Friday, November 2, 2018

How Dare You!

Jan. 1976 (UK#5, US#47)


How Dare You (Creme, Godley)
Lazy Ways (Creme, Stewart)
I Wanna Rule The World (Creme, Godley, Gouldman)
I'm Mandy Fly Me (Stewart, Gouldman, Creme)
Iceberg (Gouldman, Godley)
Art For Art's Sake (Stewart, Gouldman)
Rock'n'Roll Lullaby (Gouldman, Stewart)
Head Room (Godley, Creme)
Don't Hang Up (Godley, Creme)


CREDITS
How Dare You
Eric: Steel Guitar, Lead Guitar
Kevin: Drums, Congas, Cow Bell, Bongos
Graham: Bass, Rizo-Rizo
Lol: Rhythm Guitar, 12 String, Lead Guitar, Clavinet, Moog, Maracas, Sleigh Bells
Lazy Ways
Eric: Lead Vocal, Lead Guitar, 6 String Bass
Graham: Acoustic Guitars, Tambourine, Backup Vocals
Lol: Piano, Clavinet, Moog, Tambourine, Backup Vocals
Kevin: Drums, Triangle, Backup Vocals
I Wanna Rule The World
Lol: Organ, Piano, Backup Vocals,
Kevin: Drums, Timpani, Maracus, Backup Vocals
Eric: Lead Guitar, Backup Vocals
Graham: Bass, Backup vocals
I'm Mandy Fly Me
Eric: Lead Vocal, Lead Guitar, Electric & Acoustic Piano, Whistle, Backup Vocals
Graham: Bass, Zithers, Double Bass, 6 String Bass, Backup Vocals
Kevin: Drums, Backup Vocals
Lol: Lead Guitar, Moog, Vibes, Backup Vocals
Iceberg
Graham: Lead Vocal, Lead Guitar, Bass, Backup Vocals
Kevin: 2nd Lead Vocal, Congas, Timpani, Backup Vocals
Eric: Lead Guitar, Levi Zip
Lol: Organ, Gizmo, Backup Vocals
Art For Art's Sake
Eric: Lead vocal, Piano, Electric Piano, 6 String Bass, Fazz Bass, Lead Guitar
Graham: 3rd Lead Vocal, Electric Guitar, Cow Bell, Tambourine, Backup Vocals
Lol: 2nd Lead Vocal. Electric Guitar, Maracus, Moog, Recorder, Backup Vocal
Kevin: Drums Temple, Blocks, Backup Vocals
Rock'n'Roll Lullaby
Kevin: Lead Vocal, Drums, Backup Vocals
Eric: 2nd Lead Vocal, Lead Guitar, Pedal Steel Guitar, Piano
Lol: Electric Guitar, Backup Vocal
Graham: Bass, Dobro, Slide Guitar, Glockenspiel
Head Room
Lol: Lead vocal, Lead Guitar, Electric piano
Kevin: Drums, Tambourine, Backup Vocals
Graham: Bass, Backup Vocals
Eric: Slide Guitar, Backup Vocal
Don't Hang Up
Kevin: Lead Vocal, Castanets, Hand Claps, Backup Vocals
Lol: Piano, Electric Piano, Maracas, Hand Claps, Backup Vocals, Gizmo, Moog
Graham: Bass, Spanish Guitar, Hand Claps, Backing vocals
Eric: Lead guitar, Backup vocals
Thanks to Mair Jones: Harp


Here's the story behind the album:

Over the years we've seen some interesting comments from Alan's Album Archive bands when an album that an artist has spent months or years working on is finally out in the public eye. John Lennon dismissed his 'Mind Games' album as 'rock and roll at different speeds', Roger Waters declared 'Amused to Death' to be the third part in a holy trinity after 'Dark Side Of The Moon' and 'The Wall' and Neil Young once described 'Harvest' as 'the middle of the road when I was aiming for the ditch!' My favorite though is when bassist Graham Gouldman was asked by a hapless music journalist while making this album what the topics might be this time around: 'Well, it's a strange mixture of songs. There's one about divorce, one about schizophrenia, a song about wanting to rule the world, the inevitable money song - oh and an instrumental!' Actually that's underselling 'How Dare You', easily the most bonkers and the most controversial 10cc record, as you can add to that list a lullaby about childhood where sleep-deprived parents swear at their children, a teenager moving on from masturbation to sex and a soap opera where a mythical figure named Mandy rises from the sea to save a man involved in a plane wreck. You don't get any of those on a Spice Girls album...

'How Dare You' is most famous for being the last album with founding members Kevin Godley and Lol Creme. What's fascinating in retrospect isn't that there was a split (not since CSNY had there been a group with such split personalities) but that it occurs here. You see, even this album - which builds on 'The Original Soundtrack's madcap range of Last Suppers, perverted blackmailers, Parisian prostitutes and minestrone metaphors - isn't enough for them. Despite the fact that 10cc have moved beyond affectionate 1950s pastiches and comic book cutouts to discuss human life in the surrealist possible way in just four short years, 'How Dare You' - the strangest single album of the 1970s so far (with the possible exception of the band's earlier 'Sheet Music') - hasn't gone far enough. Godley and Creme naturally beat this with the mother of all concept albums the first time out (the three-album set 'Consequences', which you need a phd just to follow never mind understand), but calling 'How Dare You'  too conservative an album seems to most fans like calling Lenin too conservative a revolutionary. Let me emphasis if you're new to this album (and especially if you're new to 10cc): this album makes 'Tommy' seem comprehensible, 'The White Album' seem condensed and makes everything Michael Jackson released sound vaguely sane. One minute we're in the head of a friendless psychopath desperate to turn his life around and make people bow down in power; the next we're in the mind of a madman left in a basket on the freeway whose about to break free of his perennial fixed grin; then we're a horny teenager wondering if all the things he isn't allowed to do now will be as fun as he thinks they will be; the next we're being pulled from under by an imaginary angel-come-air-hostess like that film of Dr No, No No No No. In short,  'How Dare You' is nuttier than a squirrel version of Nigel Farage holding a fruitcake. If this album was a person it would be your crazy Uncle Eddie locked up for impersonating a cabbage.

In any other band's hands this would be a stretch too far and even 10cc don't always get the balance of emotion, imagery and emulsion quite right: too much of this album goes for brains and brawn over feelings, a lot of it is too wild for all but the most out-there fans to grasp (not me though: wibble!) and the production gloss means that a lot of what should be cute and wacky cartoons come across sounding like the manga version of 'War and Peace'. 'How Dare You' isn't the perfect 10cc record - for me that's the later post-Godley and Creme works that always get left behind and even with this line-up the peak arguably came on albums two or three ('Sheet Music' or 'Soundtrack'). 'How Dare You' is, however, the most 10cc of 10cc albums; the record where every single track sounds like something this band would do that no other band would even begin to think of - and yet where every single song sounds completely different to the others on the LP. And therein lies the real reason for Godley and Creme to leave: the band couldn't possibly go anywhere quite this wild again without either recycling some of the ideas or getting ever more desperate for ideas. Lol seemed to realize this when talking to the Guardian to plug the band's 'Tenology' box in 2012: this album marks a 'crossroads' - all roads till now have been leaving to it but for the band to stay together it would have to chase it's own tail going back round and round the same path when there are simply too many to follow. A fifth Godley and Creme version of 10cc is an interesting prospect though and one a lot of fans have tried to imagine: would it have been like 'Consequences' (a jump too far for any fans to keep up with?) Like the album Stewart and Gouldman made (The mixed success 'Deceptive Bends'?) Would it have split the band between a 'wild' side and a 'poppy' side? Sadly we'll never know.

What we do know is that 10cc have gone about as far as covering the whole range of life and experience in one album as they can. What a record like this badly needs is something to tie the whole thing together and luckily 10cc are the rock royalty of the half-concept album. Every single song here is about mi-communication in some way, with each misunderstood gesture and underappreciated action fueling the flames of something dangerous. You can hear it on this album when the clearly hurt and sulking killer vows to take his revenge on an unkind universe on 'I Wanna Rule The World!!!' The quiet loony whose calm coping exterior that everyone sees is only part of the 'iceberg' whose waiting for an excuse to erupt. The artist pushed too far in his search for money that he sells out all his artistic ideals, even though that's what an unspeaking fan base clearly want. The teenager whose never been taught about 'love' and only knows the mucky tales he's learnt - and spied on - involving sex; somehow you know this lad is going to end up a teenager father at best, a serial heartbreaker or even a rapist at worst. Most movingly it's heard in 'Don't Hang Up' which, some excruciating 10cc-ish puns aside, is as simple and straightforward a song about heartbreak as the band ever recorded, a phone that's literally about people not listening to each other because the other end never picks up the flipping phone! Even the other songs touch on it; I've been listening to 'Lazy Ways' for decades and yet I've only just noticed how ambiguous it is about whether relaxing and taking it easy is a good or a bad thing; the ambiguity makes it come across as a schizophrenic discussion where both sides have positives and the narrator never comes to a final conclusion. As for that song about miles-high Mandy, everyone else assumes this is the narrator's struggling sub-consciousness talking to him and assuming for the moment that they are right (and let's face it, stranger things have happened, in 10cc songs if not real life) then it suggests another 'self' we don't know is there but is always talking to us. The overall result is much like that for Pink Floyd's later 'Division Bell' (which ends in a similar way, with the band's manager on the phone to a child and having the phone hung up on him) things would be better for us all if we did more talking.

