August 6, 2013 will mark the fourth anniversary of John Hughes' untimely passing at the young age of 59 from a heart attack during an early morning stroll in New York City while visiting family. Although the shock, disbelief and sadness from his death has lessened considerably for me, I remain compelled to compose my annual tribute to him as he is paramount to why I am a writer in the very first place. This year, instead of focusing upon a particular film or favorite scenes from Hughes' oeuvre, I wanted to zero in on a specific and crucial piece of his filmmaking aesthetic that spoke, and continues to speak, volumes to me and that essential quality into sheer essence and excellence of his finest work is undoubtedly the music!
HUGHES MUSIC
Simple Minds. Orchestral Maneuvers In The Dark. Psychedelic Furs. Everything But The Girl. Oingo Boingo. Kirsty MacColl. The Dream Academy. New Order. Tortoise. And so many, many more...
At various points throughout my life, I have embraced all of those aforementioned musical artists. Some may have been the right music at the right time and others have become long standing musical fixtures that I have listened to and treasured over and again. No matter if I had listened to them for brief periods or if I have followed them throughout the decades, truth be told, I do not believe that I would have heard of many of these bands and artists or would have even given them a chance if not for John Hughes. For all that Hughes has given (and continues to give) to me throughout my life via his writing and his films, my musical universe would have remained considerably smaller if not for his massive influence.
"The only reason I got into movies
was because I had no music talent."
John Hughes made that admission during an interview with writer Gil Kaufman for MTV.com which was published on-line one day after Hughes passed away. The bulk of that particular article only continued to confirm what had already become industry legend: John Hughes was a music fanatic. The stories were often reported in press junket interviews and later during remembrances from longtime collaborators and friends and every single one of them, from the time I was a teenager to this very day, left me enraptured. There were the tales of Hughes rapidly writing his screenplays to blaring music whether in his home or his offices, which were also filled floor to ceiling with his vast music collections. Hughes once cited The Clash and The Beatles as his favorite bands and throughout the 56 day shoot of "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (1986), he reportedly listened to "The Beatles" a.k.a. "The White Album" every single day. And then, there were the stories of his frequent trips to Chicago's legendary Wax Trax record store (the very location which supposedly inspired the record store in 1986's "Pretty In Pink"), where he first purchased the then forward leaning independent music that peppered his films.
According to beautifully written and deeply fascinating passages in Author Susannah Gora's wonderful book You Couldn't Ignore Me If You Tried, Hughes' own teen years were spent being a self-described "frustrated guitarist" as well as a "music snob" who wanted to always be musically ahead of the curve of his peers as he refused to listen to Top 40 stations and read England's "Melody Maker" magazine and ordered music from overseas to get the jump on British artists before anyone else. Hughes' musical tastes were wide ranging from rock and roll and its offshoots of punk, new wave and all the way though to electronic and industrial to folk to country and western, blues, jazz and classical. But in 1983, when I was 14 years old, I had not yet heard of John Hughes (despite having seen that summer's "National Lampoon's Vacation" and "Mr. Mom," both of which he had written) and my musical universe was only just beginning to develop.
I was on the cusp of beginning high school in the fall of 1983. Music had already existed as a beloved and permanent fixture in my life. I was playing the drums and was then playing in my rock band Ground Zero. By this time, I had worshiped at the altar of The Beatles and found my musical home within the bands and artists that populated Chicago's classic rock radio stations, while finding a certain allegiance with 1970s progressive rock acts, with Genesis and Rush existing as my personal favorites. The genre of new wave had not quite taken hold of me at that time (and I was in fact a tad suspicious of them) but there were groups I gravitated towards, like The Police. But beyond that, I really never went any further. As I look back, I see how narrow my musical tastes actually were and while I was somewhat aware of some bands that were considerably left of center, if they did not happen to fit within a certain musical genre that I had already embraced, I tended not to pay them any attention.
