_The Good Humor Man_ by Andrew Fox has an eye-catching cover and a great idea, but somewhere between idea and execution of said idea, things go terribly wrong...the dialogue is awkward, stereotypes abound and the whole thing reads rather stiff...but the IDEA behind it is very intriguing and also very scary...

In the future what IF it WERE illegal to eat fatty foods and anorexia were glorified the way chastity is among the abstinence crowd?

As someone who struggles with guilt whenever I eat something junky and who often longs to be lighter, I wonder sometimes (and only sometimes): WOULD we be better off living in a society that decided it was about time to start imposing fines and jail time for eating crap that in turn makes us crappy? WOULD it be easier to lose weight if there were some kind of punishment involved for NOT losing it?

I find the idea of being denied the very thing I want oddly appealing...

my absolute Favorite H&O album ever and my favorite overall from 1988...This is a review from Rolling Stone magazine back when the cd was first released!:)

So Daryl Hall and John Oates went out and got themselves a brand-new band and a brand-new record label. And guess what? They sound like the same old Daryl Hall and John Oates.

And that's not necessarily a bad thing. This is their first album in almost four years, and to hear it is to remember the desperately needed shot of soul they provided in the early Eighties, when black acts had a hard time getting on the radio. But by the time of Big Bam Boom, in 1984, their hits had become so ubiquitous that their sound had been glossed over to the point of embalmment.

Now they reunite with a refreshed attitude, if not a new context. Hall's voice regains the vigor that deserted him on later hits like "Out of Touch" and "Method of Modern Love." On Ooh Yeah!, Hall charges up "I'm in Pieces" – yet another doo-wop salute – and plunges into "Rockability" with the confidence of a man whose faith has been reaffirmed. And though there's a preponderance of slow love songs, they never sag: by stripping away a layer or two of the old polish, Hall finds a warmth that could melt the coldest drum machine.

Equally essential are Oates's confectionery harmonies. He tends to be overlooked, as Hall gets most of the lead vocals and writes most of the songs, but Oates is no Andrew Ridgeley. In fact most of Hall and Oates's best moments revolve around Oates's backup, not Hall's lead. When Oates does get a lead, he slides into it with a low, agitated breathiness, the change-up to Hall's high heater.

Oates even cops a sly, Lou Reed-like delivery on "Keep On Pushing Love," which is ironic, since Reed turns up in the lyrics to "Downtown Life," the victim of a cheap shot from Hall: "Velvet Lou was a neighbor of mine/Now he walks a dog in Jersey, Brother." This is especially unfortunate, because "Downtown Life" has got the kind of hooks that instantly implant themselves in your consciousness and then last through a season or two of heavy rotation. And in the end it's hard not to feel a little sorry for Hall anyway: he's trying to hold on to the culture and environment that he loves, and yet you still get the feeling it's all slipping away from him.

Hall turns off the nastiness on the rest of the album, and both he and Oates show that they have grown up a little. "Everything Your Heart Desires" is more of a plea than an indictment – no "Maneater" misogyny here. And in "Keep On Pushing Love," Oates writes about how a "homeless man on a frozen stoop ... gets the walk-on-by from the business suit." So at least they are up-to-date, if not ahead of the times.

Black music by black artists has come back in a big way since Hall and Oates have been gone, but that doesn't mean there's not room for them anymore. After all, the Rascals and the Righteous Brothers peacefully coexisted with Otis Redding and Wilson Pickett; there's no reason Hall and Oates can't continue to thrive during the heyday of Prince and Terence Trent D'Arby. (RS 529)

ROB HOERBURGER




(Posted: Jun 30, 1988)


News and Reviews




Track List



* Downtown Life
* Everything Your Heart Desires
* I'm In Pieces
* Missed Opportunity
* Talking All Night
* Rockability
* Rocket To God
* Soul Love
* ReaLove
* Keep On Pushin' Love

Despite the film's outrageous clothes and bad perms that just scream 1980, "The Last Married Couple in America" is surprisingly relevant in the 21st century. Married couples are STILL breaking up at alarming rates twenty five years later. The only difference is no one's shocked anymore...which would make Mari and Jeff Thompson's dismay a bit outdated to our modern eyes, though no less heartfelt.

In our current culture that demonizes any kind of misconceived "threat" (gay marriage, feminism, happily single men and women, whatever victim you want to choose) to traditional marriage, it's nice to see that at one time people actually worried about fixing their own affairs rather than blaming others!!

I'm a bit biased because I'm a huge Natalie Wood fan and love her later work ("The Cracker Factory," "The Affair," even the remake of "From Here to Eternity") but I have to say I enjoyed this film, warts and all. It seems that almost every film made in the late 70s and early 80s featured oddly dressed characters dancing to new wave/disco (think "Xanadu"). Don't let the occasional fashion faux pas divert your attention from the fact you could learn a lot about what makes a good marriage work!

George Segal's warm-hearted, goofy charm and Natalie Wood's wise, but innocent ways create an energy that help "The Last Married Couple in America" get through the rough spots.

...that awkward age...


(...these are just my very first impressions upon seeing "L.A."...I don't mean to offend anyone or come on too strong and also I hope this doesn't contain any spoilers for you...)


I just finished watching this incredibly hard-to-forget movie. I feel sad and disconnected and wondering. It's not that the acting wasn't great (it was) or that the underlying idea of the suffocation that comes with "playing it straight" didn't threaten to undo me with huge, racking sobs. The scenes with Simone and the boyfriend she didn't love broke my heart--what closet lesbian hasn't been in a relationship she never wanted in the first place?

What I had a problem with was the unlikely source material for romance and the potential double standard. I don't think many directors would do a film about a male teacher who fell in love with his 17-year-old student...certainly not one where it was seen as romantically painful and hopelessly inevitable. It's true that "Loving Annabelle" IS about more than sex and it's not at all sleazy (it's, in fact, powerfully touching at times) but I can't seem to get past the fact that Annabelle isn't an adult and the woman she's pursuing so zealously is old enough to know better than to eventually give in.

Though the way Simone looked at Annabelle is the way many people wish that special woman would look at them, I didn't find that the actresses had much chemistry. Individually they both are worthy of the affection they inspire in each other (the teacher is the strong, private, sensitive type who longs for true love but would never admit it and the student cares about her classmates and being true to herself no matter what the cost), but together...well, I didn't feel the kick I have in other love stories.

But that's just me. I mean I love "Xanadu" (the original film) so my taste in movies is up for debate:)...

I remember I was home from school sick in bed when my sister came in my room to tell me she'd just heard Andy Gibb had passed away. It was March 10, 1988. The news made me sad since I had really liked his music in the late 70s and adored his brothers, The Bee Gees. "I Just Want to Be Your Everything" was probably Andy's biggest hit and it had always put a smile on my face with its earnest sounds and declaration of love...the kind of innocence you don't get too much in today's music. For me, his death struck with the same kind of shock Karen Carpenter's had a few years prior.

Mid-1989 the Bee Gees released their underrated album "One," which contained a beautiful track called "Wish You Were Here." It was dedicated to their brother (whom they had hoped to bring into their fold as a singer before his unexpected death) and to this day is still one of the saddest songs I've ever heard. It's not limited to the grief of someone's passing, but the loss of a relationship you know will never be revived again...