Huey Lewis & The News’ Sports at 40: Timeless Pop Perfection
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By the time Huey Lewis & the News released their third album Sports on September 15, 1983, the band had completed its transition into a well-oiled pop machine effortlessly churning-out radio hits. At least that’s the way it looked at the time, judging from the results. Sports, which departed from Lewis and company’s original hybrid of bar-band rock and roll, blue-eyed soul and new wave, was a runaway success out of the gate. When all was said and done, Sports reached #1 on the Billboard 200, generated four Top-10 hit singles and, by 1987, was certified a whopping seven times platinum in the United States, to say nothing of its international success.
Apparently, no one saw this coming. When asked by Pitchfork to reflect on the album in 2020, Lewis recalled that “It was a do-or-die record, and we had to have a hit single. We didn’t know we were going to have five of them.” Indeed, Sports did so well that it’s grown into one of those titles that’s practically synonymous with the time period it was made in. The album opens with a slightly synthetic-sounding swooosh that leads into the skeletal, proto-electropop groove of opening cut “The Heart of Rock and Roll.” And when a clanging echo effect accentuates drummer Bill Gibson’s paper-thin snare drum, there’s no question that you’ve arrived squarely in the 1980s.
In so many ways, Sports, which is receiving a new vinyl reissue from Capitol/UMe 40 years to the day after its original release, sits right up there in the pantheon of totemic ‘80s work by the likes of Billy Joel, Pat Benatar, Journey, Styx, The Cars, ZZ Top, the Beverly Hills Cop soundtrack, Loverboy, Survivor and—in the clean guitar intro to “Finally Found a Home”—even Bon Jovi. At many points, it’s impossible to resist comparing the reverb-soaked saxophone solos from sax player/rhythm guitarist Johnny Colla to Bruce Springsteen’s iconic sideman Clarence Clemons. The list of comparisons goes on and on. But what is perhaps most striking about Sports is that the production polish came courtesy of the band itself.
Echoing the spartan emptiness perfected by Devo on their classic pair of 1980-81 releases Freedom of Choice and New Traditionalists, the instruments on exist in an air-tight space, almost as if the band were playing inside a video game. (The throbbing synth that propels “You Crack Me Up,” in fact, might as well have been lifted right from the Freedom of Choice deep cut “It’s Not Right.”) In the intervening years, countless artists have borrowed from this production aesthetic. But the crucial element that Sports reminds us of, particularly in its newly restored vinyl form, is that this music was constructed to be heard out in the actual world. When you hear these songs over the radio—while driving, or at a bar, or anywhere that there’s actual air to fill them out—the music gives-off a most satisfying sense of presence.
It’s not like you had to be there to appreciate these songs, but you need to be there—i.e: in an actual physical setting—to engage this music where it was meant to live, which is in three dimensions. When streaming the album today, the ear reflexively strains to add the warm hue of vinyl that’s missing when you listen in a digital medium. So the vinyl reissue comes not a moment too soon. But even then, compare the difference between, say, hearing “If This Is It” come on over the speakers at the gym to listening in the static environment of your own home and the difference can be like night and day.