5 Songs That Prove 1980 Was The Best Year For Yacht Rock

Of all the years offering songs that qualify as yacht rock — that squishy, kinda-sorta soft rock sub-genre that became an unofficially recognized label in 2005 — 1980 stands out as perhaps the finest 12-month span. The new decade provided vintage picks with notes of a laid-back California vibe, sophisticated arrangements, and primo songwriting delivered in a honey-gold glaze. But 1980 was a banner year for easy-going grooves that felt cosmopolitan enough to qualify as prime yacht rock tuneage, many of which became mainstream hits before they were christened "yacht rock." 

We found a zesty array of yacht rock classics that showed up in 1980 to herald the new decade as the start of something easy-going and wonderful. Bouncy tunes about love from Hall and Oates and jazzy party bangers about loser lotharios from Steely Dan (For us, a yacht rock "yes" in this instance, despite some dispute about whether the band's music qualifies) all helped this year make the grade. Relive an easier time with this quintet of glorious pop and soft-rock standards, which showed up on deck for the yacht rock movement and are still sailing high and free today.

Christopher Cross didn't originate the yacht rock sub-genre when he released "Sailing," his 1980 ode to the meditative nature of nautical activities, but he definitely helped clinch it as a viable vibe. The ultra-mellow tones are so lacking in edges they practically ooze out of the speakers. But that's by design; even if Cross wasn't aiming for a peak yacht rock composition, his reverb-heavy vocals paired with flowing, strings-laden backing tracks captured the literal sunshine-and-sea-foam spirit that made it fodder for this category.

Cross gave soft rock lovers a sherbet-colored sunset to sail into with this crackerjack tune. His reward was a career-first No. 1 placement on Billboard's Hot 100 and a history-making clean sweep at the Grammys, including best new artist, best album, and record and song of the year. He's the only artist to ever rack up a quartet of the night's biggest awards, giving the new admiral of yacht rock enough hardware to line his shelves and herald 1980 as a zenith year for a genre that would become a pop culture benchmark. Even today, fans can't hear the opening strains without picturing themselves ocean-bound with a mixed drink in hand and their boat shoes propped and primed for easy-listening bliss — no yacht required.

"Biggest Part of Me" by Ambrosia is one of 1980's sweetest love songs, and maybe the year's glowiest yacht rock entry. The harmonies alone cast listeners into soothing waters with an imagined cocktail in hand, if they weren't up on their feet swaying with their sweet someone. 

"(Sunrise) There's a new sun a-risin'," sings vocalist David Pack as his choir of angels back him up, "(In your eyes) I can see a new horizon / (Realize) That will keep me realizin'/ You're the biggest part of me." There's no holding back on this mid-tempo swooner; it captures the starry-eyed romance that draws boomers and Gen Xers into the spin of yacht rock, no matter how far the genre's finest years recede into the past.

This was one of those "written in a few minutes" masterpieces that songwriter Pack nailed without effort, and the song's sincere heart and near doo-wop delivery carried "Biggest Part of Me" to No. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100. It was a career highlight for these erstwhile yacht rockers, one that matched the earlier success of their No. 3 1978 single, "How Much I Feel." It also put a pin in the map of the genre's most noteworthy works.

There's a touch of controversy regarding whether Steely Dan is part of the yacht rock movement; the band's frontman, Donald Fagen, literally cursed at the prospect of being included in a yacht rock documentary. But their 1980 classic "Hey Nineteen" makes a definite argument in the "pro" column. 

"Hey Nineteen" is a breezy, jazzy number with unexpectedly dark lyrics about an older ex-frat bro experiencing generational disconnect in Scarsdale with a 19-year-old. The singalong bridge refrain that proclaims "The Cuervo Gold / The fine Colombian / Make tonight a wonderful thing" shows off the sad need for Dutch courage just to get through such a rough evening. It's exactly the sort of underbelly character that Steely Dan's songs tended to explore, with enough of a be-bopping arrangement to take the sting off of the loser's seedy pursuits.

However, the major-key melody, superior musicianship, and lilting delivery gloss over the skeevy spirit and suggested self-loathing. There's a percolating happiness in the arrangement that makes the song premium yacht rock fodder. Even if you stick with throwing your own vocals in on "Hey Nineteen / No, we can't dance together / No, we can't talk at all" chorus without realizing just how bleak the message is, you can indulge in a different take on the yacht rock template — one that gave Fagen and Becker a No. 10 hit on the Billboard Hot 100 just after 1980 came to a close.

Hall & Oates dropped one of their best songs, "You Make My Dreams," in 1980 on their LP "Voices," and took their soulful sounds in a jaunty new direction. The slower, smoother grooves of their earlier works made them a perfect addition to the yacht rock club, but this bouncy, energetic bop brought a rousing blast of audio fun to the party. 

From its cronky opening electric piano notes to its "ooh-ooh" chorus, there's nothing but good times rolling here, and the message of finding someone who actually fits the bill is like icing on the soft-rock cake. Daryl Hall thought the lyrics of this timeless bop were a little on the joyful side when he wrote them, something that didn't sit well when the song was in the works. Both he and John Oates ultimately concluded that the song was exactly what it needed to be. 

An audience that loved this infectious yacht rock classic was grateful that the two saw reason; the tune became a No. 5 hit in 1981. It also signaled the duo's upgrade to Hall & Oates 2.0, primed and ready for a new decade that would see them rule the pop charts. Even more than four decades down the line, you'd be hard-pressed to find a peppier feel-good tune in the yacht rock jukebox.

The summer of 1980 saw ultra-smooth guy Boz Scaggs release his silky jazz-esque hit "Jojo" into the yacht rock universe, giving fans of sophisticated pop a dose of something special. The consummate mix of top-shelf contemporary melodies wrapped in shuffling arrangements filled with strings and horns was a balm for fans of elevated musicianship. 

Scaggs' clotted-cream voice delivers a dark-and-deadly tale of a man with a capricious tendency for violence: "Ever so rarely that man in a millon's born / Gentle and soft, but who'd just as soon off you / For looking the wrong way as not." It has everything you could ever want in a yacht rock classic: wailing sax solos, clicky guitars, and heavenly harmonies from an angel's choir of background singers. This was the stuff of yacht rockers' dreams, even if they didn't know what that label meant when the song was in heavy rotation.

"JoJo" helped make the summer of 1980 sizzle and added a No. 17 smash to Scaggs' ongoing collection of adult contemporary hits. Hitmaking songwriter David Foster worked on this one, lending his talents to give the tune the sort of urbane sheen that yacht rockers love to groove to. It may have more of an urban theme than its yacht rock brethren, but the sneaky sense of danger helps make it a unique entry.