CJ’s Pitch:
When you’re traveling through Rock & Roll City (Population: Everybody), you’ll eventually come to the intersection of pop and hard rock. Here you’ll discover a loud, little village known as Arena Rock. Among the residents of this enclave you’ll find your Journeys, your Bostons, your REO Speedwagons, your Styxszs and today’s subject, William H. “Billy” Squier.
Arena Rock owes its broad appeal to the fact that it has enough danceable beats to engage the teenyboppers and enough crunchy power chords to satisfy the rockers. This straddling of genres has caused many critics and fans to dismiss it as unserious music, which really isn’t fair. Billy Squier wrote and performed some of the most iconic songs of the early 1980s, the bulk of them on his 1981 smash Don’t Say No. The fact that they appealed to the Arena Rock crowd doesn’t make them any less significant.
Don’t Say No is kind of a touchstone for me. It was one of the first two cassette tapes I ever bought. (The other was The Kinks Give The People What They Want.) It was released just as I was entering my teenage years and beginning to broaden my musical vision beyond the AM Gold that played in my parents’ car on long road trips. And it came along at a time when I started to care about my public persona, more specifically what my peers thought of me.
Songs like “In The Dark”, “Lonely Is The Night” and “You Know What I Like” were common ground. If you put them on at a party, the guys would nod approvingly and the girls would sing along. Of course, everybody loved the most well-known song on the album, “The Stroke”, because we all thought it was about sex. (It’s actually about getting screwed by the music industry à la Boston’s “Rock and Roll Band” and Pink Floyd’s “Have a Cigar”.) Despite the misunderstanding, the appeal of that song was universal. I can’t think of a Bar Mitzvah party that I attended where “The Stroke” wasn’t on the playlist. And in a full-circle twist of irony, my teenage son had it as his ringtone for the longest time.
Other songs on the album are like comfort food to me. All these years later, I still know every word to “Too Daze Gone”, “My Kinda Lover” and “I Need You”. They each feature bouncy tempos, catchy hooks and repeatable choruses—all the ingredients for an arena rock feast.
As I creep closer and closer to my AARP discounts, I think about why I loved this album so much then and still do now. The basic truth is that you could put Don’t Say No on the stereo and hang out, dance, drink, make out or smoke up, all with equal measures of success. When you’re a teenager, there really isn’t much more to life than that.
Listening to the album today, I recall those simple joys with crystalline clarity. Thank you for that, Mr. Squier. You really do know what I like.
Ken’s Response:
I’m a Needham High graduate, and Squier’s hometown is Wellesley. Now if you’re from the mean streets of Needham you know a few things about Wellesley - most importantly that we’re arch-enemies on the athletic fields, and Wellesley is the town we simply refer to as “that place you get to right after you pass the town dump.” So it is with great regret and disappointment to say that Billy Squier’s Don’t Say No is (and always has been) a genuinely fun record.
Don’t Say No captures everything good about music in the early ‘80s. The lyrics are deeper than they seem, but not so deep that anyone is going to mistakenly think they’re listening to early Neil Young. The guitar riffs are catchy and they rock, but you aren’t going to mistake this album for Beggars Banquet. When you hear those first few notes of “In the Dark”, you are unmistakably in the presence of early 80’s arena rock. Of course, this is a Wellesley kid we’re talking about, so it’s more like luxury box rock.
Anyone over 45 will certainly recognize several of Don’t Say No’s hits. “The Stroke”, “My Kinda Lover” and “Lonely Is the Night” all got some serious radio play on Charles Laquidara’s morning show “The Big Mattress”. Taking a bit of a deeper dive however, there are gems like “Whadda You Want From Me”, “I Need You”, and arguably the best song on the album “Too Daze Gone”. Suburban legend says that “Too Daze Gone” was written by Squier at age 6, when his live-in au pair went on a traditional “Wellesley Pilgrimage,” which is just a weekend yoga retreat in the Berkshires.
The bottom line is that this is a great album. So good, in fact, that we’ll overlook the fact that the seats in Squier’s tour bus were custom upholstered by Dover Saddlery.
