not a one-hit wonder...Originally Posted by Emon74
meron din siyang "love, thy will be done" at "colored kisses"...
DAMN! early '90s high school-era guilty pleasures... :D
not a one-hit wonder...Originally Posted by Emon74
meron din siyang "love, thy will be done" at "colored kisses"...
DAMN! early '90s high school-era guilty pleasures... :D
Try ko lang.... ;D
Where You Goin' Now? -- Damn Yankees
How Do You Talk To An Angel? -- The Heights
Suaviter In Modo,
Fortiter In Re
Originally Posted by pablohoney
Sino dito ang may kopya ng videoke hit na "Pasumpa-sumpa Ka Pa, T*ngna Ka" by Milyo Naryo? Hehe.
I stopped saying "LOL" ten years ago.
From Cracked - - -
5 One-Hit Wonders Who Deserve Your Respect
By Adam Tod Brown March 21, 2012 999,367 views
There is no bigger double-edged sword when it comes to a music career than being labeled a one-hit wonder. Sure, it's embarrassing to have that kind of label attached to your name, placing you squarely in the same league with such luminaries as Young MC and Vanilla Ice. But it's better than being a no-hit wonder, right? Of course, the answer to that question is a resounding ... "sometimes." See, in a lot of instances, the bands you know as one-hit wonders are actually much more than that. So much so that having that one gigantic hit probably did more harm to their reputations than good, because it completely overshadowed all of the other great things they accomplished. Like who? Glad you asked! Here are five one-hit wonders who deserve your respect ...
You Know Them As ...
... the band with that half pencil-drawn/half live-action music video that people still fawn over to this day as one of the most innovative of all time. The video in question is for the song "Take on Me," which you probably pretend to hate. You're just lying to yourself, though, because it's pretty damn wonderful. The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can be friends again. In the meantime, here's the video, in case you don't remember it:
But after that one iconic video, the band known as a-ha was basically never seen from again in the United States. They're the very definition of a one-hit wonder, right? Not really. They Are Also ... ... one of the 50 highest grossing musical acts in the world. At least they were in 2010. No, seriously, you can read all about it here, provided you don't mind running an entire article through Google Translate. Why the lack of English language sources to back up the claim? Because, to put it bluntly, the U.S. doesn't give two shits about a-ha anymore. But, much like soccer, the rest of the world thinks they're quite entertaining. Over the course of a career that started in 1982 and has been going strong ever since, a-ha has sold more than 36 million albums and 15 million singles worldwide. Love for a-ha is especially strong in their native Norway, where the band has racked up an impressive 10 Spellemannprisens. I know, you're all like, "Come on, Adam, that's a lot of Spellemannprisens for just one band, you must be lying."
Oh, what's that? Your real response was "What in the motherfuck is a Spellemannprisen?" I guess that's an understandable reaction, too. Basically, a Spellemannprisen is the Norwegian equivalent of a Grammy, and a-ha has won a bunch of them. In fact, at the 2011 Spellemannprisen awards show, the band was given an honorary award with the words "Our Heroes -- Once upon a time, now -- Still and forever" inscribed on it. Heroes! Bruce Springsteen would literally have to rescue a small child from a roaring house fire before anyone started handing him "hero" awards. All in all, they've had a pretty impressive run for a band that damn near everyone in the United States lost all memory of sometime around 1986.
#4. Dexys Midnight Runners
You Know Them As ...
... three words: "Come on Eileen." It's one of those songs that people either love or hate. There's not much middle ground. I don't think it's particularly awful, but I have friends who could probably be talked into starting a bar fight with the person bold enough to play "Come on Eileen" on the jukebox. If you've never heard the song, here's hoping the cave you live in has enough Internet connectivity to watch this video:
No matter what side of the "Come on Eileen" fence you fall on, there's one thing we can all agree on. No band that dresses like their main musical influence is that banjo-playing kid from Deliverance is worthy of anything resembling respect, right? They Are Also ... ... not nearly as awful as you think. I know, that's not the greatest argument of all time, but hear me out. See, it's not like Dexys Midnight Runners always wore those ridiculous get-ups. What they did do is make the ill-fated decision to change their "look" to reflect the musical direction of each of their albums. So, they weren't really the band of British hillbillies that most people take them for; they just happened to record an album with a bunch of fiddles on it and decided that the only logical next step was to dress up like they hailed from the furthest reaches of the Appalachians. In fact, on their first album (that's right, they had more than one), they just kind of looked like every other British band of the late '70s. In other words, they looked like the Clash.
