Head Over Heels: Rating the Albums of Tears For Fears

Tears for Fears were the greatest band of the ‘80s. How can we be sure? Come join Hope and Matthew aka the PuR crew, as we dissect the discography and explain.

HOPE: I could never have an impassioned conversation about who the greatest guitarist is in the history of popular music. There are plenty I genuinely like, but I have no definitive, slam-my-fist-on-the-table feelings for any one person. But a passionately irrational argument about which ‘80s band is the greatest? I am all in on that conversation. Most especially those bands that were part of The Second British Invasion, that spectacular wrinkle in time that ran from 1982 on through to the latter half of the decade, when the American pop charts were overtaken by billions of brilliantly bold and brazen artists from the UK. 

The “Second British Invasion” was pervasive enough to infiltrate the pages of a popular, mainstream U.S. news magazine. Also, don’t ask me to choose, I was in love with both of these candy-colored people.

While there were a lot of fabulously fun bands shining at that time-—Culture Club, Eurythmics, and ABC among them—NONE were bigger than Duran Duran. They were the most popular gang in school. The biggest babes with the most voluptuous videos, serving up the most pulchritudinous pop tunes and personas. They were all over the walls of my teenage bedroom, oh yes they were. I’m on the hunt, I’m after YOU.

The Durans aggressively smoldering (just as important as the music)

Looking back and listening forty-plus years later, it’s clear now that Duran were as much a fabulous cultural artifact as they were a band. Remove the visuals and the mania they generated in their heyday and you’re left with only one truly great album (that’d be Rio) surrounded by a slate of just okay ones. There were some brilliant singles sprinkled over those “just okay” LPs. But they were also populated by a copious amount of mostly just charming filler.

Because we are f-ing nerds here at PuR, that got us thinking; Who was the greatest ‘80s band in terms of musical achievement, like for real? The band whose albums not only brought back memories but sounded exponentially better as years passed (and as a bonus, were miraculously still capable of making beautiful music decades past their youthful heyday)?

There were a lot of candidates, from the Pet Shop Boys to Depeche Mode to the more short-lived Smiths. On the personal preferences side, Matthew absolutely freakin’ loves the aforementioned Pets, I’m consumed with adoration for The Psychedelic Furs (the 1984 version of Richard Butler was my dreamboy), and we both worship at the Wham!-George Michael altar.

But when it came to songs, albums and sustained goodness over subsequent decades, one band—one duo—kept coming up again and again. Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith, aka Tears for Fears. Were they the ‘80s greatest Second British Invasion™ band?

Tears for Fears, which we’ll truncate to TFF since we’re gonna be saying it so much going forward, were not glamour-pusses swanning around shirtless in tropical locales in videos. They were not obvious hotties. TFF made albums for introspective, diary-writers and secret crush proprietors. They didn’t do filler. Their songs were not hedonistic. They were cerebral and gloriously, swooningly melodic. Anthemic and emotional. Gigantic and introverted. Amazing.

MATTHEW: Beautifully put. Amazing, indeed. Of all the bands that were both massively popular, yet also seemed to be making records just for me, right as I was turning from a teen into a twentysomething, TFF were—around 1983-1985—top of the list.

But TFF as the greatest band of the Second British Invasion? I love that as a provocative claim, bound to provoke spirited discussion and partisan indignation. When you first said that, Hope, I was skeptical. Partly because I do indeed love the Pet Shop Boys. But also because TFF had only one hit album in the US during those Invasion years—their sophomore masterpiece, Songs From the Big Chair. As we’ll see, although their debut hit the #1 spot in the UK right as the Invasion was peaking, it was DOA in the US. And the third album took so long to make, the Invasion was history by the time it was released. So among the fifty or so British acts that are potentially associated with the Invasion, are TFF with that one hit album really the greatest? Mmmm.

And yet … that 1985 album was so massive, it continues to resonate forty years on. Its hit singles have never gone away. You pointed me to recent streaming numbers, and those for the songs from Songs are crazy high—more than any other Invasion band (aside from Wham! but only if combined with George’s numbers). “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” seems to be everywhere these days. It has achieved the rare status of being truly timeless (can’t you imagine it still being played centuries from now?). And it isn’t even the only track from Songs still being widely played (surely that whole album will still be in the air centuries in the future!). Another point to support your claim: Invasion bands like Duran Duran went on to produce a patchy catalog, while others like Culture Club, Spandau Ballet, and the Thompson Twins soon faded away. But TFF created an astoundingly consistent catalog. Yes, it’s very small, and only half the duo made two of the seven albums. But it’s still fantastic from start to finish. We can agree on that—even if we argue over which albums were the most fantastic. So, let’s get to arguing!

BREAK IT DOWN AGAIN: Just a note on the format of this essay. Matthew and I are going to be taking turns shouting our TFF assessments, and our names will appear before our respective comments. The peak chart positions in the UK and US for each album are listed beneath their titles. We are going to rate each album individually as we go (on a classic 1-10, hate-to-love scale).

MATTHEW: That means just those seven studio albums, but don’t worry, you completists, we will also chat briefly about the live and compilation albums, including the hybrid oddball that came out in 2024. There’ll be plenty of opinionating on that and all the albums. Will we agree on what is the best and worst? I have a feeling that we may not. 

The Seven Studio Albums

The Hurting (1983)

UK: 1. US: 73.

HOPE: Roland and Curt’s coming together as young teens over a shared interest in the work of psychologist-psychotherapist Arthur Janov (aka the creator-promoter of primal scream therapy) has been well-documented. Nearly every review and breakdown of their history, and of their first album in particular, cites this fact, and yes, I too am doing it at this very moment. It’s an undeniably crucial part of the TFF origin story (It even inspired their band name). But it’s important to remember that Roland and Curt were also young lads who freakin’ loved pop and (especially) rock music. While Janov’s theories of emotional exorcism held a fanatical fascination for them, so did bands like devil-loving, Long Island rock gods Blue Oyster Cult, rock shockmeister Alice Cooper (Curt fave) and the Peter Gabriel-helmed Genesis (Roland loved the Foxtrot album as well as King Crimson’s Discipline LP). 

In 1979, the UK chart pop chart was officially infiltrated by “the sound of the future”… or, to be more specific, by synthesizer-wielding, robot-fetishizing, early-Ultravox-loving Gary Numan. His first solo single, the wholly electronic, “Are Friends Electric,” crazily, defiantly, went all the way to number (freakin’) ONE. In the process, it made the songs in the pop chart surrounding it sound very old indeed. It was a thrilling sonic slap to tradition, and a major influence on TFF’s initial musical direction. To paraphrase what Roland has alluded to in a number of interviews, who needed a band when a synth could play every part? 

The (reductive) equation goes something like this: Arthur Janov + childhood trauma + eclectic rock fandom + the burgeoning sound of synthpop = The Hurting

Unlike their eighties pop contemporaries Culture Club and Duran Duran, TFF’s first album The Hurting isn’t fun. There’s no equivalent to the former’s playful-joyful “I’ll Tumble 4 U” or party-porny “Girls on Film”. No,The Hurting is firmly rooted in your lonely teenage bedroom, being looked down upon by posters of worlds-away pop/film idols, whilst rain beats gently against your window, sigh (I see you, former and current teenagers). 

The Hurting oozes lyrical pain from its every pore. “Torture,” “dying,” and “failure” all get namechecks. Its most musically upbeat track is called “Suffer the Children.” But here’s the thing, it is absolutely,100% a pop record, bursting with nifty hooks and memorable choruses. While the lyrics can sound comically angsty at certain points (“Will I ever love again?”), the melodic sophistication is undeniable. Roland composed all the tracks in his late teens/early twenties and it’s sick how good he was from the start. 

MATTHEW: Yes, Roland’s gift for melodies has always been stunning, and it was evident from the start. You can hear incipient melodic hooks straining to burst forth in the album before The Hurting—made by Roland and Curt’s first band, Graduate, when they were still teenagers. Titled Acting My Age (1980), it is really not very good, but it shows Roland’s pop potential and lacks the dark child-abuse theme of The Hurting. Which begs the question: was the TFF debut a UK smash because of that theme, or despite it? And what of its failure in the US? Look at the contrast between its UK and US chart placings! In one of the most creative years in British pop/rock history, packed with future classic albums, this startlingly original debut from a new boy-duo hit #1, settling into the UK album chart for 65 weeks—in a year that happened to be the peak of that Second British Invasion. So, surely the album was a shoe-in for reaching the Top 40 in the US, if not higher? After all, a smidgeon under two years later, the follow-up album would reach #1 in the US. So what went wrong stateside with The Hurting?

There are many answers to that question to do with marketing and touring. But those aside, I think that you, Hope, put your finger on the key feature of the album: it combines catchy, melodic pop with agonizingly dark lyrics, a dissonance that was familiar to young British audiences but far from mainstream in the US. After all, less than a year before The Hurting was released, and six months before the hypnotic “Mad World” became TFF’s first UK hit single, Japan’s melodious but gloomy “Ghosts” reached #5; and neither that song, nor any single by Japan, ever charted in the US (forgive the plug here: see my recent book Ghosts: Journeys to Post-Pop). So, in the end, no wonder.

