The End of the Eighties, Track 03

“Saudade”
Love and Rockets
Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven
1985
In the wake of Bauhaus’ dissolution in the early ’80s, band members went their separate ways with various solo and one-off projects. As the story goes, in 1985 when Peter Murphy failed to show up for a proposed Bauhaus reunion rehearsal, three-fourths of the band decided to jam anyway and Love and Rockets was born.

Amid the psychedelia-glam mash-up of Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven, the debut closes out with a gorgeous 13-minute pairing of “Haunted When the Minutes Drag” and “Saudade”. The former is somewhat well-known for being featured in John Hughes’ She’s Having a Baby (an edited version of the song appears on the soundtrack). The latter is a five-minute instrumental I have always associated with my college roommate John.

For the last 20 years, I have operated under the assumption that “Saudade” is John’s favorite Love and Rockets tune. And knowing John, and how thoughtfully he walks through this life, there couldn’t be a more fitting choice because “saudade” is a Portuguese word analogous to nostalgia. Regardless, “Saudade” is one of my favorite Love and Rockets tunes and reason enough for inclusion on the playlist.

The synthesizer-guitar mix winds and flows around and between all the little reflective places in my head, easily conjuring memories of friends and girlfriends. It encapsulates those quieter moments I remember from Bowling Green… furiously trying to capture the thoughts in my head as my Sharpie (my writing utensil of choice at the time) flew across a page, watching Wonder Years in our dorm, hanging out with Kari (my girlfriend early that Fall semester).

Avoiding the Goth prototype they pioneered, Daniel Ash, David J, and Kevin Haskins explored psychedelia and glam (Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven and Express), psychedelia and folk (Earth * Sun * Moon), and alternative rock and glam (Love and Rockets), before finally devolving into techno and house (everything after until I stopped following them altogether). But those first four albums contain some of my favorite songs of the era.

And given the backward-looking nature of this playlist, I can’t think of a more appropriate song selection than “Saudade”.

Related, irreconcilable memory: Not sure why it’s lodged in my head or if it’s even accurate, but I’m pretty sure Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven was the first compact disc I ever bought. What I do know for sure is that I started buying CDs before I ever had a player.

The End of the Eighties, Track 01

“Bela Lugosi’s Dead”
Bauhaus
Press the Eject and Give Me the Tape
1982

“Bela Lugosi’s Dead” is the granddaddy of ’em all. Clichéd, bloated, completely lacking a sense of humor, and perfect in every way, this is where Goth begins and ends. It’s also the only logical jumping off point for The End of the Eighties playlist.

Originally holding the track one, disc one slot on the BGSU / Fall 1989-Spring 1990 mix, this is the first song I associate with Bowling Green State University.

Shortly after John and I got settled into our BGSU dorm room, we became close friends with Jen and Erin. As I recall, I met Erin during a campus visit sometime between early July and late August before classes started. I know this because I remember the first time I saw her she had on a black and white PiL concert t-shirt and these bright aqua blue shorts. I went up to her and asked her if she attended the show at Blossom (she had) and our friendship took off from there.

I seem to think I met Jen at a freshman orientation mixer kind of thing out on the lawn. I don’t think John and I introduced Jen and Erin to each other, though we might have. I do know that the first time Jen and Erin came back to our dorm room, we all hung out and listened to music, and I played Bauhaus’ Press the Eject and Give Me the Tape live album with “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” on it.

I had picked up the disc while I worked at Digital Daze (now long gone) in Akron. I actually had all of Beggars Banquet’s Bauhaus reissues with the extra tracks and similar packaging. Those imports were crazy-expensive, but I loved them, often going weeks without seeing an actual paycheck because I poured my money right back into the store.

By the time John, Jen, Erin, and I were listening to it on that hot August afternoon, the song itself was already ten years old and considered the first Goth song released (as a single on the Small Wonder label in August ’79). For only having 15 or so lines of lyrics, “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” is a sprawling blueprint for Goth. Clocking in at nine-and-a-half minutes, the song fills the space between with heavy bass, a metronome drum beat, and winding dub guitar work. An “alternative night” staple in clubs, the song doesn’t unfold so much as it broods its way across the musical landscape. Atmosphere is everything here.

Back in the day, we would watch beat up second- and third-hand videocassette copies of Shadow of Light and Tony Scott’s The Hunger to see “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” in its glory. (And how delicious the irony of Peter Murphy, who has unabashedly worshiped at the altar of Bowie, on screen with his idol in those opening moments of the film?) And I guess that’s as close to seeing the song live as I’m gonna get, because I've only seen them live once and they didn’t play it.

There are Bauhaus songs I like better than “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” (and four more Bauhaus songs will show up on this playlist before I’m finished), but this one is where friendships began and the ’80s end for me.