It began, as these things often do, with a perfectly innocent intention. I had no plans beyond coffee. That’s the danger. When a man enters the Circular Journey Café with no plans, the universe tends to assign him some.
The morning was behaving itself; sunlight filtering through the windows as if it had read the handbook, the hum of conversation low and agreeable, the espresso machine performing its sacred rites without protest. Ms. Wonder and I had just settled in beneath the trees on the outdoor terrace and I’d just opened my phone to check messages when the first note hit.
Not from the café speakers. From somewhere deeper; like a radio signal from deep space.
My memory has its own sound system, and it had queued up the 1980s. Not the decade, exactly, but the 1980s as a force, a synth-driven, emotionally sincere, slightly overproduced force. And here’s the curious thing I’ve noticed: the 1980s didn’t stay in the past. They keep coming back to remind us of our glory days, and when I way remind us, I mean remind me, of course.
As the songs played on the sound stage in my head, I started assembling a Spotify playlist: six songs, all from the 1980s, all Billboard Top 10 hits in their day—and all of them, through some cosmic loophole, finding their way back onto the charts in the opening of the 21st Century.
1. “Running Up That Hill” – Kate Bush (1985)
There are comebacks, and then there are resurrections. This song from 1985 reached No. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100. But then in 2022, due to its unforgettable appearance in the Netflix series Stranger Things, it did more than resurface; it rocketed back into the Top 10.
I was just beginning to appreciate the wonder of this when Ms. Wonder herself returned to our table, set her coffee down with the quiet precision of someone who had something to say.
“You look like you’re about to explain something unnecessarily complicated,” she said.
I responded by mentioning how the hit songs of the 1980s never seem to fade into the past. “That’s not simply nostalgia, Poopsie. That’s time travel with a synthesizer.”.
She took a sip of her latte. “Or,” she said, “it could simply be a popular TV show, accessorizing with a popular song.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That too.”
2. “Africa” – Toto (1982)
There are songs you remember, and then there are songs that refuse to let you forget them.
Africa reached No. 1 in 1983, and for decades it lingered in that pleasant corner of memory that I reserve for songs that I sing badly but loudly, driving down Ocean Highway with the windows down. I recounted it all to the Woman of Wonder.
“Then, in 2018," I continued, "Weezer covered it, and here's an amazing thing about that. Apparently, it was initially intended as a joke of some sort. I can’t quite get my head around that, but there it is. At any rate, joke or not, it was suddenly back on the Billboard Hot 100.”
Wonder took another sip from the cup but remained quiet. Like Nature, I hate a vacuum, and so continued enjoying the wonder that is pop music.
“A resurgence of pop culture like that is collective unconscious expressing itself through ironic appreciation that becomes sincere over time. And when I say collective unconsicous, I'm talking about the consciousness of the collective.”
Ms. Wonder didn’t even look up. “It's a nice song. People like to sing along with it,” she said.
3. “Fast Car” – Tracy Chapman (1988)
If the 1980s had a quiet corner, a place where sincerity sat without irony, it belonged to Tracy Chapman. Fast Car reached the Top 10 in 1988 and became one of those rare songs that doesn’t age so much as deepen. Then in 2023, Luke Combs covered it.
He didn't reimagine it; didn't reinvent it; he just respected it. Bam! Another Top 10 hit.
“That proves something I’ve long suspected,” I said. “Authenticity, just like good coffee, doesn’t go out of style; it just waits for someone to appreciate it again. I'm sure your maritime photography will do the same.
Wonder took another slow sip of her latte, “Good songs remain good songs.”
4. “Livin’ on a Prayer” – Bon Jovi (1986)
This No. 1 hit in 1986 has resurfaced repeatedly in the streaming era, reentering charts and remaining culturally relevant.
“This song is about resilience,” I said. “It's musical persistence embedded in the cultural psyche.”
Ms. Wonder stirred her coffee. “It’s about people singing loudly at cultural events,” she said.
