1/15/2008
Richard Marx, "Endless Summer Nights"
In the summer of 1987, I was cleaning racquetball courts at a YMCA with an elderly feeble minded man, and a younger, completely moronic individual named Monte. We'd set up a scaffolding, get a bucket of hot, soapy water and clean all the scuff marks off the wall. This was what I'd studied for, then trained for, and now I was actually doing it and getting paid for it as well. And I was pretty sure that in time, say ten or fifteen years, I would be the guy saying, "You missed a spot," or "I suppose we should take a break."
One bonus that summer was that the reedy tenor of one Richard Marx would often liltingly make its way through the P.A., as the "Y" chose to entertain its patrons and workers with the Top 40 fare of the day.
Initially, Marx was presented to listeners as kind of a cocky, brash, cheeky, bite-the-hand-that-feeds-you sort of guy, with "Don't Mean Nothing," a song about his disgust with the entertainment industry--certainly as incendiary as anything off the Clash's Sandinista, or P.i.L.'s catalog, and moreso than its other fellow debut that year, Public Enemy's Yo! Bum Rush the Show. "Don't Mean Nothing" reached #3 on the charts, resonating with masses in America who were clearly fuming in the wake of Iran/Contra. Richard, using Hollywood as a clever metaphor for government corruptness, had hit one out of the ballpark in his first-at-bat.
I was in high school, (okay, so full time gym janitorial was still more a dream than anything else) and as was the tradition of the time, I still slept in my parents' bed, and they would not tune their clock radio to any station that would play Richard Marx, so my only opportunities to hear the song were when I ventured out to grocery stores, or hung out at the mall. His second single, a bitter love song called "Shoulda Known Better," was a driving, pulsating rock tune that even though they only heard it in snippets, did very little to assuage their fears about the powder keg that was Richard Marx. (You may remember a sucky ass song by the Beatles called "I Shoulda Known Better" which if retroactive-plagiarism was possible for something that came out before the thing it actually plagiarized, I'd have to wag my finger and say GUILTY!!!!)
And Richard's anger this time was aimed at a woman! And Richard, through a very catchy, yet bombastic hit, chastized himself for not "know[ing] better." Back at school, walking through the parking lot, I'd hear bits and pieces of this song coming out of nearly every car. My peers often played it during lovers' quarrels, or sitting alone, in the wake of a spat, they let RIchard articulate the feeings that were far too painful to put into words themselves.
Yet questions remained. Was Richard Marx anything other than just a talented guy who stirred the pot, so to speak? Or could he roll with the punches, improvise, and master other emotions that his listeners surely felt? Well, that was answered with this song, the third single from his self-titled debut. "Endless Summer Nights," it was called, and its another "regretter" but at a much slower, even Calypso-infused pace. And its theme, Bye-Bye Summer, and Bye-Bye Love, was something that everyone could embrace. The video itself is something that Fellini or even David Lynch would be jealous of... And here it is! Some critics call it "Lesser Marx" but I say it was a welcome relief from the cynical blast of his first two chart-toppers. I say "Marx Light" and I don't mean emotionally light.
Marx of course followed this up with the #1 smash "Hold Onto the Nights," a ballad (part of his 'Nights' series) that would not be out of place on a Bjork record, and then in 1989, his biggest hit "Right Here Waiting" a great great ballad that Elton John sometimes performs live. THese songs to me, with all due respect, seem a bit toothless, though. A bit watery. "Endless Summer Nights" to me, will always be the bridge, that a hyper-defiant Richard Marx crossed a bridge to a more serene place.
Some critics have found Richard's longing gaze at the male pool players homoerotic, but I think it just helps as a device to kick off his dream sequence... HELLO????!!!!!!! Sheesh.
THey also have asked why the hell a Killian's Red sign gets so much mileage in the video. And I think that all goes back to Richard's attitude. He was drinking red beer when no one else would take a chance on it. Trendsetter. Rebel. Etc.
One bonus that summer was that the reedy tenor of one Richard Marx would often liltingly make its way through the P.A., as the "Y" chose to entertain its patrons and workers with the Top 40 fare of the day.
Initially, Marx was presented to listeners as kind of a cocky, brash, cheeky, bite-the-hand-that-feeds-you sort of guy, with "Don't Mean Nothing," a song about his disgust with the entertainment industry--certainly as incendiary as anything off the Clash's Sandinista, or P.i.L.'s catalog, and moreso than its other fellow debut that year, Public Enemy's Yo! Bum Rush the Show. "Don't Mean Nothing" reached #3 on the charts, resonating with masses in America who were clearly fuming in the wake of Iran/Contra. Richard, using Hollywood as a clever metaphor for government corruptness, had hit one out of the ballpark in his first-at-bat.
I was in high school, (okay, so full time gym janitorial was still more a dream than anything else) and as was the tradition of the time, I still slept in my parents' bed, and they would not tune their clock radio to any station that would play Richard Marx, so my only opportunities to hear the song were when I ventured out to grocery stores, or hung out at the mall. His second single, a bitter love song called "Shoulda Known Better," was a driving, pulsating rock tune that even though they only heard it in snippets, did very little to assuage their fears about the powder keg that was Richard Marx. (You may remember a sucky ass song by the Beatles called "I Shoulda Known Better" which if retroactive-plagiarism was possible for something that came out before the thing it actually plagiarized, I'd have to wag my finger and say GUILTY!!!!)
And Richard's anger this time was aimed at a woman! And Richard, through a very catchy, yet bombastic hit, chastized himself for not "know[ing] better." Back at school, walking through the parking lot, I'd hear bits and pieces of this song coming out of nearly every car. My peers often played it during lovers' quarrels, or sitting alone, in the wake of a spat, they let RIchard articulate the feeings that were far too painful to put into words themselves.
Yet questions remained. Was Richard Marx anything other than just a talented guy who stirred the pot, so to speak? Or could he roll with the punches, improvise, and master other emotions that his listeners surely felt? Well, that was answered with this song, the third single from his self-titled debut. "Endless Summer Nights," it was called, and its another "regretter" but at a much slower, even Calypso-infused pace. And its theme, Bye-Bye Summer, and Bye-Bye Love, was something that everyone could embrace. The video itself is something that Fellini or even David Lynch would be jealous of... And here it is! Some critics call it "Lesser Marx" but I say it was a welcome relief from the cynical blast of his first two chart-toppers. I say "Marx Light" and I don't mean emotionally light.
Marx of course followed this up with the #1 smash "Hold Onto the Nights," a ballad (part of his 'Nights' series) that would not be out of place on a Bjork record, and then in 1989, his biggest hit "Right Here Waiting" a great great ballad that Elton John sometimes performs live. THese songs to me, with all due respect, seem a bit toothless, though. A bit watery. "Endless Summer Nights" to me, will always be the bridge, that a hyper-defiant Richard Marx crossed a bridge to a more serene place.
Some critics have found Richard's longing gaze at the male pool players homoerotic, but I think it just helps as a device to kick off his dream sequence... HELLO????!!!!!!! Sheesh.
THey also have asked why the hell a Killian's Red sign gets so much mileage in the video. And I think that all goes back to Richard's attitude. He was drinking red beer when no one else would take a chance on it. Trendsetter. Rebel. Etc.
