While the three months prior to Christmas gave birth to the worst playlist ever amalgamated (really, how many Christian Aguilera Christmas songs does one suburban shopping mall need), January has sprung forth with all eighties...all the time.
Non-stop eighties could be something incredibly horrible. It could be a non-stop John Cougar Mellancamp and Journey thrill-ride. It isn't, though, and that's the most exciting part about it. I never thought that I would be the kind of person that would analyze what was being played in the mall for the thirty-five seconds it takes me to get from the mall entrance to the candle shop, but here we are.
Not only have I heard Thomas Dolby, A Flock of Seagulls, and this beauty from Dale Bozzio and her pals...
but I've also heard Echo and the Bunnymen more than once. Now, I know that I've written previously about how boring it is to hear about how people liked a band before they were mainstream, but I can't help but wonder what the hell Echo and the Bunnymen are doing in the mall at this stage in their career. They've got some serious street cred! Every Goth Kid, Hipster, Aging Goth Kid, Aging Hipster, and up and coming angst-wrought teen has listened to at least one song and connected to the writing and the tone that this band as created. Dustin and I even share a song. It's one of the 4.5 million songs that we identify with our relationship.
I can't imagine that when the band was writing "Ocean Rain," they envisioned what it would be like to listen to this while shopping for underpants and Very Bradley handbags.
Maybe tomorrow, on my way to work, the mall will be a flutter with Bauhaus, Joy Division, and Depeche Mode. I'm sure that that will be blend nicely with the Dog Bark-ery and the mall walkers.