In its heyday in the mid to late 1980s, Smash Hits enjoyed a circulation of more than one million passionate readers. The Best of Smash Hits is for all those a glorious, full-color celebration of all the best bits, and even better—some of the worst. Packed with such fascinating pop cultural documentation as the legendary Morrissey and Pete Burns joint interview, a minute-by-minute account of Live Aid, fashion tips from Max Headroom, and memories from those who worked on the publication, this is a must for any 1980s music fans. This collection is the definitive salute to the magazine that once asked David Bowie, "You're not very good at acting, are you?"
I’d stopped reading Smash Hits by the second half of the 80’s but it was still a nice amble down memory lane. However, I would’ve liked to have seen the independent charts page featured, as that was a big draw for me at the time. Likewise, I remember a section where artists chose their favourite songs (I recall Billy MacKenzie, Stuart Adamson and Pete Murphy). Finally, a few more contributions/insights from the writers involved would’ve been interesting. But, hey, you can’t have it all!
Do you grow weary of the world and its mistress (quaffing quails’ eggs and waftin' around in strokesome velvet probably) droning on about the "eighties"? How it was really great in the "eighties"?? That music/bubble perms/nuclear paranoia aren't as good as they were back in the "eighties" ???
Well gerrova it there's nowt else to do these days.
In the faraway, neon lit, snow-washed days of said 80s, Smash Hits was a twice-monthly, 23 carat birrova larf, making the most of a decade of magnificently ludicrous pop stars by putting inverted commas around everything and not taking itself "too" "seriously". Where the swanky rotating door of its cover was as likely to welcome the likes of The Cure and Jesus & Mary Chain (imagine!) as it was Pepsi & Shirlie or Five Star and their industrial-strength shoulder implants. Since the mag cheerfully took the mick out of everyone, including itself, it was a level playing field, and managed to be irreverent and subversive in a way the inkies couldn't. By the end of the decade, however, when Pop had gone from being all-encompassing to meaning purely bubblegum, the magazine inevitably went down the editorial dumper (bah), though sales-wise it peaked with Take That. But from its inception to around 86/87 it provided the nation's mis-spent youth with songwords, posters and battling bands along with a welcome dose of peculiarly British eccentricity.
So take a letter Miss Pringle cos now it's back, back! in a hardback stylee for us all to thrill and thrill again to. Prepare to recall uncle disgusting, Morten Horten Forten Harket, Dames Bowie and Richard and a great big pair of wacky thumbs aloft and feel yourself transported back to a rainy Saturday morning in BHS cafe with a bag of Burger Bites and a raspberry Slush Puppie. Best of all is barmy letters page "Black Type" which once memorably (not to anyone born after 1978 - Ed.) listed among its Top 100 Albums of all-time "Surprisingly Cilla" by Dexys Midnight Runners, "Let's Have a Right Old Knees Up Dahn at the Old Bull and Bush Why Don't We?" by The Velvet Underground with Marvin Gaye and The Best of Lionel Richie (by The Clash).
A generation of thirtysomething toffs owes its sense of humour to Smash Hits.