
Some people might think that I’ve gone daft with my pick for song #78 and moreover, its inclusion on this list at all, but I really do love A-Ha’s 1985 single, “The sun always shines on TV”.
To this day, A-Ha is still Norway’s biggest ever musical export and while they have enjoyed continued success in Europe, especially in their native Norway, their album releases have all but been ignored here in North America. That is, save from the explosion and excitement of their debut and most successful album, “Hunting high and low”. Indeed, no place in the world was safe from exposure to that album’s first single, the extremely popular and ubiquitous hit, “Take on me”. I admit to enjoying that single and its infinitely catchier synth melody but I have always preferred “The sun always shines on TV”, their third and less popular single. Both tracks were mainstays on AM top 40 radio and the music video channels at the time and they appeared on all the budget compilation albums that were all the rage back then. In fact, our song of focus today was on one such compilation tape called “Hit energy” that I convinced my parents to buy for me while out shopping at Zellers one night many moons ago. I played the hell out of the cassette, wearing it out in the tape deck of my bedroom’s stereo, but pretty much forgot about it until I sat down to write this post.
I think a big reason for A-Ha’s early success came from their use of the music video during the mid-80s golden age of that medium. Who doesn’t remember the video for “Take on me“, with its use of pencil-sketching animation? For those who don’t, an animated version of the lead singer, Morten Harket, pulls an unwitting, live-action woman sitting in a cafe into a comic book with him, where they are chased around the pages by two thugs. Of course, it all ends happily, until the video for “The sun always shines on TV” picks up the story, the lead singer begins to revert back to his drawing form, and runs off, leaving the heroine alone in the forest. Both of these music videos do an excellent job of putting a story to the respective songs and imbuing them with additional meaning, especially in the case of this latter song, where it only serves to add to the ironic assertion in the song’s title.
Listening to “The sun always shines on TV” now, I feel that it has aged better than its seemingly more robust older sibling. It’s an epic five minutes that starts out all calm and heavenly with synth washes and Harket’s angelic vocals but soon bursts forth with beats and flourishes that would give any Duran Duran hit a run for its money.
Original Eighties best 100 position: 78
Favourite lyric: “I fear the crazed and lonely / Looks the mirror’s sending me these days” Me too, sometimes.
Where are they now?: A-Ha has broken up and re-formed a number of times over the years, released 11 studio albums, and are still active today with their original lineup intact.
For the rest of the Eighties’ best 100 redux list, click here.


bdrmm “Microtonic”: Hull, England based outfit imbues electronic dreams into their shoegaze arsenal for their third outing with brilliant results.
Ezra Furman “Goodbye small head”: Always raw and immediate, the American singer/songwriter’s 10th album is filled with personal tales that at the same time feel quite universal.
Just Mustard “We were just here”: The Irish quintet’s third album smacks equal parts of the haunting goth of Cranes and the noisy experimentation of Sonic Youth.
Amy Millan “I went to find you”: The Stars’ co-frontwoman’s* third solo album moves away from the folk/country of her first two releases and into an indie pop sound that feels like a warm comforter on a cold Canadian winter morning.
Pale Blue Eyes “New place”: More beautiful and danceable dream pop ecstasy from the trio originally from Sheffield, songs that feel blissfully eternal.
Sloan “Based on the best seller”: The Canadian alt-rock icons doing what they do best on their fourteenth studio LP – just keeping on keeping on bringing the rock.
The Veils “Asphodels”: The latest by Finn Andrews’ musical vehicle is typically dramatic and epic, and worthy of another David Lynch soundtrack.




