10 terrible number-one songs of the 1980s
By Jonathan Eig
7. “MAGIC” – Olivia Newton-John (1980)
When I began jotting down notes for this ranking, I had Newton-John’s follow-up hit “Physical” in this spot. But when I listened to ONJ’s two chart-toppers from the 1980s, I had to admit that at least “Physical” has a bit of a groove. “Magic,” apart from the first line of its chorus, is barely a song. The singer sounds as if she’s struggling to identify any type of melody line in the verse and that results in a subdued performance that just sort of lies there waiting for the one decent line to show up.
And to think – this song was written by John Farrar who had penned “You’re the One That I Want” and “Hopelessly Devoted to You,” perfect pop songs for the movie Grease. Then again, Grease was about a thousand times better than Xanudu, the ONJ movie for which this song was written, so perhaps Farrar was merely tailoring his composition for its film. A confused piece of music for a confused movie.
6. “DO THAT TO ME ONE MORE TIME” – Captain & Tennille (1980)
Maybe it was the “Muskrat Love” thing. I mean, Toni Tennille had written and sung the reasonably adult “The Way That I Want to Touch You.” I don’t love that song by any means, but I don’t really dislike it either. Then she sang “Muskrat Love.” After that, how could anyone listen to the bedroom voice of “Do That to Me One More Time” and not think about Muskrat Susie and Muskrat Sam?
OK, it goes a little farther than that. “Do That to Me One More Time” has a cheesy opening before Tennille begins her vocals which sound as if she might possibly have been drugged by her paramour. I know she’s supposed to be worn out from what has already happened, but I’m not convinced the woman singing this song is ready for anything to happen one more time.
In “The Way That I Want to Touch You,” there was an energy to the vocals that helped sell the song. Here, it’s just kind of sleepy.
Then at the midpoint, we get the Lyricon. The instrument, which had only been around for five years by this point, was a hot new toy. Suddenly, instead of playing a pan flute, you could play an elaborate electronic instrument that sounded like – well – a pan flute. Or maybe like a really, really good whistler. The point is, no matter how talented a player Tom Scott (of Blues Brothers fame) might have been, hearing his solo on the Lyricon did nothing to wake the song up.