By admin 
HangupsMusic.com – New York City, The intimate act of chronicling one’s romantic history, often confined to the deepest recesses of personal memory, has taken on a profoundly public and artistic dimension for Susanna Hoffs. For decades, the iconic voice of The Bangles has maintained a secret, leather-bound ledger, a deeply personal archive of every individual she has ever dated. This youthful endeavor, initiated during her formative years as an art-inclined high schooler in 1970s Los Angeles, has now blossomed into The List, her highly anticipated first collection of original songs in fourteen years, offering a candid and melodic journey through a life lived both in the spotlight and in quiet reflection.
Hoffs, reflecting over coffee in a luxurious New York City hotel, shares a knowing laugh about the contents of this unique journal. "There’s a whole array of names," she reveals, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Some were actors, some, frankly, were absolute cad. I’d even denote if it was a fleeting encounter, perhaps a ‘1’ for a single night, or a ‘2’ for a brief dalliance." She grins, acknowledging its inherent allure. "It’s quite a compelling roster." This personal list, a testament to her evolving romantic experiences across several decades, has become the muse for an album that skillfully employs her signature folk-rock sensibilities to navigate the winding path of her remarkable life in music and relationships. While celebrated for her impeccable taste as an interpretive singer, The List firmly establishes Hoffs’ often-underrated prowess as a songwriter, ready to share her own narratives forty years after The Bangles first commanded the charts.
The creation of The List itself was an intimate affair, mirroring the album’s deeply personal themes. Collaborating with producer and kindred spirit CJ Camerieri, known for his work with Bon Iver, Phoebe Bridgers, and Paul Simon, Hoffs initially sought a studio environment. However, they soon discovered that the most authentic acoustics resided within her own residence. "My house offered the coziest, warmest, most inviting atmosphere," she explains. "It was effortless; I could simply descend the stairs, brew coffee, and set a convivial mood for everyone." This home-grown approach fostered a relaxed and genuine atmosphere, allowing the raw emotional core of the songs to emerge naturally.
The genesis of her infamous list dates back to her high school days in Pacific Palisades, a distinctly Californian upbringing steeped in liberal values. "I possessed a rather sophisticated Filofax notebook back then, a testament to my old-school inclinations," she reminisces. "It was a chic leather diary, my pre-internet method of keeping track of things. I meticulously recorded the name of my very first high school boyfriend. Though I’ve lost touch with him now, that’s where it all began." From that initial entry at seventeen, Hoffs diligently expanded her chronicle through her dating life, charting her experiences as she navigated young adulthood and the burgeoning music scene.
Her meticulous record-keeping extended well into her thirties, finally concluding in the Nineties with a singular name emblazoned on the final page in capital letters: "JAY ROACH." This marked the end of her dating journey, as she met the acclaimed Hollywood filmmaker on a blind date, married him in 1993, and has been "madly in love ever since." Roach, celebrated for directing the Austin Powers franchise (where Hoffs famously performed with the Sixties-themed house band Ming Tea), frequently publicizes his adoration for his wife. Hoffs recalls with amusement his Golden Globe acceptance speech for Game Change, where he lauded her as "my muse, lover, friend, and Jewish rock angel." Yet, despite their enduring devotion, singing about him on the new album proved to be an unexpectedly emotional challenge. "Jay is the final name," she confesses. "I find myself holding back when I reach the line, ‘You were the last one on my list.’ It often brings tears to my eyes; my throat tightens. I have to remind myself to stay composed in that moment."
The Bangles carved a distinctive niche in the 1980s, evolving from an indie-rock garage band to MTV darlings. These four California women, with their intricate Rubber Soul-esque harmonies and jangly guitars, bridged the gap between the Sixties and the Eighties. "We embraced a very thrift-store aesthetic," Hoffs recounts. "We aimed to infuse the Eighties with the spirit of the Sixties, often in a rather scrappy way." While distinguishing themselves from contemporaries like The Go-Go’s, The Bangles’ sound allowed them to create "super-melodic, emotional songs" without succumbing to the then-emerging shoegaze trend. Their electrifying 1984 debut, All Over the Place, showcased a powerful blend of Sixties flower-power rock, post-punk guitar, and a tough, feminist edge. Tracks like "Hero Takes a Fall," co-written by Hoffs and guitarist Vicki Peterson, became an MTV staple, flaunting their Rickenbackers and acerbic wit against fragile male egos, captivating a generation of music lovers.
