Episode 39: Right Song, Wrong Timing | FM Rock That Almost Conquered the World

Turn up the radio and roll the windows down.

This week on Who Ordered the Pie?, we're reopening five more musical case files featuring FM rock bands that had everything it took to become arena legends.

Big guitars.

Huge choruses.

Arena-ready production.

Songs people still crank in the car.

So why didn't they become the next Journey, Foreigner, or REO Speedwagon?

Join me as we investigate the stories behind Shooting Star, Saga, Red Rider, The Outfield, and Donnie Iris. We'll uncover the twists of timing, record label setbacks, changing musical tastes, and unexpected turns that kept these incredible bands from reaching even greater heights.

Along the way, I'll mix this episode's featured cocktail, Josie's Vacation, inspired by one of the most unforgettable songs of the decade.

Here's to loud riffs, quiet sips, and the stories in between.

Transcript

SPEAKER_04 0:00

It's a hot summer day, the windows of your car are all the way down, the radio is cranked, and you want everybody at the stoplight to know exactly what you're listening to. These were the songs that demanded to be played loud. They were huge guitars, big choruses, arena ready production, and that kind of hooks that still make you reach for the volume knob today. They sounded like they belonged alongside Journey, Foreigner, and the rest. So here's the mystery. If the songs were that good, why weren't the bands just as big? Welcome back to Horde of the Pie, the podcast where music history, the stories behind the songs, and Little Something Your Glass all come together. So roll down your windows, turn it up, and let's open up our first case. If there was ever a song built for FM radio, it was Shooting Star's Last Chance.

SPEAKER_03 1:08

Stand up on your feet, shut up the show.

SPEAKER_04 1:12

From the very first guitar riff, Last Chance sounded like it belonged on every FM rock station in America. Everything about it screamed Arena Rock, big guitars, towering vocals, and a chorus you couldn't wait to sing along with. It sounded like the kind of song that should have made Shooting Star one of the biggest American rock bands in the 1980s. So here's the mystery. Why didn't it? The band formed in Kansas City in the late 1970s and made history before they even had a hit. They became the very first American band signed the Virgin Records, a bold move by a young British label as it expanded into the United States. It became part of the band's signature sound. It added a dramatic layer that helped set them apart on FM radio. And if you ever thought that they kind of sounded like Kansas, you're not alone. The soaring vocals, the layered arrangements, and the prominent violin gave them that similar heartland rock sound. But Shooting Star still sounded like Shooting Star. Their debut album, produced by legendary Eldon John producer Gus Dudgeon, arrived in January of 1980, but it was last chance that really caught fire. Lead guitarist Van McLair later said that it became the most played song on album-oriented rock radio in America. That's AOR, the FM stations where rock bands lived or died. Now think about that for a second. One of the most played rock songs in America from a band many people have never even heard of today. So what happened? Years later, Van McLean shared one of the most frustrating stories we've uncovered in this series. He said, We had the number one most played AOR song in the country with Last Chance, and our record label, Virgin, had gotten into a fight with Atlantic Records, who handled our distribution. We ended up not being able to get our album into stores for six months. He went on to say we should have sold a ton of albums for having a song that popular on the radio. But when people went to the record stores, they couldn't buy the album because it was not in the stores. Imagine that for a second. Hearing your new favorite song on the radio, driving to the record store, and finding an empty space where the album should have been. Evidence, one of the most played AOR songs in America, the first American band signed the Virgin Records, a Heartland rock sound built from FM Radio, and tours with major classic rock bands. Suspects, a crowded arena rock landscape, brand new record label finding its footing, distribution problems. Smoking Gun, Virgin Records distribution dispute kept the album out of the stores just as last chance was exploding on FM radio. Sometimes the song is a hit. Sometimes radio does exactly what it's supposed to do. But if the album isn't waiting in the record store, the hit disappears before the band ever had a chance to arrive. Every once in a while, a band releases a song that sounds like tomorrow. For Saga, that song was on the loose. When On the Loose hit FM Radio in 1983, it felt unlike almost anything else on the dial. It had soaring guitars, massive keyboards, and a huge sing-along chorus. It was polished, powerful, and it sounded like a hit. So here's the mystery. Why wasn't Saga one of the biggest bands in America?

