Back in 1989, when Cameron Crowe rounded up John Cusack, Ione Skye, and John Mahoney and produced one of the greatest teen romances of all time (duh, of course we’re talking about “Say Anything…”), he also found time to compose a rather memorable soundtrack as well. The film’s money shot, of course, belonged to Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes,” but songs from The Red Hot Chili Peppers and The Replacements were used to great effect as well. Hiding way, way at the end of the soundtrack album, however, was a song that I fell in love with about as hard and fast as anything I’d heard in awhile: “Keeping the Dream Alive,” by Freiheit…or, as they’re more commonly known in their native Germany, Münchener Freiheit.

I didn’t know the first thing about Freiheit when I discovered “Keeping the Dream Alive,” but, damn, that song was such a gorgeous, sweeping ballad of ELO-sized proportions that I immediately knew that I’d have to seek out more of their material. As it happens, there wasn’t anything else to seek out…well, not in the U.S., anyway. Not long after, however, the band’s debut American release, Fantasy, found its way onto shelves and, almost immediately thereafter, into my collection. To this day, I’m still surprised that it never scored much in the way of success; it’s a highly enjoyable pop album that owes as much to Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus as it does Jeff Lynne. The only real explanation I’ve ever come up with is that it’s a bit heavier on synths and electronic drum beats than the kids were listening to at the time, but it still features heavily in my regular playlist even in 2007.

Unfortunately, Fantasy remains out of print in the U.S., and since that was the only Stateside release of the band’s career, Freiheit’s profile remains woefully low on our shores. Even the usually helpful All Music Guide gives them short shrift, with the bio in their entry simply reading, “This German band (orig. Munchener Freiheit) played power-pop music from 1982 to 1988.” That’s it. Talk about your inglorious retrospectives!

If you’re curious about the band, there are several import best-of collections available via Amazon, but you should be prepared to find them almost completely free of English-sung material. If you don’t speak German as fluently as the members of Freiheit, however, here’s a song from Fantasy that you might appreciate a bit more:

Freiheit – Tears Are A Girl’s Best Friend

The Cure is one of those groups that seems to split its own fans right down the middle. Do you like the melancholy and gloomy side of Robert Smith’s creativity, or are you one of the listeners who enjoys his more accessible and pop-friendly work? Sometimes you can certainly like both, but there are definitely those fans who are deeply into albums like Pornography and Bloodflowers, two major works by the band that can often be impenetrable at times. As for this writer, I have to admit I’ve always enjoyed the poppier side of the Cure. Not that this collection of the band’s deep cuts won’t include some of the darker shades Smith has offered to his legions, but overall I’m one of those people that enjoys the Cure more when it isn’t all about the despair. Of course, I’m also 34 and don’t have that young angst to wade through anymore. Still, Robert Smith is older than that, and he can’t seem to give up the ghost at all. Ah well, here are the Cure’s deep cuts for your speculation. Note that I’ve avoided the density of the Join the Dots box set — as that’s one massive Deep Cuts collection in itself — and have just mainly stuck to the original albums, a couple singles and an EP.

“Plastic Passion” – Boys Don’t Cry
We’re working with the US debut album here, because frankly it’s better than Three Imaginary Boys. It was refitted with both A and B single sides and chopped out other stuff that dragged down the UK debut. “Plastic Passion” finds the Cure sounding positively New Wave unlike they ever had before or since. For that reason alone, you should enjoy this song. It also appears on the Join the Dots box set if you want to pay premium for it.

See the rest of the Cure’s Deep Cuts here.

They doth call him the Pope of Mope, and it’s a title he’s earned a hundred times over…and then some. Whilst fronting the Smiths in the mid-1980s, Morrissey quickly became known as the poster child for all those lonely teenagers who craved love and acceptance but were finding it hard to come by, and when the Manchester four-piece broke up in 1987, the majority of those morose music fans followed Mozzer to his solo career, where he further trumpeted his woe-is-me mentality. (C’mon, now: it’s such a hallmark of his work that even he makes fun of it sometimes!) Morrissey’s recording career has spanned almost 25 years, and although he’s been a staple of the UK charts – and of US college radio – for the majority of that time, there are plenty of his songs, both solo and with the Smiths, that can be readily classified as Deep Cuts.

A few samples…

“Work is a Four Letter Word,” The Smiths – Just Say Yes: Sire’s Winter CD Music Sampler

Does anyone else remember these great compilations that Sire Records used to release? They were awesome, particularly this first volume, which is as good a one-stop lesson on modern rock circa 1987 as you’re likely to find. In addition to tracks by Depeche Mode, Echo & the Bunnymen, the Ramones, and the Replacements, you’ll find the Smiths covering Cilla Black. Johnny Marr declared the recording of the song to be “the last straw” — and given that it was recorded during what would prove to be the Smiths’ final session, that’s apparently exactly what it was.

“Get Off the Stage,” Morrissey – Piccadilly Palare single

While it’s not exactly the albatross about Morrissey’s neck that the line “hope I die before I get old” is for the Who, you can understand why this goofy but fun diatribe aimed at aging rockers with limited musical palates isn’t pulled out more often. It’s a little risky for a man which such a recognizable sound to be crooning, “And the song that you just sang / It sounds exactly like the last one / And the next one / I bet you it will sound / Like this one.”

