Talking Heads, Remain in Light (1980), the list's only Top 10 album I couldn't live without.
U2, The Joshua Tree (1987) -- "Oh, how the punks hated U2." Not so!
Brian Eno and David Byrne: My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (1981) -- ambient music before it was cool. I loved the recording of the exorcism.
Kraftwerk: Computer World (1981), more ambient music/white noise from the guys who taught Americans all about the bahn bahn bahn bahn autobahn in the '70s.
Elvis Costello & The Attractions: Get Happy (1980)
David Bowie: Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps) (1980)
Albums that didn't make the list but should have include Zenyatta Mondata, by the Police; Speaking in Tongues, by Talking Heads; and London Calling, by the Clash. I'd make room by dropping Michael Jackson's Thriller (drop it like Jacko almost dropped his infant from the balcony, I'm tempted to add), and any of the Prince albums that made the list.
More signs you grew up in church in the '80s. A follow-up to this post.
Someone singing "We Shall Behold Him" every week. (From Bill [the unnecessary pastor].)
Singing "Friends" at the end of church camp. (Bill again.)
Two words: Mike Warnke. (Bill again; he's on a roll.)
Playing with Silly Putty in the pews. (Sounds kind of '70s-ish, but I'll allow it, since it's from the prolific Bill.)
Someone singing "People Need the Lord" at a missions conference. (From Kristen.)
Singing Jewish-sounding songs in some minor key -- songs like "King of kings and Lord of lords, glory, hallelujah" -- and singing them faster and faster ("KingofkingsandLordoflordsgloryhallelujah") until the entire congregation is worked up into a spinning tarentella frenzy. (From Rachel, with a bit of embellishment by moi.)
Leading your youth group in a "human video" of "The Champion," by Carman. (Via yours truly, who was guilty of such theatrics well into the '90s.)
[At the Garden of Olives Monastery]
"Why are you all so quiet all the time?" I say, still
whispering at him in this hoarse voice.
"We are teachers and workers," he says, "not talkers."
"Workers, O.K.," I say, "but how can a teacher be quiet all
the time and teach anybody anything?"
"Christ was the best," he says, thinking of something. "He
lived thirty-three years. Thirty years he kept quiet; three
years he talked. Ten to one for keeping quiet."
... Franc Smith, Harry Vernon at Prep [1959]
Mr. Hopkins' Opus. A great blogger and writer, and no doubt a marvelous teacher (I always learn something from him, anyway), David Hopkins, who recently stepped down as editor for Next Wave, gives all of us in ministry an earful with this piece in the latest issue.
You pastors get so excited about foreign missionaries, and neglect the everyday church goer who works hard at their unimpressive job. You pastors freak about about attendance and offering, and forget to lay yourself down. You pastors measure your success by programs and buildings, and forget about transforming the community around you. You pastors dream of fancy titles and recognition, and I am ashamed for you.
Shades of Jeremiah.
I have such respect for high school teachers. I work with teens a couple of times a week, and it both exasperates and energizes me. But working with them day in and day out -- I don't know if I could handle it. I'm thankful for people like David Hopkins who answer the call to teach.
Simon Dawes, 
