I’ve been itching to get back into “journalism,” or something resembling it. I enjoy writing about music (obviously), but my taste in music isn’t exactly current. Or good. So, welcome to the new series, Music Reviews No One Asked For, where I write about whatever I’m listening to at the moment, no matter how old or irrelevant or weird. Anyways, what better to start this series with than the object of my lifelong obsession, Bon Jovi.
Bon Jovi is admittedly not a critical darling. In fact, I’ve heard them described as “the Nickelback of the ’80s.” And to be honest, I don’t entirely disagree. Some of their music can err into cliche territory, especially more recent releases. That being said, they were the band that shaped my entire perspective on music and — let’s be real for a minute — have some catchy-ass songs in their extensive catalogue. In other words, I love this band to death, both for the music itself and for sentimental reasons, but I’m not so much of a stan that I can’t acknowledge their glaring weaknesses.
Anyways, back in 2014, Bon Jovi’s fourth studio album, New Jersey, was rereleased in honor of the band’s 30th anniversary, tacking on almost an entire second album’s worth of demos and outtakes. New Jersey is easily one of my favorite albums in Bon Jovi’s discography, so I couldn’t imagine what could possibly be added to improve upon it, but surprisingly, some of the new tracks were so good, I wasn’t sure why they were ever scrapped. Then again, Jon Bon Jovi didn’t want to release “Livin’ on a Prayer.”
Maybe he’s not the best judge of those kinds of things.
Here’s a track-by-track breakdown of the bonus tracks. I’m not going to review the main album, as that’s probably been done to death by music critics with much better taste than me. This isn’t the Rolling Stone. This is the blog of a random dumbass with a journalism degree and nothing better to do.
“The Boys Are Back in Town”: This is Thin Lizzy’s “The Boys Are Back in Town,” recorded by Bon Jovi. There’s not much else to say about this track, but it kind of slaps.
“Love is War”: Written by Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora as an obvious attempt to write another “You Give Love a Bad Name.” Scrapped because it sounds too much like “You Give Love a Bad Name.” This is one of the best songs in this list, but that’s to be expected, as it’s basically just “You Give Love a Bad Name.” Still not a bad song in its own right, in all fairness.
“Born to Be My Baby” (acoustic): Apparently, Jon believed this song would have hit number one if this version had been released, and I don’t disagree. This version benefits from a Spanish-influenced solo and more prominent backing vocals from Richie. Then again, there aren’t many Bon Jovi songs that wouldn’t be improved with more backing vocals from Richie.
“Homebound Train” (demo): The official version of this song was one of my favorites as a child, although I don’t know why. It’s a little forgettable next to all the other songs on New Jersey. The demo is okay. Some harmonica, some weak “woo-woos” from Jon that are sort of amusing, but overall nothing special.
“Judgement Day”: The lyrics of the band’s ’90s era utilized quite a bit of religious imagery, so this feels almost like a precursor to that. Like a lot of Bon Jovi songs, nothing especially profound is espoused, but it’s a certifiable earworm.
“Full Moon High”: The opening line “penny for your thoughts now, baby,” was recycled in Jon’s solo release “Miracle,” but I can’t give him too much grief for self-plagiarizing, as I’ve used lyrics from scrapped material in new songs. Also quite glaring is how the prechorus has aged like absolute milk in the same way as “Baby It’s Cold Outside.” “You say stop, I say go, I say yeah, you say no” comes across as a little skeevy in a post-#metoo culture. Otherwise, it’s one of the stronger songs in this list, lyrically.
“Growing Up the Hard Way”: They really wanted those “na na nas” on the album, because I swear I’ve heard it on at least three different songs already.
As a songwriter, JBJ’s strength lies in character building. You want to cheer for Tommy and Gina. You want to chill with Captain Crash and the Beauty Queen from Mars. You want Joey Keys to find a better life and for the protagonists from “Someday I’ll Be Saturday Night” get out of their funk. This song hits a lot of those same notes. The young groupie escaping from an abusive father, the would-be golden child whose drunk driving derailed his otherwise charmed life. Bon Jovi loves to create characters and subsequently break your heart for them.
“Let’s Make It Baby”: Ah yes, the triumphant return of the talkbox, first introduced in “Livin’ on a Prayer.” I have to admit I have a soft spot for this particular guitar effect. Maybe I have a Freudian excuse for this, as Peter Frampton was certainly the catalyst of my sexual awakening.
DO YOU BLAME ME?
Anyways, speaking of things that are sexual, Bon Jovi was, for the most part, not. Sexy, perhaps, but compared to their contemporaries, Jonny and the boys look like nuns, so much so that my mom didn’t even bat an eye when I got interested in them as a youngin’. This song, though? This is the song I’m certain she’s happy I didn’t discover as a child. If, by the end of the song, there’s any doubt as to what it’s about, the ever-cheeky Richie makes it absolutely clear in the last five seconds.
“Love Hurts”: Not a cover of the song made famous by Nazareth but a good song nonetheless. Out of all of these tracks, this one is probably the most likely to get stuck in my head. Not a whole lot more to add, except that it’s a classic Bon Jovi bop.
“Backdoor to Heaven”: A classic mid-tempo ’80s ballad that may or may not be about butt stuff. This might actually be my favorite on here, if I’m honest. The desperation in Jon’s voice, coupled with those soaring harmonies from Richie, it’s just … ugh, chef’s kiss. This one should absolutely have made it to New Jersey. What the heck, guys?
“Now and Forever”: I’m sure if I heard this at any other time in Bon Jovi’s history, I’d write this off as just another vaguely cliche song. Having heard it after Richie’s departure, I just …
I’m not at all emotional about this.
Anyways, “a heart’s just a heart and songs have to end, dreams will be dreams but friends will be friends now and forever” just hits differently.
Come back Richie. We need you.
“Wild is the Wind” and “Stick to Your Guns” (demos): My two favorites from the album proper, but the demos don’t really add much. They’re literally just the songs we know and love, but less polished and not as inspired. I didn’t even feel the need to cover them separately. If you’re at all curious about these, don’t be. Just listen to the official versions. Take my word on this.
“House of Fire”: If you hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have guessed that this was written by Alice Cooper and Joan Jett. This feels like a Bon Jovi song. That’s really the only thing I have to say about this.
“Does Anybody Really Fall In Love Anymore?”: Repeat after me, Jon: It’s okay to lower the key. If you can’t reach the high notes, it’s okay to drop it down a half-step or so. It’s not a big deal. Richie and David are big boys. They’ll figure out how to play it.
As an aside, this song was also recorded by Cher, because there was a weird time during the late ’80s when Bon Jovi and Cher collaborated. Anyways, Cher is an absolute queen, and even when recorded by her, this song is kind of boring. “Love is War” would have been a better choice for her. In fact, I’d gladly saw off my own toe with a nail file to hear her cover it. Seriously.
Cher if you agree.
“Diamond Ring” (demo): I almost skipped over this song. The official version was released with These Days years later, and it was the only song I didn’t really like off that album as a child. After all, it was slow and boring, and it was about getting married and boring stuff, unlike “My Guitar Lies Bleeding in My Arms,” which was about more kid-friendly problems like, uh, contemplating suicide.
I’m glad I didn’t pass this one up, though, as the demo is a thousand times more badass than the version that actually saw a proper release. Even without being explicitly about sex, this song manages to feel almost as horny as “Let’s Make It Baby.” Those guitars. That bass. Jon’s rasp. Good Lord.
Wait, was Bon Jovi actually the thirstiest band of the 1980s?
JESSA JOYCE 