
Nineteen Valentines For The Brokenhearted
An ‘80s Playlist
by Steve Stav
I once jotted down, for Ink 19, some Valentine’s Day music suggestions (“A Sonic Recipe For Love”), and 23 years later, I’m finally getting around to a sequel. This time, it’s a playlist for the unfortunate victims of another corporate-manipulated holiday — a confectioners’ bonanza, at best. And there could be many victims this year; the notion of a first Valentine’s Day of the second Trump era certainly rings sour.
Taking this all into account, I’m confining this new list (arranged in no particular order) to old songs, to songs of the ‘80s — a long-ago era that has nonetheless remained so close in our rearview mirror. More specifically, I’ve recalled jewels of the “alternative music” genre, for no one knew heartbreak, rejection, isolation, and flat-out misery like despondent Goths, college-radio introverts, and New Wave outcasts. We eagerly gobbled this music up from our Walkmans like sugar from Pez dispensers. We thrived on this stuff for years, so perhaps it will help all of the afflicted survive just one day — and one night.
Drink poured? Tissues at the ready? Lights dimmed? Does anyone still smoke? Here we go, return ticket in hand, into the abyss…
Listen along to our playlist, on Spotify.
• •

1. Depeche Mode: “The Things You Said”
Countless numbers of people have had some sort of sex whilst listening to this deceptively simple song of lies, betrayal, and sorrow… a typical experience for Generation X. Delivered by designated balladeer Martin Gore, this is one of Depeche Mode’s best and most sensual creations — and that’s certainly saying something.
• •

2. Pet Shop Boys: “What Have I Done To Deserve This?”
A true classic, a Generation X standard. Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe deserved a medal for ingeniously orchestrating another revival for the fabulous Dusty Springfield. However, the Boys would’ve refused such an honor, for the honor was all theirs; the song wouldn’t have been remotely the same without her.
“You always wanted me to be something I wasn’t / You always wanted too much / Now I can do what I want to, forever / How’m I gonna get through?”
• •

3. Magazine: “You Never Knew Me”
That the world has not heard nearly enough from the eccentric genius of Howard Devoto over the past 45 years is one of my personal sorrows. What an inimitable, iconic vocal delivery… and what a quartet that was — a band of all-stars who should be much more recognized today. One of their finest offerings, with searingly profound lyrics. A tempestuous relationship’s parting salvo… or is it?
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry / I’m sorry I can’t be cancelled out like this / We had to kill too much / Before we could even kiss.”

4. Paul Young: “Come Back And Stay”
With its girl-group backing vocals and Young’s soulful pipes, “Come Back And Stay” could be — and was, at times — a sing-along dance number. The star of the show, however, is legendary bassist Pino Palladino; he fretlessly transforms a song of anguish into a supremely sensual plea.
• •

5. The Smiths: “Well I Wonder”
On side two of Meat Is Murder lies one of the Smiths’ most sublime masterpieces, propelled not by Johnny Marr’s guitar, but by bassist Andy Rourke’s skill with four strings.
“Gasping, dying – but somehow still alive / This is final stand of all I am.”
I’ve never stopped listening to The Smiths, and even I stop now and then to marvel how brazen the band’s mastery of the maudlin was. Morrissey and Marr worked with sadness, despair, loneliness, and fatalism as others might work with oils or clay… and the art was presented with such unrestrained honesty. Back in the ‘80s, this band’s music didn’t just speak our language; it knew our hearts and minds.
The Smiths were The Beatles of Generation X, then, in several ways. If this claim raises an eyebrow, savor this song — and then revisit Fab Four creations such as “No Reply” or “You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away.”
• •

6. The Jam “The Bitterest Pill”
Nestled between The Jam’s meat-and-potatoes bombast and the sleek stylings of the Modfather’s later work with The Style Council, “The Bitterest Pill” could’ve been a mid-‘60s, blue-eyed soul classic. Weller sells it all so genuinely, despite his youth. Pinning one’s hopes and dreams on the wrong one is a bitter lesson, indeed.
• •

7. Ministry: “I Wanted To Tell Her”
Apparently no one told Al Jourgensen, back in 1983, that disco was dead. Thank god for that; this supremely funky duet (that bass!) – a master class in the mechanics of infidelity – proved to be a club classic. Strip away the fantastic synthesizers, and “I Wanted To Tell Her” could’ve been performed on Soul Train.
Al disavowed this record for years; we didn’t need his later semi-recantation to know that With Sympathy is one of New Wave’s most iconic albums.
• •

8. 10,000 Maniacs: “The Painted Desert”
Storyteller Natalie Merchant sings of being temporarily separated by a lover, by circumstance. She finally receives a “Dear Jane” letter that suggests that he couldn’t keep it in his pants long enough for the planned reunion that she’d been pining for.
• •

9. Soft Cell: “Heat”
Love and murder are known to cross paths, now and then; Marc Almond explores this familiarity with a tale of late-night musings over the body of an abusive lover. Or, at least I think he’s dead; perhaps he’s merely incapacitated by intoxicants. In any case, Soft Cell’s penchant for lurid sensuality oozes out of this song like a slow bloodletting… by its conclusion, the listener will be too entranced to care if the crime was justified or not.
• •

