Today, it has achieved object permanence, a pillar of '80s "modern rock" (soon giving way to the equally useless label "alternative rock") and a go-to soundtrack for Burger King, Hershey, and any other company looking to pillage your emotional memories for cash. But here's the nagging thing: It was never the chart-smashing hit that, through the seemingly endless revisions of "history," it has become.
"I Melt With You" by the British group Modern English (4ad lovers, represent!) had two runs at the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and both times, it failed to reach the coveted Top 40. So how does it have such current currency, despite the two-time status as a failed single? Quite easy, actually: It was much-loved by a small percentage of college-aged music freaks who went on to become older marketing aces with more power and long memories, and these once-and-future-geeks felt no reservations about raiding their record collections (or the record collections of their older, cooler siblings) for "deep cuts" on mainstream radio stations or background music for adverts. Lay on the repeat exposure on "oldies" stations and commercials, and memories get reconfigured with ease.
But is that reconfiguration such a big deal? What's to worry about when a one-hit wonder receives long-overdue exposure? For autistic-spectrum older nerds such as myself, I'm concerned with the creation of superficial memes that represent times in history of significant depth and span. In other words, when you reconfigure the past, you risk losing a good chuck of info that defined that past in the first place. (For example, acts like Modern English were "fag music" around my Roscommon high school and would have never been played by the vast majority of RHS students, and it's important to understand those prejudices of that era and geography.)
For the longest time, I studied the Billboard charts like a bible, pouring over what makes a hit a hit. But for the past ten years or so, I've paid only cursory attention, as it's been clear that Billboard is a relic of the pre-Internet past w/r/t measurement of the true impact of a song like "I Melt With You." But now, a web-based company called BigChampagne has developed a new rubric called "The Ultimate Chart": a list of the top 100 songs (and top 100 artists) from information that not only incorporates iTunes, Amazon and radio stations nationwide, but MTV, Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, YouTube, Yahoo!, AOL, Last.FM, just to name a few.
The goal of BigChampagne's venture is to include "retailers, online and traditional broadcast ventures where fans demonstrate their passion for music," and anything that takes such a broad-spectrum snapshot of the true impact of an artist or song is welcome, especially in the current fragmented cultural climate of microniches and manufactured acclaim. Because even though it wasn't a "hit" per se, "I Melt With You" scored many a summer night in my teens, yearning for a romantic interlude of such heft and magnitude as the one described in that song, a triumph of impact if not ranking. And that's worth stopping the world over.
(P.S. -- And to the people at VH-1 Classic, remember that Spandau Ballet was not a one-hit wonder, as they had three Top 40 singles on the Billboard charts. So suck it.)
"I Melt With You" by the British group Modern English (4ad lovers, represent!) had two runs at the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and both times, it failed to reach the coveted Top 40. So how does it have such current currency, despite the two-time status as a failed single? Quite easy, actually: It was much-loved by a small percentage of college-aged music freaks who went on to become older marketing aces with more power and long memories, and these once-and-future-geeks felt no reservations about raiding their record collections (or the record collections of their older, cooler siblings) for "deep cuts" on mainstream radio stations or background music for adverts. Lay on the repeat exposure on "oldies" stations and commercials, and memories get reconfigured with ease.
But is that reconfiguration such a big deal? What's to worry about when a one-hit wonder receives long-overdue exposure? For autistic-spectrum older nerds such as myself, I'm concerned with the creation of superficial memes that represent times in history of significant depth and span. In other words, when you reconfigure the past, you risk losing a good chuck of info that defined that past in the first place. (For example, acts like Modern English were "fag music" around my Roscommon high school and would have never been played by the vast majority of RHS students, and it's important to understand those prejudices of that era and geography.)
For the longest time, I studied the Billboard charts like a bible, pouring over what makes a hit a hit. But for the past ten years or so, I've paid only cursory attention, as it's been clear that Billboard is a relic of the pre-Internet past w/r/t measurement of the true impact of a song like "I Melt With You." But now, a web-based company called BigChampagne has developed a new rubric called "The Ultimate Chart": a list of the top 100 songs (and top 100 artists) from information that not only incorporates iTunes, Amazon and radio stations nationwide, but MTV, Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, YouTube, Yahoo!, AOL, Last.FM, just to name a few.
The goal of BigChampagne's venture is to include "retailers, online and traditional broadcast ventures where fans demonstrate their passion for music," and anything that takes such a broad-spectrum snapshot of the true impact of an artist or song is welcome, especially in the current fragmented cultural climate of microniches and manufactured acclaim. Because even though it wasn't a "hit" per se, "I Melt With You" scored many a summer night in my teens, yearning for a romantic interlude of such heft and magnitude as the one described in that song, a triumph of impact if not ranking. And that's worth stopping the world over.
(P.S. -- And to the people at VH-1 Classic, remember that Spandau Ballet was not a one-hit wonder, as they had three Top 40 singles on the Billboard charts. So suck it.)
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