Talking of Pink Floyd, their usual album sleeve artists Hipgnosis did the artwork for 10cc and it's one of their most successful designs, so popular that the team are involved from here-on in in some capacity until 1981. Unusually, both front and inner designs have aged better with time, sounding off about topics that actually make more sense today than they did in 1976. The front and back sleeves feature a 'soap opera' - something that only ever featured housewives, policemen and 'agricultural folk' back in the days before 'Eastenders' and 'Hollyoaks' (perhaps Manchester's premier band of the day were answering to Coronotion Street, the only one to go anywhere close to this story?) The story is broken up into four sections, but without any captions or writing, leaving the listener to 'fill' this in themselves. Bottom left, a businessman is on the phone shouting. Top left a morose housewife is on the phone getting drunk. On the back sleeve a tramp seems to be on a public telephone box calling up a pretty girl in a hotel who looks shocked (she's dressed in an air hostess uniform - could this be Mandy?) At first sight all these telephone calls seem to be connected. But trust 10cc to give us an extra layer: keep your eyes on the periphery for a couple who appear in every single shot. That's them in the photograph on the businessman's desk, pulling up in a car in the housewife's drive, hugging outside the telephone box and appearing on the hotel room TV. Unless they're sets of  quads where all four identical brothers married all four identical sisters or invented a time machine, it's safe to say they can't appear in all four places at once. So what we have here are four different stories involving four different phone-calls with the only common denominator being two people who might be complete strangers to the foursome (well, not the guy who has a picture of them sitting on his desk at least) and who might not even be alive at the same time (that's a very old monochrome shot of them on the TV). Incidentally the couple were friends of Hipgnosis' Aubrey Powell who'd always wanted to feature in some of his art - and amazingly, yes, her name really was 'Mandy'! The result is an album cover that's much like the album - people are talking to each other but from a distance and the wires have somehow got crossed and mixed up. Things are more fun but just as inventive on the inner sleeve. There's a party taking place in a nice looking house (one that Powell thinks, but can't quite remember, might have belonged to one of the Floyd) - only instead of chatting or gossiping face to face everyone is on the phone, wrapped up in their own tiny dramas. Remember, this is a good 20 years before mobile phones that like all modern inventions has become the 'latest menace' to 'fragment civilization' that far from being the 'cause' that so many people blame is simply another symptom of a human trait that goes back long before we had any technology to blame it on. Hipgnosis even provide a 10c version of 'Where's Wally', with all four bandmembers hidden somewhere on the album sleeve, none of them obvious on first glance (we don't want to spoil the fun but if you're having problems guessing that's Godley at the back on the far left, Creme's in the middle with the phone cord wrapped around his neck, Stewart's just right of center at the back in a fetching blue bow tie and Gouldman's just below him in the foreground, reaching out for a cigarette).

Whether by design or accident, then, this album is clearly about the split somewhere in there. High on the list of reasons for bands to split, right above 'spending time with my family' 'taking too many drugs' 'not turning up to rehearsals' and throwing a tangerine at your brother, is 'miscommunication'. Far from the rows that The Who and Oasis have had down the years, 10cc are the masters at awkward silences and of putting up with things for the sake of the band that they secretly don't agree with (that's why the split is the single most 'wow-I-didn't see-that-coming-one of every single AAA band; we all knew the Beach Boys, The Monkees and The Who would end the way they did - and frankly we're secretly rather surprised The Rolling Stones are still going - but 10cc, they should still be going strong now). Secret messages, pent up rages, secret desires to rule the world (or at least the studio) their way: 'How Dare You' seems like a secret glimpse into the band's psyche. Even that title, named after the single line spoken in the title song, sounds less like the subtle warning about the controversies of sex and swearing at toddlers it was presumably there for and more like a secret feeling that people are stepping on your toes. An eruption was inevitable; the fact that Godley and Creme were desperate to develop their 'gizmo' (which bended the notes of guitar strings and became an industry standard - that's not lazy research by the way, they really did call it that!) and Stewart and Gouldman wanted to stick to what the band had always been doing was the trigger but wasn't the sole cause. As a result 'How Dare You' is one of those albums, a bit like 'Abbey Road' and Oasis' 'Dig Out Your Soul' that have now taken on quite a different feeling to the one they had at the time: at the time it felt like fun as usual and it was good to see them back in any form; now it just feels like a long goodbye. The album even ends with a telephone being hung up, heard mid-note just before a 'natural' break was about to occur. If the band weren't playing with fans' minds then they should have second careers as soothsayers ('Ah yes...I see your life floating past my crystal ball...yours will turn out like...a minestrone served with parmesean cheese!')

That said, 10cc notably continue their usual policy of 'musical writing chairs', swapping partners so that each of the six possible combinations (Godley-Creme, Godley-Gouldman, Godley-Stewart, Creme-Gouldman, Creme-Stewart, Gouldman-Stewart) gets a go together somewhere, something we wish more bands who have more than two writers in them would do (the Mike Nesmith-Peter Tork Monkees combination has never been exploited; nor has the Phil Lesh-Bob Weir Grateful Dead one). That's a terrific strength to have, effectively giving us six different bands in one (heck, Godley and Creme were at least five different bands when they were together so make that ten). It's this variety, more than anything else, that will prevent both sides of 10cc from being anything like as great separately as they were apart (although both of them will give it a blooming good go, on albums like 'Windows In The Jungle' and 'Freeze Frame' particularly).
Ironically it's that variety, that need to go anywhere and everywhere, that hurts this album most. In case you hadn't guessed by now, I love my albums to be weird. Any record that gives me something nothing else I own has ever given me is always going to be special, whether it's high-voltage feedback, songs about singing toasters or china cat sunflowers. However even I'm shouting in frustration by the end of this record, which is so utterly, totally different each and every time that your head is spinning by the end. Every other 10cc album thus far has had some moments of normality to calm things down; an 'I'm Not In Love' to segue between the streets of Paris and the wronged lover appearing as a center-fold in 'Playboy' or the 'Old Wild Men' who sweep in serenely in-between a Hotel run by cannibals and tick-a-tick-a time bombs about to go off on a jet plane. The closest we get here to a 'normal', run of the mill pop song is 'Art For Art's Sake' and even that's got dressed up to the nines production-wise to the point where it now sounds like an art noir film shot in technicolor. Normally Eric and Graham are our grounding to earth but, whether in an attempt to keep up with an unhappy Godley and Creme or because their writing was genuinely heading this way anyway, they're as 'weird' as their colleagues, giving us a lullaby for a sleeping baby that's anything but family-friendly and an air-hostess giving a man the kiss of life even though she couldn't possibly exist. By the way, you also know that you've probably gone past any limit on what can possibly be 'normal' when that latter song is released as a single and held up to be one of the reasons the band is getting too 'restrictive' so you have to leave, then that is a band that's clearly gone too far.

All that said, there's much to enjoy about this album. This album might wear you out by going to so many places all at once, but most of the places are worth a look. 'Lazy Ways' is an overlooked example of what Pink Floyd fans would call a 'pastoral' work - a rare glimpse at the trees and the nature and the summer from what is generally one of rock music's most urban of bands. 'I Wanna Rule The World' and 'Iceberg' are both funnier and more out there than anything by the more celebrated Frank Zappa. 'Rock and Roll Lullaby' and 'Headroom' are genuinely 10cc at their funniest, with some great lines on subjects that you'll never ever hear again on any other album. 'Don't Hang Up' is 10cc at their most humane, recycling the feel of 'Somewhere In Hollywood' but using the laughs more sparingly, as little jokes between a couple who clearly know each other well rather than as the punchline for something clever. Unusually this album's singles are the two weakest links (along with the one and only 10cc instrumental (editor's note: oops forgot about B-side 'Gizmo My Way' - alright then, the one and only 10cc instrumental that made an album!), which sounds odd right at the start of the album) but even they only pall compared to what came before - 10cc simply have simply gone so far ahead of their old selves that the band are effectively forced into releasing the only two songs that still have anything even vaguely in common with the pop charts and aren't necessarily picked because they're the best songs in the bunch (interestingly both halves of the band rectify this problem quickly - Stewart and Gouldman with the catchy but deep 'The Things We Do For Love' and Godley and Creme with the lovely yearning '5 O'Clock In The Morning'). Best of all, this album feels like a progression the sort of things we keep nagging our bands for not making: the themes are deeper (usually), the stakes are higher (generally) and far from selling out like at least one half of the band feared this record is still very much 'art for art's sake', the band breaking up when music was still a career, not merely a living. We might not like every lesson 'How Dare You' has to tell us. We might not like the backdrop to every story it presents to us. We might not enjoy it as much as some of the earlier slightly less zany works (or in my case some of the later, less zany works) but we admire this album's world of broken relationships and higher consequences (see where Godley and Creme got that idea?) all the same.


