“Say You, Say Me” by Lionel Richie (1985)

One critic’s view:  “I like [the bridge].  This demented little part wakes the song up.  ‘Say You, Say Me’ is still a bad song, but it’s at least bad in some interesting ways.” – Tom Breihan @ Stereogum

The public’s view:  2.51 / 5.00, the fourth-worst #1 hit of 1985

I was not a Lionel Richie fan in the 1980s, but his songs never antagonized me in the way that “Separate Lives” did.  Richie was just an omnipresent and inevitable fact of life, extremely overplayed but completely harmless.  Based on the truckloads of trophies that he hauled home from every awards ceremony, I assumed that his music was beyond reproach and that it was my fault if I didn’t fully appreciate it.  In researching this project, however, I have learned that critics and listeners are not universally fond of his legacy.  And thus “Say You, Say Me” earns a spot in our museum of bad #1 hits.

“Say You, Say Me” is not the most poorly regarded of Richie’s #1s.  That would be “Truly”, whose Rate Your Music score is so low that it beats “Ebony and Ivory” as the worst chart-topper of 1982.  However, “Truly” is merely an ordinary, boring love ballad that is almost interchangeable with several other songs that Richie has written.  “Say You, Say Me” stands apart from the rest of his oeuvre, both lyrically and musically and in both positive and negative ways.  Its main selling point is an unusual up-tempo bridge that sounds like it was transplanted from a different song.  For a brief moment, Richie defies all of the rules of the adult contemporary genre.  Clive Davis probably called the police when he heard this on the radio the first time.

The lyrics of “Say You, Say Me” are cryptic, but Richie had already written another chart-topping single that left everyone bewildered:  “Three Times a Lady”.  What did he mean by that title, anyway?  As a kid, that song made no sense to me but I didn’t feel I could question it.  It reminded me of my religion lessons about the mysterious Holy Trinity consisting of God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Surprisingly, no one ever reworked Richie’s song into a Christian version called “Three Times a Deity”.  Amy Grant left some money on the table there.

Some fans knew that Richie had based “Three Times a Lady” on his dad’s emotional tribute to Lionel’s mom:  she was a great wife, mother, and friend.  But looking for similar meaning in “Say You, Say Me” is as futile as analyzing “I Am the Walrus”.  People have tried and have been driven mad.  The song contains a few lines about friendship and self-worth that are nice on their own, but there’s no cohesive message other than that Lionel can now buy a fourth yacht.  He had an awesome dream, indeed.

I find most of Richie’s songs to be uninspired (except for the touching origin of “Three Times a Lady”), but at least they are competently assembled.  “Say You, Say Me” is the complete opposite.  It’s as if Lionel’s head was suddenly bursting with ideas other than just telling a woman how great she is for the 17th time, and he tried to jam those unrelated thoughts into one song as quickly as he could.  It’s a blend of creativity and sloppiness from a man who isn’t usually known for either.

“Separate Lives” by Phil Collins & Marilyn Martin (1985)

One person’s view:  “‘Separate Lives’ isn’t a heartbreaking song about moving apart from one’s former lover:  it’s a song about wallowing in self-pity and martyrdom all while blaming others for one’s problems.  Awful, awful, awful, awful, awful.” – dagwood525 @ Rate Your Music

The public’s view:  2.29 / 5.00, the third-worst #1 hit of 1985

Because of all the attention devoted to “We Built This City” and “We Are the World” in the music press, most young people probably assume that those two records were always considered the worst #1 hits of the mid 1980s.  However, that’s a revisionist view that became fashionable only long after the fact.  Those of us who were alive at the time remember a far less listenable song that topped the Hot 100 in the same year as those other two.

You know how sometimes a song you dislike will start up, and you will – through either laziness or inattention – allow it to play to completion while you miss something better on a different station?  No one ever had that problem with “Separate Lives”.  The track begins with a 45-second near-spoken intro by Phil Collins before most of the instruments kick in.  This dull-as-dirt monologue serves as a powerful warning that the next few minutes are not going to be a pleasant experience.  I haven’t unearthed the data to prove this, but I am sure there was a spike in dislocated shoulders in the autumn of ‘85 from people frantically reaching toward their radio tuning dials whenever this came on.

After the dreaded intro is over, “Separate Lives” starts to have a melody for a moment before meandering off into blandness.  Its lyrics tell a gloomy tale of the animosity surrounding a bitter break-up, and Collins has a grimness in his voice that fits the material well.  Without the star power and momentum that he had in 1985, there is no way this depressing record gets anywhere near #1.

Marilyn Martin is a top-notch singer, and I like her solo hit “Night Moves”.  On “Separate Lives”, she meshes with Collins about as well as a porcupine and a waterbed.  Many of her lines consist of repeating whatever Phil just said, but with an overly dramatic warble.  Could you imagine your spouse constantly mimicking you like this?  “Honey, are we running low on toilet paper?”  “Toilet pay-ay-ay-ay-per!”  No wonder this couple split up.

Anyone who can relate to “Separate Lives” is going to be turned off by it.  I guess the song is intended for people who are in the middle of a divorce, but it isn’t the type of diversion that will brighten their moods.  It’s as if Stephen Bishop wrote it to intentionally make everyone miserable.  It even made Phil Collins feel bad.  When his second marriage was on the rocks due to his philandering, his estranged wife would sometimes stand in the aisle and glare icily at him while he performed it at his concerts.  Hey Phil, why not pull it from the set list?  Replace it with a random Genesis track like “Jesus He Knows Me”.  No one will be upset.