Granted, as far as music goes, they definitely were not the Clash. But give the above video a listen if you haven't already. You might be shocked to find that, in their day, Dexys Midnight Runners were a pretty good band. They just dressed like a bunch of idiots occasionally and happened to have released one of the most simultaneously loved and hated songs of all time. And guess what, they're still together! Well, by "still" I mean "reunited after 26 years." And they don't look nearly as ridiculous this time around. Slightly ridiculous, yes. But at least they aren't dressed like former WWE wrestler Hillbilly Jim anymore. That has to count for something toward your opinion of them, right?
You Know Them As ...
... those weirdos in the red plastic hats who made that "Whip It" song in the '80s and then promptly vanished. I can't imagine how you would have lived your life in complete ignorance of this song, but just in case, here's the video:
Do people hate Devo? I guess I'm not 100 percent sure. I trust the comments section will let me know. For my part, I figure people look at them more as some sort of quirky oddity that made a blip on the 1980s radar (the kind with just a black and green display, no doubt) and went on to smaller and lesser things after that. They Are Also ... ... massively influential. To be completely honest, when I was researching this article and saw Devo on a list of the Top 100 One-Hit Wonders, I was kind of perplexed. Sure, they only had one big hit, but do they really deserve to be lumped in with the likes of Rockwell and Gerardo?
But, you know, they did just kind of have that one hit, so I guess the title fits. But seriously, these guys are revered among alt-rock and industrial music types. Kurt Cobain cited them as one of his favorite bands and even included a cover of a Devo song called "Turnaround" on the Incesticide album. If you're into any band that favors odd time signatures or the occasional synthesizer, they probably listened to a lot of Devo. And it's not like they just listened to "Whip It" on repeat for days on end. We're talking about a band that has nine albums to their name. That isn't a number that a band that only had one decent song going for it would put up. Hell, they were influencing big name artists before "Whip It" was even released. Take Neil Young, for example. The title of his 1979 album Rust Never Sleeps came about after Devo frontman Mark Mothersbaugh suggested it. Young would later cast them in his film Human Highway, a movie so wonderfully terrible that the poster featured a quote that said "It's so bad, it's going to be huge." It wasn't. But still, they were in it! Neil Young even let them do the soundtrack for the film.
Which makes for a nice segue into this tidbit. Devo founder Mark Mothersbaugh is also responsible for like every movie soundtrack ever. Seriously, check out the list. But please, try to ignore the fact that his most recent work is Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked. He was also involved in the good shit, like Pee-wee's Playhouse, Rushmore and Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. If you've seen that last movie, then you already know that the soundtrack was literally the only thing it had going for it.
^^^ (Cont'd )
#2. Faith No More
You Know Them As ...
Alright, this band might be a little bit harder for some of you to remember. Their only "hit" was 1989's "Epic." You might remember it as one of the first times white people with electric guitars decided to rap on MTV.
Ugh. I'll be the first to admit it. I fucking hate this song. But it was gigantically popular in its day. Apparently, someone way up the chain isn't too fond of it anymore, because the closest thing I can find that resembles an official video doesn't allow embedding. So, you know, click that link if the video I embedded here gets taken down. I understand that the attention that comes with a major comedy site taking time out from making fun of everything in its path to instead lavish praise on someone might not be the attention record labels crave. Because they're stupid. Anyway, like I said, I'm not crazy about this song, but it doesn't matter. Because there's way more to the Faith No More story than this horribly cheesy tune. They Are Also ... ... one of the few bands on earth who can be credited with inventing an entire genre of music. For real, Faith No More is often credited as literally having invented alternative metal. Whether that's completely true or not is open for debate, but I promise you this, there are plenty of people out there who would likely have to be restrained from punching you if you dismissed Faith No More as a one-hit wonder. Granted, that's mostly because the kind of people who listen to "alternative metal" are also the kind of people who like to solve disputes with punches to the face, but still, it should give you some indication of the band's influence. And that claim didn't arise from the one song that briefly made them household names. They were around in one form or another as far back as 1981. Unfortunately, their influence doesn't end with "alternative metal." There's also something out there known as "nu-metal" that describes the Limp Bizkit rap/rock types of the world. Where do you think Fred Durst got the idea that subpar rapping and loud guitars were a great idea? Go watch that video posted above if you haven't already and you will find your answer.