How can 10cc possibly follow-up 14 minute musical 'Un Nuit En Paris' as their latest opening track? The short answer is, they don't: the title track of 'How Dare You!' is instead quite light and flimsy in 10cc terms. In fact, it's the only time the band make good on the promise shown in their 'Hotlegs' recording 'Neanderthal Man' and go for unusual, rhythm-heavy sounds as opposed to melody, lyrics or puns. On the plus side there's an awful lot going on in this instrumental, which features every possible percussion instrument known to man (cowbells, congas, bongos, maracas, sleigh bells and even something called a 'rizo-rizo' for which I can find no reference whatsoever in anything else; type into google and all you get is the credits for this song, a load of guys with that name and Rizo the Rat from The Muppets). The song starts off as slow and laid-back but turns into a more turbulent song by the second half when we slide to a minor key and end up in the hands of a harpsichord, before the song awkwardly rights itself and launched itself into a more usual guitar track. This song, like 'Neanderthal Man', makes more sense when you realize how obsessed with engineering 10cc all were: the band were formed to run Strawberry Studios for other musicians and Eric especially became a very fine engineer, interested in the 'practical' side of music-making; these two songs represent perhaps the most extreme examples of a song being created solely for the purposes of creating a 'sound'. Usually instrumentals don't have a theme, they just kind of roll around a bit, but as you'd expect 10cc seem to have a few idea for what's going on in this song and leave a few clues: it starts with the voice of 10cc secretary Kathy Warren whispering 'quiet!' and then 'How dare you!' which gives the effect of a romantic liaison gone wrong (seeing as Kathy was also the voice in the middle of 'I'm Not In Love' whispering 'big boys don't cry', is this later on in the same relationship?) The highlight is Eric's howling guitar which finally takes off somewhere around 90 seconds into the song and some more playing around with vocals (a 'Mexican cheer' and fed into the song backwards down the left channel). The result is one last great gasp of pure musicianship from a band on its last creative legs, giving everyone a chance to shine in turn. Interestingly, the song is credited to Godley and Creme alone although all four members seem to have been quite involved in shaping it.

'Lazy Ways' is a collaboration between Creme and Stewart that again sounds rather bare and basic by 10cc standards, the kind of laid-back folk-rock about having a good lazy time we expect most bands to record at some point but not the usually workaholics 10cc. However that's only the first half of the melody, built on a sweet piano lick; the rest of the song builds up layer and layer to the point where an angry mellotron growls in the background and we get the repetitive relentless sound of what sounds like a tambourine being thrown and caught from one member of the band to another, whizzing past our ears like a relentless factory conveyor-belt. The rest of the song then becomes a dialogue between the two, trying to find the answer to the question 'how can you work and yet avoid getting out of your lazy ways?' The lyrics then get confused, the chorus ('You'll never get up if you don't get up...') sounding as if its come from another song entirely (my guess is the laid-back start is Creme's and the punchier restless middle is by Stewart, simply based on the previous styles we've heard from the pair down the years). A romantic middle eight (with the curious line 'Holding you, with your body') confuses matters more: is the word 'endlessly' meant to mean that the narrator has to keep interrupting his love life to earn a living? The result is a second straight song that seems to be more about sound and texture than the words, but another strong group performance (with Eric's vocal particularly fine) and a lovely see-sawing melody mean the band just about get away with it.

'I Wanna Rule The World!!!' (by Godley, Creme and Gouldman) is much more like the real 10cc and is a sound collage unlike any other you'll ever hear. A whole group of frightening Graham Gouldmans march into the room on both sides before making way for Creme's nerdy narrator, tired of being bossed around and with a future with nothing more exciting than working in 'daddy's shop'. Godley's wicked mock-angelic voice then acts as his conscience egging him on: 'whatcha gonna do? How ya gonna do it?' Another terrific very 50s guitar solo then links to another James Bondy section through the eyes of the baddie willing for success ('I'm keeping them on ice, in suspended animation..') A call to a rally then gives way to what this song's really about: tired of being bullied, the narrator wants to be the bully. Creme yells his next lines at the top of his voice and turns the song into a demented Nazi rally (Pink Floyd should have hired him for the role of Pink in 'The Wall' film; he's twice as demented but three times more convincing in the role than Bob Geldof on 'In The Flesh?') Creme's playful childlike voice then withdraws, tells us that he wants everyone to be free - but, power going to his head again, he wants the world to 'be less free than me because I rule the world you see'. The scene is then pulled back to reveal the narrator for what he is: a scared child sending out an army of teddy bears and dolls out to wreak revenge, the only strings he has under him to pull. The result is a song that, even by 10cc standards, pulls away the rug from under us every time we think we're getting close to the 'truth' and one that we're forever having to re-asses based on our assessment of the narrator: when we think he's an evil demi-God we're angry; when we know he's a child venting his frustrations at his helplessness we're on his side (note the reference to 'getting a pain in the Shirley Temples', an early hint at the childlike status of the narrator). A production masterclass, 'I Wanna Rule The World!!!' is exquisitely constructed, with several different performances stapled together in a way that must have taken an awful lot of hard work. I'm still not sure whether all that hard work is really worth it - as a production number with the clever twist at the end 'World' is a song made to admire, but a song to actually enjoy? I'm not so sure...

'I'm Mandy, Fly Me' by Eric, Graham and Lol begins with the hook-line from 'Clockwork Creep' (on second album 'Sheet Music') and an airplane flying overhead before being swiped aside by a fat bass line, exotic synthesizer sound effects, a vocoder apparently whispering 'amazing grace' and whistling. We find out later that the airplane has crash-landed in the water, with the narrator thrown out of the plane (his first line is that he's 'on the outside looking in') but rather than sound petrified or angry, the narrator bobbing in the water is ecstatic. The poster he sees on the side of the aircraft, of an air-hostess named Mandy, 'with a smile as bright as sunshine' causes him to hallucinate (or so it seems) and takes him out of himself ('The world was spinning like a ball, and then it wasn't there at all!') Mandy gives him the 'kiss of life' that saves him, his addled brain setting off on a journey of exotic acoustic guitars and psychedelic effects that ends only when he's pulled from the wreckage; he asks for Mandy but she's not there. A love song to an imaginary person, created by a situation so intense and extreme that the 'real essence' of life comes into sharp contrast, 'Mandy' is balancing a lot of things for a humble catchy single. For a start we don't know who to believe: the narrator is clearly awake enough to realize that what's happening to him seems like a film (Mandy acts 'just like the girl in Dr No, no no no') and yet when he tells his rescuers later that it might have all been in his head they tell him 'no no no no' and that she was was real, yet currently missing - do they mean this? Or is that simply a ruse to keep him awake and conscious in the hope that the pair might be reunited? (note the sheer amount of denies in each of those two lines, the sort of things you do when you're lying to someone). The key line of this song is 'if your chance would you take it?' - would you be prepared to create a whole new life for yourself in your mind to keep yourself alive? And if you did, what would happen to you afterwards when you realized you were making it all up? It's interesting in this context that the band chose an 'air hostess' as their 'exotic woman' (the first in a whole sequence of imaginary confident Eric Stewart girls who'll end up seducing him on subways and all sorts in albums to come): air hostesses never seem quite real anyway, what with all that make-up and being made up to look the same. This clearly isn't a 'real' woman: she's the sort you see everywhere if you travel by plane a lot and even that name - Mandy - isn't a common one amongst 'real' people, though it's used a lot in books. The result is a fourth straight song in a row that's easy to admire and yet there's something difficult to fall in love with compared to earlier classic 10cc singles: there's too many questions and not enough answers for this to be an 'easy ride', with the sudden switch of gears every time the band break out for another instrumental making this song less easy on the ears than, say, 'I'm Not In Love' or 'Rubber Bullets'. Still, this is a lot of people's favorite 10cc song for a reason: its a love song told with such a radical twist that no one on first hearing could have heard it coming (if they'd understood it at all), traditionally loved by 'true' fans (although interestingly co-writer Lol Creme wasn't one of them; it was this song he quoted as evidence that the band were growing stale). In actuality 'Mandy' is a clever hybrid of catchy commercialism and bonkers uniqueness that couldn't possibly have been thought up by another band, but there are better mixtures of the same ingredients around, even on this same album.

