Colors- Pay Me Back My Love (1986)

It's inevitable: when a relationship ends, somebody has to get the short end of the stick. It's common to feel as if someone "owes" you for inflicting long-term emotional damages. However, it is near to impossible to pay someone back in love, and very tough to assign a monetary value to the end of a long-term partnership (just ask your average divorce lawyer!).
To properly handle the situation, the dumper should be forced to buy several therapy sessions, as well as a month's worth of Ativan, to the dumpee on the eve of the breakup. It is my understanding that all further grievances should be rectified using the "ass, grass, or gas" payment structure.

Timex Social Club- Rumors (1986) & Club Nouveau- Jealousy (1986)

Are my ears correct? Did Club Nouveau really write a diss song about Timex Social Club? This is not South Central LA in the early 90's... What did you guys have to fight about?
Was somebody bogarting the Soul-Glo? Did someone play the whole "shake a can of soda and hand it to your thirsty friend" joke? Did someone make fun of your Coogi sweater?
Come on, fellas... We're all fruity 80's R&B one-hit-wonders here, can't we all just get along?

Magic Eye- Don't Panic (1988)

Don't panic? Don't panic?
Uhhh... Directly across the ocean from us, a country, arguably the most industrious and technologically advanced in the world, just collapsed into itself, and is brewing several massive nuclear meltdowns at this very moment. How long until Godzilla gets involved in all of this?
I currently reserve the right to be a little unnerved.
Pffft. Don't panic.

Princess- Say I'm Your Number One (1985)

Princess uses this video as a means to send a giant "fuck you" to those of us that think that crop-tops and old-timey bowler hats should never mix, and throws on a pair of wacky earrings to really drive the point home. Number one, alright.

Leon Bryant - I'm Going To Put A Spell On You (1984)

If I was given the rare opportunity to learn a magical spell, I think I would choose one that makes people shut their damn mouths.

Jakki- Got Me Burnin Up (1982)

Nothing sadder than a saggy cartoon Latino ice cream salesman that appears to be having a bad day... Stay in school, kids.
(Or at least try to smile when you hand me my popsicle, okay? You're bumming me out over here.)

The Bar Kays- Trippin' Out (1982)

I strongly feel that, at a very early age, children should be forced to make a very difficult decision: the ability to invent and create, or the ability to take psychedelics. Not both.
I'm sure I could've lived through Jefferson Airplane and hippie paintings. I could hang with Rainbow Bright, and Fruity Marshmallow Krispies were a colorful way to start my day. I could even handle motherfucking Zubaz pants in small doses, but then came hackey sacks and now there's assholes with ponytails flipping around some acid head's dream of a "magic ball" around his arms like it's no big thing (I saw it on an infomercial!).
Enough is enough. Before it goes too far. Please, people.
One or the other.

Hotline- Ready or Not (1984)

I will tell you: we, as a society, have come so far technologically that it's almost cute to think of people using desktop calculators or dialing a hotline for their pornography needs.

Kenny Smith- Witness (1980)

After a particularly bad cold and flu season a few years ago, wherein I had watched The Sopranos series in it's entirety, I swear I will never, ever say a damn thing if I witness a crime...
Can't write sassytunes from the bottom of the Bow River with an ice pick through my skull.
No siree.

Yarbrough & Peoples- Don't Stop The Music (1980)

There's always this point in the night- somewhere between 2:15 and 3:00, depending on where you go- where the music starts to get really amazing again, and the legal drinks stop flowing and the strange free-handout drinks appear in your palm (usually import beer from one of the "sketchy countries"), and you stay on the dance floor in fear of the last few notes playing over the speakers. Then the lights come up and there's puke and blood on the floor, a bunch of broken glass, the air reeks of cheap tequila and red bull, and your blistered feet stick on the ground as you walk. This is a feeling universally known as "time to go home".