New wave wasn’t afraid of the dark. Beneath the neon, eyeliner, and drum machines lurked haunted boats, spider-human nightmares, and even the Devil himself behind the wheel. Some bands leaned into gothic dread, while others took a campy, tongue-in-cheek approach straight out of a B-movie. Either way, these tracks prove that Halloween belongs on the dancefloor just as much as in the graveyard. Here are six unforgettable songs to soundtrack your spooky season.
Believe it or not, Duran Duran could go dark, as shown in tracks like Careless Memories. But in the ‘80s, they rarely veered into spooky territory. Night Boat from their debut album is an eerie exception. LeBon and the gang are “waiting for the night boat”, and LeBon’s vocals have an anxiety and urgency that suggests they want it to come soon so they can leave the scary environment. And to further this point, the ominous instrumental intro is well over a minute long, leaving us waiting. Though not as well-known as Rio or New Moon on Monday, Duran Duran made a video for Night Boat. Much different than those, Night Boat is charmingly low-budget (Blair Witch Project came to my mind). In this video, Duran Duran nervously waits at a dock for this night boat. Unfortunately it comes too late, and they’re attacked by a monster. Recently they remade Night Boat in their Halloween-themed Danse Macabre (which by the way is a solid covers/remake album that washes the bad taste of Thank You out of your mouth).
Coming in at the tail end of the ‘80s is the Cure’s Lullaby. It was a gutsy choice for a lead single for Disintegration, which represented a full dive into goth for the Cure after several forays. When I first downloaded this song, I thought the Spiderman reference was cool. But eventually I realized Robert Smith was referring not to Marvel’s webslinger, but rather a spider-human chimera that is about to eat him. This is no lullaby - more like a nightmare! Smith effectively describes the Spiderman’s stalking his prey (“looking for the victim shivering in bed”) And the slow attack vividly (“a thousand million shivering furry holes”). What’s interesting is that Smith is not terrified at all, but rather he sings either with an air of resignation, or even that he welcomes the imminent entrance into the afterlife. The accompanying video is delightfully gothic and faithful to the lyrics. Of the four singles off Disintegration, Lullaby was the highest-charting across the world with the exception of the US, which flocked to the more mainstream Lovesong.
Ah, Oingo Boingo. I was tempted to drop most of the album Dead Man’s Party into this article and call it a day. After all, it’s a catchy concept album about the afterlife with a Dia De Los Muertos twist. Let’s skip the title track (which is excellent but has been played to, em, death) and focus on No One Lives Forever. It stands out because Oingo Boingo’s prominent horn section, Johnny Fernandez’s hammer-like drum hits and fast pace come out full force. Danny Elfman delivers some of his best vocal histrionics. He heightens the song’s tension greatly while also retaining an impish quality to them. As for the lyrics, Elfman is explaining to someone that no one is immortal. Obviously this person knows that, but Elfman is doing this to, like in I Heard Somebody Cry, take the scariness out of dying. Sure, Elfman is dodging the Grim Reaper’s scythe. But avoiding death in this song is more like a sport for him rather than the prime imperative. With memorable tracks like these, it’s no wonder Oingo Boingo became synonymous with Halloween in Southern California, staging legendary annual October concerts that turned their playful morbidity into a true holiday tradition.
Again hard to believe, but Mr. Gloom-and-Doom himself, Martin Gore, was hit-or-miss early on with this vibe. And More Than a Party won’t win points for lyrical gravitas (“take all the ice cream so we’ve got one” is the worst culprit). But Fletcher and Wilder deliver the goods with the instrumentation. The song immediately kicks off with a low, ominous piano riff and keeps playing it throughout. The synths are disorienting and their eeriness rivals that of those in late ‘50s and ‘60s horror and suspense shows. Gahan’s baritone supplements that low piano nicely. Already amped-up, the outro speeds up to a ridiculous tempo before stopping abruptly. Upon listening to it, I imagined being at a Halloween party and slowly realizing the other guests are actual monsters. All this makes More Than a Party a perfect song to jumpstart a Halloween vibe at a - party!
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The B-52s were topically diverse: they wrote campy and sometimes cartoonish songs about sci-fi (Planet Claire), the environment (Juicy Jungle), etc.. Devil in My Car has that goofiness, but it’s juxtaposed nicely with a horror movie vibe. As you may have guessed, the band’s car gets hijacked by none other than the devil himself. And he’s not meandering in a cul-de-sac: instead he’s recklessly speeding down the highway at 90 miles an hour toward his realm. This kind of song is right in vocalist Fred Schneider’s wheelhouse; he has a lot of fun with a convincing freak-out. Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson chime in with worries and screams. But they also harmonize nicely which grounds the song nicely. Their matter-of-fact chant of “freeway to hell” is an excellent counterpoint to all this shouting. Yes, the lyrics have the subtlety of a sledgehammer but for this song it’s perfect. And the B-52s mix it up with cool yet specific metaphors and references (“cloven hoof on the clutch”, “he’s grinning door-to-door”). Love it!
Cult band Book of Love adroitly took the synthpop torch from Gary Numan and Howard Jones, and added New Order dance inclinations for good measure. They tackle the playful side of Halloween with Witchcraft. At first it sounds like a typical Siouxsie and the Banshees song with its goth melody, but that notion’s squashed thanks to the Bewitched nose twitch sound about ten seconds in. Lead vocalist Susan Ottaviano really has a crush on someone, so she uses her wiccan abilities to make a love potion right in the song. With an assist from fellow band members Lee and Roselli, they list the ingredients as they’re making it and then say the necessary chant (which includes the characters of - Bewitched!). The tongue-in-cheek tone is reinforced by the light synth work, goofy sound effects, and Ottaviano’s “in on the joke” vocals. When Witchcraft came out in 1989 it hit the alternative dance clubs (and not just in October).
From sinister lullabies to gleeful devil-rides, new wave artists found endless ways to turn Halloween’s creepiest imagery into something fun, danceable, and surprisingly heartfelt. These songs remind us that fear can be playful, death can be theatrical, and monsters can groove as hard as humans. So when the trick-or-treaters go home and the jack-o’-lanterns flicker low, put on this playlist and let the shadows keep dancing well past midnight.