'Iceberg' is a roller coaster that we all ride if we own this album, a Godley-Gouldman collaboration that takes weird to new levels. Musically this is a return to the 'Donna' and 'Sacro-Illiac' 50s spoofing 10cc of the first two albums, but featuring more switches of pace, mood and feel in its 3:45 running time than most 1950s albums. Musically this is a jolly song with a sing-songy narrator, but that's just the tip of the iceberg: what the lyrics (delivered by both writers in their sweetest voices) tell us is something quite different. The narrator is an orphan whose been 'in and out of trouble ever since they left me in a basket on the freeway' and whose background haunts him badly, even though most people don't realize on meeting him. If you do something to 'annoy' him, he can't handle it ('I might do something you might regret in a hurry...'), a line spoken in the same cool casual manner so that you probably miss it the first time round. Later verses tell us that some people believe he belongs in a 'home for crazy people' and that his hobby is 'heavy breathing on the telephone'. But these moments aren't 'usual' - they're the bottom of the iceberg society has tried to pretend isn't there and that the narrator's cruel family-less background has been 'solved' by a few kind words and a pat on the head. So what do we do? As the song says 'there ain't a thing that you can do': society is locked in this stalemate until someone gets hurt, which by the sound of it happens at the end of the song, a truly eerie mesh of distorted voices, cackling 'ha ha ha' laughter and the narrator sweetly telling us to 'get down - 'cause there's not a thing that you can do' and the threat that he might 'be back' later. The very end of the song finds us back at the end, with a roller coaster that no longer seems so fun and the electronically distorted snorting of a pig. The fight between animal and human within the narrator has been lost, with the former apparently winning. Another odd song, 'Iceberg' is another piece that just about gets away with the difficult brief of letting us 'understand' a difficult to sympathize with narrator and seeing life fully from his perspective, with no guilt no doubt and no change in his feelings as he commits his terrible deeds. There are some clever ideas and some excellent couplets (best line: 'It's me that's been dogging your shadow, it's me that's been shadowing your dog') but, again, 'Iceberg' isn't the sort of track you put on for enjoyable listening; there's only so much thinking you can do listening to an album and this track alone stretches the listener a little too far I feel, even without the context of being track five on a nine track album which all demand you do the same.

By contrast, 'Art For Art's Sake' is probably the 'emptiest' song 10cc ever released as a single. A scathing extension of 'The Wall Street Shuffle' by the same writers (Stewart and Gouldman) it features a cold and heartless riff, chilling sound effects and sarcastic lyrics about the twin competing desires of all artists everywhere who need 'art for art's sake but money for god's sake'. It's as if 10cc have deliberately come up with a catchy singalong that merely repeats the central idea in different ways to deliberately exploit this loophole and include the audience as part of the constraints: to continue to make their less accessible songs  the band also have to make songs like this from time to time and writing a song about that process is either deeply cynical or a marvelous post-modern statement about the state of the art world (notice this song is widened to include all 'art', not just music) that criticizes the fact that singles like this have to get released. To be fair, 10cc always give us value for money with their productions and this is one of their best: Eric provides another terrific vocal with cameos from Lol at his highest and Graham at his deepest. There's another terrific Guitar solo which (unlike the single version) plays on and on for a full minute at the fade, with Eric's part perfectly judged between genuine enjoyment and freedom and the cyncism of the rest of the song. Best of all is the use of sound effects which beat anything Pink Floyd did on 'Money' by being less literal and more inventive, with ringing tills and clattering percussion signifying the sound of coins. Again, while this is simple stuff lyrically with less meat on the bones than any 10cc song since the first album, musically this is another complex piece and you never quite know where you're going, with ideas whizzing past you at high speed. That lot ends up with another song that sounds more fun to make than it is to listen to, but even comparatively empty 10cc has more going on than most bands would ever think to include and there's a nicely gutsy, rocky vibe at the heart of this track which makes a change from the run of ballads that were being released as singles. The song's writers seem to have liked it as they basically recycle the idea and sound for the similar 'Good Morning Judge', their first single post-split.

The sweet 'Rock and Roll Lullaby' comes next, another Stewart-Gouldman song sung by Kevin. The song is the best used yet of the 'what did he just sing?' technique the band have been perfecting across two albums now, with a tired dad singing to his toddler in the same universal sing-songy voices used by parents everywhere but realizing that  as the youngster doesn't understand the words and just the tone of voice he can get away with all sorts of language ('It's daybreak in the land of nod, so get to sleep you little sod!') Godley's innocent vocals are the perfect match for this song with a twist and it's easy to sympathize with the tired narrator as he tried to get his child to grow up and become more independent and then instantly regrets it, realizing that childhood is too short as it is. The song cops out by the end, with the admission that he or she (we never find out which) will be loved 'anyway you are', the cue for a big singalong, but even that's somehow fitting in a song that's clearly about a loving if infuriating relationship, the narrator quick to recognize that their 'devil' might yet turn into an 'angel', unable to 'reason what is right and what is wrong'. In this context though, the line 'the sandman's gonna get you!' seems a bit harsh. The end result is a sweet little song that will be identified with by parents of young children everywhere and perfectly in keeping with the album theme of 'mis-communication' and hidden messages.

'How Dare You' then ends with the last two songs Godley-Creme made with the band. 'Head Room' is sung by Lol and finds the pair in mischievous mood, pushing the limits of what was allowed under censorship in 1976. We're never told just how old the narrator of this song is but he's clearly young and curious about the world of sex that's all around him but which he's not 'allowed' to join in with. He's remarkably aware of what's going on around him, 'hanging around' when his parents aren't looking and getting intimate, making the birds and bees go 'weak at the knees' from 'practice' and dreaming of his first kiss. Most of the song is bouncy and jolly, the kind of thing they use as theme tunes for cartoons about naughty schoolkids in the UK (take your pick out of Just William, Dennis The Menace and Tracy Beaker depending on your age) with a country-rock feel thanks to some steel gizmoed guitar. Thankfully 10cc vary this sound (which would have become irritating really really quickly) with some touches of real pathos: the moment when the band stop 'playing' and get emotional in full harmony on the line 'Oo they've been shooting me a line, maybe it doesn't exist at all' is the most thrilling moment on the whole album, making a silly song sound 'real' in the space of a few seconds. Less forgivable, though, are some excruciating puns: the title is the closest the band can get away in the mid-70s to the idea of the narrator being given 'head' and the line that he's up late because 'it's far too wet to woo' that makes him sound like an owl is so bad it's painful! Head Room' might not be the best Godley-Creme song ever written but it's a lot of fun and features exactly the sort of playfulness I wish their duo records had featured more of.

The album then ends with its best song, 'Don't Hang Up'. Godley's vocals and Lol's sad piano melody are the sound of heartbreak on a sad tale of a couple breaking up when one half doesn't want them to. The lines are very clever and like 'I'm Not In Love' tell the listener more about the narrator through subterfuge than he would ever have told us outright: he protests that he's doing 'really well' but let's slip that his new apartment is 'as safe as Central Park' (which, even in the days before John Lennon's murder nearby four years later, isn't exactly safe). This isn't just comedy though, there's a real pathos here too: the line that the narrator was never the 'Errol Flynn' type his partner longed for despite trying is one of the sweetest in the 10cc pantheon. Along the way the narrator reflects on where it went wrong, recounting an awful honeymoon ('a honeymoon on itchy bedding...dumb waiters waiting, sweating straining, all mass-debating my woman'; notice the typical double entendre in the last line which amounts to the same idea of betrayal and two-timing going on whether you're hearing it or rewarding it from the lyric sheet).In perhaps the greatest moment of the song, even the dustbin men walk into the room to give us their opinion (graham cameo-ing on the song) - even they know it's a 'dustbin romance' that is never going to work; and yet the narrator still hopes that it will. We then follow Godley as he gets drunk and morose (memorably watching vol-au-vents 'explode' at a party while 'lousy violins begin to play)'; a scene made more darkly comic with the knowledge that this might be the 'party' on the album's inner sleeve, where everyone is on the phone trying to speak to their own missing partners. He then heads for the bar with the typical stream of Godley-Creme puns that ends with the narrator imagining the pair winning the 'no noble prize' and misunderstanding the barman's query over a drink, replying 'marriage - on the rocks'. Throughout it all Godley's narrator is on the telephone vainly trying to get his old partner to pick up the phone - but we all know and he secretly knows that she never will, that this relationship is over. One of the best 10cc songs in terms of balancing the chuckles with real feelings, 'Don't Hang Up' is tremendously moving, the cleverness there to move the plot along as well as make us giggle, the humor used as a disguise for tears. The song also marks the perfect end to an album all about people not saying what they really mean: the final note of the album (which in the days of vinyl kept going in the run-out grooves until you lifted the needle off the record) is the 'cancelled' dialing tone of a phone. The song also makes, knowingly or not, for a fine farewell to the 'Godley-Creme' years: this is a song about people going their separate ways and no matter how many people wish however hard, the characters in it are never going to get back together again. Despite being dominated by Godley and Creme, this song also features another fine band performance both musically and vocally, showing all the more reason why the band should have continued and not 'hung up' on their career when they were arguably reaching a peak, of sorts. All bands should split after releasing a song like this: a sort of unified piece about fragmentation that beats better known examples ('The Beatles' 'Abbey Road Medley' and Simon and Garfunkel's 'Song For The Asking') hands down.