SPEAKER_02 5:25

I see the problem stars. I want the tension grow. I see you keeping it to yourself.

SPEAKER_04 5:31

The answer gets interesting because depending on where you lived, they already were famous. Saga formed in 1977 and spent years building one of the tightest live shows in rock. By the early 1980s, they had become major stars across Canada and much of Europe, filling arenas while remaining almost unknown to most American audiences. Their albums eventually earned gold and platinum certifications around the world. The band had sold more than 8 million records and then came on the loose. Released on the album Worlds Apart, it became Saga's biggest American success. The song reached number 26 on the Billboard Hot 100 and climbed to number 3 on the Billboard's Top Rock Tracks chart. MTV embraced the video and suddenly it looked like Saga had finally broken through. Years later, lead singer Michael Sadler remembered the feeling. He said, I remembered that there was something tangible in the air. I think everybody knew that we had something special on our hands. He also credited producer Ruper Hind for pushing the band into new territory. He went on to say, if we had done the song on any of our previous records, it wouldn't have come out the way it did. It almost certainly would have never been a hit. Everything finally seemed to be lining up. So what happened? Now, unlike Shooting Star, there wasn't a distribution problem. There wasn't a band breakup, and there wasn't one dramatic event. Instead, Saga faced something almost as difficult. America had already been overflowing with arena rock bands. Radio programmers only had so many slots to fill. Every new band was fighting for the same airplay, same concert tickets, and the same record buyers. Meanwhile, Saga remained enormously successful overseas, especially in Germany, Switzerland, and Scandinavia, where melodic progressive rock never really fell out of favor. In many ways, they became victims of geography. They were one of the biggest bands in the world, just not in the world's biggest music market. So what's our evidence? A Billboard top 30 hit, number three rock radio hit, heavy MTV rotation, gold and platinum records around the world, more than 8 million albums sold. Suspects, an overcrowded FM rock landscape, limited U.S. momentum, and a band whose biggest audience lives somewhere else. Smoking gun, no smoking gun. Verdict? Saga didn't fail. Sometimes a band conquers the world, but it just doesn't include America. Some songs don't just begin, they make an entrance. From those haunting opening notes, Lunatic Fringe by Red Rider feels almost cinematic. It's the kind of song that pulls you into the story before even a single lyric is sung. Then the vocals begin and you realize there's something much deeper going on here.

SPEAKER_03 8:39

I know you're out there.

SPEAKER_04 8:42

It's one of those songs that makes you wonder, what's it really about? Red Rider released Lunatic Fringe in 1981. It opened with an eerie guitar line that slowly built into one of the most recognizable intros in the early 80s. It was haunting, powerful, and just mysterious enough that people have been talking about it ever since. But there was another mystery. Why wasn't Red Rider one of the biggest bands in America? Like Saga, Red Rider came from Canada, forming in Toronto in the late 1970s. At the center of the band was lead singer and songwriter Tom Cochrane, whose raspy voice and thoughtful lyrics gave the band the sound all its own. They weren't trying to sound like Journey or anyone else. They just sounded like Red Rider. The song appeared on the band's 1981 album, As Far As I Am. Although it never cracked the Billboard Hot 100, it climbed to number 11 on the Billboard's Top Rock Tracks chart and became a permanent fixture on FM radio. In fact, the song's popularity only grew with time. Years later, Tom Cochran explained that the song was inspired by a raise on anti-Semitism that he had witnessed. Rather than write about one specific incident, he chose to write about the dangers of extremism and intolerance in a way that could speak to anyone. The lunatic fringe isn't one particular group. It's a dangerous edge of society. The people who spread hatred and fear and violence while the rest of us hope that they simply disappear. And that's why the song feels so relevant today. It wasn't written for one moment in history, it was written as a warning. Ironically, not everyone around them thought that that was the right song to release. Management encouraged him to write something more commercial, but Cochran believed in the song and he refused to let it go. Ironically, the song that most people thought wasn't commercial enough became Red Rider's Signature Hit. So what happened? For a while, it looked like Red Rider was on their way, but they never found the crossover success that turned a great rock band into a household name. Then about a decade later, everything changed. In 1991, Tom Cochrane released a solo album featuring his title song Life is a Highway. It became a worldwide smash. It climbed number six on the Billboard High 100 and introduced Cochrane to millions of listeners who had never heard of Red Rider. Almost overnight, many casual fans remembered the solo artist, but completely forgot the band that came first. Red Rider continued performing. Tom Cochran reunited with the band over the years, but history had quietly rewritten the story. Instead of being remembered as the front man of Red Rider, Tom Cochran became the guy who sang Life is a Highway. Evidence, one of Classic Rock's most enduring songs, a number 11 rock radio hit, a distinctive sound led by one of Canada's finest songwriters, and decades of continued FM radio play. Suspects, limited crossover success, an overcrowded FM rock landscape, and a solo career that overshadowed the band. Smoking Gun. Life as a Highway became so successful that it eclipsed Red Rider in the public's memory. Verdict? Red Rider never stopped being a great band. They were just simply remembered for the road that their singer traveled next. There are certain opening lyrics that don't need an introduction. You hear the first few words and you're already singing along. And I know you just finished that line in your head, didn't you? That opening lyrics become one of the most recognizable starts to any rock song in the 1980s. By now, you probably heard your love by the outfield hundreds of times. On classic rock radio, in movies, on television, it's become part of American pop culture.

