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    Beyond the Blockbusters, 7 Key Songs From 1984

    The Pointer Sisters, Minutemen and more sounds from a landmark year in pop music.The Pointer SistersAaron Rapoport/Corbis, via Getty ImagesDear listeners,If you’re halfway decent at math, you know that it is currently the 40-year anniversary of 1984 — which is not only the name of a George Orwell novel and a Van Halen album, but a particularly pivotal moment in popular music. This week, we’re running a few articles that look back at the music of 1984, beginning with a sharp, well-reported piece by Ben Sisario about the way a number of ’70s rockers (ZZ Top, Don Henley and Yes among them) rebooted their sounds and images for the brave new world of the 1980s.Most retrospectives of the year focus on the big names and the blockbuster albums: Prince’s “Purple Rain,” Madonna’s “Like a Virgin,” and Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.,” to name a few. For today’s playlist, though, I wanted to spotlight some more under-the-radar releases from that year. It was also a watershed time in underground rock, moody new wave and synth-heavy dance music, and accordingly this collection features tracks from the Replacements, Echo & the Bunnymen and the Pointer Sisters, among others. While the A-listers are the shorthand for the year’s familiar sound and aesthetic, let this playlist remind you that 1984 was also a year with many different soundtracks. Here’s one of many.I don’t wanna tame your animal style,LindsayListen along while you read.1. The Replacements: “Favorite Thing”Let’s kick things off with a propulsive track from one of my favorite 1984 releases, the Replacements’ “Let It Be.” While it’s difficult to pick just one song from such a great album, the raucous “Favorite Thing” contains what I consider one of its best moments: that bridge where the guitars drop out and the bassist Tommy Stinson briefly gets the spotlight — at least before Paul Westerberg ratchets the noise back up with a blisteringly howled, “Bar nothing!”▶ Listen on Spotify, Apple Music or YouTube2. Minutemen: “The Glory of Man”Another of my favorite 1984 albums (and another from which it is very difficult to pick just one track, given that there are 45 of them on the original LP) is the San Pedro, Calif. punk band Minutemen’s sprawling double album “Double Nickels on the Dime.” I’ll go with this jaunty rocker — driven by the interplay between Mike Watt’s squiggly bass line and D. Boon’s blurts of guitar — because it contains one of my favorite Minutemen lyrics, “I live sweat, but I dream light-years.” Words to live by.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘You Can Never Look Back’: How ’70s Rockers Rebooted for the ’80s

    The year 1984 was a watershed in pop music. The stars who’d made it big the previous decade had to embrace new instruments and MTV or risk being left behind.Don Henley was stuck.It was the fall of 1983, and the former Eagles star was cruising down the 405 freeway in Los Angeles, listening to a working tape of a tune for his second solo album. While struggling for words to one section, he glanced to the left lane and saw a gold Cadillac Seville with a curious decoration: a Grateful Dead decal.That image went right into the song, “The Boys of Summer,” a synthesizer-bathed memoir of lost love that Henley delivered with the kind of cutting, resonant zinger that was the signature of all his best Eagles lyrics:Out on the road todayI saw a Deadhead sticker on a CadillacA little voice inside my head said“Don’t look back, you can never look back”“It was an odd juxtaposition, to see a Deadhead sticker on a car that is associated with conservatism,” Henley recalled in a recent interview. “To me, it was a symbol of changing times.”The music had changed too. Henley was far from alone as an A-list 1970s rocker who had arrived in the ’80s to find a music scene transformed in sound and vision, now driven by pop singles and buzzing with electronics. The hallmarks of mainstream ’70s rock — long guitar solos, bushy sideburns — were out. Synthesizers, drum machines and stylized, eye-popping music videos were in.In most tellings of pop music history, the 1980s were primarily the springboard for a fresh crop of stars like Madonna, Prince and Duran Duran, who embraced and defined the flashy artifice of the MTV age. But the new era also had a powerful impact on the generation that preceded it. For rock’s older guard, even those like Henley, who had scaled the heights of fame, the emergence of a new order in pop was a kind of evolutionary event, and its implicit challenge was clear: Adapt or be left behind.“The ’80s ushered in a whole new paradigm,” Henley said. “We all sort of had to get with the program. Some people got with the program, and some didn’t.”Don Henley came up in Eagles, but realized he had to shift his sound for his second solo album.Richard E. Aaron/Redferns, via Getty Images More

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    Andy Paley, Whose Imprint Was All Over Pop Music, Dies at 73

