10 Songs From the 1980s We Still Love to Hate

There is plenty to remember fondly about the 1980s. The decade gave us synthesizers, shoulder pads, unforgettable music videos, and countless songs that still sound great decades later. But it also produced a few hits people have spent years trying to forget. When we say these songs are impossible to escape, that is not necessarily a compliment.

Some aged badly, while others seemed irritating from the moment they first reached the radio. A few became overplayed to the point of exhaustion, and others inspired backlash because of their lyrics, production, or sheer repetition. Ranked from mildly annoying to almost unbearable, these are 10 songs from the 1980s that people still love to hate.

"Lady in Red" is one of the many terrible ballads produced in the 80s. There's nothing particularly bad about it, but there's nothing good either. De Burgh wrote the song as a heartfelt tribute to his wife, which is sweet, but the result is an overly sincere ballad that borders on cheesy.

The song hit number one in the UK and twelve other countries, but De Burgh never found the same level of success again. He became known as a one-hit wonder, and his smash hit was a song that most people can't stand. It's one of those ballads that works its magic in a poorly lit school gymnasium during prom night, but has no place being on a Billboard chart.

"Lady in Red" ranks low on the list because the mainstream hatred has mellowed into mild cringe, which is almost worse.

"Never Been to Me" wasn't supposed to be on this list. It actually flopped when it was originally released in 1977. Then a Florida DJ re-released it in 1982, and it went to number one.

The thing about this song is that it's about a woman who spent her youth traveling the world, having affairs, and living the good life, telling an unhappy housewife that she needs to appreciate what she has. So far, so good, right? The problem is that the way she describes that freedom and lack of responsibility as the "sweet life" makes it sound like she isn't really convinced about the point she's trying to make.

The song is trying to sell domesticity and accidentally makes the other option sound like the better deal. There's also a spoken-word section in the middle, which makes it even worse. You'll know it when you hear it. The song comes in low on the list because most people can't quite put their finger on what it is they hate about it. We just made it obvious for them.

Eddie Murphy was arguably the most famous entertainer on the planet back in 1985, coming off 48 Hrs, Trading Places, and Beverly Hills Cop. He had everything going for him. Then he released "Party All the Time," and the question that comes to mind is "why?"

It's a falsetto-heavy R&B track produced by Rick James about a woman who parties too much and breaks his heart. The song reached number two on the Billboard Hot 100, and the production is top-notch, but Murphy's voice just isn't there.

The worst part is that you can tell he was actually trying, which makes the whole thing even worse. He later went on the record admitting he regretted getting into music, which is reassuring.

The Beach Boys are responsible for some of the most inventive pop records in all of American history. That's what makes this whole ordeal so bad. The artists you know and love actually made "Kokomo."

The song was released in 1988 for the Cocktail soundtrack, dethroning the Miami Vice Theme from the top of the Billboard Hot 100. It became their first number one in 22 years, helped in no small part by the film itself. It's an easy-going, soulless song about a made-up Caribbean island, sung by middle-aged men with the energy of a worn-out resort brochure.

The song ranks here because it's too forgettable to place any higher. It only made its way onto the list because the band should have known better.

"Everybody Wang Chung tonight" is one of those phrases that is difficult to explain to younger generations. It's a "you just had to be there" moment. The song is incredibly repetitive, built around a nonsense phrase that loses all meaning before you even reach the one-minute mark.

The synth-heavy production is absolutely terrible, and the verses are so forgettable that people who like the song only know the chorus. It ranks here because a song built almost entirely around a made-up word has absolutely no business being this hard to get out of your head.

The keyboard intro to "The Final Countdown" is one of the most iconic four bars in pop history and while the song is beloved by many, it is also despised by many more. Its popularity plays a big part in making it one of the most hated songs from the 80s.

It's a song about leaving Earth for Venus that sounds like it was played on a toy instrument. And yet, it went number one in 25 countries and refused to die against all odds. The song takes itself so seriously that it eventually became a joke. It still plays at sporting events, internet montages, and manages to find its way into movies to this day.

The frustrating part is that it actually works every time. When that keyboard kicks in, something happens to you whether you want it or not, and that's precisely the problem. The song is so relentlessly dramatic that the feeling it gives you comes with a side of embarrassment.

Bobby McFerrin is a talented musician. He has a wide vocal range and an incredible body of work. That actually makes "Don't Worry, Be Happy" even worse. An a cappella song whose entire lyrical content is built around variations of the title feels out of place in McFerrin's discography.

The song probably came from a good place, with McFerrin aiming for an inspiring feel-good song about overcoming life's problems with the right attitude. But there's a thin line between inspiring and condescending, and "Don't Worry, Be Happy" crosses it. It's the musical equivalent of someone telling you to just cheer up. It just makes you feel worse.

The song had no business being as popular as it was either. It became the first a cappella song to reach number one on the Billboard Hot 100 and George H.W. Bush even used it as a campaign song. McFerrin himself has said in interviews that the song followed him around for years and he found it exhausting. Don't worry, the feeling is mutual.

Billy Joel is an excellent songwriter. Songs like "Piano Man," "The Stranger," and "New York State of Mind" have all reached legendary status. That's what makes this so hard to defend.

And then came 1989. "We Didn't Start the Fire" lists historical events from 1949 to 1989, rattled off to a repetitive tune, with Joel shouting them over and over while the chorus insists he and his generation have nothing to do with any of it. It feels less like a song and more like a history project with a drumbeat and a persecution complex.

Nevertheless, it reached number one. It's now used in classrooms as a history teaching tool, which says a lot about our education system. If you think this song doesn't deserve to be this high on the list, just know that Joel himself called it "terrible, like a dentist drill." He wasn't wrong.

"Heeeeeey Miick-yyyyyyyyyy, you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind, hey Mickey." If you didn't know the song, now you do because that's pretty much the gist of it. That's not a criticism, that's a description. The song is almost entirely chorus, and the chorus is basically one line repeated until it loses all meaning.

At the time of its release, Toni Basil was 39 years old, a former choreographer and film director who had been working in entertainment since the '60s. Her actual contribution to the song was the iconic cheerleader chant, plus directing and choreography for the video. "Mickey" was a cover of "Kitty," released by British group Racey in 1979 and written by Nicky Chinn and Mike Chapman.

It reached number one in both the US and the UK and, four decades later, has never stopped showing up at sports games, cheerleading contests, and any film that needs to signal unhinged enthusiasm. The cheer break is pointless but effective. It triggers a Pavlovian response in anyone who lived through 1982. The hatred comes from the fact that it never goes away, and it never stops working.

This song has been deemed "the worst song ever recorded" by Blender magazine, the worst song of the decade by Rolling Stone readers in what their editor called "the biggest blowout victory in the history of the Rolling Stone Readers Poll," and the Most Awesomely Bad Song of All Time. By any reasonable metric, there is simply no contest.

Starship, which emerged from Jefferson Airplane after shedding every trace of its countercultural credibility, made a song supposedly about the threat of commercialism to rock and roll, then gave it the slickest, most artificial production imaginable.

It was written by a team that included Bernie Taupin, Elton John's longtime lyricist, and it dethroned the Miami Vice Theme from the top of the Billboard Hot 100. A song about the death of rock and roll, with lyrics by a pop legend, nominated for a Grammy, and more successful than almost everything it claimed to be fighting against. The irony grants it its place as number one on this list.