What was the first song on the first-ever ‘Now That’s What I Call Music’ CD?
In culture, we seem to hold very little space for things like Now That’s What I Call Music. Viewed by many as nothing more than a capturing of whatever’s trending on the radio, the whole concept of Now has become something of an extension of modern consumerism; an unnecessary add-on to an industry that already feels a little too distinctly capitalist in many spaces.
Aside from the fact that this was an initiative kicked off by the two pillars of musical consumerism (Sony Music and Universal Music), it’s easy to see why it’s gained such a negative reputation. It’s the ultimate celebration of everything others deem anti-art: a snapshot of all the songs people actively avoid, and not at all reflective of the music scene, era or the talent shaping the entire industry.
However, holding such a view might seem a little cynical, especially when looking at its roots. For instance, where do you think the inspiration for the name came from? While it’s nice to imagine it being dreamed up by some Sony exec in a stuffy office who thinks they’ve just invented sliced bread, it actually came from a vintage 1930s poster showing a pig listening to a chicken singing, saying, you’ve guessed it: “Now, that’s what I call music!”
And, in all fairness, it’s pretty catchy. That pig might have made an appearance on the first few iterations, but this wholesome beginning also springboarded the whole Now movement into something that felt inherently easy to get behind, literally. Not sure what sort of music you fancy or what others are listening to? Pick up a Now CD, the legwork’s already done. Want to discover something popular that you might not have otherwise come across? It’s all waiting for you across two CD sides.
What was the first song on the first ‘Now That’s What I Call Music’?
All this proves that the mounting negativity is also a relatively new development. Launched in 1983, Now made complete sense: in a world without Spotify or Apple Music, it allowed people a sort of tester or glimpse into material they might like, marking a pathway into buying other records or singles down the line. In its first year, the potential for falling in love with new music was there in spades, the first-ever compilation starting off strong with Phil Collins’ ‘You Can’t Hurry Love’.
And it only gets stronger from there. You have Duran Duran, UB40, Bonnie Tyler, Culture Club, Men At Work, Rod Stewart…an array of quintessential ’80s hits you might stick on in your car or enjoy at a wedding, wondering where the good times have gone and why Now CDs no longer feel like a magic capsule you can revisit whenever you want. Or maybe that’s just the nature of the ’80s; an era so intensely visceral that it feels like it never existed at all.
Nevertheless, it was never particularly “cool” to own Now, even from those humble beginnings. Suppose it could be said that those earlier versions are better because, well, the music was. But that’s another debate entirely. Is Now another extension of vulturistic contemporary culture, or is it just a reflection of how popular music has changed over the decades, transforming from something more respectful to a cesspit of familiar formulas?