    Musician, singer, songwriter, producer and more, he collaborated with Madonna and a raft of other artists and helped resuscitate the career of the Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson.Andy Paley, a music producer, composer and rock ’n’ roll chameleon who worked with artists as varied as Madonna, Jerry Lee Lewis and Jonathan Richman, and who helped resuscitate the career of the Beach Boys mastermind Brian Wilson after his much-chronicled emotional flameout, died on Nov. 20 in Colchester, Vt. He was 73.The death, at a hospice facility, was caused by cancer, his wife, Heather Crist Paley, said.A curator of the spirit of classic 1960s pop, Mr. Paley played many roles over an ever-evolving career. He got his start in the late 1960s as the frontman for a Boston-area power pop outfit called the Sidewinders, which briefly included the future FM radio staple Billy Squier on guitar and opened for groups like Aerosmith.Later that decade, he banded with his younger brother, Jonathan, to form a highly regarded, if short-lived, pop duo, the Paley Brothers. With their winsome looks and mops of blond hair, they appeared in the pages of teen bibles like 16 Magazine and Tiger Beat and toured with the pop confection Shaun Cassidy.A skilled multi-instrumentalist, Mr. Paley often went on the road with his close friend Mr. Richman and filled in on keyboards on Patti Smith’s 1976 tour of Europe.During the 1980s, he began to produce for Seymour Stein, the visionary label chief of Sire Records. Influenced by studio wizards like Phil Spector, Mr. Paley produced songs for numerous performers, including Debbie Harry, K.D. Lang, NRBQ, Little Richard and Brenda Lee.From left, Darlene Love, Phil Spector, Joey Ramone, Mr. Paley and Jonathan Paley in 1978. Even as an intimate of musical luminaries, Mr. Paley maintained the wide-eyed wonder of a fan throughout his career.Bob MerlisWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    How Quincy Jones Brought Pop’s Greats to the Studio: Eddie Van Halen, Bob Dylan and More

    For decades, he had many of the pop world’s best players on call — and knew how to coax out their sharpest performances.“Quincy called me.”That is the opening line of the best stories told by some of the best musicians in the world over the last half-century or so, as they recount being recruited for recording sessions by Quincy Jones, the super-producer whose work was often as much a matter of casting as of capturing sounds on tape.Eddie Van Halen got the call one day in 1982, to add a pyrotechnic guitar solo to Michael Jackson’s “Beat It.” He declined credit for it, but after Jackson’s death in 2009, Van Halen said that session was one of the “fondest memories in my career.”Greg Phillinganes, the synthesizer virtuoso who began his career with Stevie Wonder, got many such calls as an in-demand session player, working on Jones-helmed albums by Jackson, Donna Summer and James Ingram, among others.“By virtue of getting a call,” Phillinganes recalled this week, “that was the endorsement that you were worthy of being there” — an induction into an elite circle that included both big stars and supremely skilled but lesser-known musicians, each chosen with intention by Jones for what they could bring to a project.Jones, who died on Sunday at 91, was the master of a nearly vanished mode of record-making that relied on groups of talented musicians working under the finely attuned ear of a producer. For decades, he had many of the pop world’s best players on call, and — in what could be a career-making enlistment or just the umpteenth studio gig — would hire them to spice up a track with a guitar lick, or smooth its contours with a synthesizer part, or ground it with just the right beat.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Why ‘Perfect Strangers’ Keeps Coming Back

    From “The Leftovers” to “Only Murders in the Building,” “Perfect Strangers,” the wacky 1980s sitcom with a bombastic theme song, is enjoying a strange afterlife.In the latest season of “Only Murders in the Building,” the show’s trio of amateur detectives are investigating yet another murder and discover a theme — and a song — from an unlikely source: another TV show.The show is “Perfect Strangers,” the wacky 1980s sitcom that paired two cousins who — like the stars of “Only Murders” and its new cast of characters this season — couldn’t have been more different. The uplifting, bombastic “Perfect Strangers” theme song appears in the “Only Murders” fourth season, which concludes Tuesday.“We needed something that landed as a clue, something that opened up something curious for our trio to discover, something that kept hitting over and over again,” John Hoffman, the “Only Murders” showrunner, said.And so the “Perfect Strangers” theme song appears as a call sign over the ham radios of misfit residents introduced in this season of “Only Murders” and referred to as “the Westies.” Those are the tenants who live in the West tower of the Arconia, across from where Mabel Mora (Selena Gomez), Oliver Putnam (Martin Short) and Charles-Haden Savage (Steve Martin) live and where much of the investigation focuses.In one scene, in an apartment in the West tower of the Arconia, the New York City residential building at the center of the show, Mabel softly begins singing.“No matter what the odds are this time / nothing’s gonna stand in my way,” she chimes.Oliver mumbles along: “This flame in my heart / long-lost friend / Gives every dark street / a light at the end.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘Hysteria!,’ ‘Stranger Things’ and the Satanic Panic That Never Goes Away

