Mr. Mister Fan Fiction

Let’s come to an agreement. In the mid-‘80s, there were few bands as atmospheric – and poppy – as Mr. Mister.

You can come up with a list to refute this fact, but it’ll be short, and I’m sorry, the bands you’ve selected are just not atmospheric or poppy enough.

Often derided as a less rocking Toto, it’s an unfair comparison. Mr. Mister never did feel the rains of Africa, but their layered sound was as thick as the fog that followed the downpour.

Mr. Mister dominated the airwaves in a way Howard Jones and his hair could not. Sure they didn’t dominate it as many times as he did, but when they dominated, they dominated. Emphasize that last “dominated” when you re-read the sentence.

A group of session musicians on the L.A. scene, Mr. Mister formed when their egos could no longer stand the confinement of an album’s liner notes, I’m guessing, and they were lead, and bassed, by one Richard Page.

As the vocalist-slash-bassist, Richard himself wasn’t necessarily responsible for the band’s signature sound, but like all frontmen, he was certainly responsible for their image, career goals, and rise to success.

The role also made him responsible for their downfall.

When Mr. Mister was in their prime, I was a few years shy of frontman age, but it’s easy for a boy to dream and even easier to look back and wonder what I would have done as the lead singer of Mr. Mister.

Now I say this with all due respect to Mr. Page. The guy was no one hit wonderbread, but at some point, the atmosphere got a little too thin to support life. Mr. Mister could never be more vital than their sophomore effort Welcome to the Real World, an ironic title in hindsight as they’d soon come face to face with it. Soaring waves of synth can only keep you aloft for so long.

So who’s to say where the band would have gone if I was fronting it?

Obviously, I don’t look anything like Richard Page, and that’s a good thing, because if Richard himself had looked a little farther up the charts, he’d see that he looked exactly like Sting. Both were frontmen with short blond hair (and wait, is that a tail in the back there?) who also played bass.

Key to continued Mr. Mister success #1: Look the part better than those already looking the part.

So looking different is inherently taken care of, but what about the bass? In addition to vocals, I’d also handle all bagpiping responsibilities. Yes, I would be the vocalist-slash-lead piper. Audiences and critics alike would marvel at not only my lyrical wizardry, but at my astounding lung capacity and elbow stamina as well. No other frontman has ever been able to work the crowd in such a way, and had I made it happen in the anything goes ‘80s, you can bet there would be at least three bands at Coachella doing it now.

Key to continued Mr. Mister success #2: Be the absolute best atmospheric pop band you can be, then add bagpipes.

As for the body of work, we’ll have to assume I’d have written all the same hits as Richard Page had. “Broken Wings” lured listeners to the band, but it was “Kyrie” that kept them wanting more. In Greek the word me means “Lord have mercy” but unfortunately for Richard, he overlooked its Latin meaning, “all downhill from here.” Not knowing either language, I’d have written the song based on the one foreign language I know as well as a native three year old, French, where “Kyrie” means “Career.”

Key to continued Mr. Mister success #3: There’s no need to prove you’re so smart and/or a former altar boy, but choose your words wisely.

A lot of other amazing things happen to my Mr. Mister, but to save a little something for our episode of Behind the Music, I’ll just mention some highlights. There was the globe- circling, 92-date, sold-out arena tour with The Hooters. A thrilling experience to be sure, especially for the fans, but admittedly tough on the piping elbow. We finally surpassed both the Police and Toto in the Billboard charts, thanks to a redefined “Kyrie,” and Welcome to the Real World ultimately went quadruple platinum. But such highs were also accompanied by incredible lows. In a moment I’ve come to regret, one influenced largely by our management company, we licensed our image to The Meade Corporation for use on a variety of school supplies. At the time, I remember how excited I was to outsell Duran Duran in pencil sharpeners 3.7 to 1.

Page’s Mr. Mister called it a day before the end of the decade, just as my Mr. Mister had done. His bandmates returned to a life in the shadows, writing hits for Madonna, recording with XTC, Whitesnake, Tori Amos, and, in perhaps the greatest post-Mr. Mister endeavor, serving as musical director for Kenny Loggins. Huh? It happened.

How did I end it? Here’s the untold story of how my fictional Mr. Mister called it a day. I’m the only one who knew, until now…

It was a Tuesday, August 1989. I was in the candy aisle of a Kroeger’s supermarket. With a pound bag of Twizzlers in my hand, I turned to catch an image of my face on a thermos. Was this why I'd played the bagpipes every day since I was 7? Would I ever learn to fly again, learn to live so free?

I was an artist, but I’d become corrupted, allowing myself - and my music - to be turned into a commodity. I left the supermarket that afternoon, pound bag of Twizzlers on the seat next to me, and drove. I didn't call the other guys in the band, just left L.A. and every Mr. Mister Trapper Keeper, Mr. Mister pillowcase, and 12” doll in my likeness behind. I became pop music’s Salinger or Pynchon, never to be seen in the spotlight again.

Just like the real Richard Page…

Key to continued Mr. Mister success #4: Make sure your music is good enough to do the speaking for you – even 20 years later.