SPEAKER_02 12:44

Come around and talking over so many things that I want.

SPEAKER_04 12:50

So here's the mystery. If your love became this iconic, why wasn't the outfield one of the biggest bands in the world? Well, here's your first surprise. The Outfield wasn't actually American, they were English. The trio formed in London, and before settling on the name The Outfield, they performed under the name of the Baseball Boys. They loved American culture, especially baseball, which is where the band's name ultimately came from.

SPEAKER_02 13:09

I just want to lose your love tonight.

SPEAKER_04 13:13

It's a fitting bit of irony. Three musicians from England would go on to write one of the most American-sounding rock songs of the 1980s. The band's debut album, Play Deep, arrived in 1985. Its centerpiece was Your Love, written by guitarist John Spinks.

SPEAKER_03 13:26

I don't want to lose your love tonight.

SPEAKER_04 13:30

The song climbed at number six on the Bilbert Hot 100 and became an instant FM radio staple. The album itself sold more than two million copies in the United States. But here's something a lot of people didn't realize. The Outfield weren't a one-hit wonder. After your love, they kept turning out memorable rock songs one after the other. Songs like Say It Isn't So, All the Love in the World, Voices of Babylon, For You, and Since You've Been Gone kept them in heavy rotation on FM radio throughout the rest of the decade. They toured relentlessly, built a loyal following, and for a while, it looked like they were on their way to joining Arena Rock Elite. So what happened? Unlike Saga, America wasn't the problem. In fact, America embraced them more than their native England did. Instead, the outfield ran into something much harder to overcome. One perfect song. Your love became so enormous that it overshadowed nearly everything else they recorded. Then the musical landscape shifted. As the late 1980s gave way to early 90s, grunge and alternative rock changed what audiences wanted to hear. The polished melodic sound that was dominating FM radio for years suddenly wasn't what radio programmers were looking for. The outfield never stopping great music. The audience just simply moved on. Unfortunately, both of the creative forces behind the outfield are gone. John Spinks, the band's guitarist and chief songwriter, and the man who wrote Your Love passed away in 2014 after battling liver cancer. Lead singer Tony Lewis passed away unexpectedly in 2020. But every time we hear Josie's on a vacation far away, we're instantly transported back to the time that we first heard it. And that's the power of a truly timeless song. Great music never asked for permission to stay, it just refuses to leave. So what's our evidence? A number six billboard hit, a double platinum debut album, multiple follow-up hits, years of successful touring, and one of the most recognizable opening lyrics in rock music. Suspects. A rapidly changing musical landscape, the rise of grunge and alternative rock, and an overcrowded arena rock scene. Smoking Gun, rock music changed almost overnight. Final verdict. The outfield didn't run out of great songs. The audience just simply started listening to something different. Sometimes success comes early. Sometimes it never comes at all. And sometimes it takes nearly 40 years. That opening guitar, that gritty vocal, and one of the biggest choruses FM Radio has ever given us. Aleya doesn't just sound like a hit. It sounds like the beginning of a superstar career. So that's the mystery. Why didn't Donny Iris become one? The surprising part is Donny Iris wasn't a newcomer. By the time Aleia hit the radio, he had already spent years paying his dues. In the early 1970s, he was a member of the band The Jaggers, who had a number two hit with the song of the rapper. Years later, he actually joined Wild Cherry just after Play That Monkey Music had already become a phenomenon. So, but he wrote the songs, he played, he toured, and he built a reputation as one of the hardest working musicians in the business. But the spotlight always seemed to belong to somebody else.

