Photo by Lynn Goldsmith- Elektra press kit 1980

ADDENDUM 3/25/25

I already gave props to the mighty Elliot Easton and his superior guitar work, but listening to this song again recently, for some reason I was really struck by the beat, the momentum, and decided I  must discuss the rhythm section in this song. That Ben could sing AND play the bass line like he did just adds to the specialness that was Benjamin Orr.   Both Ben and David’s driving beat, to keep a car analogy going, is the perfect juxtaposition to the dreaming lonely longing of the lyrics and the mystical sound of Greg’s synthesizer. The music is both grounded and ethereal at the same time . The steadiness of that beat during Elliot’s guitar solo keeps it moving forward.  Here’s a link to an alternate version with no vocal overdubs of the song…different from the version on the album but just as elite.  What The Cars did so well in their first four albums was amalgamate all kinds of different elements- rock-a-billy, synth, pop, rock and roll, that sarcastic and ironic New Wave attitude, obscure lyrics and images in addition to universal themes of longing and waiting, into extremely interesting and new sounding combinations. They did not sound like anyone else at the time. They were simply unique for the late 70s and early 80s.  IMO, 78-82 were their best years. 

Here’s the link:

How is it that a pop song that was released forty six years ago still has the power to get me right in the solar plexus? And the funny thing is I hadn’t given this gem much thought for literally decades. But I recently had an epiphany. It’s All I Can Do is THE BEST of all The Cars songs. And one of the best pop/rock/new wave, whatever you want to call it songs of all time. I can listen to this song on repeat ten or twenty times in a row and not get tired of hearing it.  And I have done that.  The Cars catalog is chock full of incredibly amazing songs.  But this has to be the absolute standout. And they never performed it live.  Or at least there is no audio or visual evidence that they did.  Elliot Easton has said in a few interviews I’ve read and watched that it was not a favorite of the band’s. I guess Benjamin didn’t like the song and that makes me curious. 

Why do I think this song is three minutes and forty four seconds of delicious musical perfection?

For one thing it appears on their Candy-O album and I am a big fan of their pre-Heartbeat City material. I prefer the sound of the RTB produced Cars.  The first four albums to me are THE Cars.  Heartbeat City changed something in the band.  Their sound changed- it was less edgy and more 80s sounding.  It also changed the dynamic energy within the band.  The recording of HC was grueling.  It took much longer than they had anticipated, much longer than it took them to record any of their first four albums.  And much of the recording was done in isolation from the others, each member spending hours with Mutt Lange micromanaging every little aspect of every part of every song. Many people think this is their best work.  They like the polished sound.  And it was obviously a huge commercial success.  But I think it did permanent damage to the soul and core of the band.  

But back to the song-

So Ric might not have had these things in mind when he wrote the lyrics but this is what I interpret them to mean.

I hear universal themes of longing, hoping, wishing and desire. If you listen carefully to most of his stuff, Ric’s songs are basically love songs (or lust songs); ironic, wry, sarcastic, detached, biting maybe, but love songs nonetheless.   And this one in particular just gets me in my solar plexus.  

When I was crazy, I thought you were great…

I kept my renditions of you on the wall

Where holiday romance is nothing at all

Is there anyone who can’t relate to this?  I can’t even begin to count the number of times in my youth I was crazy out of my mind with lust for someone who was probably not the right person for me. And who didn’t have a holiday fling- during Christmas break from college? Or  over summer vacation? Oh my goodness, summers in the mid 80s were full of crazy lust, romantic or just plain old sexual adventures, and amazingly unwholesome fun.  I don’t know if I was ever the person someone was longing for in a crazy fog, but I clearly remember twisting the gate for someone(s) too many times.

And once in a moment it all comes to you

As soon as you get it, you want something new

Welp!  There it is.  You give yourself to someone you have been lusting over and then they decide they don’t want you anymore.  It was a temporary arrangement. The protagonist in this story has a pretty clear understanding of the object of their affection but he is so enamored that he can’t do anything but hope and wait for her anyway. 

AAAAAAND on the flip side … if you are the antagonist in this story,  you can totally understand protecting your head and heart.  And this is so appropriate for, and illustrative of the origins of the name of my blog, the SFB.  I was fickle.  I changed my mind a lot.  My college friends and I created a list of truisms and one of them was “ When you finally get what you think you want, you don’t want it anymore.”  Was that true of you all in the 80s? Is that still the  truth for young people today?  