So, respect Faith No More for ushering in a new sound in heavy metal, while also damning their name for bringing the world Limp Bizkit. Either way, they're far from one-hit wonders.
You Know Them As ...
... the ridiculously named U.K. band who has doomed us all to a lifetime of hearing the following lyrics every time people gather to drink alcohol in large quantities:
"He drinks a whiskey drink/He drinks a vodka drink/He drinks a lager drink/He drinks a cider drink"
The song is called "Tubthumping." If the lyrics don't jog your memory, here's the video: http://www.metrolyrics.com/passenger...umbawamba.html
If you were alive in 1997, you probably heard that song 500 times in the span of four months and, as a result, hate this band with every fiber of your being. While I accept that "Tubthumping" is an epic achievement in the field of music that makes people want to shoot their radio, please understand, there's more to Chumbawamba than just that one dreadful song. They Are Also ... ... one of the most raucously political bands of the last 30 years (they've also been releasing albums for well over 30 years). However, describing Chumbawamba as merely a "political" band would be like describing the ocean as merely "moist." No, that shit is wet, moist doesn't begin to explain it. And "political" doesn't begin to describe Chumbawamba. If you're looking for a better one-word description, you'd be a lot closer to the truth if you used the word "anarchists." Remember Live Aid? It was a massive concert that spanned several continents, all for the benefit of victims of famine in Ethiopia. Who could possibly take issue with that? Chumbawamba could, that's who. In their opinion, Live Aid was all a corporate sham designed to deflect attention from the real causes of world hunger. So, in protest, they released an album called Pictures of Starving Children Sell Records.
Pretty ballsy, right? Awesomely, their antics only got more insane after "Tubthumping" made them (in)famous. First, they saw their albums pulled from the shelves of Virgin Records stores after they appeared on Bill Maher's Politically Incorrect and instructed fans who couldn't afford their new album to shoplift it from major retail chains instead. Then, while performing "Tubthumping" at a British awards show, vocalist Danbert Nobacon (I'm not making that name up, but he might be) noticed a familiar face in the audience, walked up to the man and poured a jug of water on him. That man was U.K. Deputy Prime Minister John Prescott. To put that in U.S.A. terms, imagine someone from Rage Against the Machine throwing a water balloon at Joe Biden during the Grammys. It's kind of a bold step. Oh, and I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the band's 2000 B-side "Passenger List for Doomed Flight 1721," which is basically just them rattling off a list of people they wish would die in a plane crash, including everyone from former British Prime Minister Tony Blair to Bono to goddamn Ally McBeal. You can see the complete list here: http://www.metrolyrics.com/passenger...umbawamba.html
^ Tokayo, binuhay mo! Baka ma-straight jacket na ako dito for seemingly laughing out loud for no reason...
Pero nasasaktan ako kasi guilty pleasure ko si Eileen at hitik na hitik ang mp3 player ko ng a-Ha....
Mabalik sa one hit wonders:
Join the Club with their very very very mild hit Nobela. This band and its vocalist is destined for obscurity for relying heavily on vocal gimics (too much falsetto, "pa rock" sounding epek) and pa rock star look (meaning bad hair life and mukhang hindi naliligo)
... na LSS tuloy ako... when vincent dafalong you must whip it...
The Making of Band Aid: Secrets and Stories From the Star-Studded Session
Sting, Boy George, Bob Geldof, Midge Ure and more take us behind "Do They Know It's Christmas?"
By Lori Majewski | November 25, 2014
It's not yet Thanksgiving, but those commercial-free holiday-music marathons are already inescapable. Listen long enough and, after repeat playings of Mariah Carey and Mannheim Steamroller, you'll eventually be treated to that darkest of year-end chestnuts: Band Aid's "Do They Know It's Christmas?"
