Tears for Fears - Waiting in Line

Get in line with the things you know.

Tears For Fears, "The Hurting" from The Hurting (1983)

I'm already getting sore from standing in line. Amy is bouncy and bubbly, her energy boiling over as she remains stationary.

There's a couple in front of us with expensive beers. He's bristled from head to toe with thick dark hair and leaning back with the confidence of a tried and true intellectual. Her eyes are big and searching, but right now they are focused on the man, who is rambling about Tears for Fears, and she is beaming. The couple is a good decade or two older than me and Amy.

"He's just trying to impress her," I whisper to Amy, trying to impress her. "Probably making it up as he goes. And he can get away with it too. It's clear that she doesn't know any better."

Amy gets closer to the couple without detection, an advantage that short, cute girls like her have over us large, imposing men.

"He said that Elemental and Raoul and the Kings of Spain should have been attributed to 'Tear for Fear' because they were essentially Roland's solo albums."

I had just been texting a couple of friends regarding my problems with the album Elemental compared to earlier Tears for Fears albums.

"This guy really knows his stuff."

The man recounts to his lady-friend (girlfriend? fiancee? wife?) an abridged history of Tears for Fears. I heard none of it, but I imagine it went something like this:

"When one talks about the foundation of The Beatles one imagines the monolithic moment when John Lennon first ran into a young Paul McCartney. But the Beatles was more than Lennon and McCartney; The Beatles was George Harrison and Ringo Starr as well! The same is not true for Tears for Fears. The story of Tears for Fears is the story of Roland Orzabel and Curt Smith. Unlike the Beatles, Tears for Fears is a band that begins with the monolithic meeting of two individuals.

"Curt and Roland were teenagers when they met over thirty years ago in Bath, England. They got by as session musicians for British bands Neon and Graduate before forming Tears for Fears (originally History of Headaches) in 1981. The band was influenced by musical geniuses like David Byrne, Peter Gabriel and Brian Eno, as well as psychological geniuses like Arthur Janov, whose Primal Therapy is the inspiration for the name Tears for Fears.

"The debut Tears for Fears album, The Hurting, released in 1983, is a concept album intended to address the emotional distress of Orzabel's childhood with Janov's techniques of Primal Therapy. It is dark and universal, an exposition of the difficulty of youth, strange and accessible. The Hurting begins the trend of strong synthesizer-based songs, beautiful, but also unfortunate in that attention is shifted away from Orzabel's edgy and biting guitar work, some of the best the decade has to offer. While The Hurting reaches #1 in the U.K., it is relatively unsuccessful outside of the British Isles.

"Their sophomore album, Songs from the Big Chair, released in 1985, is likely the most significant album of the '80s, both creating and capturing the sound of a decade haunted by the ghost of George Orwell's prophetic political novel Nineteen Eighty-Four as substantiated by Reagan and Thatcher and of a people embarking upon an inward journey into an emotional heart of darkness. The album sky-rocketed to #1 on the U.S. charts, bringing with it the singles 'Shout' and 'Everybody Wants to Rule the World.' (The first single from the album, 'Mother's Talk' was obviously too far ahead of its time to gain popular acclaim. This is the only reason I can think of that it too wasn't also a #1 hit in America.) Like The Hurting, Songs from the Big Chair is grounded in popular psychology, specifically the Flora Rheta Schreiber novel titled Sybil and the subsequent television miniseries of the same name. Sybil Dorsett (pseudonym for Shirley Ardell Mason), the main character, is a woman with multiple personality disorder who finds comfort and refuge in the 'big chair' of her therapist. Presumably, it is this therapist's 'big chair' that serves as the stage from which Curt and Roland perform the various songs of the album, transforming "Shout" into a kind of 'shout for help.'

"Seldom does a band attain such heights of perfection regarding their first three musical attempts as Tears for Fears did upon release of the 1989 album The Seeds of Love. The album, like Songs from the Big Chair, topped the U.S. charts, but unlike its predecessor, The Seeds of Love was incapable of producing any number one singles. While the singles were obviously not as successful, it can be argued that they are of a higher quality, from the Lennon-esque tribute to love in the face of political confusion of 'Sowing the Seeds of Love' to the slow feminist funk of 'Woman in Chains,' featuring the sexy vocals of Oleta Adams and drum work of none other than Phil Collins, to the Latin styling of 'Advice for the Young at Heart' and quiet anthem of 'Famous Last Words.' It's likely that nobody loves this album more than Oleta Adams, a singer / pianist that Orzabel and Smith discovered in a Kansas City hotel bar who was able to turn her time with Tears for Fears into a successful solo career.