Overall, then, 'How Dare You!' isn't the greatest 10cc album ever made but each track is inventive, special and full of a varyingly successful mixture of art for art's sake material that no other band would ever have done. At times this album is a wise old figure delivering the secrets of life; at other times its an annoying toddler tugging at our sleeves for our attention. That's one heck of a lot of ground for one album to cover and 'How Dare You' isn't the sort of album you put on for a bit of light relaxation and a few good tunes. No wonder this album is titled 'How Dare You!' - this record takes more liberties than most: it surrounds us with madmen, psychopaths and hallucinations, bounces between out and out comedy and earnestness and after dangling this carrot of inventiveness and originality before our ears snatches it away by telling us there won't be any more, even though we've spent a great deal of time twisting our brains around to make this album fit into our understanding of how albums work.  If you want an album that makes you think and make you laugh, that takes you somewhere you will never ever go again, however, then you're more likely to say 'I love you' than 'how dare you'! Overall rating - 6/10


Here are those music videos from that 1976 album:

Art for Art's Sake

I'm Mandy Fly Me

Windows In The Jungle

24 Hours (Stewart, Gouldman)
Feel The Love (Oomachasaooma) (Stewart, Gouldman)
Yes, I am (Stewart, Gouldman)
Americana Panorama (Stewart, Gouldman)
City Lights (Stewart, Gouldman)
Food For Thought (Stewart, Gouldman)
Working Girls (Stewart, Gouldman)
Taxi! Taxi! (Stewart, Gouldman)

CREDITS
Eric Stewart: Lead vocals, Lead guitar, Keyboard, Percussion
Graham Gouldman: Vocals, Bass guitar, Rhythm guitar, Acoustic guitar, Percussion
Steve Gadd: Drums, Percussion
Rick Fenn: Vocals, Percussion, Acoustic guitar
Stuart Tosh: Vocals, Percussion, Marimba, Drums on "Food For Thought"
Vic Emerson: Keyboards
Mike Timoney: Keyboards
Mel Colins: Saxphones


OTHER ISSUES & REISSUES
MERCURY 814 007-1 (AUS LP, w/Insert cardboard)
MERCURY SRM-1-4082 (CAN LP, Misprint on label "Secret Life Of Henry")
STAR 5331 (RSA LP, w/Inner sleeve)

CDs
MERCURY 814 007-2 (GER CD)
MERCURY PHCR-6038 (JAP CD, w/OBI)

Here is story behind the album:

The year is 1983 and at last, after nineteen years at the top or near enough of the pops, Eric Stewart has opened up his heart, put together a cracking collection of songs about what life could and should be about and delivered a stunning album of power and warmth that's virtually a solo work. A car crash that nearly ended his life four years earlier, the desperate need to settle down with a worthy wife and family after way too many lonely years of one-night-stands out on the road and the sudden realization that nobody is listening to 10cc anymore so the band can finally say the things they've been burning to say (but keep being told aren't commercial enough) has lead Eric to a crossroads in his life and he's brave enough to take us every step of the way there. 'Windows In The Jungle' is not the usual collection of funny happy-go-lucky 10cc songs and nor is it the catchiest, wildest ride of your life. But it's sweet (oh so sweet!) as Eric tries to urge us to ignore the pressures and responsibilities of the day and spend time with the one you love, tough (oh so tough!) as Eric faces the fact that love is an impossible enigma that will never be enough and great (oh so great!) as he ignores the obstacles and vows to plough himself into love, heart and soul, anyway. 'Windows' is a concept album of sorts (in as much as any 10cc album was ever a full concept album; this is arguably the closest) about peeling away the unnecessary distractions of our lives and to get down to the nitty gritty of who we are and what we stand for. But, more importantly than that, it's an album that peels away the 'fake' Eric as well and revealing that the confident, clever, popstar-since-his-teens guitarist with the cool shades is as lonely and vulnerable as anyone else, if not actually one hell of a lot more so.

Most 10cc albums come from a combination of the brain and the funny bone, but 'Windows In The Jungle' is an album that comes direct from the heart. It should have been one of the greatest albums of the 1980s. Instead it's an album that picks up grudging two-star reviews from fans who know it isn't rubbish but wonder where the catchy hits went, with a sales figure so poor and a studio atmosphere so low that it killed 10cc off for good (barring two reunion albums a decade later that nobody wanted to make because they'd all hated making this album so much!) Sometimes life just isn't fair but - irony of ironies - that's okay, because that's kind of what the message of this album is too: the windows of clarity that call to us and part our own jungles of befuddlement are so small and unlikely in a modern world full of the need to be seen to doing so many things we don't feel or believe in. They don't come round often; we have to make the most of them. There is no other album in my collection that offers me what 'Windows' does; it might not quite be the best album ever made thanks to a couple of lesser tracks and a flimsy cover that doesn't quite come off, but it's close - at least for a record that nobody else ever puts in a 10cc top ten (and remember, they only made eleven albums). Sometimes my job is hard: finding something new to say about records the world already knows backwards and which most people probably like a little more than me; tonight my job is easy because I can guarantee I know this album at least as well as some people, more than a vast majority and there's a lot that's never been said. The world should have turned this album into a best-seller (it's way more emotionally satisfying than 'Pet Sounds', far more inventive than 'Graceland' and has much more of a theme running through it than 'Sgt Peppers' and 'Band On The Run' for starters). Instead it's an album that only a reviewer like me, apparently, can love and which went until as late as 2014 to secure its first ever legal CD release. Here, then, is our window in the 10cc jungle: this forgotten record might just be their masterpiece as long as you don't come to it looking for it to be a particularly 10cc masterpiece.

The ‘subject matter’ of these two albums really boils down to – ‘what’s the point? We struggle all of our working loves to earn our five minutes of relaxation and freedom, only to start all over again – and with death seemingly lurking over our shoulder at every turn, surely our priorities are muddled? We should be living to give us the space to be able to work, not work to give us the tiny space to truly live'. We start with a day that begins like every other on '24 Hours', a song that begins with the newspaper boy delivery waking up the world to a 'race everyone's wanting to run'. Across eight golden minutes Eric tries to ignore the rushing commuters, deadlines and horrors of the world and pay attention to the 'music of life' he knows to be our true calling - a tune that he finally thinks he's found before it marches off, exiting stage right, to an icy riff and a sense of gloomy frustration. He wonders why people only celebrate their birthdays once a year too, when everyday should be a day to celebrate and do something special (remember, this album is through the eyes of someone who ever so nearly died and went through a complete life-changing experience). He'll do the same again tomorrow, the realization of what life is really about tantalizingly out of reach. 'Feel The Love' is like a complete mis-reading of everything 10cc always stood for: the comedy vocals, the silly chorus ('Oomachasooma', as in the name of a cupid figure the narrator pleads to for love), the warm lyrics about love and the 'Dreadlock Holiday' reggae backing ought to add up to the catchiest 10cc-hit-by-numbers in years. Instead it's a gloriously sly, sarcastic song where Eric jumps into love knowing full well the odds of finding a compatible partner are a 'million to one' and he's going to get burned - but he can't stop himself and 'ignore this feeling'. Nothing matters more than the one you love - it's the working out who you love that's the heart breaker. 'Yes I Am!' is the more usual Eric Stewart ballad, full of hope and longing as he slowly turns from mushy insecure needy wannabe lover whose oh so tired of being hurt over and over into someone whose as sure as he's ever been about anything in his life before. And all that even though none of the textbook things happened: the earth didn't move, he didn't see any fireworks and his world didn't stop - but he did catch his breath, risked his heart being broken and at last found someone he could trust with his fragile heart, with 'nothing to prove'. Even in a career of pitch-perfect love songs, this may well be the best (well, along with 'I'm Not In Love' and 'The Things We Do For Love' perhaps). Next up comes 'Americana Panorama', a song about other people getting it 'wrong' - namely the politicians who have power for the sake of wielding it rather than to do any good and with a killer attack on Ronald Reagan ('a right banana'). They're missing the point too, lost in a jungle of their own making.