Pitch Successful
Mitch’s Response:
December 25, 1981
Wellesley, Massachusetts
Young Billy was confused. He wasn’t sure whether he was asleep or awake, but he was certain that the spectral figure that hovered above his bed shouldn’t have been there either way. The being spoke: “I am Frampton, the ghost of rock past, learn from my story, and don’t allow the machine to sex you up. You’re a serious artist. You wrote all the songs on Don’t Say No, and it’s good stuff, even deep cuts like “Nobody Knows” and “I Need You”. Don’t put style over substance, and never, ever make music videos. Heed my warning.”
Before Billy could reply the spirit was gone, and in his place was another alien presence: “I am Hagar, the ghost of rock future, learn from my story, and always have a back-up plan, man. I've heard Don’t Say No and there’s plenty of filler on that bad boy - and I know from album filler! Look, this rock and roll shit can end fast. Plan ahead. Hook up with a big band or slap your name on a tequila or something. And cool videos are awesome! Cabo Wabo baby!!”
In a flash of red the alien disappeared, this time replaced by the handsome visage of yet another strange apparition: “I am Bon Jovi, ghost of rock present, learn from my story, and fuck those hacks. You write killer hits like "My Kinda Lover”, “Lonely is the Night”, and “In the Dark” that will stand the test of time. Of course you should play up your looks, a-doy! You’re doing great, Billy. Don’t Say No is awesome. Just promise me that you'll always put lots of hot chicks in your videos.”
Fin.
Pitch Successful
Don’s Response:
Well, after Mitch’s airy treatise on Genesis’ “prog rock” last week, CJ brings us back to Earth this week with Billy Squier’s 1981 touch stone, Don’t Say No, which is definitively “reg rock.”
“Reg Rock” as in: regressive and regular, both in a good way. Standard tunings, sturdy riffs, simple time signatures. Light your lighter, bang your head, sing along to silly choruses like “The Stroke” and “Too Daze Gone.” Don’t Say Know is feel good, harmless early 80’s fun.
But it’s not that simple. Squier’s vocals copped two of the best, most anthemic singers of the ‘70’s: Freddie Mercury and Robert Plant. To wit, “Nobody Knows,” where he channels Mercury just before the guitar solo (“like it ought to be”) before switching to Plant coming out of the solo (“timeless friends”). I did a little research after this struck me and discovered Squier wrote the song about a third Mt. Rushmore rocker, John Lennon, just before Lennon was assassinated. Heavy stuff.
I must admit I didn’t appreciate Squier the first time around, turned off by his downright terrible videos back when MTV launched. But it was fun to rediscover his bubblegum rock this week.
Pitch Successful
CJ’s pitch was smoother than a set of silk sheets and Billy Squier’s Don’t Say No has been added to the Newbury St. Collection.
Thanks for reading! Why don’t you put your emotions in motion and let us know what you think about Billy Squier’s Don’t Say No?
Please join us next week as Ken takes us all the way back to 1959 to trumpet the genius of Miles Davis’s 1959 milestone release Kind of Blue.
MTV jump-started the career of dozens, if not hundreds, of musicians in the 1980s. Unfortunately for Billy Squier, it ended his. The killing blow was stuck by Billy's video for his 1984 hit "Rock Me Tonite". It can best be described a series of disastrous decisions resulting in what many consider to be among the worst, if not the actual worst, videos of all time. The guys alluded to it above, so I thought I'd elaborate for those who didn't live through the MTV era. Google it if you want, but don't say I didn't warn you.
Alright, so I love that you guys do this. It’s so fun to follow. But this one hit home in a weird way. Because once upon a time, when dinosaurs still roamed the Earth, when I was first working in Boston, I was sent by a friend of mine to get my haircut at a long-defunct place on Newbury Street called Harrington’s. Ask for Christine, he said. Which I did. Christine, I discovered, was MTV, permanently tongue-tieingly gorgeous...and was, I learned, Billy Squires’ girlfriend. Got my hair cut, left a big tip...and never went back. Couldn’t handle it.