far more eclectic by the time recording wrapped. Its cultural presence has extended beyond music charts—appearing in the film *Iron Eagle* and becoming a staple of Queen’s mid-’80s setlists, including the legendary “Live at Wembley ’86.” The track’s production reveals a band experimenting with sound while capturing their camaraderie, as seen in the music video’s behind-the-scenes footage of studio sessions. While undeniably grand in ambition, its playful detours and experimental touches speak to a group unafraid to upend expectations, blending gravity with mischief. The result? A song as much about resilience and optimism as it is about finding levity amidst lofty ideals. Featured on the 1985 album “A Kind of Magic“.
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11 . Gary Numan – ComplexGary Numan’s “Complex,” released in 1979 as a follow-up to his synth-pop hit “Cars,” stands out as an introspective piece from *The Pleasure Principle*, an album that eschewed guitars in favor of pure electronic experimentation. The song leans heavily on Numan’s signature minimalism, weaving together layers of cold, detached synthesizers with an unexpected warmth brought by violas played by Chris Payne, a member of Ultravox. What makes “Complex” compelling is its fragile tension between human vulnerability and the robotic precision of its electronic framework, perfectly encapsulating feelings of alienation and misunderstanding that permeated Numan’s early work. It’s a track steeped in melancholy, reflecting the artist’s challenges in navigating personal connections—an unease only later understood as traits linked to Asperger’s Syndrome. While it never achieved chart dominance on the level of “Cars,” its eight weeks in the UK Top 40 and live performances on “Top of the Pops” solidified its place as one of his noteworthy early achievements. Interestingly, Numan’s obsession with synthesizers was almost accidental; his transition from playing guitar in punk bands to becoming a pioneer in electronic music came after a studio encounter with the instrument that completely reshaped his artistic trajectory. “Complex” might lack the instant accessibility of its predecessor, but its sparse arrangements and confessional tone offer something deeper—an unsettlingly beautiful portrait of disconnection filtered through a machine’s lens. Featured on the 1979 album “The Pleasure Principle“. |
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12 . Bruce Springsteen – War“War,” originally a blistering anti-Vietnam anthem by Edwin Starr, finds new urgency in Bruce Springsteen’s live rendition with the E Street Band, as featured on the “Live/1975–85” album. Recorded during a fiery performance on September 30, 1985, at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, the track captures Springsteen’s knack for turning a concert into a rally. The E Street Band, complete with Roy Bittan’s piano and Clarence Clemons’ piercing saxophone, injects the song with a heightened sense of defiance, electrifying the crowd with every verse. Released as a single in November 1986, the track climbed to No. 8 on the Billboard Hot 100, becoming one of Springsteen’s top-charting songs—proof of its resonance beyond the charged atmosphere of his live shows. Without a studio-produced music video, the live performance footage serves as its own declaration, the intensity translating effortlessly onto the screen. While the original is searing, Springsteen’s version brims with theatrical urgency and crowd-provoking energy, reflecting his politically infused artistry of the mid-’80s. The “Live/1975–85” album itself, topping the Billboard 200, stands as both a commercial juggernaut and a document of Springsteen’s ability to unify arenas with music, grit, and shared indignation. Featured on the 1986 album “Live/1975–85”.
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