"The next two albums, Elemental and Raoul and the Kings of Spain should have been attributed to 'Tear for Fear' because they were essentially Roland's solo albums. Neither of them gained commercial success, but the latter, Raoul and the Kings of Spain, allowed Orzabel another chance to delve into the depths of his own past. This time he was not as interested with the difficulty of childhood as with his Spanish heritage. Raoul is the name of Orzabel's firstborn son, but it is also the name his own parents originally intended to call him before settling on the name Roland. Not only is the album something of a family reunion, but it also features a reunion with singer Oleta Adams on the song 'Me and My Big Ideas.'

"Everybody Loves a Happy Ending, released in 2004, is presumably the last album by Tears for Fears. This is witnessed both by the name of the album and the fact that the band has been active ever since 2004 in not putting out albums. In a world haunted by bands like KISS and Black Sabbath, who alternate between farewell tours and reunion tours because both present a sense of urgency that allows them to sell tickets for a higher price, I am happy that there is a band like Tears for Fears. A younger listener might shout for more albums because they just want more Tears for Fears. An older listener might complain that they've already released too many. I admire that Tears for Fears placed a period at the end of their discography and ended the way they wanted to. They have neither burned out nor faded away. They have recorded their story, and now they continue to recount that story live."

"I'm pretty excited to hear that story tonight," says the woman. "Oh! Hey! The line is moving!"

Arts and Crafts: Concert Ticket Refrigerator Magnets

A few months ago, I received some junk mail containing some propaganda packaged with a peel-off magnet. I think the assumption was that you would stick the magnet to the propaganda and put it on your refrigerator. I saw little value in the propaganda, but great value in the magnet. This was the product:

That Foreigner ticket I'd held onto long after it was scanned at the concert now had a purpose. It currently holds up my grocery and to-do lists. I am writing today to share with you the secret wisdom of the ages, so that you too can have a Foreigner (or other band/artist) concert ticket refrigerator magnet.

Step 1: Acquire Magnets (I always have to stop myself from saying, "Cut a hole in the box." Curse you, Timberlake! Curse you!)

I opened every single inane letter addressed either to me or to some misspelled version of me or to resident for several months and didn't find another magnetic backing that I could use, so I journeyed to Hobby Lobby with my good friend Gabe. You might be better off going to a smaller store, like Michael's, because Hobby Lobby is incredibly large (especially in Texas). The first difficulty with Hobby Lobby is that you are bombarded by novelty and holiday items when you walk in. You have to cut through these like one would a kudzu in order to find anything of worth. The second difficulty is that the aisles are not labeled. This particular store appeared to spend all it's money renting out the gigantic building and very little on staffing the gigantic building. Eventually, I found an employee who pointed me to the magnets. They were overpriced, but at least I had (unlike Bono) found what I was looking for.

Step 2: Acquire a Concert Ticket

For many of you, this could be the hardest part. I have particular difficulty finding affordable nearby concerts with artists good enough to grace my refrigerator forever. In some of my peer groups, I would imagine I am looked upon as something of a hipster. I don't particularly understand it, but then again, I like Arcade Fire and Bright Eyes. I dislike Screamo. I tell my metal-loving friends that they should be listening to Muse and The Mars Volta instead. I don't blatantly disregard indie music as worthless. Having this opinion of me, they might look upon my Foreigner magnet and sense irony. Here's where they're dead wrong. Foreigner is sweet.

And so is Tears for Fears. This is Adam Friedli's ticket from the recent Tears for Fears concert in Detroit. Adam was unable to go to this concert due to a serious injury in the family. Amy and I had our tickets torn, but there was one ticket left intact due to Adam's absence.