Despite all that I’ve just written, there is one cultural relic from the fall of 1985 that was more unbearable than the “Separate Lives” single.  I am, of course, referring to the “Separate Lives” video.  It features all the fun of the song, plus slow-moving scenes from the White Nights movie added at the beginning and end.  The only thing missing from this multi-sensory entertainment experience is Gregory Hines and Mikhail Baryshnikov coming to your house and kicking you in the gonads whenever the video is on.  I bet this would have happened too if they’d had the budget.

OK, I feel better now that I got this off my chest after almost 40 years.  I’m glad I never have to think about White Nights again.  On to the next bad #1 hit.  Wait, what the hell?  Another song from White Nights??

“We Built This City” by Starship (1985)

One critic’s view:  “It purports to be anti-commercial but reeks of ‘80s corporate-rock commercialism.  It’s a real reflection of what practically killed rock music in the ‘80s.” – Craig Marks @ Blender, as quoted in USA Today

The public’s view:  2.05 / 5.00, the second-worst #1 hit of 1985

With so many articles, books, and doctoral dissertations written about why “We Built This City” is the worst thing that has happened since the Visigoths sacked Rome, there is little I can add to the discussion.  I will keep this post brief.

Is “We Built This City” really that awful?  No, not compared to so many of the other hits that have been featured here, but it does have a fundamental incongruity at its core.  The song was conceived as a protest against greedy corporations that were buying out popular venues and ruining the live music scene in Los Angeles.  This was an amazing germ of a song idea, but too many people got involved in the writing and production.  The track was reworked into something so corporate that it should have featured a calculator solo by Grace Slick’s stockbroker.  Meanwhile, it kept enough of the original theme – and a few nonsense lyrics – to come across as hypocritical.  The last thing that critics want to hear in a rock song is hypocrisy.

I can’t think of any other hits that followed a similar tortuous path from inception to hypocrisy, so I’ll make up an example of what this was like.  Imagine that a third songwriter had barged in on Lionel Richie and Michael Jackson while they were working on “We Are the World”.  Let’s call this fictional person “Bryan Adams”.  Now suppose that after Lionel finishes writing two heart-rending verses about the famine in Africa, “Bryan” adds a powerful chorus urging everyone to go to Sizzler, gorge themselves on the all-you-can-eat buffet, and leave a pile of wasted food on their plate when they’re done.  Also, in a nod to Michael’s pet snake, he inserts the line “Balboa played the boa.”  And then – despite some initial misgivings – the all-star celebrity choir sings these lyrics with sincerity and conviction.  Bruce Springsteen screams “Eat at Sizzler!”, and it becomes one of the iconic moments of the decade.

Now we have a charity fundraising single with the same problems as “We Built This City”.  Actually, I think this would be pretty cool.

“We Are the World” by USA for Africa (1985)

One person’s view:  “Every copy of this single ever made should be ritually burned.” – rushomancy @ Rate Your Music

The public’s view:  1.83 / 5.00, the worst #1 hit of 1983 through 1985

After exiting the doldrums, pop music and the Hot 100 had a couple of magnificent years in 1983 and 1984.  For a moment it looked like I would be permanently out of fodder for this blog.  However, there comes a time when we heed a certain call to skewer yet another song.

“We Are the World” presents me with the same type of conundrum as “Everything Is Beautiful”.  It’s one of the most well-intentioned chart-toppers ever, and I don’t have any kind of personal beef with it.  However, the retrospective reviews of it are horrendous.  If I don’t write at least a brief post about it, I can’t call my blog “The Bad #1 Hits”.

The complaints about “We Are the World” could fill a room the size of the egos that were famously checked at the door at the recording session.  The project is derided as a performative bit of “hey look at me” do-goodism which accomplished nothing that couldn’t have been achieved by less irksome means – like having each person in attendance write a check for $1 million.  The lyrics are simplistic and focus on the do-gooders rather than the people who need help.  The vocalists all sound like parodies of themselves.  The tune drags on for nearly twice as long as necessary, turning a plea for money into an especially aggravating plea for money.

All of this is essentially true.  However, it’s hard to imagine a lofty endeavor like this turning out much better than it did.  Put yourself in Lionel Richie’s shoes:  you have a very limited time to write a song that must become a multimillion-selling anthem.  Worse still, you have to work on it with Michael Jackson at his house, and he has a pet boa constrictor that doesn’t always stay in its cage.  You’d get one verse written, hear a noise behind you, and then have to take a break to change into a clean pair of trousers.  I’ll give Lionel credit just for finishing the song under these circumstances.

The real problem with “We Are the World” and its sibling “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” is that they led to a period in which rock stars thought they could solve any worry with a sing-along.  This was especially the case in the U.K., where charity anthems became a frequent occurrence.  If you stubbed your toe on the streets of Ipswich, there would soon be thirty people gathered in a studio to call attention to your plight.

In the U.S., the main legacy of “We Are the World” was the even more ambitious project Hands Across America.  This event was like if the Underpants Gnomes from South Park got into the charitable fundraising business.  Step 1:  Ask millions of people to form a human chain stretching from New York to L.A.  Step 2:  ???  Step 3:  Hunger and poverty have been eradicated.

By some measures, Hands Across America was a huge success.  None of the participants got run over by a car or a train, nobody got struck by lightning, and there weren’t any fistfights over who had to hold hands with that kid who was picking his nose outside of Albuquerque.  However, by this time the charity craze was about over.  Today, whenever you hear anyone mention raising money to fight world hunger, it brings back memories of other fads of that era like Cabbage Patch dolls, shoulder pads, and Dynasty.  People sure did some weird things back in the ‘80s.