On 2 February, 1980, “Holdin’ on for Dear Love” by Lobo peaked at #75.
Lobo is the guy who wrote and performed “Me and You and a Dog Named Boo“, which apparently isn’t a serious enough offense to get you locked away for life. If I were president, believe me, it would be. If you aren’t familiar with it it’s the kind of aw-shucks small-town nostalgia song in which people do mildly illegal things, like hitch-hiking and stealing eggs, and live care-free among the simple kind people of America as if the world of John Steinbeck still existed in 1974.
But I’m not here to talk about me, you, or a dog named Boo. I’m here to talk about “Holdin’ on for Dear Love“, in which we get trite down-home advice about romance. How do you keep love from fading? The secret to the secret is to love and never stop, preferably to a saxophone solo that sounds like a puddle of olive oil and a key change that announces yet one more chorus. Yeah, but how, Mr. Lobo, How do I keep loving and never stopping? His answer to that: “When you lose that magic, you lose everything.” I know that! What kind of useless advice are you peddling, mister? Instead of a paean to hope and faith, this is a recipe for misery and disaster.
While Reagan Slept 