Endless Love with RadioPeng

RadioPeng doesn’t usually dip into the glossy waters of mainstream pop. Our orbit tends to favor the cosmic, the obscure, the droning, the free-jazz freakouts and the ambient abysses. But every so often, a song comes along so unabashedly human-so universal in its naked sincerity-that it breaks through the firewall. Enter Endless Love (1981): Lionel Richie and Diana Ross’s gloriously over-the-top hymn to devotion, a duet so pure it could melt the coldest experimentalist’s heart.

When that tender piano intro fades in, you can almost see the gauzy soft-focus lighting and the glitter of shoulder pads. Richie and Ross don’t merely sing to each other-they orbit one another in a gentle gravitational dance. The melody is simple, the sentiment direct: two souls, one eternal flame, zero irony. It’s pop distilled to its rawest emotional element-so sincere it breaks through schmaltz (a word, by the way, with glorious Yiddish roots-literally “chicken fat,” but spiritually “emotional excess”) and circles back into the sublime.

My wife, who happens to be 99.8% Ashkenazi Jewish according to the DNA overlords, reminded me that schmaltz isn’t a bad thing-it’s flavor, depth, soul grease. And maybe that’s why Endless Love hits so deep: it’s musical schmaltz at its richest, rendered into emotional gold.

When R&B Met Cinematic Melodrama
Endless Love was written by Lionel Richie for Franco Zeffirelli’s 1981 film of the same name-a movie that tried to outdo Love Story in tragic teenage devotion (and mostly succeeded in melodrama). Richie’s composition soared far beyond the film’s reputation, becoming one of Motown’s biggest crossover hits and cementing both artists as royalty of the romantic duet.

This was Richie before the yacht-pop sheen, still carrying the soul warmth of the Commodores, just beginning his rise to pop Olympus. Diana Ross, meanwhile, was gliding elegantly into her post-Motown solo reign-an icon of composure and glamour. Together, they made sincerity fashionable again, if only for a fleeting, magnificent moment.

A Slow-Motion Battle of Tender Titans
Ross’s crystalline tone trembles with devotion; Richie’s warm phrasing grounds her like sunlight through velvet. Their voices don’t clash-they entwine, like two vines climbing toward the same light. It’s an act of total vulnerability, recorded with a seriousness that feels almost alien in the irony-saturated present.

To the RadioPeng ear, it’s fascinating: not just as a pop artifact, but as performance art-a maximalist ritual of love so exaggerated it transcends the commercial frame and becomes strangely avant-garde.

Covers, Parodies, and Echoes
The song has lived a thousand lives since-Mariah Carey and Luther Vandross’s powerhouse version, countless karaoke renditions, and a parade of parodies. It’s the kind of track that invites both mockery and reverence. And yet, drop that piano line in any room on Earth, and people still hush, sway, remember.

Personal Note:
The Karaoke Revelation at the Hole
I’ll confess-Endless Love became personal for me. One night at Wonko’s Hole, during a particularly unhinged party, my friend Michelle and I decided to sing it. I was bartending that night-pouring drinks, keeping the chaos in rhythm.

Then Michelle took the mic.

Michelle doesn’t just sing; she inhabits the song. Her voice is luminous, rich, and fearless-somewhere between gospel and velvet smoke. I joined in (half laughing, half swooning), and for those four minutes, irony left the room. The crowd swayed. The bar lights dimmed like a cue from the heavens. I hit the harmonies better than I had any right to, and when we finished, the whole Hole erupted.

It was the best song I’ve ever sung. The best moment I’ve ever had behind that bar.

Confession: Why I Really Wrote This
Let’s be honest-this post exists mostly because I wanted to talk about that karaoke duet. Sure, Lionel and Diana are immortal, but the real performance (at least in my slightly biased opinion) happened that night at the Hole. Sometimes, writing about music isn’t about critique-it’s about documenting those little collisions between sound, friendship, and chaos. And if that means bending Radio Peng’s no-pop rule to sneak in a love letter to one karaoke night and one spectacular voice named Michelle… so be it.

A Monument to Romantic Maximalism (and Why We Broke Our Own Rules)
So yes, RadioPeng broke form for this one. No experimental tape loops, no Icelandic drones, no ritual percussion from the outer reaches. Just Lionel. Diana. Love. Infinite, melodramatic, unapologetic love.

If you ever need to remember what sincerity sounds like-before irony took the wheel-put on Endless Love. Let it play. Let yourself believe, even for one chorus, that love really is endless. And maybe, just maybe, add a little schmaltz. It’s good for the soul.