"The lyrics are bleak, but essentially so, and a welcome change from the bromides of mistletoe and the saccharine Christmas fare that is usually served up," says Sting, recalling the charity single he recorded 30 years ago – on November 25th – as a member of the mostly-British supergroup.
Nearly 40 artists – many of the biggest acts of the early Eighties, like Duran Duran, Culture Club, Wham!, even a then-bubbling-under U2 – converged that day at London's Sarm Studios in response to a harrowing BBC report on the starving victims of the Ethiopian famine. And every year since, "Do They Know It's Christmas?" reminds us, as we gobble down our holiday dinners, that "there's a world outside your window/it's a world of dread and fear." Then, in its bluntest moment: "Tonight thank God it's them instead of you."
"It was a song written for a specific purpose: to touch people's heartstrings and to loosen the purse strings," says ex-Ultravox singer Midge Ure, who wrote the song with Band Aid organizer Bob Geldof, frontman for the Boomtown Rats. "[The lyrics] had to be brutal. We were looking at television pictures of children spending five minutes trying to stand up."
"Band Aid and Live Aid were a great contradiction to what people thought, another side of the decade," says Boy George. "The Eighties were about greed and excess – we were called Thatcher's Children."
"We got lumped in with Thatcherism because people thought we were living the high life," adds Simon Le Bon. One reason Le Bon and his contemporaries found Band Aid so attractive, he says, was because it "was this opportunity to do something that wasn't about 'me.' It made you feel you could do something useful. We made young people believe they had some kind of power and were able to do something that did have an effect."
In stores just three days after it was recorded, "Do They Know" remained the U.K.'s biggest-selling record until Elton John's Princess Diana tribute version of "Candle in the Wind" overtook it almost 15 years later.
Earlier this month, new group of stars came together (at the U.N.'s request) to record a 30th anniversary update, but Geldof himself still has trouble hearing the original. "I associate it with the meat counter at my local supermarket," he says. "Every time I arrive to buy the fucking turkey, I hear [hums the song's intro]. The butcher looks at me with a little smile and I go, 'Yeah, yeah. Give me the fucking turkey, dude.'"
Here, he and his cast of musicians detail their world-changing session and share some of their favorite untold stories from the making of the hit.
"Do They Know It's Christmas?" began life as a rejected Boomtown Rats tune.
Midge Ure: Bob turned up at my place with a guitar that looked as though he'd found it in a dump. It had hardly any strings on it. He started singing me this thing – it was obvious he was making it up as he went along. He sounded like a demented Bob Dylan. There was no melody, no structure and every time he sang it, it sounded different. He presented me the idea for the lyrics, the "It's Christmastime, there's no need to be afraid." My main contribution was changing "And there won't be snow in Ethiopia this Christmas," which doesn't scan in anybody's book. We changed that to "Africa," and we wrote the middle section together: "Here's to you, raise a glass for everyone," which is the nod to the irony of [it being a] Christmas record.
Simon Le Bon thought "Do They Know It's Christmas?" was going to be a duet between him and Sting.
Simon Le Bon: I was the first one Bob called. He called out of the blue and said, "Simon, did you see the [BBC report on the Ethiopian famine] last night? We've got to do something." I didn't see the program. He told me what it was about, and he said, "I have an idea. We should make a charity record. What do you think?" I said, "Yes, mate. Absolutely." But it wasn't sold to me as, "This is going to be a whole pile of musical legends"; it was, "You and Sting do it." I thought I was going to get half the song. I was a bit pissed off, because when I walked into [Sarm Studios] they're already recording somebody else singing one of my lines! That took a while to sort of get my head around.
Sting didn't want to sing the lyric, "the bitter sting of tears."
Bob Geldof: Sting was moaning, "Do I have to sing that?" I said, "Yes, because it's just a coincidence that the word sting is in it." If you listen to the song, there's a deep bitterness in Sting's voice.
Sting: There's a touch of irony there. When we had to dole out the lines to everyone else, it wasn't an accident. I was still the King of Pain after all.
Bono didn't want to sing his line – "Tonight thank God it's them instead of you" – either.
Ure: Bono had a problem with it. He said, "Why would you say that?" That can be perceived as a brutal, unfeeling line.
Geldof: He said, "Are you really sure that's what you want to say?" And I said, "I'm really sure." I went through it with him rather like a director goes through a line that the actor may not be happy with.
