By John Johnson, photos by Chaz Dykes

Everyone has their favorite decade of music and they typically consider their particular preferred decade to also be the BEST decade of music. Well, 80’s are my favorite, probably due to the fact that I was in my prime teens and early 20’s for most of it. But I would never try to convince anyone that the 80’s were the best, that’s purely subjective. What I will argue, and have done so on multiple occasions, is that the 80’s were the last decade of ORIGINAL music. Meaning that after 1990, or 91 say, any music created after that can be attributed to something that had already come before or “been done”. But we won’t get into that here, although I’m sure I’m about to “hear” it from some of you. Trust me, I love a good debate, especially when music is the topic. But no, this article just happens to be a review of an all 80’s bands “festival” that just buzzed through the Bay Area. The Totally Tubular Festival, which was held at Ferg’s this past Wednesday, August 12th. And it was so steamy out that even the giant pink Aquanet Super Hold wouldn’t have stood a chance. So it’s a good thing that most gals in attendance chose to pull their hair back and the guys are mostly follicly challenged these days. Ironically enough, said Aquanet probably attributed to the ozone hole which in turn caused the evening to be so hot and sticky.

Wednesday when, like me, you waltzed into Ferg’s magnificent Concert Courtyard you were instantly greeted by two things: a wall of humid Florida air thick enough to chew, and several hundred Gen-Xers ready to dance like it wasn’t a weeknight and their knees didn’t hurt. Some of the congregation may actually be retired so the weeknight aspect may not have been a factor. And sadly, the majority of the devotees stayed seated so maybe their knees, and hips, did actually hurt. I’d bet that the heat didn’t help either. Bottom line, you didn’t have to get up and dance to break a sweat. Regardless, St. Pete’s gem of a live music venue was invaded by a crowd of glorious middle-aged suburban warriors, who showed up for a marathon retro showcase of acts from the golden age of MTV. To prime the gathered mass, decked in various 80’s band tees and other dayglow attire, the speakers were pumping out ditties from that beloved decade, some popular and some deeper cuts. For example, “Nemesis”, “Warm Leatherette” and whatever song Buffalo Bill gyrated to in Silence of the Lambs. I was in the restroom during that particular number and for a brief moment, I felt a slight urge to tuck my junk in front of the mirror and sway. I digress (I always do).

That alarming vision aside and without further ado, here’s my personal breakdown of how this traveling musical Time Machine unfolded, act by exuberant, and appreciative, act. Local radio legend Mason Dixon energetically strolled out and extolled thanks to Ferg and tour planners. The remarkably youthful Dixon took center stage to introduce the first band of the evening. Props to Mr. Dixon, who I remember being a staple on Bay

Area radio waves as far back as I can remember. And at my age, my calculations put him somewhere around 137. But however old he really is, he looked and sounded fabulous.

Opening the marathon evening while the sun was still beating down, Tommy Tutone kicked things off with classic high-energy rock with a slight indie feel. Led by the slender Tommy Heath on guitar and vocals, with local multi-instrumentalist and impressively coiffed Jimmy James on drums. Opening with a college radio vibed rendition of “Wild World” by Cat Stevens, they set the tone for the short five song set. Followed by “Angel Say No”, “Which Man are You” and “Cheap Date”, it was refreshing to see the four piece twangers seemingly having as much fun as the audience. Although I was familiar with every song in his set, the entire collective was waiting for arguably one of the most famous 80’s song of them all. And to prove that point, a video montage of everyone from The Simpsons, Family Guy, Friends and beyond, parroting those iconic digits played before Tutones closer. The moment the iconic guitar riff of “867-5309/Jenny” echoed across the patio, the entire bar sang the phone number at absolute top-volume. I’m pretty sure half the crowd entered that number as their passcode on the way home. Heath claimed that “Jenny” is actually the very old, and loved, Fender Telecaster he was playing and offered fans the opportunity to take pics with “her” at the merch booth after. Tommy Tutone was an awesome way to kick off the evening, even though they could have easily been placed higher in the lineup.

Taking the stage next, London’s own The Escape Club kept the overheated, albeit growing, kinetic momentum rolling. Leading us through a tight, probably back-tracked, three song set. I barely had time to grab a beer (and a water), when they dropped the lead in to their only hit song, “Wild, Wild West”.

By the time Animotion took over, the sun had finally given up, but the heat sure hadn’t. Consisting of original duo Astrid Plane on vocals, and Bill Wadhams on guitar and vocals, they too played a swift three song set. The dual-vocal bite of massive radio hit “Obsession” sounded surprisingly huge outdoors, with its keyboard created horn section blaring across the courtyard. Plane and Wadham played off of each other well, with a smidge of flirtiness added in, as if 40 plus years hadn’t passed at all. Even though “Obsession” is their biggest hit, it was an “oh yeah” moment when they performed their other, sleeper hit from 1989, “Let Him Go”.

Up next were the hep cats from Atlanta GA, and probably the reason I was most excited to attend the fest, The Producers. Bringing a brilliant dose of power-pop perfection, they proved to be a dark horse favorite of the night for most in attendance. I noticed a handful of people sporting Producers merch milling about before the show, and now they were ecstatically bouncing out of their seats. Members Van Temple on guitar and vocals, Kyle Henderson on bass and vocals, Bryan Holmes on drums and vocals, and Wayne Famous on keys. I was so relieved to hear that, after not seeing them for over 30 years, they still had those flawless harmonies, tight rhythms, and absolute infectious energy. Even though Mr. Famous (real name Wayne McNatt) is in a wheelchair, he was still up there plucking away at his synth with glee. Opening with “Back to basics” and “Certain Kinda Girl” it was “What’s He Got?” and “She Sheila,” that reminded everyone just how sharp their songwriting remains. When Wayne started plucking the opening notes to the latter, I may have teared up a bit. It was a great set, but I would have loved to have heard 4 or 5 more tunes.

