The Summer of '95: My awkward eighties phase begins

What I jokingly call “my awkward eighties phase” began on the evening of June 18, 1995, when I started recording the decade of greed’s greatest hits off the radio.

Though I don’t remember all the details from that night, I recall what’s important. I was listening to my favorite radio station, Mix 96, in my room. The station was airing Backtrax USA, a syndicated two-hour block of eighties music hosted by Kid Kelly. It was likely the first time I had heard the show and, as a fan of VH1’s block of eighties music videos, The Big ‘80s, I was immediately hooked. And I did exactly what anyone else with a combination radio/cassette/CD player would do: I popped a blank tape into the cassette deck and started recording all those amazing tunes so I could listen to them later.

What started that Sunday evening became a weekly ritual and a nearly four-year obsession with all things eighties. It’s a period of my life that tends to embarrass me now. However, I think it proved to be a worthwhile and interesting experience, one that provided precocious insights and knowledge about the past and nostalgia.

Why did I become obsessed with the eighties? I don’t recall a specific reason, so it was likely a combination of things. The Big ‘80s planted the seed, allowing me to become hooked on songs I had never heard before. And, as a lover of history, I was interested in the past. The eighties were part of my history, but I knew very little about the decade and don’t remember much of it, so I was naturally inclined to want to know more about it, become acquainted with what happened during my birth decade.

And I did ... and then some.

I recorded everything that first Sunday night, filling both sides with songs, station IDs, and commercials (which are fun to listen to 25 years later). (How do I remember the exact date? I remember my third Sunday recording was July 2. Two weeks before that was June 18.) I became much more selective starting the next week, picking and choosing which songs I wanted. I soon mastered the art of timing, keeping my finger poised over the record button as each song or commercial break ended. One never knew what was coming next, so it paid to be prepared. If I didn’t like a song or had already recorded it, I stopped recording and rewound the tape in preparation for the next.

There were two songs I wanted more than any other: “Pop Muzik” by M (which was released in 1979) and “Two of Hearts” by Stacey Q. I was familiar with both from The Big ‘80s and really dug them. I’m unsure why they tickled me in the right way, but it became my mission to capture them on tape. If I missed a Sunday session for whatever reason, I fretted over the prospect of having missed them. (I think they were the reason I started recording Backtrax USA that first night.) It happened eventually, though I think it took two years before I got “Two of Hearts.”

My interest in the decade’s music led to a greater fascination with all things eighties. Movies, TV shows, politics, fashion, notable events—I was all over it, and Kid Kelly was a good guide, always mentioning what was happening around the time certain songs were released. I wore vintage eighties shirts when I was in high school (which was actually pretty popular at the time). I watched reruns of eighties TV shows, most notably CHiPs (which spanned the late seventies and early eighties, eras I became particularly interested in). I watched as many eighties movies as I could, even renting The Day After at one point. I bought albums from the eighties when I had the money, including Dead Or Alive’s Youthquake ... on cassette. (It’s not the best album, but it includes “You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)”—whose music video is entrancing and peak 1985.) I think the apex of my eighties phase came when I bought the Valley Girl soundtrack at the Mall of America in the summer of 1998.

Keep in mind that this was way before the eighties became popular, way before other millennials became nostalgic for their birth decade via VH1’s I Love the ‘80s series. I was pretty weird; my interest in the eighties was not normal. The eighties were cheesy and old, a weird time with tons of hairspray, bad music videos, and a former actor as president. Most mocked and ridiculed the decade. Some of my friends understood (or humored) me, and a few shared my taste in music. But they were nowhere near as hardcore as I was. I didn’t flaunt my obsession, though—or so I hope now.

My awkward eighties phase wound down slowly during my sophomore year of high school. Though I started recording songs from an eighties show on KRUI every Friday after school (it was called The Reflex, and I think the hosts came to City High for an eighties-themed dance at some point), I listened to BackTrax USA less and less. The songs became repetitive and unbearable, and my musical interests broadened and shifted. I recorded songs from the seventies and nineties from other local stations—including on a tape I used to record eighties tracks (blasphemy!). Sometime in 1999, I stopped recording songs from the radio altogether. I wasn’t interested anymore. And so ended my awkward eighties phase.

At the peak of my obsession, I could probably sing/lip-sync any eighties song you threw my way (at least the mainstream ones, anyway). I could create an eighties mix tape that would put anyone’s to shame—probably even people who made mix tapes in the eighties. I could recite lines from eighties movies in my sleep and win any eighties pop-culture or history quiz. I could look at a picture, TV show, or movie and tell you what year it was from. But those day are long gone. I may know a lot more about the eighties than the average person, and I can probably do a good job of distinguishing every year or era (early, mid-, or late), but I’m not the treasure trove of obscure eighties knowledge and song lyrics I was.

Looking back, I think my awkward eighties phase created an interesting dichotomy in my teenage years. Living and indulging in the nineties but obsessed with the eighties, I feel like I grew up in two decades. I did grow up in the eighties, but I was experiencing its pop culture for the first time alongside everything contemporary. Alongside Youthquake and all the eighties recordings in my box of cassettes were also Paula Abdul’s Spellbound and Ace of Base’s The Sign; my Valley Girl soundtrack shared space in my CD rack with Dance Mix USA, Volume 6. I paired my vintage T-shirts with cargo pants. I watched new episodes of The Grind along with reruns of American Bandstand.

The phase also gave me advanced experience with nostalgia and how distorting/blinding it can be. It’s easy to overlook an era’s blemishes and lasting scars. It helped me realize that good movies and music do not make a decade “better,” as I was convinced the eighties were. My mom, with her seemingly infinite wisdom and insight, admonished me for thinking that way. I remember her saying that, at some point, I would think the nineties were better—and she was right. Though the eighties gave us the iconic films of John Hughes and the incomparable Wang Chung, it brought the rise of globalization and neoliberalism. The eighties are still with us today, in good ways and bad.

Though embarrassing to think about now, my eighties phase was a momentous time in my life. I learned a lot and listened to a lot of great music—some of which is still repetitive and intolerable to this day. And, I suppose, it could have been worse. I could have been a goth.

Regardless, I was into the eighties before all y’all—and it all started in the summer of 1995.