But here’s the twist. I can see US radio station programmers dismissing Hurting singles as being bummers, based on superficial and partial listens, lacking the time or inclination to give the album some time. For this is an album that needs time. And in time it did find an audience in the US—aided, of course, by the massive success of Songs from the Big Chair—and that appreciation has steadily increased over the decades. Yet I suggest that was not just because American listening tastes became more sophisticated or were liberated from dependence on radio. I think it was also because the album is, in the end, not so grim. 

Sure, the lyrics don’t become any less dark just from repeated listens. But they lose that impact through familiarity, and especially when they fade into the background in a packed pub or rowdy club setting. Then the melodies and rhythms come to the fore, and all you hear are great pop songs. And the album is packed with great pop. Am I saying I danced in clubs to “Pale Shelter” and “Change”? You bet I did. Awkward teenage dancing in the kinds of clubs in Oxford, London, and Tokyo where kids like me could dance to songs like that (I’m talking about grungy student bars and very un-hip clubs, so forgive the obnoxious placename-dropping—it’s just where I was in those years). So, bad dancing, but dancing nonetheless, carefree gyrations with smiles on our faces to lines like the opening to “Suffer the Children”—”It’s a sad affair, when there’s no one there, he calls out in the night”—lines which me and my friends even sang out loud while grinning and grooving! And yes, we also danced to “Suffer the Children” and “Memories Fade”—which was not one of the four singles, but still stands out as one of TFF’s most compelling songs.

“And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, the dreams in which I’m dying, are the best I’ve ever had”. Curt angst-ing out in the “Mad World” video.

HOPE: Oh man Matthew, I am so sorry we never got to dance together as teenagers to “Pale Shelter” or “Change”. It’s not too late though. Maybe someday we can hit one of those Gen X ‘80s club nights I’ve heard about and humiliate ourselves (with reckless abandon of course). Shit, even talking about it thrills me, but I digress.

So, The Hurting was played on U.S.radio … but only on a select few, highly curated, big market stations focused specifically on New Wave like KROQ in Los Angeles and my teenage lord and savior WLIR/WDRE in New York (which is where I heard TFF for the first time). What was pop in the UK—with its more broadminded, forward thinking charts—was regarded as “alternative” or “new wave” in the US. My teenage memory insists that it was the success of Human League’s “Don’t You Want Me” that opened the floodgates in the minds of mainstream radio programmers. It definitely felt like some kind of sonic turning point (the charts were a Kenny Rogers-Air Supply-REO Speedwagon-West Coast aka Yacht Rock playground at that point). Human League sounded like the future.

Anchoring The Hurting are three classic singles, all of which feature Curt on lead vocals and boast beautious, barnacle-like choruses. All hail to “Change”, “Mad World” and “Pale Shelter”—whose falsetto I’ll have all day. Oddly, despite all that, my first favorite song off this thing was one of the deep cuts, the bouncy, bloody, and bangin’ “Watch Me Bleed.” I was particularly taken with its “for one so young, I feel so old” line when I first heard it as a ‘80s teen. I quite literally thought, “that’s me, that’s how I feel” and played the song repeatedly on my precious Sony Walkman as I trundled to school (I’m not laughing at you teen Hope, you sensitive plant, I’m laughing with you).

For such a dark piece of work, The Hurting is—gonna use a fake word here—ridiculously singalong-able, ideal for old or burgeoning New Wavers wanting to harmonize on a road trip or have a dance to. There aren’t any weak tracks. Even the “filler” is good, from the title track to the anthemic, sax-y ”Memories Fade” to the Peter Gabriel-esque “Start of the Breakdown” to the OMD meets Depeche vibe of “The Prisoner”, to the moody Roland-vocal-showcase “Ideas as Opiates.” The Hurting served as a brilliant preface for what was to come, aka true pop heaven.

MATTHEW: I totally agree with you about “Watch Me Bleed.” For that to be your first favorite song on the album isn’t so odd, Hope. After all, you—like me, and no doubt like you, dear reader—were a pop-music-obsessed youth, innately and deeply capable of receiving and feeling the emotional impact of pop, especially pop that so deftly delivered feelings in the genre’s lyric-melody-rhythm package.

However, I am going to quarrel with you a little about filler. I think 8 of the 10 tracks on The Hurting are absolutely killer, time-tested angst-pop dark-yet-danceable gold. But the fourth track on each side (that’s “Ideas as Opiates” and “The Prisoner,” tracks 4 and 9 for you streamers and CD players) mar the album. They’re better as interesting, experimental B-sides (“Ideas” started out as the B-side to “Mad World,” and “Prisoner” was on the flipside of “Pale Shelter”). Without them, the album would be a 10/10 serving of—to borrow your phrase, Hope—true pop heaven. 

HOPE: You know, as I sit, contemplate and re-listen, I find myself agreeing with you in regards to both “Ideas as Opiates” and “The Prisoner”. They are decent enough songs, but I recognize that they aren’t in the same league as the rest of their Hurting groove-mates. I think listening to the album as a whole for this essay, after decades of cherry-picking clouded my judgement, meaning, the two tracks weren’t as unspecial as I remembered them to be…but that doesn’t make them special. 

Rating: HOPE: 8/10. MATTHEW: 8/10.

Songs From The Big Chair (1985)

UK: 2. US: 1.

MATTHEW: I have a feeling that we are going to differ here, Hope, right from the start of our discussion of Songs from the Big Chair (hereafter SFTBC?). And some readers will feel the way I do, others will be with you. What am I talking about? “Shout”! I never get tired of it. It has thrilled me for forty years. I’m still happy to hear it come on the radio or in the grocery store, but it deserves more than that: Ingest or hold in your hand your stimulant or relaxant of choice, cue up this album on a great-sounding system or in your best cans, and play it loud as f–k! “Shout” is a plea for help, a call to arms, a celebration of personal power, with music that is so visceral, so sublimely simple yet intricately constructed, that it can still give me goosebumps and bring tears to my eyes. And you absolutely need the full 6’31” album version (the UK single edit is a travesty, the US single edit a crime), in order to really appreciate the way the song builds to its epic climax. It is chorus-forward, without a traditional verse-chorus structure, underpinned by a synth-drone and hook upon which layers of vocal and instrumentation are steadily added. Roland has called it a mantra, and as such it is one of my very favorites, with incredible drumming (by Chris Hughes, who also produced it—among his best work ever) and great solos (I think that is Roland’s guitar and Ian Stanley on the Hammond and Prophet-5). It’s so damn good that you fear for the rest of the album. Will this be one of those records on which one #1 smash success fatally overshadows the rest of the album?

HOPE: True confession: as you guessed, I’m not really into “Shout.” Yes, it is one of TFF’s most beloved tracks, and was the lead single and album opener on SFTBC (yes, let’s call it that). And I wholeheartedly acknowledge that it is a sturdy, generational stadium anthem and a crucial part of this short king of an album. But even back in the day, when I was obsessively listening to SFTBC, I would skip over it (an easy turntable move to navigate as it was the opening track) and begin my journey with track two, the sublime, angsty, and sax-y wonder that is “The Working Hour.” My reasons for breaking up with “Shout”? It’s a tale as old as time. I just played it too damn much before the album came out and got myself well and truly sick of it. Once SFTBC was released I was so googly-eyed ‘n’ eared over the rest of the album, I commenced with my lifelong ritual of skipping it, in order to ogle and drool over the hot new babes.

Sorry “Shout”, it’s not you, it’s me.

MATTHEW: Wow! We agree so often that it is refreshing when we don’t. So, you have been skipping on to “Working Hour” all these decades. Fair enough. That second track is far from being a let-down. As you say, it is a sax-y wonder, and a supreme one at that. Its sequencing after “Shout” is genius—a gorgeous, moody, meandering journey, six and half minutes just like “Shout” and deserving of every second of vinyl space—into the most poppy track on the album. That, of course, is “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” as catchy as “Shout” but more poptastic and less mesmerizing (both were US #1s, and “Everybody Wants” was by the 2020s Spotify’s most streamed ‘80s song by any artist). “Shout” is an anthem to accompany an uprising, a revolution, whereas “Everybody Wants” is something that Minions™ could sing. I don’t mean that as an insult, or as a way to damn it with faint praise! Its use at the end of Despicable Me 4 (an animated film you’d be forgiven for never seeing) was the best part of the movie, and a perfect reminder that this is a family-friendly singalong pop song that suits so many occasions. And it also serves as a poppy step away from the dark psychological ponderings that reach out from The Hurting to touch both “Shout” and the fourth and final track on this extraordinary Side A of SFTBC, “Mother’s Talk.”

This video has 41 million (freakin’)views.

HOPE: Lord, I miss short albums. Where it felt like every track seemed well and truly fussed over. Where it was hard for a song to make the final cut. Where the whole LP was the equivalent of a wedding day and all elements had to be freakin’ perfect because you know, this was it (so to speak). From the songs included, to the cover, to the sequence in which singles were released, everything had to be right.

