The sixth 10cc studio platter to hit the shelves, Bloody Tourists was the last by the band to make a big impression on the album charts. But is it a case of “I don’t like Tourists-aah, I love it-aah”? Shall we find out in another track by track review?
Dreadlock Holiday
Bit of a Marmite opener, this one. The lead single from Bloody Tourists proved to be a runaway success, achieving Number One status. And in a year that was dominated by Saturday Night Fever and Grease tracks, that’s no mean feat.
Some of the 10cc purists found it a bit too cheesy, and poles apart from the early days. Maybe it’s the chorus, which is kind of like the Barron Knights meets Bob Marley meets Danny Dyer (the man who always adds an extra aah at the end of every sentence he says-aah). The trick is that the breezy chorus is in stark contrast to the more ominous verses, in which a tourist is accosted by four locals who threaten and rob him (well, a silver chain for a dollar is near as, damn it).
The track is loosely based on personal experiences of both Eric Stewart and Graham Gouldman, as well as Moody Blues’ Justin Hayward. Gouldman subsequently explained that some of the lyrics are true and others are “fairly true”. In the case of Stewart, he recalled a group of Afro-Caribbean men taking umbrage with a British tourist trying to be like them and failing miserably. Which is where the “show some respect” bit stemmed from.
It’s easy to write Dreadlock Holiday off as a naff bit of novelty pop. But I’m reminded of when me and Mrs B went on holiday, and we were sitting in a bar, and it started blaring out of the speakers. A dopey grin spread over my face, as I realised what a fun ditty it was. While it may not have so much of the same style as the original 10cc line-up, taken on its own merits, Dreadlock Holiday gets more love-aah than dislike-aah.
For You And I
Contradictory as ever, I’m wondering if maybe the 10cc purists had a point when it comes to the next track.
There’s nothing badly wrong with For You And I. It’s a perfectly pleasant little ditty with some nice lyrics about how we shouldn’t judge other people who are too shy or too plain or who simply don’t fit the norm. It’s just a little too sappy for my tastes. 10Cc always held out appeal for me, because of their sardonic and clever sense of humour. This track, however, plays it a bit too straight, and instead comes over as a bit too earnest for its own good.
While it wasn’t released as a single in the UK, it did end up on the re-release of I’m Not In Love in 1979 (to tie in with the band’s Greatest Hits LP). It was however, issued in the US, as it was on the soundtrack of the romantic movie Moment By Moment, which starred Lily Tomlin and John Travolta.
Take These Chains
Bloody Tourists was the last album I bought for a while, picking it up on CD in September 1995. I’d become a fan since buying the tape of The Original Soundtrack in February 1994, and quickly snapped up the other albums over the next year.
I’m not sure why I saved this and Deceptive Bends (bought in May 1995) till last. I might have read some bumph in a music magazine or book that said that 10cc lost their way once Godley and Creme left. I was an impressionable idiot back in those days, as both albums were and are actually very good.
Tracks like Take These Chains may not be as complex and overly funny as the earlier stuff, but as a great bit of jangly new wave, it delivers. I love the recurring guitar riff, and like many of its bedfellows on the album, it sticks in the mind very quickly.
Shock On The Tube (Don’t Want Love)
We’ve all been there. Crammed up like sardines in a sweltering mobile baked bean tin that slowly moves from A to B. Being on the tube is about as fun as being dragged to an Oasis reunion concert and paying £150 for the “privilege”.
The protagonist of this tube tale, however, is captivated by a vision that gets on at Maida Vale and sits next to him. Given the joyless harrumphing of many today, I’m sure the lyrics would be passed off and snorted at for being sexist. “Homing like a scanner…” “Did a mental strip tease…” Radio stations would be called upon to ban this kind of wanton troglodyte sexism in a heartbeat. And that’s even before the pair get “newborn naked” and “altogether bare” in front of cheering and clapping commuters. At least TikTok didn’t exist in those days. You can picture 2024 equivalent commuters filming the whole shebang and uploading it on to social media quicker than you can say Benny Hill.
Pity the poor bloke though. It’s all a dream. His vision got off the tube a long time before he reached the end of the line. The “arms of Morpheus” held on too tight for him to wake up.
A witty little ditty, Shock On The Tube starts off as one thing and then takes a different route. The a cappella opening is reminiscent of I’m Not In Love, with swathes of overdubbed vocals accompanying Eric’s dreamy murmuring. It then swiftly detours into a fast-paced rocker, with some great vocalising from Stewart. A good ‘un, and one that’s ideal for the headphones on many a crowded commute.
Last Night
The double entendre machine is in overdrive here on this ode to the joys of the one-night stand. Mind you, at the point of the “Huh, you planned to come all the time”, it rapidly moves into single entendre territory.
To some, Last Night may only serve as filler. Even if it is, it’s very enjoyable filler. It’s well played, has a great guitar hook, and some neat harmonising from Gouldman and Stewart. The mildly risqué lyrics are a hoot too.
