A brief discourse on Huey Lewis and the News by Hugh Lewis of Huron, SD

I want a new drug
One that wont make me sick
One that wont make me crash my car
Or make me feel three feet thick

 

Don’t pretend you can’t remember how it goes…Sing it with me.

 

One that wont make me nervous
Wondering what to do
One that makes me feel like I feel when I’m with you
When I’m alone with you

 

All alone with you, babe…

 

Face it, you can’t name a more infectious tune. Well, not unless you dipped into 1985’s Tears For Fears masterpiece, “Everybody Wants to Rule the World.” Though in my opinion it’s unfair to compare the two.

 

Now I know there are those who would argue that Huey Lewis and the News were not the best band to emerge from the Eighties. They would have you believe the title belongs to Genesis or Hall and Oates. Maybe even The Eurythmics. But any music fan will tell you the best adult contemporary act of the decade belongs to Mr. Lewis and company. Hands down.

 

Some one once asked me, “Man, why do like Huey Lewis so dang much?”

 

I’ll tell you the same thing I told them.

 

“Screw off.”

 

Seriously, don’t be asking me stupid questions like that. Don’t pretend to be interested in a very important part of my life and then make fun of it. Okay? Huey Lewis and the News wrote the soundtrack to my life. They helped me believe in the power of love and took me back in time. They also got me laid. A lot.

 

Not every band has that power.

 

Simply Red never had it. Neither did Mike and the Mechanics. Heck, I bet if you really pressed a Don Henley fan, they’d say the same thing: not even he had the talent to change people’s lives. Maybe when he was with the Eagles, but certainly not on his own.

 

The fact is, what Huey Lewis and the News had was a talent that only comes along once in a generation. 

 

So why, you ask, are they not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame! Well why should they be? They’ve only won two Grammy’s, sold millions upon millions of albums and been nominated for an Academy Award. Yeah, you’re right, why should they be in the freaking Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?

 

Explain to me how REM and Richie Valens are in, but Huey Lewis and the News isn’t? Can you? ‘Cause I damn well can’t. I mean, come on! A one hit wonder and REM? Michael Stipe is the most overrated dink in music. That’s me in the corner? What kind of lyric is that?  

I suppose get a little worked up sometimes. But you know what? I won’t apologize for it. No sir. No way am I apologizing for defending the greatest damn band of all time. We’re connected. I have to.

 

Ok, technically my name is Hugh, but no one calls me that. Not since ’82 anyway. Of course that’s when they first hit the big time with Picture This. A lot of people make the mistake of thinking that’s their debut album. It’s not. That’d be their eponymous, Huey Lewis and the News which hit the airways in 1980. From that point on it was full rock ahead. 

 

You want to talk about some good times, try being Huey Lewis in the Eighties. All I had to do to get laid back then was pop my collar and introduce myself. Sure, I could have got the ladies on my own, but when they heard the name…let’s just say they were eager to check out my water-bed. 

 

These days when I introduce myself, people usually laugh and bring up that stupid movie where the one guy is named Michael Bolton – like the douchebag singer. Like I find the comparison funny or something. For one thing, Michael Bolton is no damn Huey Lewis. Okay? Bolton’s a soft rock twat with bad hair. And he’s a tenor.

 

Anyway, they’re all like, “Ha ha, Huey Lewis. Like that band?” And even though I would like nothing more than to kick the asshole’s teeth in, I don’t want to soil Huey’s good name or reputation, so I usually just smile politely and reply, “Yep.” I mean, if they started making fun of the guy it’d obviously be a different story, because not only would they be insulting the real Huey Lewis, but they’d be insulting me too. And if there is one thing we Huey’s don’t do is put up with snot nose jerks who aren’t old enough to appreciate the man’s genius.

 

Listen, all I’m saying is that yeah, being named Huey Lewis was pretty damn sweet – it still is – but it also comes with responsibility. Do I resent Huey for the burden his fame has placed on me? Absolutely not.

 

I’m just thankful my name isn’t Bruce Hornsby.