With regards to movies, I was already well on my way with that aspect of my education as I was trying to watch anything and everything that passed my way. In the Spring of 1984, near the end of my Freshman year, "Sixteen Candles" was released to theaters and while I still had no idea of who John Hughes was, I did have scant knowledge of it being filmed just outside of Chicago in the Northern suburbs and by being a film about and being marketed towards teenagers, my interest had been piqued. The surprisingly strong reviews from the late, great Gene Siskel and the late, great Roger Ebert (I still cannot believe that all of these major influences are now no longer with us) were also a major plus as the teen film genre had rightfully received no critical respect due to much of the genre existing as pandering puerile fodder that had no understanding of the teenage experience whatsoever.
One night, on the WGN news, Roy Leonard, the film critic on that channel, was reviewing the film and it was there on which I saw my first film clip from "Sixteen Candles." It was the scene at the high school dance when Samantha Baker (Molly Ringwald) stares longingly at the seemingly eternal out of reach dreamboat Jake Ryan (Michael Shoeffling). The song to accompany her heartache...Spandau Ballet's breathless ballad "True." Hearing that song in that film clip was a surprise as that very song was all over the radio at that specific moment in time. To that end, "Sixteen Candles" felt to me particularly up to the minute and therefore, it was something that was speaking to me even before I realized it. By the time I did finally see the film on videocassette that fall, "Sixteen Candles" had changed my life and to date, I believe it to be not only one of the funniest, most quotable films I have ever seen, it remains the most romantic by a mile. And as much as the performances and Hughes brilliant writing and direction created this piece of move magic, it cannot be said enough how music the music added to that film's incredible artistic success.
"SIXTEEN CANDLES": THE JOHN HUGHES RADIO STATION
Hearing rock music in films was certainly not a new thing for me by the time of "Sixteen Candles" but I would gather that at that time, it was indeed the very best usage of rock music I had experienced in a teen film to date, even eclipsing the stellar work achieved in Director Amy Heckerling and Writer Cameron Crowe's "Fast Times At Rigemont High" (1982) and Director Martha Coolidge's "Valley Girl" (1983). If "Sixteen Candles" had any peer in this regard, I would say that it operated on the same level of genius as Writer/Director George Lucas' seminal "American Graffiti" (1973), as the music was plastered throughout the entire film as sonic wallpaper that essentially became an additional character as well as a storytelling device. What John Hughes accomplished was extraordinary and I still marvel at it today, but to my ears, Hughes' work with the music of "Sixteen Candles," all of which he handpicked himself while also working in collaboration with Composer Ira Newborn, was to create a sonic palate that was as orchestrated as the slapstick comedy on screen, the crackerjack dialogue, and the full emotional landscape of the story while supporting and even commenting upon the action from one end to the other.
Just look at the opening sequence set during the daily whirlwind of the Baker family household. After being blasted with the sound of an air-raid siren once the morning newspaper hits the front porch, Hughes immediately takes us into the eye of the Baker family tornado with misplaced briefcases, sibling battles, bathroom territorial wars, befuddled parents and the additional stress of an upcoming wedding to boot. But aside from the dialogue, I want you to just listen to the scene. Listen to how we are hit with AC/DC's "Snowballed" when pre-pubescent smart mouth Mike (Justin Henry) enters the scene but then abruptly changes to Darlene Love's "Today I Met The Boy I'm Gonna Marry" the moment we are introduced to bride-to-be Ginny (Blanche Baker) and then back to AC/DC again once her bedroom door closes sharply. From here, we are presented with our introduction to 16 year old Samantha, studying her body in the mirror while listening to the radio, which is playing Paul Young's "Love Of The Common People." The film has not even hit ten minutes and Hughes has quickly and deftly demonstrated how to utilize music to help an audience fully understand who these people are, how they behave and their respective inner states. So impressive and it just sets the stage for everything yet to arrive.
