The story goes like this. Way back in 1980 there was a band from Bath called Graduate, a five piece with a tiggerish young frontman called Roland Orzabel. They traded in bouncy new wave/mod/power pop - think pound shop Elvis Costello, Joe Jackson, XTC. Now, I’m not saying they weren’t serious artists, but their first single, Mad One, was commissioned by a local car number plate trader and named in honour of his own plate (MAD 1). Nothing like getting your selling out in early, I guess.
They were doing OK - they had a top ten hit in Spain, and embarked on long tours across Europe. But Orzabel and his bud, bass player Curt Smith, weren’t happy. Both were products of tough childhoods and broken families, both were into psychology. They got to thinking that they’d like to make music about something a bit more substantial than, you know, number plates.
They noticed that a bunch of bands were breaking through using new technology, making strange and haunting electronic sounds. They thought, hey, why don’t we quit the band and make a synth album about child psychology? So they called the the record company who were like, yeah, OK. But then you could do that sort of thing in 1981. Back then singles that reached no 68 in the charts still sold two million copies, so people were more chill.
If there were any doubts the first single put them to bed. Suffer the Children was a revelation - both catchy and emotionally affecting, it was a million miles from Graduate. It wasn't a hit, but they didn't have to wait long for one. Curiously, Orzabel said he wrote Mad World after hearing Duran Duran’s Girls on Film and thinking ‘I’ll have a go at something like that’. The images of worn out faces 'going nowhere' are about as far from Duran's glossy aesthetic as you can get, and so much better for it.
And the album was fab too - turns out synths and drum machines could capture a sense of unease, of dislocation, far more effectively than Lennon’s stale old rockers ever could. Indeed, with the band jettisoned it was pretty much just the two of them on the record. Such is the relentlessness of the subject matter, though, you do half expect the inner child to pop up on backing vocals.
From third rate Costello knock-offs to a hugely successful electronic concept album about childhood trauma. An hugely unlikely, greatly cheering triumph - but what would they do next? In the end they went away, took some advice about cracking America and came back with Shout. And it was over. Don’t get me wrong, it was OK, but the introspection, the searching, the quiet...that was over.
Next: Brian Wilson