SPEAKER_03 17:01

We can't stop this burn in the eye.

SPEAKER_04 17:07

Then in 1980, at an age when many artists are looking back on their careers, Donny Iris decided to start over. He formed Donny Iris in the cruisers and then bet on himself. That gamble paid off. Alea climbed to number 29 on the Billbert High 100 and became a massive FM rock radio favorite. It showcased everything that made Donny Iris special. A powerful voice, a huge hook, and enough energy to shake the speakers every time it came on. But Aleya wasn't the end of the story. A couple years later, he gave us another classic. And if you grew up listening to FM Radio in the 80s, there's a pretty good chance you knew that one too. It became another rock radio staple that proved Donny Iris wasn't just a living off of one great song. So what happened? The truth is, Donny Iris just arrived a little later than the rest of the arena rock stars he was competing against. By the time he finally broke through, radio was already crowded with established giants. And before long, a new generation of music was beginning to change the landscape once again. Donnie Iris never became a household name, but he never stopped making music. He remained a hometown hero in Pittsburgh. He kept touring, he kept recording, and kept doing exactly what he'd always done, making great rock and roll. And maybe that's the end of the story that we were always supposed to have. Not every great career ends with stadiums. Some end up with something even better: a lifetime of fans who never stop showing up.

SPEAKER_01 18:42

It's no good. We're just asking for trouble. I can touch you.

SPEAKER_04 18:48

Evidence, a remarkable second act that began at nearly 40 years old. A top 30 hit with Alea, another FM rock radio favorite with Love Is Like a Rock, and decades of loyal fans and enduring live performances. Suspects, breaking through later than most of his arena rock peers, an overcrowded FM rock landscape and changing musical taste just as his career, second career, was beginning to gain momentum. And finally, the smoking gun. Donnie Iris arrived just as a door to Arena Rock superstar item was beginning to close. Final verdict: some artists measure success by platinum albums, some measure it by sold-out arenas. Donnie Iris measured it in another way, by still getting to sing these songs for people who never stop loving them. Maybe he didn't become the biggest star in FM radio, but he became something else that is just as rare. Someone people never forgot. And maybe that's the biggest lesson from today's case files. Not every great band gets the ending you'd expect. Sometimes the record isn't in the stores when the radio is playing your song. Sometimes your biggest fans live in another continent. Sometimes your own solo success rewrites your history. Sometimes one unforgettable hit casts a shadow over everything else that follows. And sometimes you simply arrive at exactly the wrong moment. But great songs don't care about timing. They have a way of finding us anyway. Maybe on a summer drive with the windows down, or maybe through an old playlist. Or maybe when somebody at the next stoplight is playing it just loud enough that you can hear the song and think, I haven't heard that in years. So let's pull this car into the nearest neighborhood bar, grab a seat, and order today's cocktail. Today's cocktail is called Josie's Vacation. It's bright, it's refreshing, and built for exactly the kind of summer afternoon that we've been talking about. And a shaker filled with ice. You're gonna add two ounces of reposado tequila, one ounce of fresh ruby red grapefruit juice, half an ounce of fresh lime juice, one quarter ounce of Aperol, a quarter ounce of agave syrup, and two dashes of orange bitters. You're gonna shake until well chilled, and then strain into an ice-filled Collins or highball glass. You're gonna top it with Fever Tree's sparkling grapefruit, and then give it one gentle stir. Then garnish with a grapefruit wheel. It's bright, it's refreshing, and just different enough to stand out. It's kind of like the five bands we've talked about today. Here's the hoping the next time one of these songs comes on the radio, you turn it up just a little bit louder. Thanks for listening to Who Ordered the Pie. And if you've enjoyed today's episode, I'd really appreciate it if you'd follow the show, leave a review, and share it with somebody who cranks up the radio just like we do. Until next time, here's the loud riffs, quiet sips, and the stories in between.