There were groups with names like, Flock of Seagulls~ I under my mind's breath called them a flock of hairdos.
When video killed the radio star.
I watched waiting for people to come to their senses ~ Went to a few clubs where coked up frenzied fashionistas, who yelled things at one another to be heard above the noise, shouted things at me. Till out of exasperation, I would pretend to get it and laugh or say: ‘oh yeah’.
Yoko Ono had a party at club ‘Area’ and gave me an acorn (the secret pass key) to get in.
Entrance into clubs became an elitist ambition reminiscent of a barbaric time.
People would queue up outside and the door person/security guy ever so pompously eye the crowd, a hush descending, and with great deliberation pick and choose the ones who would get in the ones who had the look. Cool hair played a big part in deciding who would live and who would die, I mean who would get in, the others were relegated to coach because first class was full.
I didn't spend much time out and about~ Sang my way through most of the 80s~ Singing anthems of "antiquity".
I’d grab at 80s fun things, like blue and purple hair, I took that with me, from the 80s into the new millennium~ As well as the robes and embroidered fabrics from the 60s. I might put a bustiers overtop~ Like a Christmas snow angel, with a Jack-o'-lantern head. I laughed out loud at dance moves at the movies, as what was wrong became right and the world flipped.
Beau Jarred was born an 80s baby.
In 1984 he was four years old.
I was creating, watching, not quite believing~ The drug of 1984, wasn't a musical one,
I lived in the music. Be there in 1984.I wasn't entirely there then, neither were you~ And after my shows, earnest, lost refugees might ask, Melanie what happened?
And I answered with the song