After Samantha's classic petulant statement of incredulous disbelief ("I can't believe it. They fucking forgot my birthday!), Hughes brings us what is essentially his opening credit sequence fanfare, Kajagoogoo's eponymous theme song, and from this point onwards, the music of "Sixteen Candles" ping-pongs from the rambunctious new wave of Oingo Boingo's "Wild Sex In The Working Class," The Specials' "Little Bitch," The Revillos "Rev Up," and The DiVinyls "Ring Me Up," to the hard rock of Night Ranger's "Rumors In The Air" and Billy Idol's "Rebel Yell," David Bowie's classic "Young Americans," the wistful romantic pop of Nick Heyward's "Whistle Down The Wind" and Tim Finn's "Growing Pains," the raucous punk rock ravings of Patti Smith's "Gloria," a smattering of classic television and movie theme songs ("Peter Gunn," "Dragnet," "The Godfather") and even a kazoo version of Prince's apocalyptic classic "1999" to accompany the Dante's Inferno hellhole of the school bus.
Connecting all of those musical puzzle pieces together like the strongest of glue is Ira Newborn's film score which itself zig-zags from broad and brassy to doo wop vocal harmonies to sensitive string sections to tasteful new wave textures with effortless ease. And then, Hughes hits us all with a whammy at the film's conclusion when Samantha and Jake at long last unite with the woozy synthetic dream pop of The Thompson Twins' "If You Were Here." No other song would have possibly been more perfect to cement the ache and wonderment of teen love and wish fulfillment than that song. The merging of this music with the images and performances made you feel as if you were falling in love as rapidly and as completely as Samantha and Jake and I have never seen anything more blissful than that moment on screen.
John Hughes' "Sixteen Candles" announced the arrival of a unique creative talent in full auspicious and audacious style as with this one film, he had firmly established his own film universe. Hughes' slapstick and situational farce was Shakespearean, his brilliantly heightened dialogue was snappy, sharp, smart and everything we wished that we could possibly say in the exact ways we wished that we could say them, and most importantly the emotional states of his teenage characters were fully drawn and completely respectful of his audience especially in regards to matters of love and sex as Hughes presented characters that were more romantic than sexual. And then, there was the music! Man, the music!! The music of this film, and for most of John Hughes' films hereafter, courageously and defiantly showcased the very music he adored himself and then inserted it all into his film universe as if this music is what EVERYONE just naturally listened to. By doing so, John Hughes appointed himself as a pop-cultural tastemaker and what incredible musical taste he had.
While watching "Sixteen Candles," it was as if we were hearing a John Hughes radio broadcast during which he, as the DJ, would spin the knob up and down the dial, taking records on and off, all the while finding the perfect pieces to augment the characters he created and the situations he had placed them into. There are 31 song selections in all of "Sixteen Candles," a massive collection certainly, and somehow, every single selection was perfect, even when they should not have been. Hughes' work within the film's two party sequences were especially outstanding as song after song appeared to help keep up the film's overall momentum while also underscoring every character's inner motivations. And still, he always knew when exactly to slow things down and find moments that were quieter and more meditative like the classic auto shop sequence where Samantha and The Geek (Anthony Michael Hall) share secrets, hopes, wishes and fears while taking a respite from the school dance and Stevie Ray Vaughan's gorgeous instrumental "Lenny" graces the six minutes with some elegant blues.
With everything that I loved so dearly about "Sixteen Candles," I fell so deeply in love with the sound and the overall musicality of the film. While I had already loved the more traditional film scores of John Williams and I was completely blown away by Tangerine Dream's electronic film scores to Michael Mann's "Thief" (1981) and Paul Brickman's "Risky Business" (1983), John Hughes taught me to begin to pay stricter attention to how music was, and could be, utilized in the movies. In "Sixteen Candles," Hughes created a cinematic musical universe that functioned much like how sample heavy hip-hop albums are today--seemingly disparate elements fitted together to create a musically resonant whole. That unique quality makes "Sixteen Candles" a film that is a joy to listen to as well as view. Beyond that, what John Hughes gave to me through the music of "Sixteen Candles" was the very music I urgently began to seek out for myself.
