The Revival of the '80s

I blame Donnie Darko.

It was always inexplicable why Richard Kelly's breakout time-travel flick was set in 1988. Aside from a few references to that year's presidential election, there wasn't a damn thing that made Darko a period piece.

Except the soundtrack.

Featuring Echo & the Bunnymen, Duran Duran, Joy Division, the Church and, most iconically, the Gary Jules cover of Tears For Fears' "Mad World", the movie paired what was almost fetishist music with dark imagery, convoluted storylines, a creepy rabbit costume, and Jena Malone setting the template for Kristen Stewart's career.



It seemed like the first post-millenial reminder of the occasion brilliance of 80s music. Almost immediately thereafter Interpol brought back the sound in a big way, and were both lauded and lambasted for it. Then a film like 24 Hour Party People was, as Pitchfork once said, "reminding folks that the gulf between Joy Division and rave culture is only about an hour-and-a-half wide." Then we had a Pixies reunion. A Gang of Four reunion. A Police reunion, even though they famously hated each other. A weird reality show where people actually wanted to be in INXS.

In the past few years even the fashion was coming back (I mean, check out these fucking shoes):

But now it's spread to almost ridiculous degree. Groups like Washed Out, Neon Indian, and Memory Tapes have tapped into the hazy, retro dance feel, like they're trying to soundtrack a party scene from a movie featuring young John Cusacks or Michael J. Foxes. It's being called glo-fi, or chillwave, or whatever the fuck, and it coincides with MTV requesting a pilot for a Teen Wolf series, Heathers possibly being made into a TV show, and people wearing this in public:

I don't understand it. I was born in the 80s and, mercifully, my first memories post-dated them. Unlike my older brother, I never thought a mullet and/or a rat tail were ever a good idea. I didn't ever try to hit on a girl wearing a grey, neon paint-splattered half-sweater with leggings and thirteen million plastic jelly bracelets, and I don't want to begin now.

Can we get past it? This 80s nostalgia is misremembering a time in our country when these two guys:

Could VIDEO TAPE having sex with her:

Let's face facts, the 80s sucked. The fashion sucked, the presidents sucked and, for the most part, the music sucked. For some reason, we keep wanting to view that decade through rose-colored glasses, and reminisce about how you once almost got a chick who looked like Molly Ringwald to give you a handjob behind the bleachers.

Like I said, I blame Donnie Darko.

To bring things full circle, Richard Kelly's latest movie, The Box, is based on a 1986 episode of The Twilight Zone.

Fucking hell.