Those of you too young to remember the 80’s might be surprised to learn of the existence of something we referred to back then as “music.” This “music” was comprised of a synchronized mélange of fixed sound-wave frequencies known as “notes,” accompanied by less defined, more intermittent sounds known as “beats.” Often the “notes” were created care of human vocal chords – without the aid of computers — by a person known as a “singer.” The “singer” would marry these “notes” to an arrangement of words known as “lyrics,” and would, while accompanied by people known as “musicians” — who would generate complimentary sound-waves on devices known as “instruments” — perform these “music” compositions – or “songs” – before an audience of appreciative listeners, known as “fans.”

At the forefront of this long-forgotten technology was a man named Huey Lewis. Huey and his musical accompanists, aka “the News,” crafted catchy, entertaining pieces of ear-candy that were thankfully free of pretense, contrived angst, ironic detachment, verbatim references to music that was popular 20-years-prior, product placement, digital pitch correction, muddled politics, and overly emotional whining. He was, in a word, awesome.

And by “was awesome” I mean “IS awesome” — a fact your ears will no doubt verify after following this link to the Pineapple Express Soundtrack MySpace page.

For those of you who DO remember the 80’s, Huey’s dulcet baritone should instantly whisk you back to that happier time, that better time, when actual adults created music for people of all ages to enjoy, and this music was popular and appreciated by the masses. For the rest of you, on being exposed for the first time to this “music,” you’ll likely find yourself involuntarily performing an uncharacteristic act such as vacating your bowels all over your Panic at the Disco! CDs, or flushing your iPod down the toilet, or hunting down the Jonas Brothers, killing them in some dark alley, and eating their defiled corpses. Go with it. It’s a natural, beautiful thing. Welcome to the human race. But please, don’t thank me. Thank Huey.

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