If John Hughes' work with music within "Sixteen Candles" was akin to a radio show or a cinematic jukebox filled with a collection of great singles, Hughes' second film, "The Breakfast Club" (1985), marked the point when he seemed to begin to think of his films, and the music contained within, as full albums (in fact, the iconic one-sheet poster for "The Breakfast Club" was reportedly designed to resemble an album jacket).After Samantha's classic petulant statement of incredulous disbelief ("I can't believe it. They fucking forgot my birthday!), Hughes brings us what is essentially his opening credit sequence fanfare, Kajagoogoo's eponymous theme song, and from this point onwards, the music of "Sixteen Candles" ping-pongs from the rambunctious new wave of Oingo Boingo's "Wild Sex In The Working Class," The Specials' "Little Bitch," The Revillos "Rev Up," and The DiVinyls "Ring Me Up," to the hard rock of Night Ranger's "Rumors In The Air" and Billy Idol's "Rebel Yell," David Bowie's classic "Young Americans," the wistful romantic pop of Nick Heyward's "Whistle Down The Wind" and Tim Finn's "Growing Pains," the raucous punk rock ravings of Patti Smith's "Gloria," a smattering of classic television and movie theme songs ("Peter Gunn," "Dragnet," "The Godfather") and even a kazoo version of Prince's apocalyptic classic "1999" to accompany the Dante's Inferno hellhole of the school bus.
Connecting all of those musical puzzle pieces together like the strongest of glue is Ira Newborn's film score which itself zig-zags from broad and brassy to doo wop vocal harmonies to sensitive string sections to tasteful new wave textures with effortless ease. And then, Hughes hits us all with a whammy at the film's conclusion when Samantha and Jake at long last unite with the woozy synthetic dream pop of The Thompson Twins' "If You Were Here." No other song would have possibly been more perfect to cement the ache and wonderment of teen love and wish fulfillment than that song. The merging of this music with the images and performances made you feel as if you were falling in love as rapidly and as completely as Samantha and Jake and I have never seen anything more blissful than that moment on screen.
John Hughes' "Sixteen Candles" announced the arrival of a unique creative talent in full auspicious and audacious style as with this one film, he had firmly established his own film universe. Hughes' slapstick and situational farce was Shakespearean, his brilliantly heightened dialogue was snappy, sharp, smart and everything we wished that we could possibly say in the exact ways we wished that we could say them, and most importantly the emotional states of his teenage characters were fully drawn and completely respectful of his audience especially in regards to matters of love and sex as Hughes presented characters that were more romantic than sexual. And then, there was the music! Man, the music!! The music of this film, and for most of John Hughes' films hereafter, courageously and defiantly showcased the very music he adored himself and then inserted it all into his film universe as if this music is what EVERYONE just naturally listened to. By doing so, John Hughes appointed himself as a pop-cultural tastemaker and what incredible musical taste he had.
While watching "Sixteen Candles," it was as if we were hearing a John Hughes radio broadcast during which he, as the DJ, would spin the knob up and down the dial, taking records on and off, all the while finding the perfect pieces to augment the characters he created and the situations he had placed them into. There are 31 song selections in all of "Sixteen Candles," a massive collection certainly, and somehow, every single selection was perfect, even when they should not have been. Hughes' work within the film's two party sequences were especially outstanding as song after song appeared to help keep up the film's overall momentum while also underscoring every character's inner motivations. And still, he always knew when exactly to slow things down and find moments that were quieter and more meditative like the classic auto shop sequence where Samantha and The Geek (Anthony Michael Hall) share secrets, hopes, wishes and fears while taking a respite from the school dance and Stevie Ray Vaughan's gorgeous instrumental "Lenny" graces the six minutes with some elegant blues.