Fifth in line were Men Without Hats. When most people hear that name, present company included, a smirk crosses one’s face and you’re reminded of that bizarre circus-like video on MTV for their biggest “hit”. However, they delivered an energetic set of four tunes, all of which I suddenly remembered hearing at some point. The appropriately named “I Love the 80’s”, “Antarctica” and the cheerful, albeit somewhat darkly written, “Pop Goes the World” were all sung with tireless enthusiasm by founder and vocalist Ivan Doroschuk. My wife quipped that if I had kept singing in bands I would probably be Doroschuk. Which I found flattering, as he is super charismatic and in great shape. Most assuredly due to his non-stop hopping, arm swinging and near calisthenics done during the 28 minutes he was on stage. Of course all that energy led to the ear-worm, and biggest Men Without Hats tune, “Safety Dance”. Upon deeper inspection I discovered that Doroschuk wrote the ditty as a protest against bouncers prohibiting dancers from pogoing to new wave music in clubs in the 80’s, and it is not a song about safe sex which was a common misconception. Either way, the crowd responded accordingly, with forming their arms in giant trademark S’s and extolling that “we can dance if we want to”. People indeed did dance. People sang. Some people probably shouldn’t have done the dance. But the majority, except for a few seated losers in the front row, were up and having a great time. PSA moment, if you’re going to get front row tickets, or work your way down there in a GA situation, at least show the band some respect and stand up once in a while. You don’t HAVE to dance, although it’d be nice, at least “act” like you’re having a good time. I guarantee that the performers would rather you at least fain excitement than watch you sit on your asses.

Then came A Flock of Seagulls, and the night seemingly kicked into another gear. The band’s sound is so unmistakably tied to the era that it felt almost surreal hearing their songs blasting across Ferg’s while downtown St. Pete carried on around us. His patented origami blonde coif now a thing of the past, Mike Score stood center stage behind his electric Roland and mesmerized the multitude of onlookers. Playing a whopping seven songs, opening with one old (“The More You Live, The More You Love”) and a few newer tunes (“Him”, “Say You Love me” and “Some Dreams”), it was the remaining three that hit the new wavers in attendance right in their 80’s feels. The dreamy “Space Age Love song” twinkled in the night air, leading into the more chunky patterned “Wishing (If I Had a Photograph of You)” had a hundred or so of us orating along with Mr. Score that we wouldn’t spend our “life just wishing”. I’ve heard that, being a purist composer and instrumentalist, that Score wasn’t always thrilled about performing the same three hits over and over. Probably afraid of being the Tina Louise of 80’s pop music. But I hope he realizes that his songs bring joy and I for one am glad he’s resolved himself of that “burden” and will continue to share his gift. Which leads me to their set closer and one of the biggest hits of that decade. Chances are, if you ask whatever robot that controls your streaming device to “play 80’s music”, there’s a real good chance that “I Ran” is going to be the first song that it spits out. When that plinky guitar hits and those keys rise during the intro of said song, it’s almost impossible to stay seated and quiet. Unless of course you’re one of the aforementioned dolts in the front row. Thank you Mike Score, for reminding me why the 80’s are my favorite decade.

Finally, the mad scientist himself took the stage,Thomas Dolby. Dolby had the unenviable job of following six acts and a crowd that had already burned through a couple hours of nostalgia. Instead, he delivered the perfect final chapter to the evening. Backed by a super tight quartet of entertainers dubbed the Lost Toy People, they opened with a personal favorite “Europa and the Pirate Twins”. Having the most songs of the evening (9) was a blessing and a curse. One, it showcased the musicians abilities on diverse, lesser known compositions like “The Key to Her Ferrari” and “Airhead”, which I appreciated. But sadly, I felt Dolby’s attempt to broaden their melodious horizons of herd at Fergs wasn’t as welcomed as it should have been. “Hot Sauce”, “Pulp Culture” and “My Brain is Like a Sieve” were played extremely well by a superb troupe of musicians that may have been overlooked by a gaggle that just wanted to hear the hits. They didn’t need to wait too long as Mr.Dolby appeased them with the closing two numbers. Surprisingly the most familiar, “She Blinded Me With Science” wasn’t the show ender. That quirky 80’s staple had us all shouting out SCIENCE in unison at the proper moments and reminding Miss Sakamoto that she was indeed beautiful. To close out the night, Dolby chose another fave of mine, “Hyperactive”, with relatable title and therapy session undertones. Dolby’s music has always lived somewhere between pop, technology, experimentation and pure eccentricity, and that made him an ideal centerpiece for a festival celebrating a decade that somehow managed to be wildly commercial, completely strange and absolutely original.

For a few hours, age became irrelevant. The heat became background noise. Wednesday night became Saturday night, and Ferg’s became The London Victory Club (IYKYK). And a crowd that probably had work and an alarm clock waiting for them the next morning, had no issue screaming “8675309” with a bunch of strangers. That’s the magic of the 80’s. The decade may be LONG gone, but apparently we’re not done with it. Thank you Ferg’s for making our swelteringly sodden Wednesday… Totally Tubular.

Now, Go Out and See, Hear and Feel Live Music.