10. The Police: “The Bed’s Too Big Without You”
I’m cheating a bit here, for the Regatta De Blanc album was released in late 1979, but few heard this oft-overlooked gem until 1980, so…
The song’s relatable title says more than enough, but Sting, Summers and Copeland seal the deal with punctuating bass, jazzy riffs and staccato drums. So sparsely brilliant; a decent trio could busk this one on sidewalk tomorrow and garner a hatful of coin from tearful passersby.
• •

11. The Cure: “The Kiss”
Almost four minutes’ worth of intense guitar foreplay pass before Robert Smith’s painful and very vocal orgasm. What a song. What an experience. There may be metaphors at play here; this classic may not really be about a possible addiction to mental and emotional torture at the hands of a flesh-and-blood lover. But for almost forty years I’ve taken “The Kiss” at face value – and there’s no sense in stopping now.
• •

12. Chris Isaak: “You Owe Me Some Kind of Love”
“You owe me some kind of love.” Most men could not get away with a claim like that, but then again Chris Isaak isn’t “most men.” This is late-night sexual hypnosis at it’s most potent; years before “Wicked Game,” the late James Calvin Wilsey’s shimmering guitar was more effective than the pendulum-swing of a pocket watch.
• •

13. Talk Talk: “The Party’s Over”
“This crime of being uncertain of your love / Is all I’m guilty of.” I’ve never been quite sure of what this heart-penetrating song is about, but it’s definitely not a tale of happiness. Years before Mark Hollis’ renowned forays into ambient restraint, Talk Talk created lush walls of sound around its frontman’s unique, plaintive voice. This is the mind-blowing title track of the band’s 1982 debut: atmospheric anguish non pareil.
• •

14. XTC: “That’s Really Super, Supergirl”
Another songwriting exercise in XTC’s gymnasium of genius, the lyrics to “Supergirl” have prompted laughter, commiseration, probably even tears in the near-40 years since Skylarking. This song is so precious, I almost feel as if I’m betraying it by offering a free sample:
“And I feel like you’re trying hard to sweep me like dirt underneath your cape / Well, I might be an ape – but I used to feel super, Supergirl.”
• •

15. The Fixx: “Secret Separation”
The lyrics to this gem – almost forgotten, now – are vague enough to provide numerous interpretations. The one doubtless, underlying truth is that the song’s principals share a bond that many people can only dream of; the prospect of parting, then, is exquisitely painful. Guitarist Jamie West-Oram chords gently dilute it all down to profound sadness.
“I’ll bear one precious scar that only you will know again.”
• •

16. Bronski Beat: “Why?”
I have a really loud stereo in my living room, but this dance classic is one reason why I wish it was even louder. The sight of me blissfully shimmying around the couch, comically attempting to reach the falsetto of “you and me together, fighting for our love” would be YouTube gold… thankfully, I have the sense to do that when no one else is home.
Immersed in its sonic glory, many listeners over the last forty years have not realized — or have chosen to forget — that this song is about a man being beaten for being openly gay. About the basis for such violent prejudice. About the denial of love. Why, indeed.
Not the first time that anguish has been mistaken for joy in a song — and certainly not the first time that lyrics containing taboo subjects have been disguised with an upbeat tempo and sold to the masses. BB’s outrageously talented frontman, Jimmy Somerville, knew that he couldn’t wrap this question up in a slow ballad, anyway. Too painful. “Why?” flew right under the noses of so many in the Reagan years, and soared into an eternal orbit. The term “none the wiser” is unfortunately ironic, here.
Bronski Beat were so far ahead of their time, their time hasn’t yet arrived. Not quite.
• •

17. The Blue Nile: “Let’s Go Out Tonight”
Frontman Paul Buchanan didn’t need to write epic tales in order to convey emotion, to make a point. All he had to do was open his mouth in front of a microphone here, and wistful, gutwrenching sadness spilled out. Toss in a glacial tempo and a sonic atmosphere that seems conjured rather than created, and the result is the tearjerker on one of the most memorable albums of the decade. We’ve all been there; things have been going wrong for too long, and we can’t put a finger on why or how to fix them. Honey, get your coat.
“Baby, baby… let’s go out tonight.”
• •

18. The Lover Speaks: “No More I Love You’s”
If you love the amazing 1995 cover, you might be initially disconcerted by hearing a man sing the original version. But frontman David Freeman’s deep, rich voice, surrounded by a more muscular arrangement, made for an incredibly grand and compelling heartbreaker. Veteran studio musician June Miles-Kingston’s beautiful backing vocals were featured so prominently, it’s almost a duet… and “No More I Love You’s” should have been a massive hit. The Eurythmics’ Dave Stewart, a key figure in The Lover Speaks’ formative era, realized this, and nine years later it became one — for Annie Lennox.
• •

19. Joy Division: “Love Will Tear Us Apart”
Of course, the inclusion of this one — arguably Gen X’s anthem — was inevitable on such a list as this. Nothing to say about this masterpiece that hasn’t been said before, other than to mention that this standard’s ever-growing popularity is acknowledgement of Generation X’s legacy… a legacy of willful collision and coexistence with sadness, a romanticizing of darkness. “Bring it on,” we said. “We can take it. We’ll learn to love it.” And boy, did we.
Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone. ◼