The Bangles "I Will Never Be Through With You"

I've blogged on The Bangles before, mentioning that it's easy to write them off as a bit of 80s silliness, based on their videos and their hits.

But I've come around to the point where I recognize what lots of their fans, past and present, acknowledge---they're actually a pretty rocking band, with a great 60-Pop sensibility.

If you can get past your burning desire to Walk Like An Egyptian and mock them, you'll find that this new track is a really well crafted, pop-rock song.

It's not really getting any attention anywhere, because folks are quick to dismissed an artist, based on 25-year-old feelings.

So really, discovering this song, is like discovering a new band that your friends don't know about!


Hear the song on Youtube.

Susanna Hoffs “The Look Of Love"

So I had Susanna Hoffs on the phone for a Person Of The Week interview, specifically to talk about her involvement in the “Keep The Light Alive” charity CD for Lou Gerhig’s Disease, and when we finished talking about that project, well, I wanted to take advantage of having her on the phone, so I peppered her with a few more questions.

We talked about her collaborations with Matthew Sweet, the new Bangles record she and her bandmates are working on, and the possibility of a Vineyard visit someday.

Listen to that bonus part of the interview.

I loved her description of why covers are fun to do.

While I was on the carpet in the Living Room listening to records, she was in her room somewhere, listening to records with a guitar in her hands, trying to figure out something like, “Monday Monday” or “Sugar Magnolia.”

And, man, between the two collaborative covers records she’s done with Matthew Sweet, and the Bangles and solo records she’s done, there are some amazing covers, that do just what a good interpretation should---it should recall the original, but really have some kind of stamp of the interpreter.

So, for your entertainment, on the last day of a week’s worth of Susanna Hoffs posts, a bevy of her cover songs.

The Bangles “Walking Down Your Street”

I didn’t have a CD player---they weren’t really common---until I went off to college. So all of my pre-collegiate listening memories take me right back to the carpet in the Living Room.

That’s where the record player was. And later Dad added a cassette player to the system.

If you wanted to listen to music, that’s where you went. Mom’s Living Room.

It was Mom’s Living Room, because, as she would often say, “I want one room in the house to be just for me.”

Toys could be strewn from the upstairs bedrooms all the way down to the basement, but they weren’t allowed in the Living Room. Food was strictly forbidden. Horseplay? You were looking at a one way ticket to a grounding, if you were horsing around in the Living Room.

But the Living Room was the only place you could really listen to music, so we were allowed to sit in there and listen.

So we'd sit. And listen. Maybe stare at an album cover or something. We'd quietly enjoy the music.

And let’s face it, like any kids, when Mom wasn’t looking, we jumped around like crazy.

We’d spin records and figure out how much we could jump up and down, without skipping the vinyl. We’d try to recreate the moves from “Grease Lightning.” The tennis rackets and hairbrushes and other pre-Rock Band pseudo-instruments would cross that magic carpeted boundary, into a forbidden zone of the Living Room where we imagined ourselves to be stars.

When I came home, a few weeks back, and told my wife that I’d be interviewing Susanna Hoffs, she gasped, “I loved her!”

And I said, “I know you loved her, I knew you’d be excited.”

She said, “No. I didn’t just love her. I wanted to BE her.”

When I started looking back over Susanna Hoffs’ career, and my eye wandered past “Walking Down Your Street,” I suddenly went there, to the carpet in the Living Room, where my sister Julie (who’s the same age as my wife), is dancing with her friends to that song. They’re singing it, fully, arms dramatically acting out the words, running from one end of the room to the other, in and out of the hallway and back in the Living Room.

SHE wanted to be Susanna Hoffs.

It’s a good memory. And in brotherly fashion, I can’t wait to tease her about it the next time I see her.



The official video, with Randy Quaid & Little Richard!

The Bangles "Manic Monday"

The blessing and curse of success, is that your success tends to define you to a world of people. It seems particularly true with early success.

Some folks grin and bear it. I thought Matthew Broderick was a little more rueful, than wistful, during the Oscars this year, when, during a tribute to the late John Hughes, he described being recognized every day, as Ferris Bueller.

Some pretend it didn't happen. To this day, the Beastie Boys insist that their early beer-drinking, songs about girls and giant inflatable penis schtick was intentionally "ironic."

Some folks are stoic. Jimmy Buffett always plays "Margaritville" in concert, saying that that song got him through his lean years, and he's always willing to play it.

Some folks just shut the door on it. Arlo Guthrie went through years of refusing to play "Alice's Restaurant."

And some folks embrace it. At that Lilith Fair gig I mentioned in Monday's post, Susanna Hoffs actually led the crowd in a solo acoustic version of "Walk Like An Egyptian," which she didn't have to do (and probably didn't necessarily WANT to do), but did do, with cheeky aplomb.

And she won me over, late in our conversation, during the Person Of The Week interview.

We had been scheduled to talk by phone at a certain hour. (It sounds like a weird, teenage nightmare but) I literally waited for an hour, by the studio phone, waiting for Susanna to call. When she didn't call, I checked in with Claudia, who'd set up the interview.