Songs From the Big Chair is eight songs long. Eight. And every single one is a little work of art, a beautiful bride built to stand the test of time. Well, mostly. I mean the two-and-a-half minute “Broken” is mostly there to usher in and escort out a greater song, but it’s still a propulsive little thunderbolt in its own right.

I didn’t have Minions™ on my “Shout-outs within TFF essay” bingo card. And I’m never gonna see Despicable Me 4 but what you say is true! “Everybody Wants To Rule the World” is an anthem for all ages. The fact that it was partially inspired by the U.S.and Russia’s then ongoing battle for world supremacy otherwise known as The Cold War (1947-1991), doesn’t diminish the joyful positivity it exudes i.e. it’s transcended its initial inspiration and morphed into an all-celebratory party tune (or, as it was most recently employed in the film Marty Supreme, as a peculiarly life-affirming, baby-cradling anthem). While the chorus and intro get all the glory, the song’s most magical moments are, in order of magnificence, the sunshine-strewn, singalong guitar solo by TFF touring band man Neil Taylor, and that clever little vocal embellishment by Curt that follows in its immediate wake, where he sings “Saaay that you’ll nevernevernevernever need it”. 

The last track on Side A , “Mother’s Talk”, is the rockiest, balls-iest, Depeche-Mode-iest song TFF had produced up to that point in their career. It sounds like a couple of songs stitched together to make one big piledriver and for me, always brings to mind Art of Noise’s iconic 1984 earworm “Close (to the Edit)” when I hear it (Ed note: I just stopped writing to revisit that synthetic monster’s unforgettable video. It’s still brilliant).

MATTHEW: I like that—“Mother’s Talk” as one big piledriver of a song! One could say the same of all thrilling 23 minutes of Side A, the best vinyl side of the TFF catalogue, ending with the same rhythmic energy as it began, a 4-hit piledriver! (To be pedantic, 5 of the album’s 8 tracks were hit singles, 3 of them from Side A.) And the set-up is perfect for the opening song of Side B, the gorgeous “I Believe.” Thus far, the album is perfect. Does it continue that way? For me, close, but not quite…

HOPE: Oh, “I Believe” sounds so good after the clamor of “Mother’s Talk.” The song, as well as Roland’s lovely and sensitive wailing performance of it, were inspired by musician Robert Wyatt (who also received a little fanboy style dedication on SFTBC’s sleeve). That approbation led me to the record store where I bought my first Robert Wyatt album. The verdict? Let’s just say I wasn’t sonically mature enough to appreciate Wyatt’s keening vocal style and meandering tunes at the time. 

MATTHEW: Totally agree on Wyatt. I too was led to him by TFF (and others I liked, such as Elvis Costello), but it would be many years before I was mature enough to appreciate him. However, I could appreciate “I Believe”—both the album original and the live version released as a single. I also loved “Head Over Heels,” the high point of Side B, don’t you think?

I wanted to be with you alone, and talk about the weather…

HOPE: Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes. Sigh. “Head Over Heels” is the greatest TFF song ever. Unrequited love, familial disappointment and one lustrous U-turn of a hook. A video that takes place in a library, the architectural equivalent of a secret crush. All of it and everything. It is one of the top five greatest songs of the ‘80s. Right, Matthew, right?!

Lastly, I just want to offer a reverential bow to the hypnotic, ambient beauty “Listen”, one of five co-writes on the album with key TFF keys man Ian Stanley, just for being so dreamy. But I digress. “Head Over Heels” is the best TFF song, yes?

MATTHEW: Yes and no! “Head Over Heels” is way up there as one of the best TFF songs and 80s pop songs. So I won’t go quite as far as you, Hope, but it certainly holds its own against the massive hits of Side A, an exemplar of how brilliantly TFF can mix lyrical heartache and melodic hook. And I think the short “Broken” works really well as the bridge into “Head Over Heels.” And the reprise of “Broken” is great too, until … the faux live ending. Why is the song ending live? It makes no sense, undermining this side of the album’s intimate atmosphere—which “Listen” must then have to work hard to regain. For me, “Listen” should have been a B-side. It is overly long (filling a third of Side B), an anticlimactic closer, lacking the impact to successfully bring us back to where “Head Over Heels” had taken us. Yes, “Listen” is dreamy (and I’m a fan of TFF B-sides and instrumentals), but for me that pointless and confounding applause at the end of the “Broken” reprise is where this powerful piledriver of a pop album flies (or floats?!) off the tracks.

HOPE: I’m okay with that faux live bit and how it fades into “Listen”! To me it’s just a fun little flourish, like that screaming fan bit on The Beatles Sgt. Pepper album between the title track and “With a Little Help From My Friends”. Songs From the Big Chair ends like a film, a big boom followed by calm meditation aka “Listen”, where you contemplate what happened and readjust to the real world.

MATTHEW: Yes, I see your point, and I’m aware that my annoyance over the “Broken” live ending is odd (as odd, no doubt, as my irritation over similar issues on later TFF albums). And my disappointment over “Listen” is likewise irrational—considering how much I generally like moody and experimental tracks by pop artists. Is it that the album is so perfect up to that point, that I hold it to absurd standards? Is it that “Listen” is one of eight tracks yet comprises ⅙ of the whole album? Or will I wake up one morning, put on SFTBC, and realize that “Listen” eases us out of the album in just the right way? Maybe! But meanwhile, buckle up for my opinion on the difficult sequel to SFTBC

Rating: HOPE: 9/10. MATTHEW: 9/10.

The Seeds Of Love (1989)

UK: 1. US: 8.

HOPE: “Man, I never slept so hard, I never dreamt so well”. God, I love The Seeds of Love. I believe it to be TFF’s artistic pinnacle. It’s their most lyrically and sonically dense album but it’s also their most poetic and playful. And while it mostly speaks of passionate emotions stirred up by humanity as a whole as opposed to another person, it is still a ridiculously romantic record.

On Seeds, political hypocrisy, inter-band hatred, and the impending apocalypse are bumps in the road of some epic love affair with the world itself. Sure, the overall instrumentation and arrangements are bloated as fuck but they never mask the gorgeous overall melodicism. And yes, it’s kind of angry in parts. But it hasn’t given up. It desperately wants things to get better. When I listen to Seeds, I hear hope (just to clarify, I don’t mean nerd-ass me, I mean the actual feeling known as hope).

MATTHEW: Haha. When I listen to Seeds I think of you, Hope, because I know how much you love the album. And I want to love it as much as you do, but . . . back in 1989, I felt conflicted—and I still do. I was blown away by “Sowing the Seeds of Love” when it came out in the summer of ‘89, a month before the album. We TFF fans had endured what was in those days a troubling and agonizingly long wait (4 and ½ years between Songs and Seeds), but the lead single seemed to make it all worthwhile. The combination of catchy pop hooks and intricate production, somehow both simple and complex all at the same time, remains stunning—the pinnacle of TFF creativity, probably (for me, at least) their single best song. The long multipart bridge is alone a thing of glory. Hope, in the past you’ve asked of albums by other bands if a record was their Pet Sounds? Well, “Sowing the Seeds” struck me as TFF’s “Good Vibrations.” (Not an original observation, I am aware.) Both are whole-albums-in-one-song, promising to presage a dazzling set of similar creations. Of course, that did not happen with the Beach Boys. But did TFF fulfill that promise? I’m glad it did for you. For me, not quite.

HOPE: Been waiting for this. A band we both love that hits each of us in a (mostly) completely different way. It’s so hard to align classic, critically acclaimed pop songs and albums from the ‘60s and ‘70s with those of the ‘80s, a decade that has never been taken seriously in such matters. Which is why I love your connecting “Good Vibrations” to “Seeds”. That fascinated me, it made sense! Of course, I know people who would completely recoil at that idea (I can feel them bristling right now). And of course, for me, the indulgent, the passionate Seeds of Love full-length LP more than met expectations.

It’s impossible to talk about Seeds without acknowledging the “P” word: Yes nerds, I’m talking about “Prog (rock).” Seeds can occasionally seem and sound kinda Proggy. There is a faint scent of early ’70s Yes and Genesis emanating from its pores…meaning the average run-time for a song on the album is six (staggering) minutes…meaning it is home to a few hefty instrumental passages…meaning it isn’t remotely sexy. And like any Prog album worth its salt, in order to really experience it properly, the album requires that you listen to it in sequence. Or at least Side Two does, aka tracks 5 through 8. Shed your cool-guy/gal cynicism at the door! Pull on your (imaginary) Sgt.Pepper jacket! Grab your (also imaginary) sword! Drop the needle (yeah, I just did that) and close your eyes!…which brings us to Side One…

MATTHEW: You won’t find much argument from me on Side One. For me, four of the eight tracks on Seeds are incredible, indispensable TFF creations, and three of them are on Side One. In addition to the sort-of-title track, the opening and closing tracks to the side (“Woman in Chains” and “Advice For The Young At Heart”) are not only stunning and beautiful, they represent forward leaps in terms of content and style. Curt recently commented on how production on The Hurting was “pretty tiny,” with Songs showing “a leap in production values that continued with The Seeds of Love.” But what really stands out on Side One is not only the further complexity of the production but the increasing sophistication of lyrical theme and song construction.TFF are seldom associated with the rather cringey sub-genre term “sophisti-pop,” but isn’t this sophisti-pop at its best?