5. “Total Eclipse of the Heart” – Bonnie Tyler (1983)
There are songs designed for special moments, and then there are special moments that seem designed for songs. When the solar eclipse of 2017 swept across the United States, this song, which was already a No. 1 hit in 1983, returned to the Billboard charts.
Because of course it did.
If the moon is going to block out the sun, you might as well have Bonnie Tyler narrate the emotional implications. I remember that day. People stood outside, wearing protective glasses, staring at the sky. And somewhere, inevitably, someone pressed play.
“That,” I said, “is the universe aligning symbolism with sound.”
“That,” she said, “is marketing and opportunity getting together for a jam fest.”
Closing Statement: The Coffee Was Never the Point
After discussing that fifth song, I realized the sunlight had shifted. The terrace had filled with the quiet hum of people living their lives in real time, unaware that the past was gently playing all around them, if only they chose to tune in.
I felt something stirring in my limbic system, somewhere in the vacinity of the amygdala, that’s when Princess Amy appeared.
She seemed to be musing, giving something a moment of consideration. I was about to ask what arrested her attention, but I didn’t get the chance.
Ah, she said. I see what's happened now; you've had temporal leakage. I hope it's cleared up now, I've heard enough about music from the decade of decadence.
“It’s only passing nostalgia,” I replied.
“Did you say something?” Wonder asked.
“Only that the 1980s aren’t gone forever,” I said. “They revisit me, when the conditions are right, and remind me of the glory days.”
Ms. Wonder finished her coffee and set the cup down.
“I think they don’t revisit you,” she said, “as much as they haven’t ever left.”
“That proves something I’ve long suspected,” I said. “Authenticity, just like good coffee, doesn’t go out of style; it just waits for someone to appreciate it again. I'm sure your maritime photography will do the same.
Wonder took another slow sip of her latte, “Good songs remain good songs.”
4. “Livin’ on a Prayer” – Bon Jovi (1986)
This No. 1 hit in 1986 has resurfaced repeatedly in the streaming era, reentering charts and remaining culturally relevant.
“This song is about resilience,” I said. “It's musical persistence embedded in the cultural psyche.”
Ms. Wonder stirred her coffee. “It’s about people singing loudly at cultural events,” she said.
5. “Total Eclipse of the Heart” – Bonnie Tyler (1983)
There are songs designed for special moments, and then there are special moments that seem designed for songs. When the solar eclipse of 2017 swept across the United States, this song, which was already a No. 1 hit in 1983, returned to the Billboard charts.
Because of course it did.
If the moon is going to block out the sun, you might as well have Bonnie Tyler narrate the emotional implications. I remember that day. People stood outside, wearing protective glasses, staring at the sky. And somewhere, inevitably, someone pressed play.
“That,” I said, “is the universe aligning symbolism with sound.”
“That,” she said, “is marketing and opportunity getting together for a jam fest.”
Closing Statement: The Coffee Was Never the Point
After discussing that fifth song, I realized the sunlight had shifted. The terrace had filled with the quiet hum of people living their lives in real time, unaware that the past was gently playing all around them, if only they chose to tune in.
I felt something stirring in my limbic system, somewhere in the vacinity of the amygdala, that’s when Princess Amy appeared.
She seemed to be musing, giving something a moment of consideration. I was about to ask what arrested her attention, but I didn’t get the chance.
Ah, she said. I see what's happened now; you've had temporal leakage. I hope it's cleared up now, I've heard enough about music from the decade of decadence.
“It’s only passing nostalgia,” I replied.
“Did you say something?” Wonder asked.
“Only that the 1980s aren’t gone forever,” I said. “They revisit me, when the conditions are right, and remind me of the glory days.”
Ms. Wonder finished her coffee and set the cup down.
“I think they don’t revisit you,” she said, “as much as they haven’t ever left.”
No one can put a period at the end of a sentence like Ms. Wonder. There's nothing like her. She towers above mere mortals.