After a few calls back and forth, Claudia let me know that Susanna had had a brief emergency at home, and wanted to reschedule for later in the day.

The second time, she called right on time, and apologized several times.

At the end of the interview, as we were wrapping up, to let her know that I really wasn't offended that she had missed our first appointment, we had this exchange.

Listen to it here.

I just thought that was so cool. There was no reason to bring up the song. I'm sure, like Matthew Broderick and his "Ferris" fans, Susanna has been on the receiving end of a joke like that.

But it showed a comfort with her past success, that lends confidence to the many projects she's currently a part of. And which I'll write about later this week.

The Bangles “We Belong”

All my posts this week, spring out of interviewing Susanna Hoffs, over the phone for mvyradio's Person Of The Week, because she was a part of “Keep The Light Alive,” a tribute to the songs of Lowen & Navarro.

About 5 years, back, Eric Lowen was diagnosed with ALS, also known as Lou Gerhig’s Disease. It’s a neurogenerative affliction that slowly causes the person to lose use of their muscles, to the point where they are no longer able to walk or move or speak.

Jackson Browne, Five For Fighting and Keb Mo did covers of Lowen & Navarro songs, as did the group Susanna is still a part of, The Bangles, doing what is probably the most recognizable L&N song, “We Belong” (you probably know the Pat Benetar version).

I’ve complained in the past, about songs being ruined by having them re-associated with a commercial message. But here, I’m glad for the re-direction.

Now, when I hear what was a love song for the unsure, I instead hear an Anthem, that’s could just as easily be about old friends remaining committed to each other.


Buy the album and Support The Cause.

You can hear the Person Of The Week feature with Susanna Hoffs, where she talks about her friendship with L&N, and how and why she is involved with “Keep The Light Alive,” in our archives.

Lowen & Navarro & Friends sing


The Bangles version, with, for no reason, Disney footage:


The Pat Benatar version:

Susanna Hoffs "Eternal Flame"

I think if you say “The Bangles,” your mind, like mine, probably goes straight back to the 80s. The warm wave of nostaglia washes over you with images of Big Hair, chunky jewelry, and your ridiculous attempts toward making those “Walk Like An Egyptian” moves somehow danceable.

And then, perhaps, you dismiss it. The band. The music. The era.

One of the absolutely most rewarding parts of my job as a DJ, is that, from time to time, you find yourself in a situation where need to go well below the surface of an idea, and you come to appreciate why something that could easily be dismissed as nostalgia or fluff, has substance and soul. It goes a long way to explaining longevity, among other things.

Last month, I was pitched the idea of doing an interview with someone involved in the “Keep The Light Alive: The Songs Of Lowen & Navarro” album, a project which is raising money for Lou Gerhig’s Disease research and treatment. I’d naturally assumed that I’d be speaking to Lowen, or Navarro, or perhaps my initial contact on the project, Claudia Stuart Navarro. But after a bit of back and forth, Claudia said, “I am going to put you in touch with Susanna Hoffs, of The Bangles.” The Bangles contributed a song on this project, and Claudia thought Susanna would be an interesting and appropriate spokesperson.

And here’s where it happens. You have to start preparing yourself for this interview. Really listen to the music. Think about the performer and how you’re going to relate to them. And you examine them in a whole new light.

I think for most folks, Susanna Hoffs and The Bangles are some kind of totem for the 80s, that doesn’t go much deeper than 2 or 3 songs. But when I starting thinking about, and listening to, the music of her nearly 30 year career, I realized that there are so many songs I like, that I have history with, and mean more to me than just some one-hit-wonder.

So all this week, I think I’ll write a bit about Susanna Hoffs, and maybe get you to think about her in a Different Light (ugh, did I just make that joke?).

And you know, this isn’t the first time I found myself reconsidering her work.

Back in the mid-90s, Susanna was on the bill at Lilith Fair. I hadn’t planned on checking out her set, but I was headed from seeing this up-and-coming singer named Kacy Crowley, in one of the small tents, to catch Emmylou Harris on the main stage, when I found myself passing a side stage that had Susanna doing an acoustic solo set.

And hearing some of those songs I’d heard a thousand times before (or, actually, had seen a thousand times before, on MTV), done with a simple guitar and voice, caused me to stop and really listen.

I have two distinct memories of the show. One was that she covered “September Gurls.” At that time, I'd become obsessed with Big Star, a band that seemingly few people knew. And I further realized that The Bangles had covered this song in the 80s, and that at that time I didn’t know who Big Star was. If they were into Big Star, how could I write them off?

The other song that I clearly remember is “Eternal Flame,” which, when it was released, I wrote off as a chick song that had nothing to do with me. My ears were closed.

But my ears were open that day---I was there to hear new music, right---and I remember thinking to myself, “That’s actually a great little song.” Beautiful in its simplicity.

So let me reconsider Susanna Hoffs with you this week, and hopefully, you’ll do the same.

To hear a clip from Lilith Fair, jump to track 10 on the pop up player.