Step 3: Peel and Stick

Peel back the paper on the back of the magnet to reveal the adhesive side. I've always found this fascinating. One side sticks due to magnetic attraction, the other due to chemical adhesion. Two different ways, one result. Cohesion!

Now stick the magnet to the back of the concert ticket. In most cases, the magnet is going to be larger than the concert ticket by a minuscule amount. I chose to leave the slight overlap, as it is pretty insignificant. These magnets, however, are designed to be thin enough that you can cut them. If you want to trim it so it's smaller than the ticket, go right ahead. In order to align the magnet properly, I placed it on the table and then slowly lowered the ticket onto the adhesive side.

Step 4: Place Finished Magnet on Refrigerator

This beautiful new Tears for Fears refrigerator magnet won't be on my refrigerator for long. I hate to ruin the surprise, but this one is a gift for my good friend Adam Friedli. I'll be giving it to him when I visit College Station next week. It's not quite the same as remembering being on the floor looking up at one of the most underrated amazing music sensations of all time, but at least it can hold up his picture of his parents. Or that weird drawing I made of the topless redneck woman holding two 40s of Colt 45.

Tears For Fears "Billie Jean" Live featuring Michael Wainwright

Tears For Fears Tribute to Adam Friedli

My girlfriend and I were supposed to see Tears For Fears with good friend Adam Friedli at the Motor City Casino Hotel in Detroit, but when Adam's father was severely injured Adam's duty to family trumped his duty to fun and adventure with his friends as it rightly should. We went to the concert, however, and celebrated Adam Friedli. I even convinced Tears For Fears to sing "So Friedli" at the end of Woman in Chains instead of "So Free Her."

Well, not really, but that's what I heard in my head, and that's what you should hear when you watch this video. Adam, I celebrate you today, and so do Curt and Roland from Tears For Fears. They don't know who you are, but I've retconned the story to make it seem that way. For your sake, my lovely man!

Arcade Fire UNSTAGED

On Thursday, August 5, 2010, supporting the release of their new album The Suburbs (released Tuesday, August 3, 2010), Arcade Fire televised their Madison Square Garden concert on YouTube on the ArcadeFireVEVO channel as part of the UNSTAGED series presented by American Express.

The concert stoked the fires of my desire to see Arcade Fire live. Here are some clips from the concert:

Empty Room



Rococo



We Used to Wait



Neighborhood #3 (Power Out) / Rebellion (Lies)



Keep the Car Running



Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)



Wake Up



(NOTE: A couple of days ago these links went down and then were re-posted. Please drop me a line if one of the videos goes down)

The New Free Bird

How does Bob Saget play Purple Rain?
Justin Tiemeyer tells him to. That's how.

There is a measurable difference in awesomeness between me and your normal concert-goer. For example, I don't even think about leaving a concert until they raise the house lights and play somebody else's music on the house speakers. I don't get fooled by that whole "Thank you, good night!" charade.

More importantly, your normal rock fan still thinks it's cool to yell out "Stairway!" or "Free Bird!" When these shouts arise I think to myself, "Fools! Have you no popular culture sensitivity?" After all, the 1992 film Wayne's World closed the book on shouting out "Stairway to Heaven," with the line, "No Stairway? Denied!" Similarly, the 2005 film The Devil's Rejects gave us the closure we've always been seeking for the tragic plight of Lynyrd Skynyrd when a gruesome gunfight arises to the tune of "Free Bird." (Kudos to Rob Zombie for not playing "Blaze of Glory" instead.) If you know your history, then you know it's not cool to yell out "Stairway!" or "Free Bird!" at concerts anymore.

Unfortunately, however, there there is a kind of human need that is expressed in yelling stupid things to musicians at concerts. Just as there are checks and balances in the United States Constitution to prevent tyranny of one individual or group of individuals, yelling out "Stairway!" is a way of placing checks and balances on the possible tyrannical power of a performer. If it's no longer cool to yell out the names of these two classic songs, then how are we to regain our democratic right from these bullies up on stage? It was in response to this question and in light of my obsession with Prince that I began shouting out "Purple Rain!" at concerts.