HOPE: “Sophisti-pop” has always sounded like an insult to me, implying as it does that something is both excessively slick and smarty-pants. In the context of a review, I always took it to mean “well-dressed but ball-less” (if you will). Roxy Music’s beauteous Avalon album or Spandau Ballet’s True are prime ‘80s examples…but damn, that term “sophisti-pop” feels covertly dismissive to my cynical ears.

Fast forward: Here’s Roland and Oleta doing “Woman In Chains” live in 1995. An extra bow of reverence to Oleta’s vocal here because, good lord.

HOPE: Oh, Side One of Seeds! It is immaculate! Starting the album with “Woman In Chains”, an extraordinary power ballad about ingrained misogyny that features a non-bloke TFF outsider on co-lead vocals with Roland—the then unknown American soul singer Oleta Adams—was a bold move. It was a mission statement as well. For all its prog-iness, Seeds is brimming with the essence of something that is never associated with Prog or TFF prior to this album: women. The album is positively brimming with estrogen. Five of the album’s eight songs were co-written by singer-pianist Nicky Holland. The wondrous aforementioned Oleta appears on four tracks total and plays a gigantic vocal part on two of ‘em. Seeds is fueled by Girl Power. 

Also, I have to shout(!) out one of TFF’s underappreciated and most magical powers, aka Roland’s gorgeously soulful whine of a voice. Seeds is home to the most insane vocal runs, dramatic swoops and craziest falsettos he’s ever done (to this day). The vocal interplay between he and Oleta on the beautifully bitter big boy ballad, “Badman’s Song” still blows me away, oh man.Their voices are so in sync that half the time it’s impossible to tell where he ends and she begins. For years I confused who was singing which verse in certain songs, so similar in timbre were the two (true). 

“Sowing the Seeds of Love” is The Beatles’s timeless pop chant “I Am the Walrus” with a sunshiney chorus in place of the original’s gloomy, eerie drone. It’s also the most uplifting, imaginary anti-Margaret Thatcher-marching parade song ever. “Advice For The Young At Heart” is by far the sweetest, most shimmery song on the whole album and the most prototypically Tears for Fears-ish soundwise (kinda like “Everybody Wants to Rule the World’s” mature older sibling). It’s also the only song on the album to feature a Curt Smith lead vocal…in fact, he feels like something of a peripheral presence on Seeds, with only a single songwriting credit and one solitary lead vocal to his name. Turned out trouble was brewing, but as I was so excessively besotted with the album upon release, I missed this concerning little nugget completely, I never thought “where the hell is Curt?” Did you Matthew?

MATTHEW: I absolutely did back then and I still do. Curt has one co-writing credit (“Sowing”) and one vocal (as you say, “Advice”). I never had a problem with the roles played by Oleta Adams or Nicky Holland on the album, and I appreciate them even more now. You are right about the marriage of Oleta’s and Roland’s voices (stunningly smooth) and Holland was clearly crucial to the album being finished—and being the evolutionary step forward that it is. And yet I miss Curt. I miss him on the next two albums too, and I came to think of Seeds of Love as the first of a trio of Roland solo albums under the TFF name. Is that unfair?

Probably. But there’s more that is probably unfair (and won’t be popular with readers who agree with you, Hope). I mentioned above that for me half the album is superb—the sublime trio of “Chains,” “Seeds,” and “Advice,” from Side One, and the gorgeous “Famous Last Words,” which just edges out “Goodnight Song” as the best TFF album closer ever. So, what about the other four songs? None are filler, none are songs I skip. But from the very start, I missed Curt, I missed the privileging of melody over jazzy jamming, and I missed the pop punch that I had come to expect of TFF. I’m no longer annoyed by what I once perceived as the self-indulgence of “Badman.” And I am no longer mystified by the two “Knife” songs, whose pop (and even hit) potential seemed tantalizingly close yet unrealized. I now value them for what they are—steps deliberately far away from Big Chair and towards the next two Orzabal-as-TFF albums. But I cannot ever get over the many years of disappointment. Well, maybe I will eventually!

HOPE: Maybe I’ll help you get there. Because Side Two of Seeds is my official favorite side in the whole TFF discography world. Which is, admittedly, kinda weird. None of its four occupants were hits.Their lyrics are ridiculously overwrought. All the tracks are stuffed to the gills with stuff (sax, singers, soul). Yet, I’ve got nothing but love for these bloated pop beauties. From “Standing on the Corner of the Third World” (Quiet/Loud) to “Swords and Knives” (Plush and windy, birth and death) to “Year of the Knife” (Gigantic heartbreak locomotive w/a fabulously screeching vocal by Roland) to perfectly dreamy bluster-bomb “Famous Last Words” (Apocalyptic love theme), decades have passed but my love for Side Two has never subsided. I don’t even consider these tracks to be four separate entities. No, when I listen to ‘em, they just sound like one big crazy-ass song.

MATTHEW: And those should be our final words on Seeds of Love!

Rating: HOPE: 10/10. MATTHEW: 8/10

Uh oh.

Start of the Breakdown: Seeds of Love took roughly three years and cost millions of pounds to record. All the initial album recordings that had been done by the legendary UK production team of Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley were scrapped and redone. During that time, key Tears stalwarts Ian Stanley (keyboardist & co-writer) and Chris Hughes (producer & co-writer) left the (band) fold. It was a bumpy road that got a helluva lot bumpier once the tour in support of the album concluded. 

That’s when Curt Smith decided to quit Tears for Fears. 

And Roland decided to keep it going without him.

Elemental (1993)

UK: 5. US: 45.

MATTHEW: Wow, this album begins well! The opening trio of songs are so good. Orzabal power pop at its best. I’ve always loved these 15 minutes that comprise “Elemental,” “Cold,” and “Break it Down Again” as a sequel of sorts to the hits of the previous albums, a reassurance that Roland could still write slamming pop songs. That anthemic “stone cold!” outro to “Cold” is the kind of bonus hook that I cherished on the first two albums—and on the best parts of Seeds. But … I still missed Curt. And perhaps Adams and Holland too. Because Elemental drops off after that, as it slips into sounding less Orzabal-as-TFF and more just solo-Orzabal. 

HOPE: The first half of the ‘90s were a particularly bad time for the ‘80s. After a decade of synthesizer domination, guitar-led sounds made a comeback (hello Grunge and Britpop). Apparently, synthpop had been an embarrassing phase and now it was back to business. With a few possible exceptions (Cure, Smiths, R.E.M., perhaps Depeche) ‘80s pop could only be mentioned in hushed tones. As I was working in an HMV megastore at the time, I speak from painful, personal experience. To admit you still spent time listening to Culture Club or The Thompson Twins in the ‘90s was to expose yourself as being resolutely uncool and stuck in the past. All of which is to say, in 1993 the prospect of a new Tears for Fears album, a Curt-free one no less, wasn’t a highly anticipated event. 

To make matters worse, Roland was now openly dismissive of Curt’s contribution to TFF, and implied that he’d thought of him more as a hired hand than an equal partner. In an interview with Entertainment Weekly upon the album’s release, Roland said “The relationship I had with Curt was like that of a producer to an artist…I’d help him get his vocals right and even write his songs for him. It wasn’t really a shared thing.” Oof. Welcome to the official rough patch of TFF (it reminds me a lot of Daryl Hall’s similarly brutal description of John Oates’s contribution to Hall & Oates in his 2007 interview with Pitchfork. In that conversation, he stated that he and John were “not an equal duo and never had been. I’m 90% and he’s 10% and that’s the way it is”. Double oof).

Nine of Elemental’s ten tracks were written with old friend Alan Griffiths who had been with the band The Escape with Seeds of Love collaborator Nicky Holland back in the ‘80s. The album is okay…ish. There is significantly more filler than had ever appeared on a TFF LP before (literally half the songs). Oh, there are some patches of sunlight, like booming, declarative fun boy “Break it Down Again” (“Here we go!”) and shimmery closer “Goodnight Song” which sounds like an actual, vintage TFF song. And “Cold” has a fabulous little hook stuffed inside its chilly bones. But there isn’t much to embrace after that.

MATTHEW: Right. And the moments of anti-Curt spite, combined with the album’s weaker middle, didn’t help TFF’s reputation, especially in the US (where it would be another three decades before a TFF album broke the Top 40, while “Break it Down Again” would prove to be their last US single to even break the Top 100). I don’t think any of the middle five songs of Elemental are bad, and I like the closing pair of “Brian Wilson Said” and “Goodnight Song” (which is lovely and, as you say, sounds very TFF!). But some of those middle five come close to B-side territory (I’m looking at you, “Gas Giants”) and are weaker, for example, than “Laid So Low” (a UK Top 20 hit single a year before this album, recorded for TFF’s first hits compilation). For me, Elemental is, like Seeds, half great and half good but slightly disappointing. Ok, far more disappointing for me than Seeds, and for you they are obviously at opposite ends of the TFF catalog spectrum of quality. So, do we agree that, in the end, this is the least successful of the seven studio albums?

