The 1980s were a time of overconfidence and excess, and nothing proves this better than the music produced during the decade known mostly for its cocaine and cereal mascots. The post-70’s pop music attitude took, a wonderful turn away from “imagine all the people living in harmony,” opting instead for unapologetic testimony that the hurricane was right there, in front of your fucking face and ready to rock you. Guys in makeup were intimidating, women wore studded wrist bracelets and M&M’s caused cancer. Everyone alive in the 80s was an alpha badass, even if oiled up during a saxophone solo on a beach full of sexy vampires… … with the exception of Eddie Money.
Born Edward Mahoney (this is not a joke), the ginger Casanova released no less than a hundred songs, all of which are incomplete in narrative, favoring instead the testimonial of a man who has been carrying an empty gas can on the highway of love since his self-titled debut album. Eddie Money’s entire catalogue is aural pornography for the indecisive, a detailed account of one man’s quest for a quest, searching until just enough time has passed to make the search worthwhile, and then quitting.
Eddie Money owes us resolution, or at least closure.
Taking a look at the man’s hit singles, it is painfully obvious that Eddie Money exists in a living purgatory. “Take Me Home Tonight,” “I Wanna Go Back,” “Baby Hold On,” “Think I’m in Love,” “Maybe I’m a Fool,” “No Control,” “We Should Be Sleeping” and “Let Me In” sound like more like texts from a histrionic ex-girlfriend (or apathetic hipster boyfriend) than they do neon yayo anthems that somehow found rotation alongside “Burn in Hell” and “Hit Me With Your Best Shot.”
Even when you try to ignore his attention-seeking pleas for direction, Eddie Money just responds with “Gimme Some Water.” It’s as if he is on your porch, smoking a cigarette while you tell yourself you promised you wouldn’t take him back until he got his shit together.
Further, it may be plausible that Ed is just insatiable.
He had “Two Tickets to Paradise” almost immediately before “The Big Crash.” Whatever horrifying thing went down during that trip is most likely documented in an Iron Maiden song, but that’s an aside. The fact is that Edward was just impatient, and this somehow caused his train ticket to paradise to take a sudden detour into South Detroit. Hell, the guy gives relationships no more than three months to thrive. In December of ’88,
he released “The Love in Your Eyes” from the album Nothing to Lose. Then, in February of the following year, he released “Forget About Love.” Christmas, he says he loves you. Valentine’s Day, forget it.
Shit or get off the goddamn pot, Eddie. You owe it to your fans. We demand that you release “What Ended Up Happening” from your album When I Got There, especially if you want to avoid a class action lawsuit on behalf of the strippers and auto mechanics who are still waiting on you to “Get a Move On.”
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