With everything that I loved so dearly about "Sixteen Candles," I fell so deeply in love with the sound and the overall musicality of the film. While I had already loved the more traditional film scores of John Williams and I was completely blown away by Tangerine Dream's electronic film scores to Michael Mann's "Thief" (1981) and Paul Brickman's "Risky Business" (1983), John Hughes taught me to begin to pay stricter attention to how music was, and could be, utilized in the movies. In "Sixteen Candles," Hughes created a cinematic musical universe that functioned much like how sample heavy hip-hop albums are today--seemingly disparate elements fitted together to create a musically resonant whole. That unique quality makes "Sixteen Candles" a film that is a joy to listen to as well as view. Beyond that, what John Hughes gave to me through the music of "Sixteen Candles" was the very music I urgently began to seek out for myself.
"THE BREAKFAST CLUB" AND BEYOND: THE MOVIE AS ALBUM
Hughes repeated the sonic formula of "Sixteen Candles" for his third film "Weird Science" (1985) to great effect and with a slightly harder edge (thanks to music by Van Halen, Lords Of The New Church, Ratt and Killing Joke among others), possibly to reflect the raunchier and more testosterone elements of that film. But the music of "The Breakfast Club" showcased Hughes' growth with mature, complex themes, a greater sense of nuance and mood shaping, a technique he continued to utilize over and again as he worked with specific musical collaborators to ensure that each and every film obtained a signature sound.
While Hughes continued to work with Ira Newborn for his broader comedies like "Weird Science," "Ferris Bueller's Day Off," "Planes, Trains And Automobiles" (1987) and "Uncle Buck" (1989), Hughes began to work even more closely with the musicians and producers he adored from the alternative rock world. With "The Breakfast Club," Hughes collaborated with Producer Keith Forsey who composed the film's score (his pretty "Love Theme" essentially picks up where The Thompson Twins left off) and had a hand in writing and producing all of the film's songs, including the now iconic "Don't You (Forget About Me)," the song that gave Simple Minds its breakthrough (and inspired me to discover their albums). As Hughes recalled in a 1986 interview with the Chicago Sun Times regarding Forsey's crucial involvement with the film and this song in particular, "Keith watched rehearsals, read the script, met the actors, hung around with us, then went off and wrote this song. You can't take the song out of the movie and can't take the movie out of the song." Amen...
For "Pretty In Pink," Hughes with Director Howard Deutch delved even further to make the music and the film congeal more completely. As Composer Michael Gore provided the film's more traditional romantic score, Hughes achieved something even greater by beginning to utilize the songs themselves as the film's score. Certainly there was the equally iconic "If You Leave" by Orchestral Maneuvers In The Dark (OMD) which scored the film's final 10 minute climactic prom sequence but what I found to be truly special was how he worked with bands reluctant to venture into Hollywood by ensuring that the integrity of their music would not be compromised or bastardized. This is most notable with the inclusion of New Order as they contributed three tracks to the "Pretty In Pink" music score. As "Thieves Like Us" provided an energetic warm up to the prom sequence with a montage of all of the film's major characters, their haunting "Elegia" was used the very best for the sequence where the conflict is highest and all of the major characters have hit their lowest, most turbulent emotional points.
As euphoric as "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" is, the film is also achingly melancholic and bittersweet as the concept of the speeding passage of time is paramount to the overall story, the inner states of our truant trio, as well as for the personal philosophy of John Hughes himself. While music by The English Beat, Sigue Sigue Sputnik, Big Audio Dynamite, General Public and of course, The Beatles' "Twist And Shout" brings the movie so happily to its feet via an infectious joie de vivre, Hughes never forgets to remain focused upon the film's very serious core which features Cameron Frye's (Alan Ruck) depression and family trauma combined with being terrified of his impending departure from high school into the unknown and eventual separation from his best friend Ferris Bueller (Matthew Broderick). Hughes utilizes the music of The Dream Academy (providing an instrumental cover version of a song by The Smiths) to wordlessly underscore Cameron's inner state during that stunning Art Institute sequence. And Ferris himself provides one of the film's most self-aware monologues as Cameron lays catatonic by Lake Michigan while being backed by Blue Room's "I'm Afraid."
