The Teardrop Explodes: "When I Dream"

18 September 1980

"Further upstream from their once sombre, sparser sound, Liverpool's Teardrop devise a richly textured tuneful keyboard ballad (that's the word!) that's bursting its sides with lightness, depth and ingenuity."

— Mark Ellen

What I previously said:

Reviewer Mark Ellen described this as "bursting its sides with lightness, depth and ingenuity" and it's not difficult to see why. Julian Cope and his old Teardrop mates leave nothing on the table for this, even if it does go on a bit long — although there could be a single edit that I'm not aware of, I used the version that closes the kind-of-dated-but-also-kind-of-timeless Kilimanjaro. A cracker.

Pop music in the seventies had been all about mega-successful albums. Rockists will obviously cite Led Zeppelin's fourth LP and Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon but it wasn't just at the long haired metal bands and prog rockers who dominated with the 33⅓ format. David Bowie, Elton John, Joni Mitchell and (see below) Stevie Wonder built their hall-of-fame careers on the string of extraordinary albums they released over the decade. Bob Dylan returned to the top with Blood on the Tracks, his best work in a decade. Marvin Gaye broke out of his Motown straight jacket when he delivered the hugely influential What's Going On. Even disco artists got in on the act: with 12" singles still in their infancy, Donna Summer released LP's with extended cuts on the label Casablanca Records that captured to sweaty ecstasy of Studio 54. Some of theses individuals also did well on the singles charts at the same time but it was no longer a requirement and 45's were typically neutered to more radio-friendly running times.

There were holdouts to this trend, however. Paced by punk, British acts of the late-seventies began to focus on singles. Now, a lot of musicologists will go into all that stuff about the crippling recession of the time but this big picture explanation leaves out the realities of the everyday person and the towns they were living in. The economy may have been suffering but music was thriving. Clubs were all over the place and there were eager bands aplenty to play them every night. Independent record labels also began springing up.

British pop at the close of the seventies marked a return of the single as the preeminent format and many of the best albums of the time are almost like greatest hits collections. XTC's Black Sea, Madness' Absolutely, Dexys Midnight Runners' Searching for the Young Soul Rebels, The Jam's Sound Affects, The Specials' More Specials all still sound like compilatinos of singles and b-sides and they're all the better for it. (Elvis Costello took it to an extreme with Get Happy!! which was designed to look like an obscure old album and was packed with twenty soul/Motown-esque tracks)

But no one did this as well as The Teardrop Explodes. With a background in the psychedelic garage rock of Love and The Thirteenth Floor Elevators, more prog tendencies on their second album Wilder and Julian Cope's subsequent career releasing sprawling LP's of thrilling nonsense, you might assume that they'd be a more album-oriented group like Joy Division or Talking Heads but you'd only be half-right. Debut Kilimanjaro has up to six singles on it (depending on which version of the album you have) but the group worked out a running order so expertly that you'd never know it was effectively a compilation album. Imagine if the numbers for, say, the classic Forever Changes had been culled from more than two years' worth of material while still sounding as coherent as it always has.

Initially a part of Liverpool-based indie label Zoo Records (co-run by David Balfe, who also happened to be their keyboard player, which is certainly a good way to get yourself signed), The Teardrop Explodes released a pair of well-regarded singles — "Sleeping Gas" and "Bouncing Babies" — that nevertheless failed to make much of an impact. Being on a tiny imprint, this hardly mattered: the records probably sold well enough around their Merseyside base while the group played gigs all over the place. An album was earmarked but didn't materialise in time. "Treason (It's Just a Story)" became their first single of the eighties and did well enough to become a sizable indie chart hit. Things were going well enough that they signed with major label Mercury and "When I Dream" became their first real shot at the mainstream.

Ellen is impressed that they've moved on from their former "sombre, sparser sound" which is something I'd never thought of until this week. It was only when I sequenced the Kilimanjaro album to play the first four singles in chronological order that I began to see his point. "Sleeping Gas" and "Bouncing Babies" are both spirited affairs but they were both produced with that clean, skeletal post-punk sound: chugging guitars, primal beats and some organ playing that could easily have been played by Steve Nieve of The Attractions — and with little else in the background. "Treason" is a turning point, with greater emphasis placed on dynamic effects courtesy of the famed Langer-Winstanley team. With major label backing, there was more of an opportunity to explore to the fullest extent, which sort of belies the punk ethos (one that is notably echoed by Julian Cope) that D.I.Y. values are best.