Over on side two 'City Lights' juxtaposes how alive the narrator feels when it's the weekend and he's out on the town and with money to burn, while the rest of the time he feels so fragile and ill and overworked. Once again the 'real' life we should be living comes across as a rhythm so faint we can't usually hear it except at moments of great intensity. 'Food For Thought' has Eric talking about how his body knows the 'real' things in life when he sees it, relating all the changes in his body when he thinks of his lover (no not in that way, that's a whole different album, but in a metaphorical 10cc way). Eric realizes that he's been starved of love like this for far too long and that he needs this food to 'survive', not a life of paying the bills and monotony. 'Working Girls' sounds as if it was added at the last minute as a more '10cc style' track to pad out the album, but even here this tale of secretaries being seduced by 'office romeos' is a kind of 10cc feminist statement about how girls deserve better than the first smooth-talking man they comes across. This cat and mouse game is so ugly though, so unreal, so unromantic compared to the very real love the narrator felt over on side one - surely then it isn't really love at all? Finally we end up back at 'Taxi! Taxi!', another song that at seven minutes is almost completely a repeat of the eight minute '24 Hours'. But why not? The day is over with still none of the true life lessons learnt: the narrator's daydreamed, fallen in love, even enjoyed a lovely romantic dinner that was over in what seemed like seconds (compared to the torture of watching the clock ticking down at work) and the couple don't want to part - but they have to, they've got work in the morning. So here he is again, back in the rain waiting for a taxi to take him home, all his promises of a better life unfulfilled and waiting for the day to start again. Taxi's are dangerous though, especially when running late and taking you to somewhere you really don't want to go (and especially after you've nearly died in a car crash). Is this a warning? Is the taxi a symbol of everything that takes us away from our dreams and back to the life we really don't want to lead? Will we ever escape the vicious cycle of the taxi denying us our destiny? It’s no co-incidence that this last track of 10cc’s initial career ends with the narrator poised in the doorway, peering back over his shoulder, willing himself to say ‘to heck with it’ and run back in to the arms of his girlfriend, responsibility free, but worried about the repercussions and nagged at by his conscience. The album hangs in the balance but it ends ultimately with the sad sound of the jungle all over again, blinding the narrator to the clarity of the day and which runs back into the opening song like a loop; just another unfulfilled daydream with all those chances for a better life blown once again that once more wakes with a honking car horn as we're back in that sodding taxi on our way to work.

That's a big call for a concept album and especially one that only runs to eight songs - even more so when you realize just how comparatively few lyrics there are on an album that tends to go for long massive unresolved fades (pining away for all the things that almost but never quite were). However Eric is up to the task: he's almost always good (at least with 10cc, his solo albums lack a little something) but here he's exceptional. Many reviewers have wondered if his heart was really in the material and claim he sounds bored across this record. No sunshine, that's as wrong as thinking that The Spice Girls really stood for 'girl power' and feminism; I tell you Eric is note-perfect across this album: incurably romantic, hopelessly idealistic and desperately lonely as he tries so hard to be as tough as the world makes him to be while remaining soft in the middle all the way through. There's less guitar than normal, but what there is sounds astonishing: Eric's angry urgent snarls of 'come on, put the world to right' on '24 Hours' is exceptional; the slow sad groove that ends 'Taxi!' between guitar and keyboard even more emotional. Though only 'Feel The Love' really 'feels' like a 10cc song (as opposed to session-musicians-backing-Eric), that's as good a way to bow out as a band as any, with an intricate ensemble piece that bids farewell to Paul Burgess in great style, all of the usual 10cc trademarks turned inwards to sound melancholy and eerie. Eric's double-tracked guitar solo here (performed in the music video by a bunch of fans with tennis rackets - don't ask) is also pretty darn perfect too.

Note that only Eric's name has been mentioned so far: this album's Achilles heel is that it is, in effect, a solo album in all but name. Co-partner Graham Gouldman might get his name in all the writing credits (and may have written the ultimate its-not-on-here-but-it-should-be song with The Hollies' 1965 hit 'Look Through Any Window') but this record reveals nothing of his usual deadpan touch or warmhearted eccentricity and only one lead vocal across the whole album, tossed away during a brief sixteen words on the middle eight of the stunning opening track and a brief co-lead on 'City Lights'. Paul Burgess and Rick Fenn have by now been given their marching orders, fed up of hanging around with a low-selling band who don't want to tour and getting fed-up of the bad blood between the remaining 10cc brothers (nothing specific, it's just that after so many years of working together undiluted Eric and Graham no longer see eye to eye over every detail and when you spend as long concentrating on the details as these two there's a lot of chances to rub the other up the long way). That leaves 'Windows' (plus 'Meanwhile...' the mean-spirited polar opposite reunion album that follows) as the only un-democractic album by perhaps rock's most evenly distributed talented band (maybe CSNY). Stewart out-solos pretty much every other solo album ever made by playing everything bar the occasional rhythm section himself (all those years with 10cc being the ‘in-house-band’ at their group-owned Strawberry Studios in Stockport must have helped At times Eric's seriousness becomes a little cloying if you're not in the right mood, with no wacky humor or even another 'voice' to dilute the power. But then that's the whole point once again: for twenty years now the world has been trying to dilute Eric Stewart, a writer who was always much more three dimensional than the hit single conveyor belt ever allowed him to be (he's since claimed that his one big regret about this record was allowing Warner Brothers to bully him into writing 'Feel The Love' as a potential hit single, though actually its clumsy dourness fits rather well here). And if funny hijinks with Graham is what you want then the 'Animalympics' soundtrack album of 1980 made with all of the six-piece 10cc except Eric (though funnily enough it gets a 'Gouldman' credit even while this much more solo album doesn't) is this album's close cousin, with its slightly softer, gentler handling of the same subject matters of working hard, achieving your goals and concentrating on the 'right' goals in life (even if that story is told through the eyes of a pair of marathon lovers who fall in love and realize that's more important than a gold medal - they also happen to be a tigress and a goat!) The two albums even use the same 'jungle' sound effect (heard at the very start of 'Windows' and during the instrumental 'Kit mambo' on 'Animalympics') as if the one is breaking free into the other...

From its cover down - a scene of sunshine entering through a slit in a dull grey monolithic world - Windows is an album about priorities and why humans so often get them wrong. A rare ‘window’ on what might have been really going on in the mind of its chief creator Eric Stewart, what this album loses in wacky commercialism it more than makes up for with passion and delivery. A forgotten gem that even the band seems to have wanted to bury at the time, Windows is the perfect rebuttal to every sneering 10cc critic who moaned about the cleverness of it all getting in the way of feeling (these people can’t have been listening to the same records I’ve been listening to, as they all have genuine feelings aplenty – just not usually this much per record) and a bright shining beacon which offers a fine reward for those of us old fans who’ve spent years trying to track the thing down. Remember, this is a brave album: 10cc are on their uppers and they desperately needed a hit yesterday or sooner: they could have done the easy thing and recorded eight different re-writes of 'I'm Not In Love' along with two of 'Dreadlock Holiday' (actually that's not a million miles away from the failed attempt on 'Look Hear'). For a start, this just doesn’t sound like a 10cc album. Its serious, to the point of being morose at times, reflecting about the pointlessness of human existence and the often unending search to find a soul-mate which single-handedly puts the mockers on every love song on this list. Yes, bits of this album are catchy, just as in the days of old, but given their context sandwiched in between the more serious soul-searching tracks here even these songs sound more ironic than confident. Bits of this album are laugh-out-loud funny too, just like the days of old when 10cc records were always the funniest and most biting ones you could find in the top 40, but here the humor is wry and strained, full of an edgy defensiveness and desperation even though the wordplay is actually every bit as clever and hilarious as before. This is a group in its dying breaths, riding out the dying embers of a contract and looking for another one after a record company had already lost so much faith in the band that they a) did as little promotion as they could get away with and b) let through one of the most horrible and dull covers in the history of rock (although here again that's kind of the point too: there are three cuts in the sleeve so that the grey drab outside gives way to the colorful inside, which would work better if the inner sleeve was actually, you know, colorful inside of off-colour white).