“Sorrow Will Come in the End,” Morrissey – Maladjusted

Yikes, dude! Bitter much? Essentially a spoken word piece, with Mozzer launching into a tirade against the results of a royalties battle with his former Smiths bandmate, Mike Joyce. “A man who slits throats has time on his hands,” sneers Moz, “and I’m gonna get you!” It’s so over the top that it’s a laugh — but not as funny as Joyce’s scoffing response to the lyrical threatening: “If Lemmy had written it, I might be concerned.” Ouch!

Check out the whole piece here, then stop back by and offer your opinions and / or alternate suggestions for the list!

No one asked for it, but here it is, anyway: a new feature on ESDMusic which, hopefully, will become a regular reason for you to visit the site…provided, of course, that we can come up with enough material to maintain it. But, frankly, when you hear the premise, I think you’ll agree that with all of the music geeks we’ve got around here, that shouldn’t be an issue…

Borrowing on the same general concept as Bullz-Eye’s Mix Disc Monday, Flashback Friday will allow our writers to venture into the depths of their possibly-embarrassing personal histories by pulling out old mix tapes and writing about them. In theory, this should reveal a lot about where we were musically at the time we made the tapes; in reality, however, it may just indicate how limited our budget was at the time…or, at least, that’s what this tape of mine shows.

That’s right, as the person who came up with this idea, it’s only fair that I get the ball rolling, and lemme tell ya: I was attending Averett College in Danville, VA (go, Cougars!), and it was a real rarity for me to buy anything that wasn’t on its second or third markdown in the cut-out bin…and, believe me, you can tell.

Title: Greetings from Averett, Vol. 2
Date of creation: late March 1991 (approximate)

Side 1:

“Main Title / Rebel Blockade Runner,” John Williams and the London Symphony Orchestra (Star Wars: The Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)

I’ve always been of the mind that every mix needs to start off with something witty, clever, funny, or just, y’know, something memorable. Given that this was 1991 and we were on what would turn out to be a 16-year drought between new “Star Wars” films, beginning the tape with the familiar main titles from the original flick – now known as “Star Wars: A New Hope” – certainly qualified. Unfortunately, the title theme segues directly into another track, ”Rebel Blockade Runner,” and as a result, the whole thing ends up going on longer than most normal people would ever maintain interest. I mean, I love that soundtrack, and even *I* started to get bored. By the way, while I’ve attributed this to the actual “Star Wars” soundtrack, given my budget, I have to believe that this was much more likely taken from an el-cheapo recording done by, say, the Generic Philharmonic Orchestra…which means it’s almost certainly not John Williams conducting but, probably, his non-union Mexican equivalent. (Juan Williams?)

“Losing My Religion,” R.E.M. (Out of Time)

This is the track on Side 1 which most definitively dates the tape for me. As noted, I was a man with limited funds, and most of my purchases were CDs and cassettes that I’d rescued from the cut-out bin at the record chain in the local mall, but I sucked it up and bought Out of Time on its first day of release. I still remember writing a review for the Averett College newspaper, The Chanticleer, and declaring that this song’s lyrics sounded like a parody of the band’s style. (“I think I thought I saw you try” is the one that leaps immediately to mind.) I must’ve made this tape within a day or two of the album’s release and only known this song; otherwise, I almost certainly would’ve put “Texarkana,” “Near Wild Heaven,” or “Shiny Happy People” on here instead.

“This Is the World Calling,” Bob Geldof (Deep in the Heart of Nowhere)

Wow, did this album get reamed when it was first released. I’m sure Bob didn’t expect much else, though; after you’ve been held up as the pop star who fed the world, you ought to know that the press is going to tear your next LP a new center hole. Yeah, that’s right, Geldof’s fallible. So what? And, anyway, Deep in the Heart of Nowhere wasn’t nearly as bad as everyone said; it just wasn’t as good as, say, your average Boomtown Rats album. I still say the first half of the album is pretty damned good, and this song, which leads off the record, is definitely a highlight.

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Inspired by the ever-interesting Jefitoblog, which has been offering up a lot of love to Squeeze lately (including the first half of his Idiot’s Guide to the band as well as some hard-to-find live MP3s), I thought I’d similarly pay tribute to one of my favorite songs by the band, taken from one of their criminally overlooked albums.

Frank was released in 1989 to a fair amount of critical acclaim, but precious little of that translated into sales for the band. After staging an unexpected commercial comeback with 1987’s Babylon and On, an album which produced two top-40 hits for the band (“Hourglass” and “853-5937”), it was actually rather shocking that Frank didn’t sell very well, but my theory has always been that the band’s label – A&M – had decided to ignore top-40 radio for the album and instead focus on Billboard’s latest and greatest chart: Modern Rock. It made a certain amount of sense, given that Squeeze had always been more college-radio darlings than a full-fledged mainstream success, but, still, to go from having 2 top-40 hits to being dropped by your label altogether within the span of two years…? Somebody screwed up somewhere, and it certainly wasn’t Squeeze.

There are, unfortunately, a lot of great tracks to pick from when it comes to spotlighting the unheralded numbers from Frank, including the Jools Holland piano stomper, “Dr. Jazz,” and Glenn Tilbrook’s ode to a woman’s time of the month (“She Doesn’t Have To Shave”), but my favorite has always been “Love Circles,” which offers Chris Difford the vocal spotlight yet still provides some downright fantabulous harmonies for the chorus. It was released as a single, but it did precisely diddley…but, thanks to the aforementioned Jefitoblog, you can check out the song here.