I'll pretend my ship's not sinking

I didn't know the bright plastic soul-y sound out of mid-80s to early 90s was a genre until the almighty algorithm served it to me. (Do I classify that delivery/discovery as random also? Stay tuned to find out. I gotta think about that one.) 

Sophistipop was just a moment, but god, it was a delicious champagne punch that rose from the we-can't-play-and-we-don't-care, cynically jangly, darkly synthy, New Romantic-ruffled, and, reaching further back, blue-eyed soul ethos of 70s and 80s British pop. Maybe it emerged because the rich got richer and yuppies ran the joint in Thatcher's England, and they needed a soundtrack at their drinks parties.

Or, and this is what I think, they needed some purposely well-made and goddammit, happier music. Like we (I mean, me) do now. 

This is frankly a low-ranking sophistipop entry, but I'll take it all these days. All of it. I want to feel better, and this is the power suited, spandexed elixir to get me there.

***

God, I just realized that I posted their other Big Hit a week ago. I completely forgot.

That's how it goes when most of your week is spent in here. 

Coda: why in the hell am I also not gainfully employed by remaking music videos shot-for-shot? This is my calling.

You can almost hear time slipping away

No memory associated with this one, though in February of 85, it would have been a cool older brother of this song, less dissonant, though, and not as troubling since Arcadia signaled trouble in DD paradise. 

Also, you didn't hear me say this, but Peter Cox might just have a naturally "better" voice than Simon. Though GW certainly didn't nab a Grace Jones vocal bridge.

Maybe this is something I should scrutinize. Might as well, since I am all about rabbit, mouse, mole, and info-infinity holes these days at the expense of all else.