OK, we HAVE to talk about the vocals. I like the entire Cars catalog, but really, their best songs were sung by Benjamin Freaking Orr. Perfection.  You wait eight full measures for the vocals to begin.  The anticipation builds with David Robinson’s tight drumming and Elliot’s melody and Ric’s rhythm and then Ben’s voice.  It almost catches a bit and kind of sounds a little – I don’t know- maybe ragged.  But just a little. The way he could interpret Ric’s lyrics was supreme. I don’t think anyone else could possibly have done them justice the way Ben did.  The symbiotic relationship between Ric and Ben, and the natural way Ben sang was pure magic.  I think I recall reading Ben saying in an interview that sometimes he didn’t even have to think about Ric’s lyrics, they just came so easily.  Ben’s tone, inflection, and phrasing just made this song.  Like the syncopation of emphasizing too rather than one

one TOO many times

I fell over you

On TOO many times

I twisted the gate 

Elliot Easton and his masterful guitar work. What a boss he is on his ‘61 Strat here.   When the power chords come in on the verses And once in the night I dreamed you were there and I canceled my flight, from going nowhere- he creates a luscious fullness and depth as the sound builds. It enhances the feeling of desire and angst.  It is the perfect companion to the plaintive emotion in Ben’s voice and in the lyrics.

And the solo- oh my goodness.  Eight measures of Elliot Easton lifting the song up and weaving seamlessly away from and then back to the vocals. It’s a delicious nugget of perfection. You get the feeling of being carried or embraced by the melody as it swings you, it envelopes you – you become enmeshed in it. Like you’re on a sweet ride and it gently drops you off at the end.

The guitar along with Greg Hawkes keyboard takes this to an absolute whole other level during the chorus.  Ethereal.  You feel in your heart, your head,  your gut, your nether regions! Greg Hawkes:  an absolute keyboard and synth genius.

That rhythm section.  David Robinson.  Meticulous.  He keeps such a tight beat and together with Ben’s bassline- the two of them- YUM! Both gorgeous and talented working together 

they create the scaffolding, or maybe the framework that holds it all together.  I kind of think of it in a weird way as a nest where all the other parts of the song can live.  

Random other observations-

Watching old footage of the band just reinforces how spectacular and groundbreaking they were for their time.  They had an “aura” or a vibe that very few other bands, then or now, possess(ed). The fact that their image was carefully crafted or curated and not messy or freeform makes it harder to separate the real people from  their on-stage personas . They appeared to be a tight unit- each playing their part for the benefit of the whole. They were all highly talented in their own rite, but The Cars was a package deal- and therefore harder to see as individuals.  I think that’s a big part of why they disintegrated.  Ric seemed to chafe at that group thing- didn’t want to tour anymore, wanted to branch out and produce other bands. 

And about Ben- I think the breakup seemed to hit him the hardest.  He and Ric had been partners for the better part of twenty years.  If you watch videos and concert footage, mostly from pre-MTV days, even when Ric is singing, your eyes are unavoidably drawn to Ben.  His stage presence was just off the charts.  I read about someone from back when they were playing bars and clubs who said that Ben’s presence on stage was like a beacon, he emitted that much wattage. That is such a perfect analogy. He was the focus even when he wasn’t.  I think when the band broke up he didn’t know what to do or where to go with all that energy. He had been a member in musical partnerships since he was like thirteen years old and all of a sudden he was on his own. Of course this is just my guess.  Just conjecture.  Just trying to reconcile The Cars Benjamin and the after The Cars Benjamin.

Obviously The Cars are not everyone’s cup of tea.  And it probably makes me terribly uncool to be gushing about a band that was popular for a short period of time a long time ago. But forty some odd years after the height of their popularity I’ve found something very compelling about them.  Maybe it’s because after their first and second albums I kind of forgot about them for the most part and am just now really listening to their music and finding out who they were as people rather than just those guys in music videos.  There are many forums on-line that heap adoration and praise for this group, and there are an equal number of forums that criticize. I just read something in which someone  called Ric’s song writing formulaic.  What does that even mean?  All songs have  forms. Unless it’s improvised jazz. Even then, there is a form of some sort. Some diss them for what they call unimpressive live shows. Some people say they are underrated.  I would call them more undervalued today than underrated. I think most people of a certain age and generation enjoy the five or six songs they remember and that are played most in the oldies rotation, but don’t dig much deeper into their catalog. IMO, Ric Ocasek’s lyrics are endlessly interesting and unique and they make you wonder what he was thinking when he wrote them.  I love that he said that listeners should interpret them however they wanted. He didn’t assign them any particular meaning, he just wrote what came to him.  That was part of his genius.  Anyone can hear what they want to, and that is what makes great art,  art that is accessible to everyone, anytime and anyplace and makes them feel something. And It’s All I Can Do definitely makes you feel something.