A to Z: The 1980s

Calvin Harris enthused about them in the hit single ‘Acceptable In The ‘80s’, but he was too young to truly appreciate how grim the era really was. AU draws the veil on the decade that refuses to die.

A

is for A-TEAM. Twenty years ago, a crack commando unit made up of acting has-beens and egocentrics promptly escaped from career nosedive by starring in a television programme that became a bona fide hit by wowing overexcited preteen boys the world over. They were soldiers of fortune, and their mission was to help the oppressed, blow stuff up, and devise ingenuous ways of getting aviophobic B.A. Baracus onto a plane. Today, still wanted by the government, they appear infrequently in adverts – and rehab. If you have a longing to revisit the 1980s, and no one else can help, and you can find them in the DVD bargain basket, maybe you can hire… The A-Team.

B

is for BAND AID. Massively significant celebrity charity project organised by Bob Geldof and Midge Ure. Contrast in an age of self-interested yuppies buying and selling everything but their souls with the single ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’, which raised much-needed funds for famine-stricken Ethiopia, and affected the nation’s consciousness in a profoundly humanitarian way. World poverty and hunger would never be ignored in quite the same fashion again.

C

is for CUBE, of the Rubik’s variety (aka the Continuum Transfunctioner, dude). In the days before Bebo and Happy Slapping, Britain’s youth played with brain-juddering mathematical toys like this for fun. It’s, you know, for kids.

D

is for DALLAS. Preposterous but knowing soap opera revolving around an oil tycoon and his morally bankrupt family. So popular that when JR Ewing was shot, the collective gasp nearly knocked the world off its axis. See also Dynasty, Knott’s Landing, Falcon Crest.

E

is for E.T. Spielberg’s evergreen sci-fi fable that launched the career of Drew Barrymore. Sadly, things did not turn out so well for the film’s diminutive alien star: after an unsuccessful film career, E.T. embarked on a life of petty crime, and currently can be seen with Uri Geller in the Reality TV show Bend My Spoons. Bonus joke: What’s E.T. short for? He’s got little legs.

F

is for FRANKIE SAYS… Just one of the many unforgivable sartorial trends from the 80s was the donning of baggy white t-shirts bearing slogans inspired by the songs of Liverpudlian naughty boys Frankie Goes To Hollywood. Imperatives included “Frankie Says Arm The Unemployed” and “Frankie Says Relax”, a reference to the bawdy single that got Radio 1 DJ Mike Reid in a tizzy.

G

is for GHOSTBUSTERS. Bustin’ made ‘em feel good. Along with The Empire Strikes Back and Police Academy 3, this was the cinematic event of the 80s. What could be finer than cranky old snaggletooth Bill Murray and co. fighting an ectoplasmic marshmallow man wearing a sailor’s hat and necktie? Spawned Ray Parker Jnr’s hit single of the same name, and prompted schoolboys in urinals to giggle, “Don’t cross the streams, Egon.”

H

is for HULK HOGAN. Tough but cuddly wrestler prone to ripping his own vest when riled – he must have shopped at Primark. Not to be confused with Paul Hogan, Australian actor who was famous for an eye blink for his role in cack comedy Crocodile Dundee.

I

is for INDIANA JONES. Nazis. Explosions. Tanks. Guns. Beetles. Bullwhips. Pretty ladies. Melting faces. Monkeys. Decapitation. What more could a young boy want from a feature film?

J

is for JASON DONOVAN. Genial Australian heartthrob who appeared in Neighbours, hooked up with Kylie Minogue, became Joseph (without having to appear on a tawdry BBC1 television show) and was immortalised on the back of black bomber jackets sold in most town markets.

K

is for KNIGHT RIDER. The 80s really did mark the apex of high concept television. How about this classic, in which a David Hasselhof played a curly-bapped playboy, solved crimes with the aid of his intelligent computerised car? Or Street Hawk, in which a streetwise young buck solved crimes by the power of his intelligent computerised superbike? Or Manimal, in which a distinguished gentleman solved crimes by transforming into various wild beasts without the aid of CGI? Or Airwolf, in which… well, you get the idea. There were a lot of crimes to be solved in the 80s.

L

is for LEGWARMERS. Along with headbands, acid-washed jeans and shoulder pads that helicopters could land on, the 80s was a good time to be a nudist.