HOPE: Oh yes, I agree with every word of that! That “middle five,” as you dubbed them, are unmemorable apart from Roland’s mean I-hate-Curt-themed “Fish Out of Water” which is memorable for reasons that have zero to do with song quality. It’s all strictly B-Side stuff. And yes, “Laid So Low”, which we’ll get to in detail shortly, dwarfs every one of those middling tracks and maybe everything else apart from “Break It Down Again.”

Rating: HOPE: 5/10. MATTHEW: 6/10

Raoul And The Kings Of Spain (1995)

UK: 41. US: 79.

HOPE: Roland’s second collaborative effort with Alan Griffiths, Raoul and the Kings of Spain is a far better record than its predecessor. While there are a handful of rockier tracks present, including the booming title track that opens the album, the loud boys are not the songs that shine brightest on Raoul. No, it’s the sensitive souls. “Secrets”, with its colossal chorus and the heartbreaking “Me and My Big Ideas” (the latter a duet with the still brilliant Oleta Adams) are two greatest ballads in the history of TFF. Have I ever daydreamed about Celine Dion or Whitney Houston covering these tracks in the pop fantasyland that exists inside my head, complete with dramatic key changes in the final verse of each song? Oh hell yes I have. One tiny step below “Secrets” and “Me and My…” are “Sketches of Pain” and the noble “I Choose You”. Both are beauties.

MATTHEW: On those two ballads (“Secrets” and “Me and My…”) we agree, and for me too “Sketches of Pain” and “I Choose You” are enduring beauties. So do we agree on the whole album? Maybe? For me, that handful of amazing songs, too often overlooked, are gems nestled into a brilliant, lamentably-forgotten album.

Does every band have a “most underrated” album? It’s a fun category, so let’s say yes—and might this be that album in the TFF catalog? It not only has a series of fantastic Roland compositions that could’ve been huge singles, but it is strong from start to finish. From the opening guitar riff, this album rocks. It is packed with signature TFF elements— Roland’s powerful vocals, his irresistible melodies, and his angst-tinged lyrics (this may be his most personal record). And this is very much a ‘90s album, despite TFF’s ‘80s association, fueled not by synths but by propulsive drumming and guitar work. Even the superbly soaring “Secrets” (oh yes, one of the great TFF hits that never was) is a rock-pop power ballad. And that Roland/Oleta ballad (I’m back to “Me and My…”) surely stands as tall as their Seeds of Love collaborations (another hit single in a parallel universe)!

So why did the album flop (no hits, lowest charting, second poorest selling, doing well only in continental Europe)? It was partly that 1995 was a low-point for artists labeled as “80s.” Even lower than 1993, when Elemental came out, as you noted earlier, Hope. Being neither Britpop nor grunge, TFF were so yesterday. Hardcore fans knew better, of course. But not enough people heard the album or its singles to get that this wasn’t a re-tread by has-beens but top-notch pop-rock, new and compelling. The title track squeaked into the #31 slot in the UK for a week; in the US, the only single to chart at all was “God’s Mistake,” and it stalled at #102. Part of the problem was the last-minute label shift from Mercury (the label for first four albums) to Epic—who failed to promote the album and its singles and then promptly dropped the band. That dumbassery left this gem out in the cold. It has never been released on vinyl, and its tracks are excluded from all TFF compilations. Grrrr!

HOPE: In regards to the more rocking tunes present on Raoul, the title track, and “Sorry” are the champs, the most compelling and memorable of the harder stuff. But they are nowhere near as brilliant as the ballads. And those ballads are the main reason why this LP should get more love and attention than it’s been afforded. So I’m with you. Raoul is the most underrated album in the discography.

MATTHEW: There have been times over the years when I’ve thought this was the best TFF album of them all. The album is so good that, for me, there’s no filler at all. If I had to pick a least favorite track, I’d pick “Don’t Drink the Water.” Remove that and you have a blissful ballad pairing of “I Choose You” with “Big Ideas.” But the B-sides are so strong that there is no shortage of substitutes for “Water”; in fact, “Until I Drown” totally deserves to be upgraded. And “Queen of Compromise” was justifiably on the original unreleased Mercury version of the album.

Do I still miss Curt? Absolutely (as I did on Elemental, and even on Seeds of Love, on which he is too often absent). “He just does something to a song,” as Roland recently said of Curt (admitting that “the two biggest songs in our catalogue, and the biggest earners for me, are ‘Mad World’ and ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World,’ and that’s Curt singing them”). I wish they’d remix and reissue the Raoul album with Curt’s vocals added. And make it a double vinyl album with the B-sides as bonus tracks on Side 4.

HOPE: I suck, which is to say, I don’t think about Curt’s absence when I listen to this album. But I love your fantastical proposal. For me, Raoul sits just outside the top three TFF LPs ever (aka Hurting, Chair and Seeds). Also, you just triggered that “what if” reflex: If “Water” and “Humdrum and Humble” had been left off and replaced with handsome B-side’s “Until I Drown”, “Queen of Compromise” and the extremely Tears for Fearsy “All of the Angels” on the official 1995 version of the album, Raoul would be at least tied for third on my list.

Rating: HOPE: 7/10. MATTHEW: 9/10

Everybody Loves A Happy Ending (US 2004 / UK 2005)

UK: 45. US: 46.

HOPE: Roland and Curt reunite! Tears for Fears are two again! But is this album better than either of the two Roland-only excursions that preceded it? Hmmm…

MATTHEW: I have a feeling we are going to disagree on this one, Hope. Because I absolutely love this album! “Make love your destination,” indeed. Finally, a Roland-and-Curt sequel to Seeds. Or is it more like a sequel to the Roland-only Elemental and Raoul, but Curt-enhanced? If you, dear reader, think that my adoration for Raoul and Everybody Loves a Happy Ending (ELAHE?) is a bit odd, you’re not alone. Neither were hits. They are the bottom of the TFF sales barrel. Both received mixed reviews. Hope will, I suspect, understand where you are coming from. But if, like me, you think they are hugely underrated and unfairly ignored works of pop genius, you’re not alone either. What the hell, I might as well own it: this is my favorite TFF album! Yes, I said it.

Ok, I’m being hyperbolic and provocative. I’m not claiming that ELAHE is the best TFF album? It isn’t the enduring pop masterpiece that is Big Chair. It isn’t the creative reach-for-the-stars that is Seeds. It lacks the thematic coherence of Raoul. And, to be less giddy about it, I’ve ranked it below Big Chair, sharing the second-favorite spot with Raoul. But I do maintain that ELAHE is an artful and compelling collection of a dozen catchy and expertly assembled pop songs. With all its lyrical and musical references to their influences (especially The Beatles, for which critics gave the duo flack), and to their own past albums, this is in a way the ultimate TFF album.

HOPE: While I think you are crazy, and I mean that with love Matthew, I also appreciate and lovingly respect your passionate declaration! Who among us nerds (you reading this, us here) hasn’t experienced irrational, inexplicable love for the “wrong” album? The one that wasn’t successful or showered with acclaim? The one nobody talks about? Sometimes the rules just don’t apply. Sometimes, something just freakin’ hits. You fall in love with a discographic dark horse (so to speak) and you want to tell the world!

So here’s the deal, there are parts of ELAHE that I completely adore. 

The bright-as-the-blazing-sun anthem “Secret World” is one of my favorite TFF songs of all-time (it is fucking fabulous). The album’s first single, “Closest Thing to Heaven” is a mammoth pop monster, with a giant claw of a hook (also fabulous). There are moments of genuine melodic wonder sprinkled along the way, like the simultaneously slick-yet-grungy “Killing With Kindness”, which sounds like some weird TFF approximation of a Smashing Pumpkins song, and the wonderfully messy Beatle-pastiche/sonic son of “Sowing the Seeds of Love”, “Who Killed Tangerine”. Coincidentally (?) those four songs are the loudest, most bombastic tracks on the album. They are also the best, most memorable ones. And their beautiful bigness makes the rest of the tracks sound very small indeed.

“Call Me Mellow”, “Size of Sorrow”,”Quiet Ones” and ”Who You Are” are like a singular fluffy cloud. They are pleasant, not powerful. They waft as one, nothing stands out. The rest of the album’s residents—“The Devil”, “Ladybird”,”Last Days on Earth” and the title track—don’t even hold up to the songs comprising the aforementioned fluffy cloud. It’s not that they are bad, they just don’t stick or stand out.

Now comes the math. While ELAHE is better than Elemental as a complete listening experience, only four of its 12 songs truly deliver the goods. Using that metric (translation: four great songs vs. eight okay ones), ELAHE doesn’t qualify as a great album. Okay Matthew, let me have it!