As with his actors and several key members of his behind the scenes collaborators and crew, John Hughes worked diligently to build relationships with the musical artists he treasured while gathering new musical collaborators along the way. By "Some Kind Of Wonderful" (1987), Hughes (again with Howard Deutch) worked with legendary Producer Stephen Hague who composed the film's score as well as shepherded the soundtrack which featured The Jesus And Mary Chain, Stephen Duffy and The March Violets. And dear readers, by the time Hughes wrote, produced and directed his masterpiece "She's Having A Baby" (1988), I would absolutely LOVE to hear the stories of how in the hell he gained the opportunity to have music provided for him by The Police's Stewart Copeland (who scored the film) and the otherworldly and idiosyncratic Kate Bush (who wrote and performed the shattering "This Woman's Work" for that outstanding and heartbreaking birth/waiting room sequence)!
Hughes' relationships with musical artists strengthened to the point where they made repeat appearances in his films, much like his actors. The Dream Academy has music in two films ("Ferris Bueller's Day Off" and so powerfully in "Planes, Trains And Automobiles"), Blue Room shows up in three ("Ferris Bueller's Day Off," "Some Kind Of Wonderful," "Planes, Trains And Automobiles") and even Yello, whose "Oh Yeah" became Ferris's unofficial theme song, contributed several tracks to Hughes' and Director Peter Faiman's underseen, undervalued and second Thanksgiving themed road comedy-drama "Dutch" (1991).
While John Hughes continuously ensured that his films' musical world remained surprisingly diverse (take "Planes, Trains And Automobiles" where Book Of Love, Ray Charles, Gene Loves Jezebel and Emmylou Harris can all co-exist happily), when it came to the actual soundtrack albums, Hughes was just as diligent with ensuring the album worked as a complete listening experience and not as a random collection of tunes or as a cynical marketing ploy. The albums of "Pretty In Pink" and "Some Kind Of Wonderful" are two of the finest of its genre and beautifully representative of a collection of forward thinking artists of varying notoriety that Hughes wanted to showcase for anyone who chose to listen. With the albums for "She's Having A Baby" and "Planes, Trains And Automobiles," Hughes reached for an even more creative approach to the music by dividing the album's sides into "He" and "She" and "Town" and "Country" respectively. Hughes even began a short lived music label called "HUGHES MUSIC" where the songs were all copy written under the name "NANCY HUGHES SONGS," in tribute to his wife. To give an extra push, Hughes issued the first two albums by Flesh For Lulu (who contributed the track "I Go Crazy" to "Some Kind Of Wonderful") under his new label. And then, there was the very surprising and bold decision to NOT issue a soundtrack to "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" as Hughes felt that the wildly diverse nature of the songs would actually not make for a good album experience.
Hughes' musical integrity was steadfast and on the soundtrack album to "Pretty In Pink," he expressed as much to all of us when he wrote on the liner notes the following: "The music in 'Pretty In Pink' was not an afterthought. The tracks on this album and in this film are there because Howie Deutch and I believe in the artists, respect the artists, and are proud to be in league with them."
Never had I read anything like that upon a soundtrack album before that point and because of those words, I just felt that the artists would reciprocate Hughes' feelings as he obviously cared for them so completely. And since, I was always on the lookout for a new sound and anxious to snap up anything remotely related to Hughes' work and building legacy, I began to expand my musical universe, discovering and loving one new band after another.
