Authors: Jian Ghomeshi
1982
VIKING
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First published 2012
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Copyright © Jian Ghomeshi, 2012
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Ghomeshi, Jian
1982 / Jian Ghomeshi.
ISBN 978-0-670-06648-3
1. Ghomeshi, Jian. 2. Iranian Canadians—Biography. 3. Popular music fans—Canada— Biography. 4. Popular music—Canada—1981–1990. 5. Music, Influence of. 6. Nineteen eighty-two, A.D. I. Title. II. Title: Nineteen eighty-two.
ML3534.6.C2G56 2012 780.92 C2012-905011-3
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FOR MOM AND DAD
CONTENTS
2 “ARABIAN KNIGHTS” – SIOUXSIE AND THE BANSHEES
3 “I LOVE ROCK ’N ROLL” – JOAN JETT AND THE BLACKHEARTS
4 “UNDER PRESSURE” – QUEEN AND DAVID BOWIE
5 “STRAIGHT TO HELL” – THE CLASH
6 “DIRTY DEEDS DONE DIRT CHEAP” – AC/DC
8 “ONCE IN A LIFETIME” – TALKING HEADS
9 “DO YOU REALLY WANT TO HURT ME” – CULTURE CLUB
10 “EBONY AND IVORY” – PAUL McCARTNEY AND STEVIE WONDER
11 “THE THINGS THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF” – THE HUMAN LEAGUE
12 “LET’S DANCE” – DAVID BOWIE
PROLOGUE
“Let’s emphasize all the mistakes.”
—DAVID BOWIE, ON SWEDISH RADIO, 1982
Nineteen eighty-two was a big year. Really big.
You might not think so. And you might wonder about my qualifications for making such a declaration. You might not think any single year is deserving of too much attention.
Then again, if you do want to champion one twelve-month period, you might contend that it should be some other year. I’m anticipating this. For instance, you might be all “Team 1991!” That’s the year Nirvana released
Nevermind
and ushered grunge music into the mainstream and started a new generation of non-Canadians wearing plaid shirts (in Canada we already had the outfit). That was a big year. Or you might lobby for 1945, because that was the year of the final battles of the European theatre of World War II, as well as the German surrender to the Western Allies and the Soviet Union. Indeed,
1945 was also a big year. Mind you, I’ve never been so sure of that term, “theatre of war.” Doesn’t the word “theatre” connote artifice or entertainment? As a way to refer to scores of actual young dudes far from home, trudging around in shit and killing each other, it’s a bit optimistic, isn’t it? But the term sounds impressive. And it sounds smart to pick a year like 1945. It’s got gravitas and the end of a war. Nineteen forty-five is definitely in the up-market aisle when shopping for a year.
So then you wonder, why 1982? There was no armistice or Nirvana. And you might chuckle at the idea that 1982 merits a book unto itself. The 1980s are still considered a bit of a joke dressed up in oversized shoulder pads. Even one of the most populist spokespeople of the era, the Bangles’ Susanna Hoffs—is there a more sage authority?—has said, “The fact that the ’80s are now a beloved era is shocking.”
And you might think all of this 1982 business is an attempt at irony. You might be tempted to roll your eyes at the thought. But in case you think I’m kidding about 1982, I’m not. And actually, there’s intra-’80s competition about this stuff, too. As time passes, self-satisfied observers of late-twentieth-century history continue to focus on another year: 1984. Well, damn that 1984. It’s been fawned over for decades. There’s no denying 1984 was huge. It had important Orwellian overtones and was the year Prince released
Purple Rain
. That was big. But 1982 came before 1984. And sometimes the opening act doesn’t get as much credit as it deserves for warming up the crowd. Who will speak for 1982? I will.
The thing is, 1982 was a lot more than just the debut season of
Remington Steele
—although I know that impresses some of you enough for me to stop right there. In 1982, the
Commodore 64 computer was introduced, Ronald Reagan had survived being shot, poisoned Tylenol capsules killed seven people, the Falklands War started and ended, Michael Jackson released
Thriller
, Canada repatriated its Constitution, and the first compact disc was sold in Germany.
And that’s not all. Over the course of 1982, I blossomed from a naïve fourteen-year-old trying to fit in with the cool kids to something much more: a naïve, eyeliner-wearing fifteenyear-old trying to fit in with the cool kids.
To be quite honest, this pivotal period of my teens doesn’t seem so far away. I can still channel the angst over wanting a Clash T-shirt to help me fit in. Not that I haven’t grown past that feeling. I have. I think. Okay, so maybe I feel the need to be wearing my old Clash T-shirt right now. It makes me almost cool. Stop staring. And in the immortal words of the unevenly talented ’80s duo Tears for Fears (Roland was the talented one and Curt was just cute), the scars linger.
But I’m no longer a teen. And I’m beginning to learn that 1982 was a long time ago. It’s sinking in every time some freshfaced hipster asks me if I’ve ever heard of Kate Bush. These kids now don’t get it. They either don’t know the references or they think of them as vintage. There’s even a whole world of young adults running around thinking of the 1980s the way we used to think of the ’60s. Old. Well, actually, old but also fascinating, and a bit zany. It’s just like the feeling you always get watching those black-and-white sex films from the 1920s. I mean, if those films exist. Like, in theory.
The ’80s are now so long ago that those of us who were alive back then risk getting that glazed-over look of nostalgia in our eyes when we think about it. You know, the way older people get.
The way some very nice but earnest Boomers like to remember seeing the Beatles for the first time. These Boomers will familiarly reminisce about seeing the Beatles or Stones whether they actually saw them or not. And they probably didn’t. But they will say things to each other in public as if they did.
“Oh, honey, remember the second time we saw the Stones and you got really stupid high with Julie?”
You see, Boomers will say these things because they know no one will ever check. And if you try to verify dates or details, they will tell you they can’t remember, because they were stoned, or drunk, or too excited, or it was too long ago. And the point is just that. It’s far off enough in history that no one cares if they were actually there to see “Ruby Tuesday” performed live. And then—and this is the important part— the Boomers will get a wistful look about them and mutter something about 1967. They might use the word “innocent.” Boomers talk about the past and get nostalgic for a less confused time—an innocent time.
But the Boomers are just copying their parents and the generations who came before them. It must be that as humans get older, we believe that the previous era we lived through was more virtuous. It’s like an aging disease and a survival mechanism rolled into one. So now those of us who were teens in the 1980s are starting our turn. But we’re not there yet. The early ’80s still don’t really seem “innocent.” Not quite. Not in the way that kind of language is applied to the ’50s to remind us that everyone was happy then, and white, and there was no poverty, and women wore pearls and heels in the kitchen. Those 1950s. Only good times with rich people wearing hats.
I still remember the ’80s too well. They certainly didn’t seem very innocent when we were living them. In the early ’80s, John Lennon was killed, the pope was shot, Iran had been taken over by the Ayatollah Khomeini, and Madonna was wriggling into her garter belt for her pop-culture debut. We had learned that racism was bad, porn had become mainstream, big hair was all the rage, and punk rock had emerged around the world. Not so innocent. But just because those of us who were alive in the ’80s don’t particularly think of ourselves as seniors doesn’t mean things haven’t changed. The world has evolved so dramatically in the past three decades that the generation gap might as well be a century wide. So much of what was hot in the 1980s has been updated and reformulated and upgraded. There are also essential international institutions today that weren’t even invented in the ’80s. There are crucial daily staples of our lives today with names we wouldn’t even have begun to understand or recognize. Here is a list of words that did not exist in 1982:
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