Among their admirers was none other than Prince, who was captivated by their sound. He penned "Manic Monday" for them, with Hoffs delivering the unforgettable hook, "Come on, honey, let’s go make some noise!" Their legendary jam session at Paisley Park, where Prince knew all their songs, cemented a unique artistic bond. The track soared to Number Two, only to be famously blocked by Prince’s own "Kiss" at Number One. This propelled The Bangles into a flurry of chart-topping success, including "Walk Like an Egyptian," "In Your Room," and their electrifying cover of Simon & Garfunkel’s "Hazy Shade of Winter." Hoffs reflects on their authenticity: "We weren’t overtly ‘cool,’ perhaps, but we wore our hearts on our sleeves."
The Bangles emerged from the vibrant Paisley Underground scene in early 1980s Los Angeles, a movement where post-punk artists revisited the psychedelic rock of the Sixties, a genre considered anachronistic at the time. Alongside bands like Rain Parade and The Dream Syndicate, The Bangles introduced a new generation to music they "weren’t supposed to like." This fertile ground culminated in the influential 1984 album Rainy Day, a collection of covers from artists like The Byrds, Buffalo Springfield, Love, and The Velvet Underground, which broadened the musical horizons of many. Hoffs had a particularly significant connection to this scene through David Roback, her ex-boyfriend and best friend’s brother. "Once a romantic spark ignited between us, we became a couple," she shares, recalling their time together. They formed their first band, The Unconscious, in Berkeley, where she pursued ballet, theater, and art. This powerful musical connection left an indelible mark on both Mazzy Star, which Roback later co-founded, and The Bangles. Hoffs describes their dynamic: "We were truly yin and yang; I was always effervescent, while he possessed a certain darkness." She fondly remembers recording her contributions to Rainy Day, Bob Dylan’s "I’ll Keep It With Mine" and Lou Reed’s "I’ll Be Your Mirror," with a bottle of whiskey in hand. "I was a bit of a rascal," she laughs, "I took a swig and sang both songs in just one take. Rock & roll!"
Hoffs’ deep reverence for the Sixties era is evident. "I adore that Sixties period," she says, "the sonic quality, the warmth of those recordings. It was just beautiful. The Sixties, to me, was all sunshine-drenched music." This affection for classic rock history also informs her track "Casablanca," a poignant narrative about a romantic stroll with the late Bob Weir of the Grateful Dead. Recalling a tour with George Michael in 1988, Hoffs describes encountering Deadheads en route to New Orleans. A chance invitation led The Bangles to the Dead’s crawfish boil, a scene with Jerry Garcia and his new baby, "all so Grateful Dead-centric, but so fantastic." The next night, The Bangles joined the Dead on stage by Lake Pontchartrain, singing and dancing to "Iko Iko" amidst a shower of beads. "It was crazy," she says. After the performance, Weir, whom Hoffs describes as "the cute one in the band" and "a big walker," invited her for a walk. Their innocent evening promenade down Bourbon Street by the Mississippi River remains a cherished memory. "There was just something so dreamlike about it," she recalls. "He had a flower in his hand, gesticulating with it as he spoke. He was special. They all were, but Bob had a certain charm." This unexpected encounter deeply resonated with Hoffs, a self-proclaimed "music junkie" whose eclectic tastes transcended her pop upbringing.
Hoffs’ musical erudition is well-known. When The Zombies were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2019, she delivered a heartfelt tribute, and she proudly notes her unique position as "the only non-dude" among an assembly of legends performing Bowie’s "All the Young Dudes." Her recent, sassy reinterpretation of The Rolling Stones’ "Under My Thumb" exemplifies her playful approach to classics. "It was fun to reverse the narrative," she explains, "and place him under her thumb."
The Hoffs household, she reminisces, was the epitome of a free-spirited 1970s Southern California environment. "My parents were incredibly liberal and democratic," she shares. Her mother, the daughter of a progressive rabbi who marched with Martin Luther King, and her father, a psychiatrist, fostered an open atmosphere. "There were virtually no rules. My dad was exceptional; he even took us to see Midnight Cowboy as kids, explaining anything we didn’t understand, especially regarding sex. He was incredibly cool that way." This environment made their house a magnet for friends, complete with a pool table where her father often demonstrated his skill. This upbringing contrasted sharply with the Peterson sisters, Vicki and Debbi, whom Hoffs met in late 1980 through a newspaper ad seeking bandmates. They were Catholic schoolgirls from the Valley, with a much stricter background. "They just had completely different upbringings," Hoffs notes. Yet, music bridged the gap. "Wait, you play guitar, and your sister’s a drummer?" she recalled asking Vicki. Their impromptu audition with Jefferson Airplane’s "White Rabbit," a song with just two chords, ignited an immediate spark. "I started singing, and something clicked," Hoffs says. "We decided to form a band that very night. It felt as impetuous, or perhaps crazy, as meeting someone on a blind date and then eloping to Vegas."
