40 sensational songs from the 1980s

Punk

Protopunk showed up in the ‘60s, coming from the same suburbs that spawned garage rock. It blossomed into its first real wave in the ‘70s with Ramones and Sex Pistols staking out the basic neighborhood. By the ‘80s, punk was morphing. It was spreading out in all directions, from hardcore to melodic. The DIY attitude remained the same.

The essential desire was still to use speed and volume to entertain a restless fanbase with little regard for commercial appeal and smoothing out the rough edges. Punk artists had a wider playing field to explore, and the best of them did it brilliantly. Punk may have offered more inspired, groundbreaking music in the 1980s than any other genre. Here are five of the very best.

“Holiday in Cambodia” by Dead Kennedys (1980)

It begins with Klaus Flouride’s ominous bass riff, soon joined by East Bay Ray’s guitar stabs that sound like anti-aircraft blasts at some unseen enemy in the sky. By the time Ted’s drums come rolling in, we are aware we may be in hell. We are twenty seconds into the most in-your-face track from the Dead Kennedy’s highly confrontational debut album.

When frontman Jello Biafra’s lyrics show up, essentially calling out the privileged youth of the USA, we realize he is essentially covering similar ground to that of Bob Dylan in a song like “Mozambique,” but with the righteous anger of the fire-and-brimstoniest preacher imaginable.

“That’s When I Reach for My Revolver” by Mission to Burma (1981)

The first track from the Boston trio/quartet (depending on whether you want to count engineer Martin Swope, who was often integral to the sound.) It begins moody just like “Holiday in Cambodia,” but the anger and frustration that follow are far more subdued. In a sense, that makes it scarier. It is a song of loss, of broken promises, and a song that hints at the particular brand of violence the USA seems to turn to when confronted with this reality. Its foreboding has proven horrifically accurate in the forty-plus years since it first came out.

“Straight to Hell” by the Clash (1982)

Unlike the two previous bands, this wasn’t an early song from the Clash. This was essentially their swan song, from Combat Rock, the final album to feature the original quartet. It is far gentler than the first two songs, relying on the soft ska-based groove that the Clash had perfected. But as the title suggests, there is no less anger contained in its singsong vibe. As Joe Strummer sings at the end – “There ain’t no asylum here – King Solomon, he never lived ‘round here – Straight to hell, boy – Go straight to hell, by.” M.I.A. would sample “Straight to Hell” on her biggest hit, “Paper Planes.”

“Makes No Sense At All” by Husker Du (1985)

Of all the hardcore bands that emerged in the ‘80s, Minnesota’s Husker Du seemed to have the best chance for mainstream crossover. In Bob Mould, they had an expansive songwriter, and in Grant Hart and Greg Norton, they had a dynamite rock & roll rhythm section. Drummer Hart was a first-rate songwriter as well. They came closest on “Makes No Sense At All,” from their fourth album Flip Your Wig.

They were consciously moving from their hardcore roots to a more melodic brand of punk with a catchy tune that could find a home on the radio, while still having an edge. Husker Du was helping invent pop-punk a decade before it had a name. On the verge of success, Mould and Hart found they could no longer work together and the band split up. There’s a lot more to that story, but we’ll leave it for another time.

“Bastards of Young” by the Replacements (1985)

It was the first song they played on their notorious SNL gig in January 1986. But it wasn’t the song that got them banned. They may well have been fairly inebriated during “Bastards of Young,” – which was nothing new for the Replacements – but it was when they returned to stumble through “Kiss Me On the Bus” that Lorne Michaels made his decision. “Bastards of Young” is glorious – Paul Westerberg at his best, growling out his yearning lyrics while Bob Stinson stalks both the stage and the song with a guitar that is bright and heavy and always loud.

Billie Joe Armstrong was just 13 years old at the time, but he was listening. This is the sound that Green Day would take to the pinnacle in the ensuing decades.

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