"Purple Rain!" is golden. It's a song that everyone is familiar with. Just as importantly, it is still uncommon to hear as a request at a concert. That means it's still cool to shout it out. Every performer prepares a pat response to the inevitable "Stairway!" or "Free Bird!" But now there's a new level of measuring the coolness (and thus the power) of a performer: in all likelihood any given performer has not prepared for the "Purple Rain!" contingency, so if said performer can deal with this request in a cool and interesting way, this performer can be called cool.

* * *

Two nights before seeing Bob Saget I went to a Pete Yorn concert at the Dallas House of Blues. At this point I had been shouting out "Purple Rain!" at concerts for something over a year, and nobody had satisfied me with a really cool response. That night I requested the tune twice. The second time was with Pete Yorn himself, who didn't bat an eye at the request despite the fact that I was directly in front of him in the first row of general admission fans. The first time was with Yorn's opener, a young musician named Isaac Russell.

"Purple Rain!" I shouted. "Purple Rain?" Isaac Russell asked. "YEAH!" I shouted. Russell then proceeded to look from his guitar to his microphone and back for some thirty seconds, a look of mischief coming over him. Finally, as if he shook the devil off his shoulder, he said directly to me, "No. I'm not going to do that song."

Things did not look promising when I saw a live Bob Saget comedy set. For normal concerts, the general admission tickets admit one to the floor of the Dallas House of Blues. There are no chairs on the floor, and if you get to the House of Blues on time you can go right up to the front. At the Pete Yorn concert, a woman with a cheap admission ticket received Yorn's harmonica. He walked right up to her, kneeled down and placed it gently into her hands. For the Bob Saget show there were chairs on the floor, and these were the most expensive seats in the house. With general admission tickets we were pushed to the back toward the bar, an area loaded with pillars and douche bag college students to obstruct ones visual and auditory lock on Saget. I was fo far away from Saget that the Wayne's World line paraphrased itself in my mind: "No Purple Rain? Denied!"

To my surprise someone handed Bob Saget an acoustic guitar, and to me this was like some divine being handing me a second chance at greatness. My first chance at greatness was during a Justin Timberlake concert in Dallas a couple of years earlier. It was at this concert that I mastered surfing on the sound waves of the crowd. What I mean by this is that I was silent while the crowd was shouting, but just as soon as the crowd got to its quietest point waiting for Timberlake to speak, I'd shout something. I was against the back wall of the American Airlines Center, and in the relative silence I let out a lion's roar of a request: "DICK IN A BOX!" After about three requests Timberlake played a verse from this song: "Not gonna buy you a diamond ring / That sort of gift don't mean anything." Of course, his entire family was in the audience this night, so he looked up in the general direction of my hollering and asked, "Is it cool if I play another song?"

Saget was even more difficult than Timberlake. With Timberlake, I knew that he at least knew the words and tunr to the song I was requesting. Timberlake's concert, despite the screaming girls, had many more moments of silence. Bob Saget just keeps talking and talking, slinging insults at a rate that one begins to wonder if he needs to breathe. I found a silent moment, however, as he was adjusting the acoustic guitar on his lap. Taking advantage of this brief window of time I shouted, "PURPLE RAIN!" Saget's head stuck bolt upright and he said, "What?" I shouted again, "PURPLE RAIN!" Bob Saget began firing off questions. Had we ever met before? How old was I? Insult, insult, insult. I didn't catch all of it. But then he started strumming the chords that I know so well and singing that beautiful Prince tune. It went on for a verse and a chorus before he said, "This is a really long song," and stopped.

* * *

In the aftermath of living the greatest story ever told, I'm left with the question, "What's next?" Is there any point in requesting "Purple Rain!" if it'll never be more unique and insane than when it was performed by potty-mouthed comedian - not musician - Bob Saget? Ought I to move on to another song? And if so, what could compare? To paraphrase Prince: "Nothing compares 2 Purple Rain."

Though I'm largely in the dark as to how to respond to this situation, I know two things for certain. First, I know that there is some strange and dark Dickensian moment in the past that connects Bob Saget to the song Purple Rain, and I intend to find out more about this. Second, I know that there is still at least one person who might surprise me more than Saget doing "Purple Rain."

So, look out, Mr. President.

Pack your guitar, Mr. Barack Obama, because I'm coming at you with a personal request.

And it sure ain't "Free Bird!"