A few years ago I read an interview with a “hot” young
musician, who subsequently faded away (forgive my feeble memory; I don’t
remember his name; it’s on the tip of my tongue…), who was backhandedly complimenting
Tears for Fears during their commercial heyday, citing their classic pop hits,
like “Everybody Wants To Rule The World,” “Shout,” and “Sowing The Seeds Of Love,” as “wonderful, but dated, forever stuck in 1980’s synthesizers.” I have
to disagree. I liken describing Tears for Fears’ music as “stuck in the
1980’s,” to saying David Bowie’s music is stuck in the 1970’s. Is it a product
of its cultural and musical timeframe? Certainly, but isn’t that precisely from
where it derives its artistic power and musical strength? Isn’t that the job of
pop music, to reflect the mores and zeitgeist of the moment in 3-minute
verse-chorus-verse format?
But hype is fascinating like that. Don’t believe me? Watch
your facebook newsfeed evolve after a national event; it serpentines, with facebook friends
jumping on the bandwagon of the thought-o-the-moment with cattle stampede-like trajectories of opinion. And so it goes
with the music industry that hypes “the next big thing,” only to turn
180 degrees months, weeks, days later when it appears the trend is going in a
different direction. Popular music is riddled with artists who should have been
the “second coming,” only to fall short when trends shift. To wit, in the 1970’s,
insiders speculated that The Knack was, secretly, the re-formed Beatles
(sigh…if only), in the 1980’s, Terence Trent D’Arby was supposed to be the
second coming of James Brown (sadly, not), and in the 1990’s, Sophie B. Hawkins
was supposed to alter the direction of popular music (that said, I still enjoy
her eccentric, sadly underappreciated music). And after their 15 minutes of
fame were spent, these artists faded into their respective obscurities.
Such was the case with Tears for Fears much touted third release, The Seeds Of Love. Buoyed by the
accumulated success of their previous two albums, the critically acclaimed, but
slow-burning (in the U.S.) debut, The
Hurting, and the world-wide, multi-platinum smash of Songs From The Big Chair, Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith were poised
for musical world domination with their highly and long-anticipated follow-up, The Seeds Of Love. Indeed,
arriving four years after its predecessor, The
Seeds Of Love was to be the next big thing. How could it not be that? The first single, “Sowing The Seeds Of Love,” with it’s
Beatles-influenced backdrop and inventive, accompanying video, rocketed to #2
on the Billboard chart and worked the awaiting, record-buying public into a
frenzied froth (as a good lead-off single should). So much so, that in its November
1989 album review, the trend-conscious Rolling
Stone magazine gave the album an almost perfect review: four out of five
stars, reviewer Michael Azerrad stated, “…it's exciting that such
thought-provoking music will undoubtedly be so widely heard. If with the title
track Tears for Fears beg comparison to the Beatles, it's in the unspoken
assertion that popular music can also be outstanding music. That's something
this remarkable record proves over and over again.”
Well said, Mr. Azerrad,
well said. But just one year later in its year-end issue, the same publication
trashed the album, calling the songs meandering and “overlong.” So which is it,
Rolling Stone? What changed about the
album in 10 months? Was it good or not? Apparently not, or maybe something else
was afoot. After all, the subsequent singles from the album faired far less
than the leadoff single (hard to imagine a feminist anthem competing strongly against
the featherweight pop of Wilson Phillips, Michael Bolton, and Milli Vanilli).
MTV, pop radio, and the record-buying public couldn’t be wrong about this
one…right?
Whichever way you look at it, I’m inclined to agree with
Azerrad’s original opine: The Seeds Of
Love is a remarkable piece of work, likely the duo’s best effort, and
worthy of another listen (or two or three…). Featuring only eight songs, side
one became the “singles” side, featuring three of the most well-known singles
from the album, the grandiose, everything-but-the-kitchen-sink #2 smash, “Sowing The Seeds Of Love,” the sensitive-man-as-feminist duet with (the stunning) Oletta Adams,
“Woman In Chains,” and the playful, sunshine pop confection, “Advice For The Young At Heart,” with the borrowed John Lennon line, “Love is a promise, love
is a souvenir; once given, never forgotten, never let it disappear…” The final
song on the album, “Famous Last Words,” while one of my favorite tracks, was
released as the album’s last single but disappeared without a trace as the
album, by that time, had been widely forgotten by all parties concerned.
While references to The Beatles are undeniable (even down to
the Sgt Pepper’s-like collage of an album cover), I liken The Seeds Of Love less to any, one Beatles album than I would
compare it to Pink Floyd’s perennial classic, Dark Side of The Moon, with its swirling jazz riffs, melancholy
atmospherics, sweeping soundscapes, and soulful, tortured vocals by Oletta Adams, who went on to a highly successful career as a soul singer after being
launched by this album. Indeed, the tracks on Seeds Of Love, like the tracks on Dark Side
Of The Moon, are longer than the standard pop song, clocking-in at an
average of over 6 minutes, but Orzabal seemed to be going more for Alan Parsons style epics than catchy 3 minute pop petit fours. Viewing his entire catalogue,
I’ve come to believe that Roland Orzabal can’t not write a song without a tangible melody, and Seeds Of Love is no exception. That
said, the album is scarce on pop hooks, per se, but the album seems crafted to build a significantly
more satisfying musical experience over time, with repeated listens, much like Dark Side Of The Moon’s epic journey, except instead of a musical case study in madness, Seeds Of Love examines a road map of the human heart. We seem to still need that...