MATTHEW: That’s very restrained and fair, Hope. Especially compared to some of the mixed reviews the album received upon release. But while I understand why those critics found the intricate and layered production to be a mess, I only hear fascinating connections and delightful details. Likewise, I understand your 4-great-vs-8-ok verdict, and it makes sense to me, but I still hear 11 great or really good songs vs only one that is just ok. Only one? Well, honestly (and happily) yes! That’s “The Devil,” which I’d drop if I was in some parallel fantasy universe in charge of prepping the TFF catalogue for re-release—or, in the case of ELAHE, original release—on vinyl. At over 54” it is too long for vinyl anyway, so removing that track puts the album just under 51” and thus in vinyl range. Still, I hear the audiophiles saying I’d need to cut one more track. And you’ve given us seven options, Hope. But here’s my point: I enjoy the album so much, and I hear it so consistently packed with irresistible hooks and melodies, that I couldn’t decide. The first five tracks are too good to mess with. For example, check out what happens 2’18” into “Who Killed Tangerine”: a superb, anthemic bridge that returns for the last two minutes of the song, just begging to be heard live with thousands of fans chanting “It’s not over!” And a vinyl Side Two might begin with the indispensable “Quiet Ones,” although “Secret World” is so damn good it should probably kick off Side Two. But then it probably should have been a Top Ten smash everywhere —because, as you say Hope, it is fucking fabulous! TFF pop at its best. Hell, pop music at its best. And the album doesn’t even drop off after that: “Killing with Kindness” is epic, indeed, another anthem awaiting a stadium-full of fans. “Ladybird” is as singalong-good as the album’s two singles, and “Last Days on Earth” might be up there with the best TFF album closers.

HOPE: ELAHE will always be a cherry-picking affair for me. I am wholeheartedly in alignment with you on one thing though: It would be wickedly cool to hear a whole arena of TFF nerds scream-singing along to “Who Killed Tangerine”.  

Rating: HOPE: 6/10. MATTHEW: 9/10

The Tipping Point (2022)

UK: 2. US: 8.

HOPE: The Tipping Point is a total bottom-loader. Tracks one to five are, you know, okay. Tracks six to ten though? Let me put it this way: if Tipping Point were an EP featuring just those five songs, I’d rate it eight out of ten at least. None of the first five tracks move me. The latter five tracks on the other hand, well, they’ve got something going on girl.

MATTHEW: You know how you never forget the first time you hear certain songs? Usually it happens when you are doing something mundane, like driving to work or making dinner. I was doing yardwork when I first heard “No Small Thing,” the opening track of The Tipping Point.  I was stunned. I just sat on the front step playing it over and over. It seemed to draw upon all the previous albums, lyrically and musically, to create something so viscerally compelling. That ending!  Such a fantastic example of TFF’s particular blend of pop and rock.  So your reaction, Hope, so different to mine, is a fascinating case of how two people who so often are on the same musical wavelength sometimes hear very differently.  And your reaction also prompts this question: do I find the whole album as good as its first song?

Well, I absolutely agree that the second half of the album has something going on. It is held together by very good to great songs, built around the middle track, Orzabal’s “Master Plan,” which is to my ears a TFF classic, worthy of a spot on any Essentials list. But my reservations about the first half don’t extend to all five tracks, just the fourth (“Break the Man”) and fifth (“My Demons”). They’re not terrible, but they don’t grab me the way so many TFF songs do. Do you agree, Hope? Perhaps many fans wouldn’t agree, and Curt and Roland surely wouldn’t — as both were singles and included in the setlist for the album’s tour.

HOPE: Totally agree on both “Break the Man” and the sub-Depeche Mode “My Demons”! They sound formulaic. But then, so does the title track…and while I appreciate the sweaty, robustness of “No Small Thing”, the melody on that one doesn’t quite hit. But once track six arrives, the Peter Gabriel meets “Woman In Chains” epic “Rivers of Mercy”, a door opens (Fun Fact: It’s Roland’s fave tune on the album). What comes after that is kinda beautiful.

MATTHEW: Yes, “Rivers of Mercy” is gorgeous. And there’s lots of “kinda beautiful” moments in this second side/half of the album. I confess that after Songs for a Nervous Planet came out in 2024 (we get to that album below), I made my own version of Tipping Point: I replaced “Break the Man” and “Demons” with the far superior “Astronaut” and “The Girl I Call Home,” which sit so well with the second five Tipping songs. And sometimes I play with resequencing: “Please Be Happy” rolls exquisitely into “Stay,” for example.

HOPE: I concur on that last thought! “Please Be Happy”, with its heartwrenchingly personal lyrics (relating to Roland’s late wife Caroline) and exceptionally lovely Curt vocal is maybe the most Beatle-ish ballad in the whole discography. It’s mournful but there is brightness in its arrangement (Oh the strings, the strings). It definitely brings to mind  “The Long and Winding Road” for me. The love notes to the Fab Four don’t stop there. Hands aloft, stadium anthem ”Master Plan” —“a dig” at TFF’s former manager— is also stuffed to the gills with winks and nods toward the lads. It even includes an actual namecheck, for God’s sake

The album winds down with MGMT meets Goldfrapp meets Motown, “End of Night” (forgive me for that description but I swear that’s what it sounds like) and mellow, vintage-Tears-for-Fearsy closer “Stay”. 

That is just one rock solid block of songs. 

Okay, I need to do “A Matthew” right now! You know what would have made this album great? If two of the three of the bonus tracks that were made available only on deluxe edition/exclusive versions of the album (Hello Target shoppers!) appeared on the initial, available-everywhere release of the album. Both “Shame (Cry Heaven)” and “Secret Location” are exquisite modern day TFF songs. Evict any of the aforementioned Side A tracks, pop these two in, and Tipping becomes a great TFF album as opposed to a good one.

MATTHEW: Absolutely. There are three such bonus tracks, all worth having but not on most (or any?) streaming services (although I have all three on a CD version of Tipping Point that was neither hard to find nor costly). And I agree that “Secret Location” and “Shame” are without any doubt worthy of being full album tracks. With TFF, even the bonus tracks are good! The fact is, there is no bad TFF album, no slow decline from a never-equaled debut, no bell curve of quality, no sequence of late-in-life records whose occasional great moments merely remind us of how very good the band once was (yeah, I’m looking at you New Order, Depeche Mode, Duran Duran, etc.). Tipping Point isn’t their best, but it’s a great album. Not a great album for a band that started four decades earlier. A great album full stop (period).

HOPE: I appreciate your brutal yet honest observation regarding the other icons you list. Because I can’t help myself, I’ll just add to the pile by saying not one of them has made a song in the 21st century that is worthy of appearing in a Top Twenty list of their greatest creations (Dear Depeche Mode’s “Freelove”, while I do adore you, you handsome little demon, you will never match the greatness of your older siblings). That’s what sets TFF apart from their ‘80s peers. They have

Rating: HOPE: 7/10. MATTHEW: 8/10

Compilations

Tears Roll Down (Greatest Hits 82-92) (1992) (UK 2, US 53)

Saturnine Martial & Lunatic (1996) (Did Not Chart)

Gold (2006) (Did Not Chart)

Rule the World: The Greatest Hits (2017) (UK 13, US Did Not Chart)

HOPE: Our ability to make playlists has not rendered that old stocking stuffer/lazy listeners delight/completist pocket picker, better known as ‘The Greatest Hits’ album, obsolete. They are still pretty popular with the general public, and for a legacy artist, they often rank as their most popular albums on the streaming services…which I find disappointing (Sad Nerd). Especially in the case of TFF as there are countless deep cuts worth hearing. Sorry, had to get that out of my system.

The only thing that mattered to me about Tears Roll Down (Greatest Hits 82-92), the first ever TFF compilation, was the song the LP was named after, and its only new track, “Laid So Low (Tears Roll Down).” Home to lines like “I was humble for you” and “I wish you were my enemy”, it is beautifully bitter and hard not to hear as a goodbye letter from Roland to Curt. As for the comp itself, it’s pretty redundant at this point right?

MATTHEW: Yup. The two official “best of” options are, unfortunately, outdated and flawed. The mixes on streaming platforms are better, but they are indeed no substitute for well-curated “hits” CDs and records. The out-of-print Tears Roll Down runs through the singles from the first three albums, plus “Laid So Low”—which was, as you say, the excellent new single released in 1992 to boost this compilation (it reached #17 in Britain, the album #2). All great songs but an obsolete collection. So what about the 2017 “update,” Rule the World: the Greatest Hits? Well, it repeats 11 singles from Tears Roll Down but tragically omits that one single not on a regular album (“Laid So Low”). And both compilations omit 1983’s “The Way You Are.” Sigh! Rule the World is longer than Tears Roll Down (74” vs 59”), adding one song from each of the later three albums, plus two new songs: “I Love You But I’m Lost” (a single that failed to chart anywhere in the world, despite being the first TFF single in twelve years), and an earlier (slightly inferior) version of Tipping Point track “Stay.” So, a satisfying update? For me, not at all! What do you think?

