Hall of Shame: Simple Minds – Don’t You Forget About Me (1985)
Just let me forget and die
The Simple Minds are an easy target, because their essence and typical audience is already manifested within their bandname: it’s mind-numbing music for simple minds. But this band and its pathetic tunes show a shockingly frequent recurrence in my life, which I do not understand- but it fucks me up.
One of the most bizarre and memorable moments in my mucial life took place during the Cologne carnival about 5 years ago. I was driving my Dad’s car at night without my own music, and therefore was dependent on the radio. All stations were playing horrible carnival songs, except for one which was broadcasting a Simple Minds concert at 1 o’clock in the night. Paralyzed, but also negatively fascinated, I was unable to turn it off for its entire duration. Fulfilled by a pastoral organ sound in an ongoing process of invocation, tension- release, tension- release, tension- release was the single formula of the entire concert: a never-ending crescendo that leads into- nothing. Nothingness.
There are so many great moments in my life that I don’t remember anymore, but for some reason the Simple Minds shit stays forever. Like the memory of my friend Priska, a beautiful blonde pot-head with perfect thick black eyeliner. When we were 15, Priska would skip school almost daily, and sometimes I would join her and we’d hang out in her place while her single-mom was working. All would be fine until she took a deep hit from her bong, put a Simple Minds record on and started to rave about the band and “sexy” Jim Kerr. And it was not their more bearable very early stuff she listened to, no, it was ‘Alive & Kickin‘, ‘Belfast Child‘ and other smash-hits that come from a very strange and twisted place in hell. And even though I didn’t do any drugs, I knew that this was wrong, that something psychedelic or avantgarde would have been more apt and dignified to get high to.
We will enroll the case of the Simple Minds with their über-hit ‘Don’t You Forget About Me‘, a song that rolls up my nails and makes me wanna smash my head at walls everytime I hear it. A song that was not written by the band, yet still is an amalgam of everything their music is about. It had been offered to Bryan Ferry and Billy Idol before, which both refused to record it. As the score to the Breakfast Club (1985), it is also visually connected to one of the countless ‘Highschoool Dream’ lie-films that are engraved into the American psyche- which makes the matter only worse.
Press play.
“Hep, hep, hep, hep
Oooooooooooooh wooooooh“
What a fucking beginning! My teeth are starting to ache, a pain that increases with the end-lines of the song: „Lala la la lala la la“ (repeat 100 times). This article could stop right here, as no decent song in the world should ever begin like this, and no intelligent brain should get involved in most simple comic-speech-bubbles. But this serves as a perfect example of two main aspects of the Simple Minds’ music: infantilization & pathos for no reason, pathos that goes nowhere but exists as evil circuit.
Now, what is this all about, what is Jim Kerr singing about in this song that it obviously addressed to some passed fling, but refuses to provide any coherent story-line? „Won’t you come see about me / I’ll be alone, dancing you know it baby“. Of course, baby. I can see that you are either dancing romantically and alone at the prom between some balloons, or do an enchanted pagan dance in the rain, maybe to the esoteric flute sounds of the ‘Belfast Child‘ this time. Jim Kerr also shows us in the music video how you oughta dance to it, baby: clapping your hands like a new wave- monkey in a madmen’s torture chamber, in between creepy toys, clowns, and jukeboxes. And also, for no reason, while you are dancing, „Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling / Down, down, down“ It is this certain most horrible way of writing, using one symbol after the other to give the impression of depth and meaning when there simply is none.
We know these situations from real life: some old friends of mine will claim that as a young girl I broke many hearts, but I ask you: what would you do if some 21-year old guy drove you home, put on ‘Don’t You Forget About Me‘, and threw a glance your way, forcing meaningfulness into the moment, and conjuring a feeling that is not there? Is it such a capital crime to dream of somebody who is into Black Celebration instead? No regrets, I’m glad I stood strong and principled. Thank you for the lift, N.
The song goes on: „Will you stand above me? / Look my way, never love me / Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling“ or „Hey, hey, hey, hey / Ooooooooooooh wooooh / Don’t you try and pretend“. But the worst is the chrous line- Jim Kerr is not singing „Please don’t forget about me“ or „I hope you don’t forget about me“, no, he’s jovially reminding you „Don’t you forget about me“ with a sugar-coated arrogance, just LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER.
by Saliha Enzenauer
Ha Saliha! You’re going to hate me forever but I love their early records. Up until Sons And Fascination/Sister Feelings Call in 1981. All down hill after that.
Hall of Shame is a favourite of mine. The list is endless……
Is Pete still in touch? He’d be in on this.
Hope you are well.
