The WTF Files: Volume #2 – And I’m not so sure just where I stand

Celebrity status doesn’t just enable one to get an easy pass for making anti-Semitic remarks while being stopped for driving while intoxicated, or a slap on the wrist for killing a child crossing the street while attempting to illegally pass on the left. It can also mean a record deal, quaint notions about so-called “musical talent” notwithstanding. (It’s an obsolete concept anyhow. The pop music production combines in Stockholm and London run 24-7 these days, turning sows’ ears into…sows’ ears with heavy overdubbing and pitch-shifted vocals.)

Most of these misguided attempts to cash in on reps made elsewhere crash and burn, often finding new life decades later as prized camp collectibles. The TV and movie stars-turned-troubadours featured in today’s post, however, all met with chart success, if only for a brief shining moment. Not included are teen idols of the Shaun Cassidy and Leif Garrett variety, as their musical careers were part of the total media saturation plans organized by their handlers. Rick Springfield isn’t included because his musical career predated his General Hospital stint by over a decade, and he even had a minor hit “Speak to the Sky” in the early 70’s.

David Soul – Don’t Give Up on Us (from Playing to an Audience of One, 1977) – Who knew Hutch invented emo? Now, Antonio Fargas Sings Cole Porter – that would be worth listening to. (Yes, Soul was a moderately successful folksinger before he landed the Starsky and Hutch gig, but this track isn’t folk, and it rode on the back of his TV stardom.)

John Schneider – It’s Now or Never (from Now or Never, 1981) – Bo (Duke) knows overproduced country music corn.

It’s really hard to explain to someone who didn’t live through the era just how huge the Dukes of Hazzard was to impressionable grade-schoolers in the late 1970’s. It meant making the “Dixie” horn noise when we jumped our banana seat Huffy bikes over the dirt mound by the railroad tracks. It meant slathering a layer of sticky, stinky Testor’s orange enamel paint over our favorite Hot Wheels cars. It meant being too young to notice we were watching utter, utter shit.

Jack Wagner – All I Need (from All I Need, 1984) – Rick Springfield set a really bad precedent for General Hospital hunks, although Wagner’s effort pales in comparison to the horrors of Stamos unleashed.

I admit I have a slight fondness for this song. It reminds me of junior high dances I attended where I’d lean against the cafeteria wall watching various puppy love affairs play out on the dance floor as the DJ cued up some cheesy prefab love song. Depressed and lonely, I’d sulk in the shadows and wonder if I’d ever find a girl that understood me, or whether or not the Fantastic Four would manage to defeat Psycho Man.

I take it back. I hate this fucking song.

Eddie Murphy – Party All the Time (from How Could It Be, 1985) –The album title says it all.

Don Johnson – Heartbeat (from Heartbeat, 1986) – From an Amazon.com user review for this album:

I always keep hearing people badmouth this album and I am sick and tired of it. This is not a bad album! If anything this sure as hell is better than any of today's music...and by that I mean anything made in the last 16 years.

Since the album was released in 1986, and the review was written a month ago, I wonder what 1990 song/album marked the reviewer’s cutoff point for good music. I’m going to make a guess and say Jane Child’s “Don’t Wanna Fall In Love.”

David Hasselhoff – Looking for Freedom (from Looking for Freedom, 1989) – Yadda yadda yadda ironic hipster affection for mediocre faded celebrity yadda yadda yadda the Chuck Norris thing was bad enough yadda yadda yadda just stop it, please.