I Didn’t Land on “King of Rock”, “King of Rock” Landed on Me
1985 was quite simply the most magical year I’ve ever known. I was just a small boy at the time, with already large and highly threatening testicles; but not unlike other children of lesser testicles (or even, none at all), I was completely immersed in the world of a young, yet burgeoning cable channel called Music Television—or MTV, to those in the know. This MTV was quite different then. They actually played music videos, and had people called VJs that introduced them. From what I could gather of VJs, they were mostly just wicked old people—like 22 or something—that tried to act like they knew all kinds of shit about music. Of course, people that old only listen to retarded, faggy music, so I’m sure they had kids around to tell them what was cool. As far as I was concerned, these VJs could just as easily have been replaced by drooling chimps in diapers (and they eventually would be). The music videos themselves were all that really mattered.
These videos were like a relentless visceral assault of guitars, tits, robots, hair, midgets, sweat, more tits, explosions, spandex, kung-fu, monsters, and ass. All in one place; morning, noon, and night. It was pure sensory overload. Sometimes I would get so overwhelmed with excitement that I would pass out while I was watching MTV. My parents didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me, and I was afraid that if I told them I was overwhelmed with excitement, they’d just use it against me, like parents always do when you really like something. I could just imagine the inevitable: “No MTV tonight if you don’t mow the lawn and clean your room.” Fuck all that. I’d even try to pretend I was bored if they walked by while I was watching. “Look at this lameass thing with the stupid tits and robots.” Meanwhile, my muscles are clenched and my eyes are rolling up in my head and a spit bubble’s forming at the side of my mouth, and I’m doing everything in my fleeting power to stop from passing out. “Must…stay…conscious…or be forced…to clean room.” No fuckin’ way. I know you’re wondering if I actually swore this much as a kid. Yes, I did. I grew up in the Boston area, so I was literally dropping F-bombs out the womb. “Let me outta this fuckin’ womb already, Ma. You kiddin’ me with this shit? I got places to be out there.” I don’t talk like that anymore, but I’m trying to stay true to period.
So anyway, as is common among kids with ADD and large, threatening testicles; the initial overwhelming excitement soon began to wear off. I practically had one foot out the door on MTV already; I’m on to video games, and making out, and street hockey, and fireworks and shit like that now. Then something totally unexpected happened that would change my life for at least a couple months. MTV began playing a video for a song named “King of Rock” and this video was like nothing I’d ever seen or heard before. There were no instruments, or singing, or even tits (things I had come to expect in music videos by now); but instead, there were just a couple guys barking out lyrics at each other and another guy that was somehow using record players to produce grinding guitar riffs and bone-jarring bass beats that felt like they shattered the very air around me. A new day had dawned in both music and video, and it’s name: Run-D.M.C.
This music rose up from our country’s inner cities like a bright and newly life-restoring sun; and those hard, crunchy beats and brazen, rebellious lyrics were so damn powerful: “I’m the King of Rock. There is none HIGHER. Sucka MC’s should call me SIRE. To burn my Kingdom, you must use FIRE. And I won’t stop rocking ’till I RETIRE!” Holy-Mother-Of-Fuck. It immediately permeated every facet of American youth culture, and even the whitest of suburban children—myself included—were helpless to not erupt into spontaneous and gravity-defying dance moves at the slightest provocation; always at the ready with what were universally understood to be the impromptu dance-floors of choice: a discarded refrigerator box or sheet of linoleum. We now wore nylon tracks-suits to get good speed and a “whoosh” sound when we executed our windmills and backspins; and the fat laces on our Adidases had to stay untied, so we could kick them off the instant some moves needed to be busted out. You also could no longer address your friends by their birthnames; but instead had to refer to them by their newly adopted “street” handles, which were usually some variation of whatever treat they enjoyed receiving most from the ice cream man that summer. My own handle was Italian Ice. This had nothing to do with being Italian; I just really loved that frosty treat; and also, my tags looked fuckin’ dope: “-II-”.
Of course, all this excitement would eventually die down as well; yet still, to this day, I have an unwavering affinity for music, tits, and breakdancing; and I’ll always remember 1985 as the year that it all came together for the very first time.
Peace out.
-II- (A.K.A. .45 of .45 Caliber Headspace)
37 Responses for "I Didn’t Land on “King of Rock”, “King of Rock” Landed on Me"
I read this twice! Awesome, awesome, awesome! THANKS SO MUCH!!!
You got MTV in 1985! Twas my 4th year of life and I thankfully hadn’t developed large testicles, as that would be quite disturbing.
My childhood was limited to 4 tv channels and we didn’t get cable in this household till I was in my 20’s. This must be the reason I cant breakdance! Or the fact that I have two left feet
I would like video footage of breakdancing skills
ahhh… RUN DMC… I remember them well… Awesome post mate.
My apologies .45, I stumble onto your blog now and then but never manage to leave a mark. Am sure that would change now.
Cheers mate and thank you Jillian for having .45 over here.
I miss MTV cira 1988-ish - when they had um…how you say….MUSIC on it!
I miss 1985 TV, is MTV still on the air?
MTV was so much better then. Today, it and VH-1 suck donkey balls. I wish they’d just go off the air and never return.
@ Jillian- You’re very welcome. I enjoyed the change of pace.
@ Claire- We had it in my neighborhood when it first aired in ‘81. At that time, there wasn’t much to offer in the way of music videos, so it didn’t really hit it’s stride for another couple years. My breakdancing videos have been retired, along with my parachute pants.
@ Arv- Thanks, and no worries, I hardly ever read it myself.
@ meleah rebeccah- ‘88 was a good year too, but it was no ‘85, for sure.
