5 Rock Songs From 1983 That Sound Even Cooler Today

1983 was a year defined by now-classic music. At the top of the heap in terms of commercial success was the King of Pop himself Michael Jackson, whose seminal 1982 album "Thriller" produced six charting singles in 1983 and went on to become one of the biggest-selling records of all time, cementing his place as an all-time music legend.

It was also the year that "pop went crazy," according to Rolling Stone, and the MTV generation was treated to the arrival of a great number of new pop acts, including Madonna and Cyndi Lauper, and crossover tracks from genres like hip-hop thanks to acts such as Run-DMC. 1983 saw what critics described as the Second British Invasion, when bands such as the Police, Duran Duran, and Culture Club crossed the Atlantic and became fixtures on both MTV and the Billboard charts.

And when it comes to rock in particular, there is a huge wealth of music to discover — or rediscover — from 1983. Some tracks have understandably grown dated with the passing years due to production techniques, lyrics that make modern listeners cringe with embarrassment, or simply the fact that they were products of their time. However, others have aged incredibly well. Here are five rock tracks from '80s icons whose legends have only grown with time; each of these tracks has a wow factor that accompanies that "I-can-believe-they-were-doing-that-way-back-then" feeling, as well as acclaim from both fans and critics which, if anything, has grown down the years.

David Bowie was the ultimate rock chameleon, willing to overhaul his entire persona to take his art in fresh directions that influenced him. But in the early 1980s, Bowie seemingly had his eye on one thing: dominating the charts.

"Let's Dance" was the biggest monster hit of his career, a dancefloor filler that cemented Bowie's reputation as a superstar in the U.S. and set the tone for much of the music that would come from Billboard-charting artists throughout the rest of the decade. "Let's Dance" was the lead single of the 1983 album of the same name, for which Bowie enlisted the help of Chic's funk virtuoso Nile Rodgers, who acted as co-producer and built upon Bowie's previous embrace of soul in the mid-1970s to deliver a crowd-pleasing album that was light on concept and experimentation but heavy on hits.

The album's title track is undoubtedly its best song — indeed, it would be the last truly great song that Bowie would release for decades. A shimmering, forward-thinking track that took as many cues from the Beatles as it did from the recent disco explosion, "Let's Dance" is full of unforgettable moments, including its adrenaline-inducing intro, climactic hooks, and Bowie's epic vocal performance. Looking back from the 2020s, "Let's Dance" seems to have anticipated many of the biggest artists of the 21st century: Daft Punk, for example, even took an idea directly from Bowie and employed Rodgers to provide guitar on its 2013 smash "Get Lucky," to similar worldwide success. The Weeknd, Dua Lipa, and more all owe the song a debt, and the track continues to hold its own among modern releases.

1983 wasn't short on charismatic British solo artists, and though few could claim to have reached the levels of popularity David Bowie enjoyed during the period, others gave listeners performances that remain just as iconic. Billy Idol's "Rebel Yell," for instance, proved to be a seismic album that propelled the former Generation X frontman to solo stardom.

The title track built on Idol's success the previous year with his breakthrough solo track "White Wedding" in marrying his punk aesthetic with fashionable synths, shiny pop production, and danceable hooks to create a blend of genres that appealed to punk, rock, and pop listeners alike. With an ecstatic chorus featuring Idol bellowing, "In the midnight hour, she cries more, more, more/ With a rebel yell, she cries more, more, more," it's a rousing track that blends romance and rebellion, sex and partying — a true crossover record that also happens to be a dance floor classic. '"Rebel Yell" hit No. 46 on the Billboard Hot 100, 10 places lower than "White Wedding," and though he would have bigger hits to come throughout the 1980s, looking back, none achieves the timeless blend of punk, hard rock, and new wave that has made the song a continued favorite in the 21st century.

Talking Heads had gone from strength to strength in the late 1970s and early 1980s working with the legendary producer and former member of Roxy Music, Brian Eno. But by 1983, Eno and the band led by David Byrne had parted ways. Thankfully, Talking Heads retained much of the controlled weirdness that characterized the Eno era as well as its growing ear for what makes earworm pop. Look no further than "Burning Down the House" for proof. 

The lead track from the band's 1983 studio album "Speaking in Tongues" demonstrates Byrne's move playful side after the dystopian narrative work on tracks such as "Life During Wartime," from 1979's "Fear of Music." We now know "Burning Down the House" grew out of the band's love of funk: The title is reportedly lifted from a crowd chant that the band's members heard at a Parliament, Bootsy Collins, and Brides of Funkenstein concert, artists that also influenced the sonic palette underpinning the Talking Heads' highest charting track.

But rather than simply mimic funk, "Burning Down the House" succeeds in channeling the band's art school roots, with Byrne's barked vocals and the track's space-age synth providing a strange counterpoint to the earthy backing vocals and bass line. Few could have expected the song to enjoy such longevity. With the instruments processed in the most beautifully '80s way possible, it is a track that oozes nostalgia but remains fresh as a daisy, offering an artsy take on funk that sounds utterly modern.

Your favorite indie band's favorite indie band, Manchester post-punk institution The Fall was deep into its imperial phase in the early 1980s. Constantly prolific since 1977, the band had released a number of critically acclaimed albums and a bevy of singles to establish itself as one of the most interesting, idiosyncratic, and divisive acts in the U.K. alternative scene. Arguably the coolest song the Mark E. Smith-led group released in 1983 year was "Wings," a track that showed Smith at the height of his lyrical abilities and which has lost little of its weirdness over the years.

Over Craig Scanlon's hypnotic, skewed guitar riff and Steve Hanley's rumbling bass, Smith tells a Lovecraftian tale of a man who purchases a pair of "flabby wings" that allow him to travel through space and time. In other hands, telling a fantastical narrative on wax might come across as pretentious. But with Smith's trademark sneer and grimier details including the shooting of a "stupid sergeant" under a Manchester bridge, its post-punk cool, which has influenced modern groups including Pavement, Parquet Courts, Fontaines D.C., and more, remains utterly captivating.

It is difficult to choose the greatest song released by The Fall in 1983. (That was the year the band released its seminal album "Perverted by Language," as well as three classic singles.) But "Wings" offers a showcase of what made The Fall so distinctive: intentional repetition, an incredibly well-drilled rhythm section, and Smith at his most lyrically dextrous.

Metallica has been credited with single-handedly pioneering thrash metal, and in retrospect nothing in the band's discography has proven as foundational to the genre as "Seek & Destroy," a cut from the band's 1983 debut album "Kill 'Em All." A fan favorite for more than 40 years featuring a call-and-response element that has made it an evergreen fixture of Metallica live shows, the track employs military combat imagery with menace and anger to vent the band's frustration with the Los Angeles club scene in the 1980s, where Metallica struggled to find an audience before relocating to San Francisco.

It is considered one of the band's most fiercely aggressive tracks, exhibiting Metallica's knack for groove-led, heavy riffs, which appear one after another. It is an incredibly accomplished song for a band whose members were all around the age of 20 at the time of its recording, and it is brimming with with youthful, pent-up rage. It's as raw a listen today as it was four decades ago. Any young guitarist looking to channel their anger into music would do well to look here for inspiration on how to also make it cool.