    Five years ago, the television writer Matthew Scott Kane sold “Hysteria!,” a scripted drama that takes place in the late 1980s. The series was inspired in part by the tumult of misinformation he found online and in the media of the late 2010s. Shows like these take time to make, and Kane worried the idea would pass its best-by date.“I kept thinking, man, I don’t know if this is going to feel relevant,” he said in a recent interview.“Hysteria!” which premiered on Peacock on Oct. 18, is set in a small Michigan town in the grip of the so-called satanic panic of the 1980s and early 1990s, an episode of mass hysteria which imagined that a cross-country network of satanic cults was engaged in ritual abuse, animal sacrifice and infanticide. In the pilot, a high school football star is discovered dead. Suspicion turns to several of his classmates, members of a heavy metal band that exploits satanic imagery.The aesthetics of “Hysteria!” — the wallpaper, the jeans, the popular music — are distinctly ’80s. But the impulse to displace social anxieties onto perceived groups of outsiders is as American as apple pie. (Are those apples poisoned? Do they have razor blades inside?) And in a culture of heightened political rhetoric and pervasive misinformation, as apparent now as it was five years ago, the distance between the satanic panic and current conspiracy theories — QAnon, say, or the supposed grooming of children by queer people — is a short one, barely the length of a suburban lawn.Recent works of fiction — “Hysteria!”; the novel “Rainbow Black”; the fourth season of “Stranger Things”; the film “Late Night With the Devil” — all treat the satanic panic as a discrete historical event. But they also suggest how the panic’s concerns resonate in the present. As it turns out, Americans are still panicking. We may always be panicking.“Hysteria!,” a new Peacock show set during the satanic panic, features an attempted exorcism. Mark Hill/PeacockWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Eddie Van Halen Changed Rock History. Now His Brother Is Telling Their Story.

    On Oct. 4, 2015, Van Halen performed at the Hollywood Bowl in what proved to be its last show, capping a decades-long run as one of rock’s most successful and influential acts. The amphitheater is about 30 minutes from the 800-square-foot house in Pasadena, Calif., where the Van Halen brothers — the drummer Alex and the guitarist Eddie — grew up. But the journey between those spots took the group all over the world, through the highest highs and lowest lows of rock ’n’ roll glory, excess and tragedy.Alex, 71, has learned to be grateful for every moment of it. During a video call one morning in September from his home in the Los Angeles area, he cited an old saying: “‘In the effort lies the reward.’” He was dressed casually in a blue button-down check shirt underneath a leather jacket, sunglasses on and dark hair brushed back. On an otherwise bare wall behind him hung a gold record for Van Halen’s 1978 self-titled debut album.“That’s exactly how Ed and I felt,” he said. “The ride was the reward. And it’s been a hell of a ride.”That trek — the first 30 or so years of it, at least — is chronicled in “Brothers,” a book that will be published on Oct. 22, which Alex was moved to write after losing Eddie, his younger sibling by roughly 20 months, to cancer in October 2020. He characterized the project, told with the New Yorker writer Ariel Levy, as “a painful experience.” But, he said, “you’ve got to go through the pain to get to the other part.”Alex and his brother were extremely close. “Every day, the first thing I’d do is call him,” he said. “We would talk, we would yell and scream at each other. But we were always supportive.”Magdalena Wosinska for The New York TimesAlex was a commanding presence onstage, especially in Van Halen’s early years (recall him bare chested, furiously bashing away behind a massive drum kit in the 1981 video for “Unchained”), but he was always more reserved with the press. He ceded the role of mouthpiece to the band’s exhibitionist singer, David Lee Roth, and his brother, who was routinely hailed as one of the greatest guitarists of his generation.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    LL Cool J Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop. (And Why Would He?)

    At a dusty studio space in an industrial corner of Los Angeles, LL Cool J bounced and vibed in black satin and bulging, size 13 Balenciaga boots.The actor and rap luminary was filming a video for a sexy track, “Proclivities,” from his new album — but he wasn’t in front of the cameras, or rehearsing. He was just cheerfully shooting the you-know-what, with a late night of production ahead of him. Background players in feathered dresses floated by; his security circled. He did a little dance, demonstrating the inspiration for another song. He walks with a swagger and stands with a spring, too much rhythm in his 6-foot-3 frame to keep still. “Making fantasies happen,” he said, grinning, taking all of it in.LL Cool J is 56, and has been a hip-hop eminence for 40 years: His whole life is a stretch into realizing the improbable, including a sneakily successful pivot into network television. Even before adulthood, he strode with a preternatural confidence in his abilities, and a willingness to dig into the work. His rap career is not now — and, to hear him tell it, has never been — about the money, the trappings of celebrity or the cultural prestige.“I do it because I love it,” he said. “I love a fresh beat. A new lyric, a chord, the feeling — and then sharing that. Putting that on the easel of life, so to speak, for people to walk through the sonic gallery and listen to this, these vibes. I love that. I wanted my voice to be heard, and I wanted to share.”Because he started so young, the first to sign to the then-fledgling label Def Jam, when he was just 16 — and when hip-hop itself was only a decade old — he influenced an entire pantheon of artists who followed, including contemporaries his same age. Hits like the bruising, Grammy-winning “Mama Said Knock You Out,” from 1990, and plaintive grooves from his lovelorn Lothario persona (“I Need Love”; “Around the Way Girl”), cemented his legacy as a crossover pop superstar.LL Cool J outside a concert in the late 1980s. He was the label Def Jam’s first signing, when he was just 16 years old.Michael Ochs Archives/Getty ImagesWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More