M

is for MINI POPS. Deeply sinister Channel 4 television music programme featuring barely adolescent tots in make-up and adult clothes miming to hit records of the time. After the show’s complaints in-tray filled up faster than Jimmy Saville’s “fix it” postbag, the show was cancelled, though not before The Daily Mail had fumed that The Mini Pops were responsible for “the slaying of childhood”. For once, however, they might have been right.

N

is for NEW ROMANTICS. The collective term for synth-playing, cosmetics-loving, frilly-collared, effeminate fops like Spandau Ballet, The Human League and A Flock Of Seagulls. Playground scuffles would often orginate over the question of who was better, Duran Duran or Wham!

O

is for ORVILLE THE DUCK. Anthropomorphic, slightly creepy puppets were all the rage back then. See also Edd The Duck, Emu, Gordon The Gopher, Andi Peters.

P

is for PRINCE. Back in the 80s, the artist then known as Prince wasn’t quite as bonkers as he is now. He lived in a big purple house. He had a lemon yellow guitar. He built his own batcave. Come to think of it, Prince was pretty bonkers in the 80s.

Q

is for QUILT COVERS. Here’s a rhetorical question: how many youngsters during this decade didn’t have a duvet bedecked with one of the following designs: BMX, Return Of The Jedi, He-Man, Flash Gordon, Roger Rabbit.

R

is for ROLLER BOOTS. Walking was uncool during the 80s.

S

is for STOCK, AITKEN AND WATERMAN. The Machiavellian “Hit Factory” responsible for the careers of Bananarama, Rick Astley and Sinitta. As Great Britain faced political upheaval, mass unemployment and the very real threat of nuclear war, these unscrupulous gold-diggers churned out one incorrigibly cheery single after another. As if the British populace hadn’t suffered enough already, they were tormented by the likes of Big Fun and Brother Beyond. Basically, SAW were the Three Horsemen Of The Apocalypse, but with catchier tunes.

T

is for THUNDERCATS. The chronicles of Liono and Mumm-Ra was essential viewing for any young 80s boy worth his salt. And then there was the confusing issue of feline heroine Cheetara. Is it wrong to fancy a cat?

U

is for ULYSSES 31. No, not James Joyce’s labyrinthine metafictional novel, but a surreal, never-ending, badly-dubbed cartoon import set in space (the name rhymes with “galaxies”). Philip Schofield, then ensconced in the Children’s BBC “Broom Cupboard”, loved it. See also Battle Of The Planets, Dogtanian And The Three Muskehounds, The Mysterious Cities Of Gold, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

V

is for VHS. Before the humble video player became a standard household fixture, the only alternative was the top-loading Betamax, which gave out a disagreeable “kerchunk” when you pressed the stop button. This made watching video nasties all the more difficult.

W

is for WALKMAN. Back in the day, when having a rewind button was seen as hi-tech, Sony’s portable music player was truly revolutionary. It was portable to the extent that it had a dinky plastic clip for attaching itself to your belt, but it did feel as if you were carting a house brick around with you – not to mention the chaffing. Came in three colours: red, charcoal grey and electric blue.

X

is for X-RATED. Phasers were permanently set to outrage during the 80s. Madonna offended all and sundry with her controversial videos and Kylie upset the apple cart by starring as a troubled teen in The Delinquents. Meanwhile, the government clamped down on so-called “Video Nasties”, the deluge of horrible, low-budget horror movies you could only rent from dingy high street stores. Erroneously, Sam Raimi’s brilliant schlock comedy zombie romp The Evil Dead was singled out as the main offender.

Y

is for YO-YOS. A mercifully brief primary school fad had schoolboys rushing out to buy “Spinners” with Coca Cola and Fanta logos printed on them, and performing the tricky “walk the dog” and “cat’s cradle” trick to impress girls.

Z

is for ZX SPECTRUM. Rubber-keyed but not rubber-souled home computer which ushered in a new dawn of home gaming. Thank you, Sir Clive.

Words_Ross Thompson

Issue #51 - I Told You This Would Be A Good Issue

Featuring Biffy Clyro, Of Montreal, Duke Special, Frightened Rabbit, Cold War Kids, Jay Reatard, Pat Mills, and more.