Ure: But we're not saying, "Rather them than us." We're saying how lucky we are that we don't have to deal with that kind of extreme poverty. [After] Bob explained, Bono got it, and turned it into this magical moment on the record.
Geldof: He just has a profound rage. If you listen to the way the emotion of the song scales up, that's the big powerful explosion. That became a phenomenon, which none of us expected.
Ure: I think he probably scared himself when he did it. He jumped way up an octave, and it was just astonishing – the sound that this little guy could radiate! It was like standing next to an opera singer. He did it twice but I think we kept the first.
JT Taylor (Kool and the Gang): I hated that line. All these years, I thought I was the only only person who felt that. For me, it was the worst line in the whole song.
Band Aid taught Bono "how to care."
Ure: The Band Aid process changed him quite considerably. I saw a U2 concert three, four years ago, and they stopped the concert in the middle and said, "In the audience tonight…" And the spotlight came on me. Bono said, "Him and Bob taught me how to care."
Geldof: I pulled him into Band Aid. [U2] were young turks on the make; they hadn't really crested yet. But I thought, "He's got such a voice." And then Live Aid – they thought they blew it. It actually pushed them over the top. A few years later, he wanted to get involved in a related subject [the ONE Campaign, which fights extreme poverty and disease in Africa]. We argue all the time; it's kind of a good cop/bad cop [friendship]. He wants to give the world a big hug; I want to punch its lights out.
Boy George almost missed the recording session entirely.
Boy George: Culture Club had just done a show at Madison Square Garden, and I was in bed at the Plaza hotel. I got a call at three o'clock in the morning from Bob Geldof, whom I'd never met.
Ure: We had to have him. So Bob woke him up in New York. George said, "Who's there?" Bob said, "Every fucker but you. Get your ass on Concorde." And he did – at his own expense, I might add.
George: When I arrived, around eight o'clock in the evening, there was no time to practice or maybe have a go at the song to make sure you're in the right key. It was literally: "You're on!" I was thinking, "Oh my God, what's going to come out of my mouth?"
Ure: He turned up, and he said, "Can someone get me a brandy?" I had to press the intercom button and say, "No! We don't have anyone here to go running about for you." We didn't have mountains of food, we didn't have champagne, there was no sponsorship going on. It was incredibly basic.
George: I did pretty well, though. I remember Bob saying, "Oh George, you sound like a black lady – like a black mama!" I was like, "That's what I'm aiming for, so thank you!"
Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet arrived together – hungover.
Tony Hadley (Spandau Ballet): The night before we were in Germany on the piss with Duran, having a real good drink. By the morning, we were all pretty rough. We didn't look great. I remember arriving back at Heathrow and someone said, "There's all the press, there's cameras out there, there's about 400 screaming fans." All of a sudden we're all in the bathroom trying to make ourselves look presentable – you know, Nick Rhodes putting stacks of makeup on. I think we all put a bit of makeup on that day, actually.
Le Bon: I remember turning up in the car with a hangover. I did everything with a hangover in those days. I don't think John [Taylor, Duran Duran] had been to sleep at all. But that was John. He just didn't need much in those days because of chemical sleep.
The session was – as Boy George puts it – "a carnival of celebrities."
Sting: It was a funny day, like a school reunion for truants. All of us had a lot in common but had rarely been in the same room together. There were no fights as I remember.
Le Bon: That was the first time I met Sting. He was very friendly, apart from when I said, "God, it's really hot and sweaty in here," and he told me not to do so many drugs.
George: I had had a feud with Simon Le Bon, a bit of a confrontation in Paris, and we ended up walking into the studio arm in arm for the press.
Le Bon: Paul Weller wasn't very friendly. He was very political. . . and [Duran Duran] as a band had always stayed clear of politics. But [Band Aid] wasn't about politics, it was about saving lives. People wanted to have an effect, and that really is the line that joins me to Paul Weller. He wanted to help feed some kid in Africa, same as I did.
George: I remember hearing the voice after me and saying, "Who's that? Who's the girl?" and then being told it was George Michael. I said, "He sounds really camp." Then I said, "But he is, though, isn't he?" I was always trying to out George.