@ Natural- The closest thing now is MTV2, but it still has too many crap reality shows (Rob & Big excluded) and isn’t widely offered.
@ Franklin- Garbage in, garbage out. You know you’re getting old when…
Speaking of VH1:
I got caught up in an awful Reality TV loop last night. I wound up watching 4 episodes of the “The Real World” and “Finding Love with Tila Tequila”.. or whatever it’s called. OMG… I wanted to shoot myself.
These shows are no where near the quality of “Flavor of Love” or “I Love New York”.
Pfft.
1985…I was around 4 at that time and parents wouldn’t let me watch MTV until I was older
Music then did own though.
LMAO @.45! At 57, I have no more worries about getting old, I’m already there LOL
Music tits but no break dancing I’m old…:))
@ Jillian- They really need to step it up a notch. I would SOOO tune in to Real World: Beirut.
@ RegretfulMorning- “Music then did own though.”- Deprived then you not were.
@ Franklin- Not if Social Security has anything to say about it. You should be fit to work for at least 30 more years.
@ robert bourne- Hell, 2 outta 3 ain’t bad. Saved yourself a few ER trips anyway. They don’t call it “break”dancing for nothing.
I also remember the halcyon years of MTV. It all sucks now but back in the day, it was the one thing I loved about having satellite TV.
Shows I used to love were Party Zone, Liquid Television (originally from the BBC) MTV Unplugged, Headbanger’s Ball, Remote Control and 120 Minutes.
Yeah, those were the days although when they started with all the reality television programing (you can thank “The Real World” for that), it kinda went to hell.
Now this is a history lesson you can’t get in any book! MTV is not what it used to be.
How did we get onto VH1?
@ Qelqoth- Well, they still have 120 Minutes, but it’s called Subterranian now and is only on MTV2. Bunim/Murray was to television what P Diddy was to gangsta rap. The beginning of the end.
@ Keli- My history book has been banned in 6 countries already.
@ meleah rebeccah- VH1 was conceived as the “Adult Alternative” (read: retarded, faggy music) version of MTV. In other words, if you loved Hootie and the Blowfish, this channel was for you.
I think those breakdancing videos should be un-retired. You can show us, I think we can keep a secret. Maybe. Sort of. C’mon II, don’t hold out on us.
I’m gagging. Reason number one is cuz .45 thinks Run DMC is cool - major GAG! number 2 is cuz Clairebear was a mere 4 in 1985, and I was an ancient 16……….. and number 3 is that damnit, I never could breakdance!
Yay we want the videos!
@petra I wasn’t four till the end of 85, heh
I can’t break dance either
Very nice.
@ Jillian- I really didn’t have a video camera until High School, but you definitely can’t see those videos.
Also, the camera weighed about 87 lbs. VCRs hadn’t even been around that long yet.
@ petra- Did you not like Run D.M.C. because you were already so old and German? It’s true they didn’t play them on VH1, but “99 Luft Balloons” played nonstop.
@ Claire- I bet you’ve at least tried the backspin a few times.
@ angelcjr- Glad you enjoyed.
Did .45 just get an alter ego? I can get down with this.
And while “King of Rock” is the jam, the real Run DMC track that brings “that thunda” is EASILY “Rockbox.” Some of the beats, riffs, and rhymes on there are just nasty.
Backspin? No I am awful at tennis and golf too, that’s what you meant right?
.45 - you slammed me and it hurt!!! I am not old damnit (nuhuh-I can’t hear you!) and I didn’t like Run DMC cuz they SUCKKKKKKK - being German just makes me a bitch. It doesn’t mean I don’t have good taste.
I like you after all.
@ TOPolk- Clearly someone that knows his shit.
@ Claire- Not Tennis or Golf, but it does involve balls.
@ petra- You know I was playin’. I wasn’t exactly 4 at the time either. And I like you too, even despite your obvious musical impairment.
DAMN! Slam #2! Ouch already! And for the record I am NOt musically impaired, its just that I preferred music such as Whitesnake, and Skynyrd, and Van Halen (notice I did NOT say Van Hagar!)….. yes I am a southern girl, and Run DMC did not rock it properly is all……………
I know! Ping Pong
and leave petra alone! Music snob!
yo Claire! high 5! And knock those balls into oblivion!
high 5! knocking balls into oblivion is my kind of game, hooyah!
I saw the words “balls” and immediately perked up.
@petra- When I mentioned spandex I was, of course, referring to David Lee Roth circa 1984. This wasn’t about hair bands though, it was about the evolution of a genre and subculture. I’d comment further on the South, but that would make three. I’ll just say that my mom lives in Alabama and I refuse to visit her.
@Claire- No, you’re thinking of the ping pong shows in Bangkok. Be careful at those. One of Regretful’s readers got eye herpes: Ping Pong Pus….
@Jillian- high 5!
hey Jillian!! didn’t know where to explain the “joke” to ya, so decided to post it here so you’d see it. lol. Boring has another meaning to it - drilling holes.
so yeah it’s not a typing error! Have a great week!!
@Jasmine- Ooooo, I get it. Now I’m annoyed my mind didn’t pick up the double meaning in the first place! Dammit!
@Jillian: don’t worry about it. I’m also annoyed at myself for the fact that I forgot that this was .45’s guest post and stupidly posted a message for you here. Sorry!
@ Jasmine- Haha… no worries. I think you might be OK
@Jasmine Shanea- As punishment, you must watch 4hrs of Tila Tequila episodes on MTV, because they’re degrading to pretty much everyone.
ewwww I was not thinking about that ping pong show
Bleck!
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