Songs From The Big Chair

A 40th anniversary celebration

The 40th anniversary of Songs From The Big Chair is an occasion I can't let pass without expressing what it means to me. I haven't counted obviously but I suspect it's the album I've listened to most in my life. I know every beat, every note, every vocal almost instinctively. Yet despite it's ubiquity and it's familiarity I never, ever tire of it. Not for a second. I have written often about wishing I could hear songs or albums for the first time again. It's not necessary with Songs From The Big Chair. It sounds new. Every. Single. Time.

The source is of course Roland Orzabal’s genius. Be in no doubt he is a genius. He’s the spark that sets everything off. The alchemy, the magic though comes from those who took Roland's genius and played with it. That and it being 1985 when anything was possible. Curt Smith is absolutely an equal in Tears For Fears. His contributions are often highlights, the final flourish that takes something extraordinary and makes it even better. That bubblegum ball in the bottom of a Screwball ice cream. Ian Stanley a keyboard wizard who had no need to be as great as he is in Tears For Fears. Roland and Curt had it all. Yet Stanley's input, little twists and turns and additions are like mouthfuls of Space Dust sprinkled across the magnificence of the album that explode everything to another level. Then there was Chris Hughes, drummer Merrick from Adam and The Ants who took all of the above and made it huge. Not just huge. Enormous. Colossal. An album that opened the eyes and ears of the likes of Depeche Mode and Simple Minds to what was possible.

This documentary explains it all. It’s a fascinating insight into how an idea or a single chord can become an epic song and is absolutely worth an hour or so if your time

I'd loved The Hurting. An incredible album that led to huge fame and Curt singing “The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had” on Top Of The Pops while the kids danced among the balloons and silly string. An 80s pop album based on the works of psychologist Arthur Janov and his Primal Scream Therapy. These guys were different. The slightly odd Way You Are arrived in 1984 as a gap filler to a fairly universal shrug. Oh well they were good for a bit. Then I heard Mothers Talk. Here drummer Manny Elias added the booming drum sound. A barnstorming, rip roaring, adrenaline rush of a song. From the first to to the last never taking it's foot of your throat. Ok. Now I'm interested again.

They followed it up with Shout in November 84 and I remember exactly where I was when I heard it. It blasted out of the Radio in the tea room of the Halfords I was working in at the time. My mind was instantly blown. Not many songs make that impact on first hearing. I'm just going to leave the video here and ask you to listen. I guarantee you still haven't heard anything quite like it. An astonishing, almost spiritual, biblical song.

Mother's Talk and Shout would have been enough for me. Confirming their unique brilliance. Then in March 1985 by which time I was driving a van up and down the M4 every day they went and released Everybody Wants To Rule The World. A song designed to accompany the US public during their drive time and take Tears For Fears properly trans Atlantic . It was euphoric, infused with dopamine and more hooks than a fisherman's basket. It’s pervasiveness in the intervening years has dulled none of it’s thrill.

Three of the greatest songs I'd ever heard, on one album. I'd better get the album then. So I did and the cassette then spent the next 6 months either in my car or van on a never never ending loop.

Side one had Working Hour, in any other album a stand out colossus of a track, idly slotted in between the first three singles. It's the greatest side one ever really isn't it?

Side two. Oh side two you glorious contradiction. Kicking off with I Believe. A million miles from the thunderous side one. I don’t really know what to add to the lyrics, the song, the video. It’s stark, bleak and exposes the very depths of Orzabal’s soul. Beautiful …

I believe that when the hurting and the pain has gone
We will be strong, oh yes we will be strong
And I believe that if I'm crying while I write these words
Is it absurd or am I being real?

I believe that if you knew just what these tears were for
They would just pour like every drop of rain
That's why I believe it is too late for anyone to believe

I believe that if you thought for a moment, took your time
You would not resign yourself, resign yourself to your fate
And I believe that if it's written in the stars, that's fine
I can't deny that I'm a Virgo too

I believe that if you're bristling while you hear this song
I could be wrong or have I hit a nerve?
That's why I believe it is too late for anyone to believe

I believe that maybe somewhere in the darkness
In the night time, in the storm, in the casino
Casino Spanish eyes

I believe, no I can't believe
That every time you hear a newborn scream
You just can't see the shaping of a life
The shaping of a life

Then we get the Broken / Head Over Heels / Broken live trilogy. Who does that? Tears For Fears. That's who. I get goosebumps just thinking about it. Still. God Roland Orzabal can sing. The closing crescendo and then that bit from Head Over Heels as it segues into the live Broken. “Funny how time flies”. Oh my goodness has anything ever sounded that good?

Then as if to really fuck with our heads, our emotions, the limits of how music can make you feel. Stirring emotions you didn’t really know existed the strings and an angelic, **surely female voice plus some keyboard witchcraft leads into to Curt singing Listen as only Curt can. Then a bit of research tells you the whole story of one of the most beautiful things ever committed to record.

Listen, the album’s 8th and final track was created by Ian Stanley (the band’s keyboard player) during the recording of their first album “The Hurting”. The song initially started out as 4-5 chords on a Roland System-100M modular analog synthesizer, but this was enough to convince Roland Orzabal that it was something worth pursuing.

Roland Orzabal said:
“I loved it; I thought it was a stunning piece of music.”

The mostly instrumental song does contain a small amount of vocals sung by Curt Smith, the band’s co-founder and bassist. Contrary to popular belief, the song does not include a female vocalist.

**Roland Orzabal said:
“I came up with all the vocals at the end, which sound like a woman! It’s actually me.”

As for the Spanish-sounding mantra-like vocals sung at the end of the song, which some believe to be “Cumpleaños chica, no hay que preocuparse” or “Birthday girl, don’t worry”, it was confirmed by the band in the BBC4 Classic Albums documentary to be complete nonsense.

Roland Orzabal said:
“And then when it came to doing those strange backing vocals, Ian was just throwing these odd Kenyan words at me, and I would sing them, but I don’t think they mean anything at all.”

Curt Smith said:
“Well, they used to mean, ‘Wrap me up a chicken tikka takeaway’‘

Ian Stanley said:
“I’d been to Kenya and knew the Swahili word for ‘chicken’, which is kuku. So the rest of it is nonsense. It’s ‘Humay ana chicken ana kuku say.’ Absolute rubbish. But if you sing it with enough commitment [laughs], you get away with it.”

Serious piece of music or lyrical wind up it's a stunning close to an unforgettable album.

I love these quotes I found while researching for this piece.

From 1985 Barry McIlheney of Melody Maker "none of you should really be too surprised that Tears for Fears have made such an excellent album", calling it "an album that fully justifies the rather sneering, told-you-so looks adopted by Curt Smith and Roland Orzabal on the sleeve"

Then writing for Stylus Magazine in 2006, Andrew Unterberger concluded that "even today, when all rock musicians seem to be able to do is be emotional and honest, the brutality and power of Songs from the Big Chair's catharsis is still quite shocking."

How do I sum it up? It’s an album that constantly challenges my absolute belief that Sulk is the greatest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s in my top two with something I’m so emotionally attached to. I really can pay Songs From the Big Chair no higher compliment than to say it exists in the same orbit as Billy Mackenzie’s and Alan Rankine’s master work. Some days, today will be one, it transports itself into a solar system beyond anything, even Sulk and becomes my favourite album of all time. Even after 40 years and thousands of listens.