"When I Dream" wasn't the most obvious single in their repetoire. The closing track on Kilimanjaro, it is over five minutes long and really feels like the sort of deep cut that committed followers swear by while remaining obscure to everyone else. (Ellen calls it a "ballad" which is only really accurate in the realm of Teardrop/Cope numbers) They could've gone with "Poppies" or "Brave Boys Keep Their Promises" and no one would've blamed them. Yet, "When I Dream" deserved to have the privilege of headlining its own single. Less dense than earlier efforts, there's a pleasant bubbliness to the tune which lightens the song that Cope is singing. A much more restrained performance from Balfe on the keys ought to have been in order but that would have weighed it down. Cope is at his best when he sings profound material in as comical a style as possible and his Teardrop associates seem to understand this.

We tend to keep compilations at a distance from so-called studio albums (unless they happen to be one of those few accepted collections like Hatful of Hollow). Listeners like to think that groups craft their LP's in a similar fashion to the way The Beatles did with Please Please Me. Yet, "proper" albums may take months and years to record and they are frequently compiled just like a greatest hits. Either way, it doesn't matter; a sense of end-to-end unity is what we all crave when we sit down to listen to an album of any kind. Plus, it doesn't hurt to have some killer singles to put out at the same time. The Teardrop Explodes did more than enough in both respects, regardless of how it all came together.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Stevie Wonder: "Master Blaster (Jammin')"

Ellen is pleased that Stevie is back crafting lovely pop rather than whatever it is he was trying to do on that Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants thing. That said, he seems aware that the glory days are gone ("Three years ago his music was a celebration in itself. Now...who knows?"). Like Miles Davis, The Beatles and Bowie, Wonder had been leading music by the collar but now he was the one doing the following. "Boogie on Reggae Woman" was the closest thing to Jamaican music that I ever wanted from him but I'll take this as a bonus. Hotter Than July would be the first Stevie Wonder album in ages that no needed to have but at least the fumes he was riding on were from his incredible peak. Being a shadow of himself would have to wait a bit.

Introduction: Audibly Edible Items

"The Leggy Blonde One turns in her usual Sweet Little Sixteen vocal," cooed reviewer Cliff White, "the arrangement and production are a treat for the feet." He continues, "the group is cooking on regulo 9", and, just to finish up on a slightly less complimentary note, "the song is not just throwaway junk." Blondie's "Heart of Glass" was huge and everyone — well, at least one critic at any rate — saw it coming. White's Smash Hits review cites it as the one most likely to thrive on the charts but nowhere does he state that it's his personal favourite.

"Going Underground", "Oliver's Army", "Love Will Tear Us Apart", "Ashes to Ashes", "Kids in America", "Geno", "Making Plans for Nigel", "Tainted Love", "Cars", "Video Killed the Radio Star", "Ghostown", "Don't You Want Me": late-seventies/early-eighties British pop is loaded with remarkable singles. Virtually all were massive hits at the time — sorry Nigel, obviously hitting the top of the charts wasn't part of the plans they were making — and they're all well-remembered to this day, even by listeners who weren't around at the time to enjoy them. Some were part of the zeitgeist of Thatcherism and strikes and an all around sense of malaise of the time. And like "Heart of Glass" not one was a Smash Hits Single of the Fortnight.

Of course the SOTF spot didn't exist in these early days of ver Hits so I've had to go over Brian McCloskey's indispensable Smash Hits archive to spot any early examples. Some, like "Heart of Glass" as well as "Going Underground", were highly acclaimed but weren't specifically cited as the best of the bunch. It's only once we get midway through 1981 that the SOTF starts to become a thing and that's where we'll be kicking things off in the next post. For now I could only find seven singles that reviewers picked out as "single of the week" (sic.) or "most essential swap for a quid note this fortnight" or — my personal favourite — "arguably the most audibly edible item on the menu this sitting".