The Anonymous Alcoholic
Structurally, the last track on Side One has more in common with the band’s earlier incarnation in that it combines different styles. While the woozy, boozy, bluesy bookends tell the tale of the eponymous anonymous alcoholic (try saying that 10 times fast, especially if drunk), the middle bit goes all disco, complete with congas and what’s called “Dorking horns” (to my cloth ears, Dorking horns sound like synthesised brass).
It’s a vividly told story of a down on his luck recovering boozehound who does his best to resist the temptation of having a sneaky tipple at a work’s do. But not wanting to be left “out in the cold”, our hapless loser takes one shot, then another, keeps them coming, heads off to the dancefloor, grabs at his boss’s wife, makes a complete tit of himself, gets kicked out and then loses his job. Only to take solace in more booze as he heads to the bar again.
10cc paint distinctive pictures with their words. They always did. Part of their secret was to marry their lyrics to equally well-considered song arrangements. The Gouldman-drawled blues sections contrast well with the more frantic Stewart-sung disco bit, and I also like the last note as the band vocally take a downward slope as the “Baaaaaaaarrrrrrr” sees the anonymous alcoholic on the skids. A clever track, well conceived.
Reds In My Bed
By 1977, 10cc had expanded their line-up. Originally, Gouldman and Stewart roped in drummer Paul Burgess, but from their live album Live And Let Live, they doubled their numbers. Joining the line-up were guitarist Rick Fenn, keyboardist Duncan Mackay (previously keys hammerer for Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel) and former Pilot member, percussionist Stuart Tosh.
Tosh also takes the lead vocal for Reds In My Bed in an unusual move, but he makes a very good job of it. This Cold War-themed Side Two opener was released as a single in November 1978, but sunk without trace.
Which does it a disservice. It starts off a bit like a Beatles track from around 1968 with its quirky piano intro, before launching into a sturdy rock number which has all the required hooks to make it a much bigger hit than it was. Alas though, the tide was turning in the chart world, and sadly, after a terrible car accident that cost Stewart the sight in one eye, the momentum was lost as their eventual follow-up album Look Hear barely scratched the surface of the Top 40 album charts in 1980.
Life Line
This is great. A gentle, lilting number about a long-distance relationship. In the days before Skype and all that, a telephone was the only way of keeping in touch – although the phone bill probably had more figures than the actual miles.
Gouldman sings it very well, actually. In the early days, he’d get maybe a lone track to sing the lead on, so it’s nice that his deeper, mellow tones got more of a showcase on both Deceptive Bends and Bloody Tourists. The bridges are particularly good here, with the “Don’t go talking in your sleep, no” bits sounding like they belong in another song entirely, and yet they still fit seamlessly into the finished product. A definite pick for me.
Tokyo
Again, contradictions. The middle instrumental break sounds like it’s been pinched from another song entirely. Yet this time, the berserk synthesiser/guitar freakout clashes with the gentle serenity of Tokyo. It’s like hiring Sid Vicious to do a guitar solo on a Demis Roussos album.
That aside – and also some lazy Eastern cliches in the lyrics – this is a nicely soothing interlude that’s again sung with heart and commitment by Stewart.
Old Mister Time
As a man who’s about to turn a creaky half century in only nine days at the time of typing this latest lot of Stuart Tosh, I can relate to the protagonist of this track. A man derided by everyone in sight, who’s referred to as a scarecrow. However, at least I’m not living in a “broken shack on the railway” with only a moggy for company.
Stewart and Gouldman – as I’ve mentioned – have such a way with words. They have such a brilliant turn of phrase and wit that’s sorely lacking today. With his “old raincoat and baggy trousers and sneakers he found at the dump”, on the surface Old Mister Time is a bit of a laughing stock. Except that the lyrics portray him as a rather sad figure with something “behind the eyes”.
It also turns out that he’s working on a vital new invention, but after switching on the power, he’s no more. Only after folks discover his invention, is he revered as something of a genius.
From Rochdale To Ocho Rios
More Agadoo than Dreadlock Holiday, its louder, brasher younger brother, From Rochdale To Ocho Rios is more of a shouty singalong, with all six barking the chorus.
It’s not as dire as most other singalongs though. It does have the advantage of a catchy acoustic guitar rhythm. I like the strange synthesiser noodling at the start. The lyrics are as pithily witty as ever. Stewart also gets to imitate Macca with a piercing scream in the middle bit.
Everything You Wanted To Know About!!!
The last curiously titled offering on Bloody Tourists is a return to the more quirky style of 10cc’s early days. The lyrics made me laugh a lot actually, telling the tale of a uselessly inept virgin who took his fantasy to a lady of the streets called Deborah, who then turns him into a “superstud”.
Accompanying these between the sheets zero to hero lyrics is a fantastic new wavey rock and pop breeze. Some of the synths sound a little dated, but charmingly so (you can also just about hear Stuart Tosh “shouting encouragement” as per the credits in the background as Duncan Mackay goes nuts on the keyboards). It’s crammed full of hooks and neat little tricks such as the ballady middle description of the hapless lad turning into Mr Superstud, and the exhausted gradual musical finish that concludes the album with a nifty bass hook and a lone guitar note sighing into the distance.
Bloody marvellous, overall.
(Cover design credited to Hipgnosis)
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