Brat Picks: Essential Songs That Soundtracked the Brat Pack
BRATS, the feature-length documentary from director Andrew McCarthy that’s now streaming on Hulu, is an interesting enterprise. BRATS looks at the iconic films of the 1980s that shaped a generation, and the narrative that took hold when their young stars were branded the “Brat Pack,” per a press release.
McCarthy, the actor, runs down all the fellow Brat Packers who want to talk to him, and some offshoot ones as well. Rob Lowe, Demi Moore, Ally Sheedy, Emilio Estevez, Jon Cryer, Lea Thompson and Timothy Hutton—fellow actors he had not seen for over 30 years—speak to the question: What did it mean to be part of the Brat Pack? McCarthy also sits down for a first-time conversation with writer David Blum, who coined the term Brat Pack in a 1985 New York Magazine cover story.
Part therapy, part culture walk through the past, I don’t know if it’s fair to say if this is good or bad; it’s trippy. McCarthy, it seems, held on to some shit, excuse me, feelings, that, oh let’s say, Rob Lowe and Demi Moore most definitely did not. That’s his journey in the film.
But there are two striking things when opening this pandora’s box. One: People ask how POCs could have ever been a fan of these movies, which my big Black ass is at the ready for that answer. With all of these flicks about these rich-poor Lilly white kids feeling like outsiders (cause that’s what is at the root of all of these teen dramas dressed in coming-of-age jokes)—I watched them growing up, homes—it’s built for anybody. Especially POCs—who see themselves as the outsider.
Trust. Molly Ringwald’s character in Pretty In Pink lives across the tracks. Literally. Some pick up on that immediately while others fade out on what they deem a boring camera shot. Perspective.
Second: it’s the music. So hold tight to your panties at the school dance snowflake, we’re about to run down the essential songs that soundtracked The Brat Pack.
Simple Minds – “Don’t You (Forget About Me)”
It’s the anthem of that era of films. Sure, it shows up at the end of The Breakfast Club and we catch a fist in the air from Judd Nelson, who shows up later in the decade alongside Ice-T in New Jack City—who had that on their punch card? I did not.
Only just now Simple Minds’ discography is getting robbed for car commercials which is the back-end signifier that, that song, still holds weight.
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark – “If You Leave”
Killer, heartstring song that’s all over Pretty In Pink. Real quick, if Duckie ain’t your dude, we got some issues, partner. Molly Ringwald and Andrew McCarthy play the teenage cute bomb and don’t forget James Spader got his first run as the heavy, a role he would cash many checks from throughout his career. Annie Potts as the hip record store owner, Andrew “Dice” Clay working the door of the local club, and Harry Dean Stanton, the patron Saint of Hollywood cool at the time playing Ringwald’s father.
But the ultimate secret sauce to this flick? Tak Fujimoto is the cinematographer of the film, making its rewatchability as easy as Duckie slurping down those juice boxes.
David Foster – “Love Theme from St. Elmo’s Fire”
So this song, with the strings and the most annoying sax solo on the planet? Pain in my freaking ass. Yet, it symbolized the Reagan era like no other song. St. Elmo’s Fire is the Brat Pack in full bloom, all up-and-comers, doing this ensemble piece that in a weirder timeline feels like a spiritual redo of Alan Alda’s Four Seasons. But just a younger version. I know, it’s a swing, but I always kinda felt that.
But it gets deeper; this reached No. 15 on the Billboard Hot 100 and No. 3 on the Adult Contemporary chart in 1985. As I said. Reagan.
Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble – “Lenny”
One of the more tender moments in all the Brat Pack films is snuck into Sixteen Candles when Farmer Ted, played by Anthony Michael Hall, and Molly Ringwald’s character are sitting in the student auto body shop, in a dilapidated car, surveying the landmines of what it is to be a teenager and what to do with all these newfound feelings.
It’s a rare moment where these actors are not playing for yuks, and that shift hits for real. Having Stevie Ray Vaughan playing a lullaby of sorts gives viewers the signal that these archetypes—the geeky nerd and the high school sophomore Samantha “Sam” Baker, whose family has forgotten her 16th birthday—have feelings behind whatever type of trope they may be hiding behind.
Director/producer John Hughes had an ear for listening to teenagers, as Ringwald has said many times in interviews over the years. Hughes was always adjusting the script based on the feedback he received from his teenage performers. That’s the stuff that made his films have a heart amid all the puberty takes, and it’s why all his films still resonate today.
Bonus Tracks: Grosse Pointe Blank
Grosse Point Blank was released a good ten years after the Brat Pack movies subsided, and John Cusack plays a hitman going back for his ten-year high school reunion—and the hilarity ensues from there. But I’ve always kind of thought this film is a spiritual coda to the Brat Pack era since Martin Q Blank, Cusack’s character, would have graduated in ’87, in the sweet spot of the music of the Brat Pack era.
The English Beat – “Mirror in the Bathroom”
An absolutely crucial track, and it animates Cusack’s character killing an agent in the hallway of his former High School. You don’t get much better than that. Except for the actual crusher of a song. English Beat, Mang. C’mon!
Dazz Band – “Let It Whip”
Let It Whip-Dazz Band
To my knowledge, this tune doesn’t even get 30 seconds of airtime in the flick, but my ears picked it up wafting so loosely in the periphery. This was a full bump on Black radio in ’82 and I believe it became a pop hit like two years later, cause that’s how it worked back then.
Tones on Tail – “Go!”
I would rewind GPB to the beginning of this long because it was so funny to see all these high school reunion folk in the film starting to move in a certain way. This is a jam, Period.
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John-Paul Shiver has been contributing to Treble since 2018. His work as an experienced music journalist and pop culture commentator has appeared in The Wire, 48 Hills, Resident Advisor, SF Weekly, Bandcamp Daily, PulpLab, AFROPUNK and Drowned In Sound.