I did not know much about about music during the spring of New Coke, but I knew I liked boys and I knew I really liked Duran Duran, and I knew I wanted to know what the Taylors were doing with their side neon-blues project, featuring Chic drummer Tony Thompson’s loud drums, Andy’s booming guitar work, and the lead singer — Oh! the lead singer! — Robert Palmer with his throaty growl and older, worldly British man ways.
Part of me wants to feel bad for today’s pre-teens with the their Justin Biebers and their, um, Justin Biebers. Bieber isn’t going to teach them desire and hunger with deep plaintive howls of “Feel the heat, burning you up, ready or not”, not like bluesy Robert Palmer showed a blossoming, blushing girls like myself.
Even 25 years later, I need about about a case of New Coke to cool myself down after my first foray into music that echoed into a larger pop experience.
(No, I never cared about Simon LeBon and Rick Rhoades experiments with their side band Arcadia.)