Saliha,
I think we’ve just done Hall of Shame for music? If we can do Hall of Shame for movies, I would contribute against Adam Sandler (his “comedy” is the most aggravating, annoying, immature, irritating) and Quentin Tarantino (I’m so sick and tired of his juvenile, overrated, over-the-top, ridiculous shock tactic flicks gaining critical acclaim that they do not deserve.) I hate both of them and hate their movies.
Awesome, Mark! The Hall of Shame is of course open to films, and especially commercial mainstream director Tarantino- the most overrated director of our times- needs a good reality check. I have watched “Once Upon A Time in Hollywood” recently and was simply shocked about its awfulness. That this is being sold and bought as “arthouse for the masses” is laughable. I’d love to read your take on him and his films!
Adam Sandler- I try to forget about this obnoxious guy. Also, both Tarantino and Sandler have very, very punchable visages.
For me, this is exactly the thing that happens when ugly “smash-hits” stick with us. As time goes by, we start to feel guilty about the initial amusement and subsequent fascination. As you said, you knew it was wrong, but you weren´t into the mind-blowing music that you discovered afterwards.
I had a similar experience with “The Breakfast Club”, this movie was recommended by a friend (I was around 16) . As you might expect, my initial impression was: Oh, what a masterpiece. That feelings about the film started to dissolve through time, and now I can´t stand the praise and critical acclaim. I would like to smash my head against the wall when people and critics say “It´s the ultimate coming of age film, an instant classic”.
Octavio,
Agreed with you. It’s another bad, bland ’80s teen comedy and definitely not a classic. I think Quentin Tarantino’s movies are also extremely overrated.
Loved your last sentence, haha- I can literally see it in front of my eyes. We should do an art movie about it: A man in a bleak room smashing his head against the wall while watching Breakfast Club, kinda like “Oldboy meets John Hughes”. I agree, most important is to grow out of such things (by recognizning it as for what it is), but we are living in such infantile time, with the many shallow protagonists of the ‘Fun,Fun,Fun’ civilization, that it’s actually no fun anymore for a long while now. Whenever you wanna start a debate on something, intellectually dismantle a film like this, all you hear is “C’mon, it’s such fuuuuuun”. Well, fuck you.
I forgot about this obnoxious video, I actually thought it just had scenes from the film in it. Love your director’s cut, hahaha
Unfortunately, the band rejected my idea.
Saliha,
I was amused and entertained by this piece. I actually have heard other 1980s track worse than this track, but you are correct in your assessment that it is hilariously, obnoxiously repetitious.
I still think the 1980s was probably one of the worst decades in music but some of the late 1990s boy/girl bubblegum pop, nu-metal, and post-grunge and the annoying, awful country, emo, pop, and rap of the 2000s/2010s I think is even worse than the bad music of the 1980s. Probably because the majority of 1980s music is now so ridiculous that it actually has a campy quality.
I agree on all points, it only got worse. Nu metal, post grunge, emo rock – this certain kind of pathetic Netflix-trailer music is an especially vicious assault on your ears. Rap is a genre I simply don’t listen to, and most of Pop I can also ignore. For some cruel reason, the Simple Minds just keep recurring in my life.
Would love to read such a rant by you!
Saliha,
I’ll try to brainstorm for a Hall of Shame one of these days. Your Sgt. Pepper’s Hall of Shame is legendary.
JUST LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER lol
My feelings are hurt, but a hilarious read nevertheless. Suddenly it’s a guilty pleasure to listen to this song 😂
Cracking read! To their defense: the Simple Minds didn’t want to do this song and hated it, but their management and Kerr’s then girlfriend Chrissie Hynde forced them. The song is annoying as hell, especially since it’s wedded to a John Hughes movie.
DON’T GET ME WRONG, but Chrissie Hynde and her ‘punk’ band The Pretenders are just another case for this column.
Agreed about the Pretenders. Haha!
Awful song and band, it’s just another kind of REO Speedwagon. The girl getting high to their music cracked me up though, so bizarre. Fun read, Saliha!
REO Speedwagon!!! Not so far off truly.
Priska was this bombshell, she turned many boys on while hitting her bong- but she only had ears for Jim Kerr 😵
I’m laughing so hard
Simple Minds, indeed. The song is, of course, exactly as you describe it. Completely un-poetic and meaningless. Offensively vapid in its attempt to convey meaning (or even a story) without one coherent line or lyric. Dismantling this nothingness is a public service. Thank you. In late-period America, the song launched a million prom night. Now…Imagine instead your young friend had Rocky Erickson’s Realize You’re My Sweet Angel Eyes in the car instead this dribble.