High time we made a stand and shook up the views of that common man John Bensalhia on Tears For Fears’ lavish third album…
Woman In Chains
If there’s one nitpicky grumble to be had from the outset, it’s that the running order of the track listing is a bit odd. Sowing The Seeds Of Love would have made for a much better album opener than the coiled spring of Woman In Chains, which sounds more like a Side One Track Three cut than an all-important launch.
Musically, Woman In Chains is an exercise in mood-building. It starts off with a serene flute-sounding keyboard which forms the bedrock of the tune, over which Roland Orzabal gently coos the lyrics in turn with Oleta Adams, who also features heavily on the next track. But as Orzabal’s vocals get more impassioned and the guitars start to chime, the track builds up to a crescendo – best summed up by drummer Manu Katche regenerating into Phil Collins about two thirds of the way through. Mind you, having said that, Collins’ drumming sounds curiously muted, lacking the power of say, In The Air Tonight’s ear-shuddering skin thumping. I’m not sure if it’s the mix at fault or whether someone dumped a load of wet tea towels on Collins’ drum kit.
Anyway, the track is said to be quite close to home, given that Orzabal based it on personal experience of his father spying on his mother, who was, at one time, making ends meet as a stripper. The repeated “So free her” refrain at the end, takes on a whole new haunting meaning in this context. With that in mind, I can understand why Orzabal insisted that this was the opening track.
Badman’s Song
The moral of this story is don’t trust other people. Badman’s Song was one of the first to be penned for the album after Orzabal overheard two tour personnel criticise him in a hotel room: “Well here’s to the boys back in 628/Where an ear to the wall was a twist of fate.” Mind you, given the sheer amount of back-stabbing, criticising and holier-than-thou judgement occurring on a daily basis, it’s a song that many can latch on to.
The only potential impediment to universal acclaim is Badman’s Song’s length. Clocking in at a hefty eight and a half minutes, Badman’s Song may outstay its welcome for some. I’ve read criticisms that skew it for being too self-indulgent and pompous, but personally, I can’t get enough of it. What hooks me is that awesome jazzy piano from Oleta Adams, who again seems to take Curt Smith’s place on vocal duties. Adams’ frantic key hammering is just awesome – it reminds me a bit of Ramsey Lewis actually, for those who have heard of him.
I think Badman’s Song is a mini masterpiece. I get why some may be put off, but I don’t think it outstays its welcome. It’s immaculately performed, has suitably biting lyrics and is reminiscent of Steely Dan and Little Feat – and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Sowing The Seeds Of Love
The centrepiece of the album, Sowing The Seeds Of Love was Tears For Fears’ big comeback single. After nearly three years away from the charts, the duo had a lot riding on their return. The bid worked, with the single doing very well. As well as going Top 5 in the UK, Sowing The Seeds Of Love also hit the upper echelons of charts in locations such as the US, New Zealand, Italy, the Netherlands, and also reached Number One in the Canada Top Singles survey.
I love this track. I love its ambition and scope. Many pretentious music journos may attempt to compare Quoasis to The Beatles, but this has much more in common with the Fab Four than the Victor Quartermaine brothers. Sowing The Seeds Of Love is 1967-style Beatles to the max, but far from being a cheap pastiche, it also adds a fresh new angle on the flower power sound. The production values are crisper than a 12-pack of Ready Salted, but given that the album had a million thrown at it, it’s tracks like this that do sound like they got their money’s worth.
Part of the appeal is the lyrics, which are by turns caustic and laugh-out-loud funny (“Politician granny with your high ideals, have you no idea how the majority feels” is one of many great couplets). They also strike a chord in today’s greedy, consumerist, narcissistic world – if everyone did sow seeds of love, they’d probably do so while filming themselves on an iPhone and then upload it to TikTok.
This is a slightly extended version of the one that was released as a single, so you get extra Orzabal screaming value at the end. He sounds unhinged – shrieking and whooping in the background, as if a horde of wasps is chasing him around the recording studio – but it’s brilliant all the same. An instant classic, and one that’s stood the test of time remarkably well.
Apart from that opera singer bit though. What the hell was all that about?
Advice For The Young At Heart
My favourite on the album, I remember being miffed at the time that Advice didn’t do better in the charts because it sure as hell deserved to. It just about scraped in the Top 40 at Number 36 in Spring 1990, but I guess the writing was on the wall already with a switch to disposable rap, hip hop and weedy indie snoozing.
Everything about this track reeks of class. The instant whammy into the song with the manic bongo thumping. Curt Smith’s haunting vocals. The gorgeous melody. An ode to making the most of love before you wither into a shrivelled prune. That’s right folks, put down your iPhones and actually enjoy your family and life once in a while.
I don’t know how long it was before Smith and Orzabal decided on a temporary parting of the ways after this album. But the video – in which the band are jamming and joking while Smith looks like he’s been tied up to a pillar by a shady criminal cabal – suggests that the wheels were already in motion.
Standing On The Corner Of The Third World
It begins sounding like background music from a Holiday programme and ends up sounding like the apocalypse has been unleashed.
It’s quite a leap, but Standing On The Corner Of The Third World is another textbook example of Tears For Fears’ effective slow burn approach. It’s got a lot in common with Woman In Chains in that it gets more intense and dramatic as it progresses. I think this is the more effective of the two, because of its power. A good example is Pino Palladino’s expressive bass work, which gives an extra ominous undercurrent.
Swords And Knives
Swords And Knives tends to get shuffled to the back of the pack when talking about this album, which is a shame. I like its leisurely understatement, which I understand was a factor in this being rejected from the Sid ‘n’ Nancy movie for not being punk enough.
The Seeds Of Love uses more backing vocals than previous efforts, and the angelic tones of Tessa Niles makes for a nice contrast with Orzabal’s lead on Swords And Knives. There’s a wistful melancholy about the track, and although it lacks the bombast of say, Sowing The Seeds Of Love, it’s still one of my album picks.
Year Of The Knife
This was another one touted as the opening track, but I think slotting it in as the penultimate offering is just about right. Maybe it’s because it sounds like it was recorded live, although I’m pretty sure that this is a studio-based version with crowd noise dubbed over it.
Said to have been inspired by Tom Petty’s American Girl, Year Of The Knife is more straight-ahead rock than most of its stablemates, although it does have influences of soul and gospel thrown in the mix – most notably in the seemingly non-stop “This is the year of the knife” squawking from the backing vocalists. There’s also a curious orchestral interlude which does seem a bit out of kilter with the overall prog rock feel. For me, Year Of The Knife contains much that is good, but it doesn’t quite gel as well, with the random influences being a bit too disjointed for my liking. Plus, at seven-odd minutes, this does outstay its welcome a bit. Less Year Of The Knife, more Century Of The Knife.
Famous Last Words
A defiantly sombre conclusion to what’s generally a top quality album. Famous Last Words does lack the ethereal weirdness of previous album closer Listen, but it’s still a solid ballad that boasts a strong, committed vocal from Orzabal. Nicky Holland’s Kurtzweil strings add some grandiose atmosphere too.
I never knew this was released as a single, but it barely made an impact in the Summer of 1990, crawling in at Number 83. That said, it works better as an album track rather chart fodder.
(Cover design credited to David Scheinmann and Stylorouge)
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