50. Liquid Pink, Liquid Pink

That cities that proved to be fertile group for college rock bands throughout the eighties often had characteristic sounds, whether the working class rock ‘n’ roll tinged with punk that marked the likes of The Replacements, Soul Asylum and Husker Du all as part of the Minneapolis scene, or the jangle-rock that that immediately identified a band as springing from the same sonic landscape in Athens, Georgia that birthed R.E.M. In the rare instances when Wisconsin was discussed, the assumption was that the sort of earthy, heartland rock played by Fire Town and E*I*E*I*O was representative of the entire state. That may have be adequate for much of the musical terrain, but it ignored the presence of a more industrial area down by the cuff of the mitten that is the state map, and that city tended toward a little more bruising brand of guitar-driven tunefulness. Few bands made better use of the advanced volume settings on their amps than Liquid Pink, a group featuring Rob McCuen from the similarly propulsive Milwaukee band Plasticland. The self-titled debut from Liquid Pink was full of fiery, feverish songs seemingly meant to peel the paint off the walls of the dank, snowbound bars. At the very least, it’ll make those walls cleaner than the bottle of pink dish soap that inspired the band’s name.

49. Eurythmics, We Too Are One

Eurythmics released their eighth album in 1989, an collection of archly intelligent pop songs entitled We Too Are One. Since Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart first started collaborating together at the very beginning of the eighties, and experienced all sorts of creative and commercial ups and downs during the decade, the release naturally inspired plenty of introspection about the band’s development. As Lennox put it when asked about the record, “It feels it like we’ve grown up. It has all the elements of our adventures into more left field abstraction. At the same time, it’s accessible. So it has all the Eurythmics threads, all the texture rolled into one identity.” The album certainly has the feel of a valedictory celebration, a sort of summation of everything that defined the group over the years, whether in the cheekily ironic self-aggrandizement of “King and Queen of America” or even the atypical turn on vocals that Stewart takes on “(My My) Baby’s Gonna Cry.” The consistent message of the album is a more pronounced version of the title’s declaration of unity and identity.
And if this is who they say they are, who are we to disagree?

Previously…
— Introduction
— 90 and 89
— 88 and 87
— 86 and 85
— 84 and 83
— 82 and 81
— 80 and 79
— 78 and 77
— 76 and 75
— 74 and 73
— 72 and 71
— 70 and 69
— 68 and 67
— 66 and 65
— 64 and 63
— 62 and 61
— 60 and 59
— 58 and 57
— 56 and 55
— 54 and 53
— 52 and 51