So what's the catch? Just the album cover? Well, I'd love to tell you there isn't really one, but sadly there is and there's nothing 10cc can really do about it. This album sold so poorly and suffers from such a poor reputation that this album is near-impossible to find on CD. In fact the only release I’ve even vaguely heard of is some guy on Ebay flogging an imported issue for the ridiculous price of £36 (there aren’t even any bonus tracks). And the worst of it is, the price will probably go up now I’ve written this great review for this website and someone else will put a higher bid in than me when they’ve read it and I’ll never own a decent copy of it…don’t you just hate it when then happens?! The original vinyl edition might be a better bet if you still have a good second-hand shop nearby (editor's note: it took another six years of pleading, but finally we got this album on CD for the first time in 2014 with a handful of interesting bonus tracks too, yay! That currently leaves The Hollies' 'Out On The Road' as the only AAA main album in search of a first UK/US CD release and even then we have a French import around nowadays). In a funny way it's fitting that an album about missed opportunities and ignoring the status quo should be so unknown and under-appreciated though and goes to show that you can 'fool the people all the time'...

Some albums in your collection are just lucky, talismans that offer you something they don't appear to have offered anybody else (at least judging by the reviews and with the possible exception of the people - or person, really, in this case - who made it) and which repay the love faith and hope you put into buying them, scorched reputation and all, a million fold across your life (you'll know that too if you're enough of a collector to read through to here about an album that nobody loves; even if you don't happen to agree with me about this album I know you'll have your own lucky talisman of an album you weren't expecting to be much cop and fell in love with completely and absolutely - we all do; this one is mine). 'Windows' is a grower of an album too, opening up more subtlety and ideas with every listen if you can get past the first slightly off-putting listen thanks to the similarly bland 1980s production values (though even these aren't anything as like as bad as most AAA albums released in the tuneless 1980s; indeed this album suffers from less synths and drum machines than most; you may notice too, if you're an 'old' reader, that the first draft of this review in 2008 was pleased with this album while the 2016 model waxes lyrical about it - this album has gone up in my estimation a lot in the intervening eight years and was already pretty high to start with). We love brave records with big hearts here at the AAA that deliver something a little bit different: flawed as this masterpiece is (side two isn't up to side one, while a bit more drama in the backing tracks would have been welcome), 'Windows In The Jungle' ticks all the right boxes. It sounds like no other album made before or since, including every 10cc album made before and since, brings me sunshine on a cloudy day when all I can see is the sodding jungle and reminds me that the world is what you have the guts to make of it, even with the world and it's taxis waiting to bring you back to earth every day of the week.
The Songs:

 24 Hours, with its rumbling sound effects mixing jungle rhythms and urban city noises, starts off like many a jolly 10CC song, one of those classic scene-setters that set much of the tone for the album. But the piece’s mournful tune, which keeps trying to rise higher and higher only to fall short of its target and round off with a wry sigh at the end of each line, tells the observant listener that something is wrong as early as the first verse. Indeed, even these typically 10cc sound effects sound rather ominous here, as if the cannibalistic tribal rhythms of our ancient way of life really aren’t so different from our modern days filled with traffic jams and roadworks, as if we’ve just swapped one claustrophobic jungle we casn’t escape for another. The use of comedy on this track is also interesting, as in nearly any other 10cc song this would be an all-out sitcom comedy, full of sleepy paper boys and ambitious but doomed workers that we’re meant to laugh at for not seeing past the ends of their noses. But the mood is different this time, as if Eric has just realized how much really has been going on that he hasn’t noticed and on this track its as if 10cc are trying to puncture a great conspiracy about our priorities in life. This time, the song is a tragedy, with all of our little sacrifices and efforts ultimately in vain because everyone else is doing the same thing and ultimately we all come out equal, with none of us any further on in our lives for all of our hard work. The lyrics of this even song deal with tired humans going about their daily business, ‘the start of a race all of us wanting to win’ as Stewart eloquently puts it and which the author himself had temporarily escaped (the whole of this song is in the third person, as if Stewart is calmly looking at the world around him for the first time). The song tries its best to sound busy and bustles along with several rhythms and counter-rhythms from drummer Paul Burgess on a particularly good day. But ultimately, it’s hollow: the song is actually a leisurely walking pace beneath all of this activity going on over the top and for all of its seeming drive and verve the track takes an age to get anywhere at all – but for once this sort of languid, muted scene-setting is perfectly judged, finally bursting into electric fire at the 4:30 mark. Eric makes it clear with the song’s mournful melody that mankind isn’t really getting anywhere except deeper and deeper into a technological cul-de-sac. Like the hilarious 10cc anti-capitalist diatribe Wall Street Shuffle, the last laugh isn’t on the people with money in the bank because of anything they’ve done at the expense of others – its because of all the things they didn’t do, all the important bits of being human that have just been forgotten and neglected through the protagonist’s tunnel vision, with the people with full bank balances actually losing out on life in some way. Stewart makes it clear that, in the grand scheme of things, something somewhere has got lost and that we are concentrating on getting richer instead of spreading love in the world. This isn’t the way the human race was meant to behave, with nothing to look forward to except for fleeting moments like holidays and birthdays and Christmas alluded to in the song – but just as in real life that long, slow build-up has taken up much of the time and there’s no space left for the characters to reflect on their happiness.
Eric builds up the controlled emotion of his characters well, finally letting this simmering song explode into boiling point with an absolute volcano-like burst of erupting guitar, set alongside a tack piano riff that sums up all of the rigid routine going on around it. He also turns in one of his best guitar solos when the track gets properly going, a nice hybrid of being noisy and being melodic which more bands should copy, later multi-tracking his reprise solo near the end of the song so that he seems to be answering himself, as if he’s the only person listening in this wasteland of missed opportunities. Gouldman’s belated middle eight tries to break through the song’s tense atmosphere with its tale of a night out on the town, but it’s only the briefest of interludes – all too soon the night is over and we’re back in the bewildering rush of modern life all over again and even this interlude is ugly, modern, brash, in-your-face and exactly the sort of ‘rest’ period that isn’t relaxing at all. Interestingly, this is one of the few 10cc songs that doesn’t end on a full finish but fades out gradually only to reappear in only slightly altered form on the last track 35 minutes later, perhaps implying the course of our meandering way of life carrying on in-between the other songs. A fine beginning, this is Eric Stewart at his best, balancing comedy and tragedy in the best 10cc manner but arguably with more ‘heart’ than usual. Listen out for Eric's squeaky shows over the opening as he slowly makes his way to work, drowned out by the head-hanging riff before he hears the window in the jungle for the first time that day.

Oomachasooma (Feel The Loveseems to be back on familiar territory with its strange title, daft backing vocals, ear-catching opening drum lick and – if you can track it down because it’s rather rare these days – a hilarious promo video set at a tennis match which sends up Eric’s earnest why-am-I-the-only-one-taking-this-song-seriously? vocal tremendously well. But unlike most 10CC songs, where you can usually tell the band are only one drumbeat away from laughter, the vocal is sung by Eric at his most committed and gritty. He really does mean the sentiment of this song and its not some hilarious anecdote put on for our benefit, it’s just the clothes this song is dressed up in that happen to be silly. The lyrics are a rare love song, with a typically 10cc twist in the tale. In a reiteration of the last track’s none-of-this-really-matter’s shoulder-shrugging, the narrator finds himself in love but instead of being pleased is confused as to why he hasn’t felt like this before in his life. Indeed, the narrator is downright angry that he’s been spending so much time concentrating on things that don’t really matter – as he realizes now, all that does matter is ‘the one you love’ and everything else is filler in our lives, a chance to do something before the great day arrives. Yet he’s also confused—does this mean the ‘love’ he’s felt for others in the past wasn’t real? Was he so desperate for love in his life that he imagined it? Or does love feel differently every time depending on the couple? But hold it right there: even this supposedly optimistic message about finally finding true love, which closely mirrors The Things We Do For Love at the start, gets garbled thanks to the truly depressing middle eight. Here Stewart tells us that even love isn’t worth worrying about because - if each of us have only one soul-mate out there and there’s several billion of us in the world – it’s a waste of time us looking for them and the chances of our meeting the ‘right’ person first time out are doomed to failure. This is a terribly gloomy message for a band who usually do their level best to cheer you up, but somehow the silly backing and the catchy, offbeat hook doesn’t jar – it just makes the whole subject of love sound downright absurd instead. Even a playful plea to the ‘oomachasooma man’ (a modern-day Cupid) to sort things out on the narrator’s behalf can’t quite make this song the belly-aching chuckle it tries hard to be and the presence of another fantastically edgy, deeply furious guitar solo seems to be another ‘window’ into the desperation going on in its creator’s mind, however much he tries to hide it on this album.