Date	"Artist"	Single
26 July 1979	Glass Torpedoes	"Someone Different"
20 September 1979	The Freeze	In Colour EP
21 February 1980	The Gibson Brothers	"Cuba"
15 May 1980	Roxy Music	"Over You"
4 September 1980	XTC	"Generals & Majors"
18 September 1980	The Teardrop Explodes	"When I Dream"
16 October 1980	XTC	"Towers of London"

Glass Torpedoes: "Someone Different"

The spidery riffs and a hard-plonking beat make this an easy to like if kind of underwhelming first SOTF. The ghostly, expressionless vocals and minimalist atmospherics put it very much in the context of late-seventies new wave. It seems they were very young at the time — the fact that they were on a label known as Teen Beat sort of gives away their age — and, thus, were a promising bunch. Or so it seemed.

The Freeze: In Colour EP

Guest reviewer Andy Partridge of XTC — a rather big part of this maiden blog post I'm happy to report — thumbed his nose at virtually every single on offer in this issue, kind of liked "Video Killed the Radio Star" but still wasn't convinced it could be a hit (then again, he hardly possessed cunning smash single instincts, did he?) and then proceeded to give Scots indie noisesters The Freeze his stamp of approval. I can't see why. Whereas Glass Torpedoes must have seemed like an act that people in the know wanted to keep an eye on, The Freeze are just tired, churning out the same unconvincing punk rock that was already a cliché by this point. Clearly some had yet to move on — and that goes for reviewer and reviewed.

The Gibson Brothers: "Cuba"

At last, a hit! The only selection here without a trace of indie cred, this has elements of the suave, literary side of disco perpetuated by the likes of Chic and Dr Buzzard's Original Savannah Band. The catchy, discophied Latin rhythms also fit in well alongside reggae and ska. If only the vocal wasn't quite so earnest and pleading. Oh well.

Roxy Music: "Over You"

The Rox handed in their weakest album at this point but their creative nadir didn't have any effect on the public and, indeed, on critics. As one (possibly pseudonymous) Mrs Esmé Sprigg of Hounslow raved, "Stand aside. Here comes a perfectly executed pop record, reeking of class and presenting Roxy Music at their dazzling roxiest." If by that she means "by numbers and nowhere near "Virginia Plain" or any of their old stuff but probably the best they could do at the time though worryingly evident of a dullness they would never be able to shake" then, yes, I wholeheartedly agree.

XTC: "Generals & Majors"

Old Farters Parters may not have had great taste in records but he and his chums knew a little about pumping out ace stuff of their own. Seemingly as much attracted to this due to its value-for-money two record set as for its infectious synthesized whistling and all-around jauntiness, it's interesting to note just how much emphasis reviewers placed on B-sides and extra tracks in making their evaluations. It's commendable of them to do so but in the case of "Generals & Majors" they needn't have bothered as it fizzles with energy and is a perfect launch pad for their sublime album Black Sea — and a taster for what a live powerhouse they were supposed to be at the time.

The Teardrop Explodes: "When I Dream"
Reviewer Mark Ellen described this as "bursting its sides with lightness, depth and ingenuity" and it's not difficult to see why. Julian Cope and his old Teardrop mates leave nothing on the table for this, even if it does go on a bit long — although there could be a single edit that I'm not aware of, I used the version that closes the kind-of-dated-but-also-kind-of-timeless Kilimanjaro. A cracker.

XTC: "Towers of London"

UK music critics at the time were crazy about Swindon's XTC — just as North American hacks were similarly gaga for them by the end of the eighties — as this second proto-SOTF in just six weeks indicates (perhaps it was also to make amends for spurning "Making Plans for Nigel" a year earlier). Spinning a yarn over London's growth and the poor, wretched individuals who built it, the song clangs of hammered iron, which hints at what they'd eventually do on their patchy '84 album The Big Express. Clearly XTC were on course to become a preeminent eighties band. What could possibly go wrong?

And there you have it. Seven proto-Singles of the Fortnight to get this thing going. I'll be back next week with something rather less well known than Blondie, although at the same time they probably aren't quite in the realm of the obscure as Glass Torpedoes and The Freeze. They're in that pop music grey area.