HOPE: I’m with you. Rule the World: the Greatest Hits should have been the official gathering place for all the singles. It should be noted that there have been a bunch of other TFF compilations released apart from the two official band-approved releases we’ve been talking about. Most of them are record company concoctions with no participation from TFF themselves in terms of actual song choices. Some are exclusive to Germany, Japan, Brazil and Europe. Honestly, there are too damn many.

So after all this, which is the ideal starter kit? Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, it’s one of the freakin’ aforementioned label-sanctioned releases. Gold, is a 2-CD set that was first released in 2006. It has 24 songs, including “The Way You Are”  and “Laid So Low” plus all the obvious stuff. If you are craving a comp on CD, this is the one to track down, as it is the most comprehensive.

MATTHEW: Yes, Gold comes closest to being the ideal starter kit, as you put it, out of the twenty-two (!) additional compilations listed on Wikipedia. Most were released only in one or a few foreign markets, as you say, so Gold has the virtue of being easily found in the US and UK. But it is still a lost opportunity. It lacks three singles that are on Shout (a 2001 US-only compilation; a near-identical edition was released in Germany): “Suffer the Children,” “I Believe (A Soulful Re-Recording),” and “Goodnight Song.” And while I like that Gold includes two Raoul and four ELAHE singles, why end with so-so B-side-wanna-be “Floating Down the River,” and a random live version of “Mad World”? Grump, grump. Oh dear, Hope, are we turning into those fans that love a band’s music but complain incessantly online over what tracks are on what releases (Hope says YES)? And we are far from done yet! At least we aren’t moaning about formats! Well, for now, let’s leave it at this: We agree that the hits comps are most unsatisfactory, and that a complete double-disc collection of all the singles is long overdue. So, what about B-sides and live cuts?

Let’s take a “Laid So Low (Tears Roll Down)” break. Chew that bone baby.

HOPE: And now, the weird kid. 1996’s Saturnine Martial and Lunatic is a collection of B-Sides and rarities. Its closing track is TFF’s most peculiar and charmingly inaccessible single, “The Way You Are”, which had only been released as a freestanding entity and had never appeared on an album before this (The aforementioned Gold comp it appeared on was released a decade after Saturnine, in 2006) . I rarely listen to this exceedingly odd oddball of a song, but remain fascinated that something with such a slippery chorus and abstract arrangement was released as a freakin’ single ( FYI: Roland and Curt hate this one). But seriously, this collection requires a patience only hardcore fans are likely to muster. In keeping with the B-Side culture of the time (of the ‘80s primarily) the songs are a bit more off-the-wall and experimental than the stuff that appeared on the actual studio albums. So it ain’t for everyone. That said, there are a few straightforward, let’s call them “huggable” tunes among its 18(!) tracks. The wickedly cool, saxophone-fueled freight train, should’ve-been-a-studio-album-track “Always in the Past” and the emotive cover of Robert Wyatt’s bizarro gorgeo-sity “Sea Song” make Saturnine worth having (Ridiculous Sidebar: I love Roland’s pronunciation of “porpoise” as “por-poys” on the latter. Say it with me, “por-poys”.) And gotta give an honorable mention to “New Star” which not only sounds a hell of a lot like a latter day Simple Minds song, but curiously predicts the future sound of Oasis.

MATTHEW: Yes, Saturnine Martial and Lunatic is a 78-minute slog of an album, not for the faint-hearted, a very mixed bag, and for fans only. But of course it was not intended to be an album, but rather a convenient storage device for various B-sides and extras, and as such it is indispensable for even casual fans—worth it for a handful of gems like “Sea Song” (as you note), the paint-by-numbers copy of Bowie’s “Ashes to Ashes,” and the movie soundtrack single “New Star” (the movie being 1994’s dreadful Threesome). Although it makes me pine for that long overdue CD and vinyl release of all singles on two discs, with all the non-single extras on another disc. Come on, boys!

Live Albums

Secret World: Live in Paris (2006) (Did Not Chart)

Songs for a Nervous Planet (2024) (UK 6, US 104)

MATTHEW: Now for the live albums, of which we are only going to cover two official releases (not the bootleg or obscure ones). And in fact, the first of these is pretty obscure too.  Secret World (2006) did not chart anywhere save France—where, despite it being recorded live in Paris the previous year, it only reached #106. That’s not surprising, in that it came on the heels of the band’s lowest-charting-in-the-UK album (Happy Ending or ELAHE). And it was released on a French label, as a CD+DVD only, packaged not in a jewel box but in the flimsy plastic “slim case” of the DVD era. As a fan of ELAHE, I like that a third of the nine live tracks on here are from that album. It is also fun to hear Roland speaking (quite good!) French. And the final three tracks are hits from Big Chair, with an interesting live rendition of “Shout” as the closer. The vocals on all nine live tracks are fine, but a tad shaky (in contrast to Songs for a Nervous Planet, where they seem to have been polished in production—some fans will prefer the polish, some the keeping-it-real live feel). The “Radio Edit” studio version of “Secret World” then follows on the CD, which sort of makes sense as the CD and DVD begin with the live version, and that is the name of this album. But what makes no sense at all is what follows: the above-mentioned “Floating Down the River,” and “What Are We Fighting For” (question mark missing), taken from the 1998 solo Curt Smith album Mayfield (to which we briefly return below). It is also fine, nothing more than that. But what really annoys me is the mixing of live and studio bonus tracks, which feels random and unthinking—weder Fisch noch Fleisch, a great German expression, literally “neither fish nor flesh,” that describes unsatisfactory compromises. Give us a full-length live album or give us an updated full-length compilation of B-sides and extras, but don’t tantalize us with a half-arsed hybrid of both!

From Songs for a Nervous Planet, here’s the live version of “Secret World” featuring a hat tip to Paul McCartney and Wings’ “Let ‘Em In”. It is a real chocolate-covered cherry, which is to say, it’s good.

MATTHEW: I’m still ranting here. Because the other live album is Songs for a Nervous Planet (2024). And it’s great. Nothing to rival studio versions, but an enjoyable variant on them. And yet there’s a catch, similar to what annoys me about Secret World. Imagine this: your band is experiencing an extraordinary comeback, with your first album in two decades going Top Ten in the UK and US, your tour so successful that a live album is being prepared, and the creative juices are flowing so well that you have four new songs, half of another studio album! So, you release the live album (maybe with a live version of one of the new songs, included as a teaser), then take half a year to write and record four to six more songs, and release a sequel to that comeback hit. Right? Oh no. The TFF lads decided instead to shove those four new studio recordings onto the front end of the live album. WTAF?!

HOPE: I am ambivalent about the TFF live recordings.The experience of seeing TFF live is, like a lot of bands, far more compelling than hearing a live recording on a plain old piece of vinyl/CD or streaming service. Secret, is simply a document of what TFF were sounding like on their 2005 tour. Nothing more, nothing less. The two “new” songs tacked onto the end of it are kind of ho-hum.

In regards to (freakin’) Songs for a Nervous Planet, I share your irritation Matthew. It’s a confusing hodge podge that doesn’t work as an album. And get this, until you pointed out that TFF had mixed live songs with new studio tracks like this before (on Secret World), I hadn’t even remembered that this concept wasn’t a new, random thing for them. At first I wondered if my dislike of Songs for a Nervous Planet’s layout in particular was justified. I mean, I love Genesis’s Three Sides Live from 1982 and that LP features, yup, three live sides (recorded at various shows no less) and fourth side of studio tracks. So why did I worship that oddly constructed concoction and feel frustrated with TFF’s similar layout? Well, I think I accepted the Gens mix of live and studio because it was a “heyday album”, meaning when it was released they were still very much a contemporary band. It had vitality and topicality. It felt like an intentional assemblage. Songs for a Nervous Planet does not. It feels like a hasty marketing decision. 

MATTHEW: Sadly, yup. Part of my annoyance over the structure of Planet is that those four new songs are good. More than that, “Astronaut” and “The Girl That I Call Home” are great, and I really like “Say Goodbye to Mum and Dad” too. All three made it onto a playlist of 33 TFF faves I made last year. And they would have anchored a new studio album nicely. Take the best of those Tipping Point “bonus” tracks we mentioned and you’re over half way to an album. Easy for me to say, I know, and I’m not downplaying the inspiration and perspiration that goes into turning Roland’s genius into studio recordings. But still. Aaargh!

HOPE: Concurring! “Astronaut” deserved a better showcase. Also, songs about feeling like an outsider and wanting to live in another galaxy rule.

MATTHEW: Absolutely. “Astronaut” deserved better. It is incredible that almost half a century after Roland and Curt started a band together (the pre-TFF band Graduate), they can still deliver a pop song so strong and memorable. How about a retrospective singles compilation that begins with “Astronaut” and goes backwards, including every single—all forty (I think!) of them—ending with “Suffer the Children.” Or maybe ending with “Elvis Should Play Ska”?

HOPE: Yeah, but no. Better to end where TFF began, at “Suffer the Children.” Sure, “Elvis Should Play Ska” would take us back to the first Orzabal and Smith single, as it was the only 7” release from Acting My Age, the 1980 album by their first band, the quirky, okay-ish, mostly Mod-style five-piece Graduate. But it is a total outlier (to me) and bears no sonic relation to TFF. It’d be disruptive.

