Rock 85: A Time Capsule of Neon and Grit
Man, Rock 85 is like stepping into a time machine that smells faintly of hairspray and cigarette smoke. Released in—you guessed it—1985, this compilation album from Canada and Spain feels like someone took the best parts of rock, pop, post-punk, and new wave, threw them all into a blender, and hit "puree." It’s chaotic, sure, but also kind of magical. Produced by Nacho Mañó (who clearly had an ear for bangers) and designed with some serious flair by Bill Hicks, this thing screams '80s nostalgia louder than your uncle's mullet at a family reunion.
Now, let’s talk tracks. With hits like “Sunglasses at Night” and “Girls Just Want to Have Fun,” how could you not get sucked into its vibe? But two songs really stuck with me after spinning this record—a couple times too many, if I’m being honest.
First up: “Wouldn’t It Be Good.” Oh man, this track slaps harder than my high school crush rejecting me on prom night. The synth line hits you right in the chest, while the vocals feel so raw they might as well be whispering secrets directly into your soul. There’s something about the longing in those lyrics—it’s hopeful but kinda heartbreaking at the same time. You know when you’re lying awake at 3 AM thinking about what-ifs? Yeah, that’s this song. Every note reminds me of late-night drives under flickering streetlights, windows down, pretending life wasn’t falling apart just yet.
Then there’s “Cum On Feel The Noise.” Okay, first off, can we appreciate the audacity of that title? Classic ‘80s move. This one’s pure energy—a fist-pumping anthem that makes you wanna grab a hairbrush microphone and scream along until your throat hurts. It’s messy, loud, and unapologetically fun. Honestly, it’s impossible not to headbang to this track. Listening to it feels like crashing a party where everyone knows the words except you, but somehow you still belong.
But here’s the kicker—the rest of the album isn’t half bad either. Tracks like “Ghostbusters” and “Footloose” bring back memories of neon leg warmers and arcade machines eating quarters faster than you could say Pac-Man. And then there are deeper cuts like “Falsos Profetas” or “Paisaje Gris,” which remind you that beneath all the glitz and glam, there was real emotion brewing in the ‘80s music scene.
What gets me most about Rock 85 is how it doesn’t try too hard to be cool—it just is. Sure, some tracks haven’t aged perfectly (looking at you, “Te Mataré”), but overall, it’s a snapshot of a moment in time when music felt bigger than life itself. Like, who needs Spotify algorithms when you’ve got a mixtape full of contradictions and charm?
So yeah, listening to Rock 85 made me realize something weird: maybe the ‘80s weren’t perfect because the music was great—it’s the other way around. The music was great because the ‘80s were such a hot mess. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