Hoffs’ mother, listening from the porch, declared, "You girls already sound like a band." Susanna’s reply: "Maybe we are." This was a radical notion in 1980s L.A.; young women forming bands without a male Svengali figure was almost unheard of. But these women were trailblazers, blending folk melodies with punk aggression. Initially "The Bangs," a name with a suggestive double entendre, they changed it to The Bangles after discovering another band with the same name. With bassist Michael Steele, a veteran of The Runaways, they forged their distinct sound, driven by ambition and defying attempts to pit them against friends like The Go-Go’s.
However, having four accomplished singer-songwriters in one band inevitably led to creative clashes. The internal conflicts became public when, on their 1987 Rolling Stone cover story, the Peterson sisters openly criticized their latest album. Hoffs acknowledges ongoing discussions for a Bangles documentary, though she expresses skepticism. "People typically make documentaries when there’s a major tragedy or intense drama," she muses, referencing their Behind the Music episode. That Y2K special delved into the band’s disputes, particularly the contentious reception of "Eternal Flame," their most famous hit. A sublime yet eccentric Eighties ballad, it featured angelic harmonies and an extended chorus coda, unlike anything else on the radio. Hoffs co-wrote it with Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly, recalling the "brain explosion" moment when they crafted the "say my name" bridge.
Despite its universal appeal and Number One status in 1989, "Eternal Flame" ironically became a catalyst for the band’s eventual dissolution. Vicki Peterson’s infamous comment on Behind the Music—"Whitney Houston could have a hit with it. Why are we doing it?"—still resonates. Hoffs recalls her shock: "I thought she shouldn’t have said that, slagging Whitney Houston! I was horrified. And she criticized my most popular song—the Number One Bangles hit."
Hoffs swiftly embarked on a solo career with 1991’s When You’re a Boy, featuring the glam-pop hit "My Side of the Bed" and a provocative cover of Bowie’s "Boys Keep Swinging," signaling her clear refusal to conform to conventional pop expectations. She also ventured into acting in her mother Tamar Simon Hoffs’ low-budget beach flick, The Allnighter. "Oh God," Hoffs groans good-naturedly, "That was purely to help my mom. It’s cheesy, but it’s become a weird, terrible cult classic, like Beach Blanket Bingo with worse dialogue."
Hoffs has remained continually active, publishing her acclaimed debut novel, This Bird Has Flown, in 2023. She cultivated a beloved collaboration with Matthew Sweet, creating three "Under the Covers" albums as Sid & Susie, exploring classic rock gems. Her recent solo albums, Bright Lights and The Deep End, feature her interpretations of artists from Nick Drake to Billie Eilish. Now, with CJ Camerieri, she plans to cover entire classic albums, beginning with The Beatles. "We’re reimagining Help! song by song," she reveals. "The opening line, ‘When I was younger, so much younger than today,’ deeply resonates now that my older self is revisiting my younger self." Revolver is next on their ambitious list.
The Bangles’ catalog, from "Dover Beach" to "Glitter Years," retains its power, yet their pivotal historical role is often overlooked. Breaking up just before the Nineties explosion of female rock stars, they didn’t fully capitalize on the era they helped inspire. (Kim Deal famously dubbed The Breeders "the Bangles from hell.") Hoffs is genuinely surprised to learn The Bangles remain a touchstone for contemporary pop. Listening to tracks like Olivia Rodrigo’s "U + Me = <3" and Taylor Swift’s "Hits Different," both jangle-pop guitar anthems in the Bangles’ vein, she acknowledges their enduring influence. Watching a 1985 MTV clip of The Bangles on IRS’ The Cutting Edge, a pre-fame, pre-glitz performance of The Mamas and the Papas’ "Creeque Alley," Hoffs smiles. "Total thrift-store aesthetics," she says. "You know what? The Eighties were great!"
The List carries profound emotional resonance, capturing the essence of an adult artist sifting through her past, allowing old stories to reveal new truths, devoid of bitterness or cynicism. Many listeners will undoubtedly wish they, too, had kept such a notebook. "Perhaps they can journey back in time and piece together their own little list," she suggests. "That guy was a jerk! No, that girl was wonderful!" Whatever the memories, Hoffs concludes with a universal sentiment: "That’s music for you. Music is the beginning, middle, and end of every day. There’s always a song for every feeling, every day, every moment—anytime you want it, it’s there. You can just pluck it from the ether."
