“Hungry Eyes” came on the radio. I turned it up, in fact, I cranked it. I acknowledged the green light, and proceeded through the intersection with great caution. I did not turn it up because I liked the song; no, God forbid, no, I hated the fucking song. As far as I was concerned, Eric Carmen was a lucky piece of shit for that career revival move of riding the coat tails of the success of the overly mediocre movie “Dirty Dancing.” At this moment, I would rather hear this horrible tripe for music than hear another racist rant from my boss.
I suppose I should back up and start from the beginning. Eric Carmen was a member of the pop group Raspberries, a Cleveland quartet who had a mild radio hit with “Go All The Way,” which I adore. How can you not enjoy a song with so many hooks? Unless you’re Vladimir Putin, and in that case I get it. A person so devoid of humor is more of a Dave Matthews Band fan.
Carmen would go on to enjoy a solo career with the hits, “All By Myself” which samples Rachmaninoff’s “Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Opus 18,” and “Never Gonna Fall In Love Again.”
On the other hand, “Hungry Eyes”, is horrific. It’s dialed in machinery. It insults the ears with its insipid melody and clichéd production. It is proof that whores thrive in the music business better than anywhere else. The only relief is that the song is almost over, and it drowns out my boss, Mrs. Grandville, the worst speaking person you ever heard, topically and tonally.