JOHN HUGHES' FINAL FILM MUSIC YEARS
AND LASTING INTEGRITY
"It's really important to John that the music has integrity. He wouldn't use a song that didn't really mean something to him."
-Howard Deutch, Chicago Sun Time 1986 interview
By the time of Hughes and Director Chris Columbus' "Home Alone" (1990) and Hughes' final directorial effort "Curly Sue" (1991), the musical soundscapes of John Hughes films became more traditional with good but unsurprising orchestral film scores that were not remotely as inspiring as the bulk of his earlier material. Certainly, songs by Simple Minds, New Order and XTC would have had no place in a child's Christmas adventure comedy film, and despite how perfect John Williams' film score was, I missed that element of discovery just the same. Maybe at first, the discovery was for Hughes himself to work with a renowned composer in a more traditional way--something he really had not done at that time. But by the time of the sequels and copycat slapstick films that followed, it seemed, much like the films themselves, that the musical outlook was not that inspired no matter how competently and professionally the films were made and executed. But Hughes had one more musical hurrah, which surfaced in two films that were barely seen or even released: the dramas "Reach The Rock" (1998) and "New Port South" (2001), which featured mostly instrumental and electronically driven music from Tortoise, The Sea and Cake and Telefon Tel Aviv. And he even had one of his sons to thank.
John Hughes III is the label creator and owner of Chicago Hefty records where he records electronic instrumental music that bridges the gap between electronica, jazz, lounge and hip-hop under his own name as well as his aliases of Slicker and Bill Ding. It was through his love of the Chicago post rock/instrumental band Tortoise that perked his Father's musical ears again. As Hughes explained the genesis of "Reach The Rock" to Gil Kaufman for MTV.com, "My son had been listening to a lot of Chicago music-Tortoise, Shellac, the Sea and Cake-and I wrote the script to that music. I'm from Chicago, I live in Chicago and I wanted very much for the music in Chicago to succeed. It made sense to me to use local music, and I wanted a lot of instrumental music, but it's hard to find instrumental music for films that has any integrity. You don't want to hear another love song. I'm sure when I listen to Tortoise I'm hearing something different than someone else. It's so powerful and moving."
Powerful and moving. That is what the lasting legacy of the music of John Hughes' films means to me. For much of his career as a filmmaker, Hughes' musical integrity placed him within the upper echelon of film directors (Martin Scorsese, Woody Allen, Jim Jarmusch, and Spike Lee for example) whose soundtracks were highly celebrated. He remained defiantly steadfast as he refused to latch onto the Top 10 artists of the day in favor of the very music and artists he cherished the most. It was as if he was that big bother with the expansive record collection and with each film, we were able to get a peek into his personal vaults even more. John Hughes championed new and unknown artists and through his films, they all nailed the comedic and dramatic moments with high class and endless creativity.
As for me, I could never begin to have thanked him enough for all he has given to me, especially the music. How my musical horizons have grown over the years and how many times have I looked to an artist and thought to myself, "I first heard of you through a John Hughes movie and if I had never seen it, I would not know of you now." How he taught me the many ways music and writing could come together magically to create a piece of work that was especially individualistic and meaningful. When I engage my creative spirit with creative writing, I can still point to the very albums and artists that have inspired me from an idea's conception through the full laborious act of writing. I have even created "soundtracks" to help me remain on track and even after a lengthy spell of not writing creatively, I can reach for those CDs, put them on and I am instantly re-inspired and re-engaged to re-connect with my own characters once again. Without John Hughes to point me in the right direction, I am unsure if I would have found it in the first place.
To John Hughes, how I miss you, cherish you, celebrate you and thank you all over again for your writing, your films, your humor, your creativity, your heart and this time, for all of that gloriously sweet music.
If you were here...
Thanks for this, genuinely such a pleasure to read. John Hughes was such a genius and way ahead of his time, his films and soundtracks have inspired and guided me through my teen years, wish he was still here.
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