After the session, George Harrison advised on how to prevent Band Aid from turning into another financially questionable Concert for Bangladesh.
Ure: The Concert [for Bangaldesh]. . .all of the money didn't get where it was meant to go. It was spent on overhead and ad men. So [Harrison's advice to Geldof] was, "Get yourselves good accountants." We have the same accountants today who [ensure] we don't spent a penny on anything. We've had no office, no secretaries. We begged, borrowed, and stole telephone lines, space, whatever we could.
Mark Ellen Remembers The Tension At Original Band Aid Recording In 1984, And Who Finally Broke The Ice
Posted: 17/11/2014 14:24 GMT Updated: 17/11/2014 14:59 GMT
Band Aid 30 goes on sale today, with Bob Geldof telling everyone, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t like it. Just buy it.”
The weekend saw fans of One Direction, Ellie Goulding, Ed Sheeran, all sharing pictures on social media of the stars arriving at the famous Sarm Studios in Notting Hill, clamouring to hear who was singing what, who’d turned up, more controversially, who hadn’t.
Flash back 30 years, and Band Aid was an entirely more casual affair, consisting of Bob Geldof simply hitting the phone to his mates, and telling them where to be and when. No arguments.
Band Aid 1984 - 38 towering egos in a room. What could go wrong?
“Bob knew Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet and all the pop gang very well because of Paula Yates and The Tube,” remembers Mark Ellen, rock journalist who was editor of 'Smash Hits' at the time, and one of the few reporters allowed into the studios on the day.
“He was also in with the old rock and roll guard because he was a bit older than them (the popsters). His career itself was very much floundering, Boomtown Rats hadn’t had a hit for four years, so he was no threat to anybody and he was immensely liked. He was very clever, very forceful in the way he got people to cooperate.”
Following Bob’s persuasive phone calls, a bunch of disparate artists - Sting, Bono, George Michael among them - all rolled up at the studio early on the morning of Sunday 25 November, where Bob and Ultravox frontman Midge Ure were holding court. Mark describes the Duran mob arriving “in ski gear, goggles and all, strange” and the Spandau boys “with a bodyguard each, for a charity single”.
Each person stepping up to sing was like watching a penalty shoot-out, according to journalist Mark Ellen
According to Mark, there was a strange tension in the air, not only because of so many stars in one room, but because they’d all been freely slamming each other in the press in the months before.
“In 1984, pop music was a huge, high-earning, bank-rolling industry,” he recalls. “Records sold in gigantic quantities, there seemed to be room for everyone, and so there were millions of bands all at war with each other.
“Paul Weller used to be massively acerbic about everybody else, he was very opinionated, hated all the glam pop of Spandau Ballet and Duran, and now here he was in a room surrounded by everyone he’d been so horrible about in the press.
It was Jon Moss who broke the ice, running up to fellow drummer Phil Collins and shouting 'You're my hero'
“Meanwhile, old guard like Status Quo were often rather rubbished by the young guard even though, at the time, they were probably only about 35, only about 10 years older, but that’s a century in pop years. “
Mark Ellen remembers it being one person in particular who broke the ice – Jon Moss, drummer with Culture Club.
“He suddenly ran up and threw his arms around Phil Collins, and shouted, ‘you’re my hero’ and suddenly the atmosphere in the room got much warmer.”
Of course, Jon’s bandmate Boy George was causing ripples of his own – with his absence, despite Bob Geldof’s impassioned phone calls.
A true superstar knows how to make a late entrance
“He was a superstar in 1984, and Bob phoned him and said, ‘Where are you?’” remembers Mark. “The answer was New York. And Bob ranted, ‘Why aren’t you here?’ and so he got out of bed.
“Thank goodness for supersonic travel. George eventually turned up at about 6pm, with bright crimson hair and went straight up and did his vocals. But not before he’d had a huge glass of brandy.”
This weekend’s press saw Status Quo veteran Francis Rossi revealing that he’d brought his own contribution to making the party go with a swing – a little offering that might have required his own ski goggles, and could explain what happened when he encountered on Mark Ellen at the end of the day.
“Francis Rossi came up to me as I was leaving,” remembers Mark. “He told me he’d just been recording the chorus.
“Francis carried on, ‘Weird really, 38 people in a room, all singing Feed the Welsh.’”