#533
1986 Housekeeping
Falco
Emotional
Genre: Euro-Wave
2.75 out of 5
It’s in my “Oh, he’s dead.” box.
In the mid 80s I had the biggest crush on Kathleen Turner. It was probably because of Body Heat and Crimes of Passion because I was immature and easily titillated. But it was also because of Peggy Sue Got Married. And Prizzi’s Honor.
She was a customer at the video store where I worked. For some reason I can’t totally recall (it might be that I was transferred…again…this time to the newly open uptown store) I wasn’t at the store in the West Village when she would come in to rent movies. Dammit. Someone at that store managed to convey my adoration of Ms. Turner to her husband, who would often come in and rent the movies and soon I was presented an 8x10 autographed glossy of the object of my affection.
It currently lives in my “Oh, he’s Dead.” box.
What’ an “Oh, he’s dead.” box?
It’s that box in your attic or basement that contains a bunch of your shit that you can’t bring yourself to throw away. Mine has old scripts of tv shows I was on, 3/4” demo tapes. Magazines. Other nonsensical sundries.
You have one, too. You all do.
It’s named this because, when you die, your kids or friends are going to find that box one day, open it, look through it, cry and say, “Oh…he’s dead.” and then not know what the fuck to do with the stuff you didn’t really have a place for but couldn’t bring yourself to throw away.
There’s a song on this record called, “The Kiss of Kathleen Turner”. It’s fine. It’s weird. How did I not know about it at the time? I don’t know.
My favorite named band of the 00s was Kathleen Turner Overdrive. I never heard them, though.
Anyway….
From the first few seconds of the title track I remind myself that we need to take certain notes as we move forward. Specifically, when to artists who might have started off in the traditional “rock” idiom, move on to something else entirely? Falco sounds like that on much of this. I appreciate the world war concern of “Cowboyz and Indianz” but it isn’t enough, for me, to propel this record into “gotta own” territory.
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