Yes I Am! starts off as one of those languid slow-burning ballads Eric always writes so well, complete with a bluesy sax solo, but as the song goes on it becomes clear that this is another cry of doubt and second thoughts about life despite the confidence asserted in the title. In fact, this seems to be deep down a song about how being ‘unsure’ of things is a natural and welcome state for human beings to be in and that the narrator was always slightly edgy when life seemed to be secure and easily compartmentalized. For the most part, though, this is another love song – and a genuine one too, unlike the confused messages of the last track. Thankfully, Eric does at least contradict the last song’s message with a burning middle-eight, telling us how sure he is that he’s found the love of his life now and urging the listener not to worry about who their heart chooses for them, saying that 'there's not really any reason why you really fall in love - because you can't stop it...hold on tight and never let it go!' But this hopeful moment is only a glimpse of light surrounded by shadows – this song is also about the narrator’s lonely past, ‘desperate for love’ with ‘so many dreams shattered’ before this moment. He also seems to regret his years searching for some Utopian ideal he was never going to find – as he puts it in the second verse, there were no fireworks and the earth never moved, but the narrator still knows that this is ‘real’ love all the same. Another poignant middle eight also returns to this album’s themes about why we worry about the little things so much when love is in the end the only thing that matters (or, if you like, that love is all you need). Although this song sounds far more traditional than what we’ve had on the album so far, this song is still a far cry from Stewart’s usually effortless romantic work and the ominous closing riff, which sounds like its marching off to war, destroys much of the romantic mood built up over the past four minutes. Even a pretty melody, an ‘up’ message and what is for this album rare block 10CC harmonies can’t make this song sound anything but scary.

Just as we think the song has died out, suddenly out of the silence comes the jagged riff of the last track again, kicking off the album’s most outwardly looking song.  Americana Panorama is a rather world-weary protest number, recalling the tune of Wall Street Shuffle but played at a funeral pace, with lots of odd but strangely funny jabs at 80s American politics (‘Americana Panorama! Reagan was a right banana!) sung to a tune that sounds on the verge of tears throughout. Despite the jibes, Eric’s message is clear - condemning a country that promoted peace and prosperity while providing fast food for the rich and nothing for the poor and needy and already home to a number of assassins of leading ‘peace’ figures: J F Kennedy, Martin Luther King and John Lennon. Stewart is also not the first musician on this list to point our that Reagan’s Hollywood past before his term of office in the 1980s seemed at the time as if the rubber-necked one was only ‘acting’ out the cold war (perhaps Eric should have got together with Lindisfarne’s Alan Hull and started a support group for irate musicians?) Sporting one of Eric’s better vocals, with a quietly burning anger that’s kept in check until the middle eight, this song’s brooding menace and uncharacteristically uncharitable sentiments make it one of the most unique and impressive song in the 10cc canon, even if the sentiments seem a bit strange to modern ears (we know now, many years after the fall of the Berlin wall  that the cold war never happened of course – but try telling that to somebody who lived 20 years ago when WW3 seemed imminent, if indeed it hadn’t already started). At first this song seems to sit outside this album (it is, after all, the only song not directly connected to the story-telling narrator), but in actual fact it makes perfect sense: why are we squabbling over such small matters (ie foreign policy that makes other nations look ‘bad’ and us ‘good’) when they come at such a high a price? (ie our lives). That sentiment, at least, makes more and more sense every day. Best line? 'Americana Panorama, Reagan was a right banana!'

Side two arrives and pumps a bit of 10cc’s effervescent energy back into the album courtesy of the sprightly  City Lights. A bright-and-breezy out-on-the-town song that offers a huge contrast from the harshnesses of life we’ve heard so far, its as if side one never happened. Gouldman at last gets a decent vocal cameo on this album as the gad-about-town (although it is a shame that he’s singing multi-tracked rather than with Stewart as on most of the last album) and the slimmed down band seem to be having fun with this song’s simple beat. As for the theme, its an expansion of that brief joyous middle eight we heard on 24 Hours, with the narrator ‘coming back to life’ now that the day is over and the night has fallen. By the third straight chorus-repeat, however, you’re beginning to understand just how sick the band are of playing songs this commercial, how empty this sort of song feels compared to the tracks surrounding it and – useful as this song is in context by breaking up the gloom of the record - you probably wouldn’t want to play it outside of its parent album.

That upbeat mood is rather short-lived, too, with Food For Thought offering, well, food for thought. Based around yet another of Eric’s slow-burning ominous riffs, the song is at its basic level really just a list of a girlfriend’s physicals and mental attributes, but the pessimistic mood of the song (she obviously doesn’t feel the same way about the narrator) and the downward sloping harmonies make it sound more of a funeral than a party, as Eric compares his growing obsession with his muse’s offhand nonchalance. The two are contrasted not in lyrics but in music, where Eric’s powerful rock riff – the best aural evidence of obsession since Lennon’s I Want You (She’s So Heavy) – is interrupted by the choruses’ relaxed calypso. In the context of the rest of Windows In The Jungle this is another song about the narrator’s sudden confusion after a dilemma, trying to work out what his priorities are in life again – does he waste his time chasing after someone who blatantly isn’t interested? Or give up in the hope that someone more compatible will come along? The decision is a hard one because, as the middle eight’s spiraling harmonies tell us, ‘I’m starved without your love’, along with several other cooking references which sound more forced than hilarious, as if Stewart was trying to tidy his thoughts up into ‘10cc’ mode before this album’s release. The core of the song., however, is impressive all the same.

Working Girls continues this balancing act, with a daft-but-lovable riff and punchy harmonies sandwiched between this tale’s lyrics about another lost-soul character trying to better herself and break out of the ‘cat-and-mouse game’. Apparently re-thinking his earlier stance, this is Stewart representing work as an ‘escape route’, a way out that will level out any social or monetary differences (I’m sure that went down well in Thatcherite Britain, where unfair class systems suddenly came into play again, a situation that hasn’t quite recovered itself even now despite what you may read in the press about ‘working class heroes’). This isn’t some big political statement though, just the excuse for a jolly romp and a chance to hear what is quite possibly the last ‘band’ performance on a 10cc record (like this album, the two reunion albums seem to have been recorded by Stewart and Gouldman largely separately). The Stewart-Gouldman interplay in the block harmonies - at last - is classic 10CC, with the two splitting off in different directions every other line yet somehow complementing the song well and Eric’s rockabilly guitar solo is one of his best too. You’d never include this song in a 10CC best-of - and there’s a shocking edit about 3:30 into the track that rather spoils the mood - but it’s a sweet little tune nonetheless and a welcome chance for the band to come down to earth and look at the realities of life rather than their more usual fantasies.

Closing track Taxi! Taxi! takes us back to the start, its characters still trapped even though it’s now the end of the day and they can all go home and get some light relief before things start all over again. A tale of a trapped worker, watching time slow down to the sort of crawl it only ever seems to manage half an hour before going home time, the bulk of this song is suitably claustrophobic with Stewart stretching his words out for aeons at a time. His sudden cry for a ‘taxi!’ to take him home out of this madness sounds like a life-changing episode, giving the narrator a chance to go anywhere at all and be who he really wants to be now that the working day is over. This verse’s poignant imagery and fleeting fast-moving pace tells us about all of the great things the character has ever dreamed of becoming and the delightful time he’s planning out that evening with his girlfriend. But it’s all in the narrator’s head, as if he’s slumped over his desk and daydreaming about the evening instead of being there. The ‘taxi’ riff (with the singers calling for one in exactly the same way they would in real life) is a classy and very 10cc-ish hook, taking the everyday and turning it into the absurd (which, arguably, real life is anyway). Gouldman’s harmonies make a welcome return here, sugar-coating Stewart’s increasingly desperate wail of a lead vocal which finally falls over at the 4:30 mark into an exclamation of ‘Its been a hell of  day in the city but its time to get away!” All too soon the delights are over, the character is saying goodbye to his new friend and preparing to go home, and that seems to be that for another day. The song then ends on a long slow fade, with clink-clank drums, an acoustic and electric guitar plus a keyboard all chiming in with their own rhythms and melodies sounding not unlike Brian Wilson’s Smile (high praise on this list, as you’ll be seeing later). In a nutshell, this whole instrumental passage is in counterpoint, with the four or five individual parts making up a complete new one even better than its parts, just as if the hopes and dreams of the people in the song are spreading through the population by word-of-mouth, growing up into a rising coda of love that not even a nine o’clock start the next day can shatter. A worthy close to a worthy album, Taxi! Taxi! is a sweet little sojourn offering a ‘window in the jungle’ that often overpowers us but should never get in the way of what we feel we ought to be doing.

Even though the concept is a little half-baked and undeveloped, Windows is never less than moving and often delightfully transcendental in its balance of the mundanity and freedom of life. A fine goodbye to a fine career, this is 10cc at their moving best. Not hilarious best maybe, not inventive and original best, not even best played and arranged, but in terms of songs the band rarely came up with a better selection and, as poorly used as Graham and the others are, Eric is on superb form all the way through and never puts a foot wrong throughout. This is a very special album by a very special band about trying to lead what should always be a very special life. 


Here are those 2 music videos from their 1983 album:

        Food for Thought


Feel the Love