The other thing is that while the English Beat-esque “Elvis Should Play Ska” did hit the top ten in Spain, it isn’t that great a song. Plus it only received minimal love in the UK, peaking at sad, old #82 in the pop chart in 1980. All that matters is that the following year, Graduate broke up and formed TFF.

P.S.!!!  Both Songs from the Big Chair and Seeds of Love received the Super Deluxe Box Set treatment (in 2014 and 2021 respectively). Each were reissued as multi-disc sets featuring demos, B-Sides, alternate mixes and live stuff (you know the drill). It’s a lot. Maybe even too much

Before I took this picture, I hadn’t touched the Songs From the Big Chair box since the day I got it in 2014. Our first in person meeting after months of anticipation was electric. The box was fulsome and pretty. Then it was over.

When it comes to these exhaustive collections, not just these TFF ones, but those by any beloved artist, the most exciting moment is not listening to any of the contents. It is in fact the potential of experiencing something you’ve heard 3000x as new again and the actual unboxing. Those are the exciting parts. The moment when it first gets announced and you see there are unreleased songs in the tracklisting! Oh yes! The feeling when the box arrives and that massive shrinkwrapped monster is in your actual hands! Then comes the awed fondling of their handsome packaging and glossy booklets. You don’t simply have these Super Deluxes so much as you freakin’ possess them. Despite it not being a remotely sexual experience, it is all distressingly horny. Alas, those feelings of excitement are fleeting. 

There are some interesting things on both the SFTBC and Seeds boxes but nothing revelatory. I found the demos on the latter to be intriguing listens initially (one in particular, more on that below). But the story ended the same as always.The day after I received the boxes, read their contents and loaded the music into the digital library, I was done with ‘em. They were filed on the shelf with their well-groomed brothers and sisters forever

Solo/Outside projects

MATTHEW: Here is where we round up the various other projects into which Curt and Roland have put their creative energies. Graduate came before TFF, but what came after the 1990 split? Roland, of course, soon made two albums under the TFF banner. A third was also written and recorded, to be likewise released as a TFF album. But when Roland and Curt patched things up and reunited in 2000, Roland put out Tomcats Screaming Outside in 2001 as the only album released under his name. It did not chart. (I imagine that had Curt been involved, the album might have acquired a better name.) Meanwhile, Curt released a series of four solo albums. Soul on Board (1993), a flop in the UK and not released in the US, has long since been disowned by him. Mayfield (1998) was released under the band name Mayfield; it was re-released in 2000 as Aeroplane, with six extra tracks (which confusingly were released as an EP in the US also titled Aeroplane), and re-released again with an additional track in 2011. Halfway, Pleased (2008) and Deceptively Heavy (2013) complete the four. So what do you think of all those solo projects?

HOPE: Hmmm. Like most TFF-heads, I approached every solo excursion with hope! I mean, I bought every one! It wasn’t the hope that the albums themselves would be great but rather that there’d be one insanely fabulous new song to fall in love with forever. But of course nothing ever hit as hard as TFF. To be fair, there are a few fine things on the aforementioned LPs… just not enough to consider any of these records underrated, hidden gems as a whole. The two tracks that come closest to being “wows” on Roland’s Tomcats, are the U2-ish, anthemic “For the Love of Cain” and the moody “Day By Day By Day By Day By Day.” Curt’s lovelies are with his band Mayfield, specifically the swoony “Aeroplane” (best lyric: “All I want is a wet dream, ice-cream”. Hot.) and the mystical “Trees”. These are really nice songs, but they are not enough to lift the albums themselves out of just-okayness.

Which brings us to this weird aberration. After ten years of not recording as a duo, Roland and Curt reconvened in 2013 and recorded a messy cover of Arcade Fire’s “Ready to Start”. That song plus two additional covers of songs by Hot Chip and Animal Collective made up a three-song EP called Ready Boys & Girls that was made available for Record Store Day in 2014. It was well-intentioned but the tracks included seemed hopelessly dated even then.

MATTHEW: For me, all these albums are dispensable extras of interest only to hardcore fans. As mentioned when we talked about The Hurting, the Graduate album is a curiosity for anyone wondering what came before (but that didn’t even come close to the brilliance of The Hurting). As for the solo projects, I suspect there are some real fans of those albums, but I find they only send me fleeing back to Tears for Fears. Not because they are bad; they all contain valuable moments, even a gem or two (as you detail). But because they echo (or anticipate) TFF material without being as good as TFF records. And in the end, none of these albums are great. And as you say, the three covers on Ready Boys & Girls are from the years right before that 10” vinyl EP came out in 2014, and it is a must-have only for the most dedicated completists.

HOPE: One last thing! We need to acknowledge some of the wondrous work Roland did with other artists. First and foremost, he produced (w/David Bascombe), wrote (a few songs) and played (a bit) on former TFF bandmate Oleta Adams’s 1994 album Circle of One. It is a slick, lovely, gospel-flavored, jazz-seasoned LP for grown people and Oleta sounds like a freakin’ angel throughout. 36 years have passed and  “Rhythm of Life” (Composed by Roland and Nicky Holland!) and “Get Here” remain as gorgeous as the day they were recorded.

Mancrab were a duo consisting of singer Eddie Thomas and former TFF stalwart Ian Stanley. Their one and only song “Fish for Life” featured on the 1986 soundtrack of Karate Kid II (“Daniel-san, never put passion before principle”). It was written and produced by Stanley with Roland and sung by Eddie Thomas. It sounds exactly like a Tears for Fears song. If you didn’t know it was Mancrab, you’d swear on your life it was a freakin’ TFF record. It is a proper tune with a proper chorus. It was an all-star member of my favorite driving mixtape in ye olde ‘80s and if TFF had actually performed it, it’d absolutely be in my top twenty Tears tunes. Fish for Life!

In 1999, Roland (and Alan Griffiths) produced Icelandic singer-songwriter Emiliana Torrini’s Love in the Time of Science album. They also wrote its two best songs: the sleek, stringy and sad “Wednesday’s Child” and the epic Bjork-meets-the-Beatles ballad “Baby Blue”. Both are worth seeking out.

These fours walls may not be seventh heaven but this song sure is.

MATTHEW: You’re so right about that Mancrab song! I’d love to hear it sung by Roland with Curt on backing vocals—it would sound like an outtake from late-80s TFF studio sessions. They should record it for the next album, thus giving Ian Stanley (unsung hero of early TFF albums) some royalties (online rumor has him living as a farmer in Ireland). I agree too that the Oleta Adams album is gorgeous and holds up well. Likewise, that debut Emiliana Torrini album, which I only discovered when she sang a Thievery Corporation track, and she’s long been my favorite Icelandic artist (yes, that’s tongue in cheek, and a dig at Bjork!). Again, how about Roland and Curt recording some of these songs they’ve written for others, or at least just collecting them together? I’d rather hear “Baby Blue” or “Fish for Life” than that overplayed “Mad World” cover, wouldn’t you?

HOPE: Oh man, a compilation album of TFF songs they gifted to others sung by TFF themselves? I would LOVE that. The demo for “Rhythm of Life” actually featured on the super deluxe version of Seeds of Love and Roland’s vocal on it is straight-up soul girl. ‘Tis beautiful. Oh hell, just listen to it here.

I never got into the, yes, overplayed Gary Jules’s cover of “Mad World”. It’s fine but as far as TFF covers, I’ll take Japanese Breakfast’s spare, breathy version of “Head Over Heels” over that any day (Hear it here).

Curt And Roland being all elder statesman-ee in 2022.

In Conclusion

When Matthew and I decided to focus on Tears for Fears for this discographic breakdown, I wondered how we should frame it. And the first thing that came to mind was how despite their immense success, Roland and Curt were never showered with the same reverential love and respect as ‘80s contemporaries like Depeche Mode and The Cure. They simply weren’t as cool or, dare I say, poetic. They weren’t regarded as eccentric geniuses like Kate Bush or as masterful pop icons like George Michael. And okay, they didn’t inspire the insane sexual fervor that Duran Duran did. They were just a couple of magical nerds who created brilliant songs. 

To be honest, this piece wasn’t so much about answering the question ”Who is the greatest ‘80s- era band” as it was, “hey, these blokes are as great as any one of these anointed heroes”. That “anointed” is literal. See, every single one of the aforementioned artists has been inducted into the (freakin’) Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. TFF have never even been nominated. 

Okay, that place is a motherfuckin’ mess, but still.

I guess all we know is that after 40 plus years of existence, that moment when the verse turns into the chorus on “Head Over Heels” still has the ability to leave us all reeling no matter how billions of times we’ve heard it. The possibility of new TFF recordings still inspires hope that your next new favorite song is right around the corner. And that opening guitar riff on “Everybody Wants to Rule the Rule”? It still has the power to ignite a million ecstatic endorphins in every mammal who happens to be within earshot of it. Somewhere in the world right now, it’s doing that very thing. And it’ll keep on doing that as long as this giant dustball is spinning. Tears for Fears, cheers, cheers, cheers.

Ranking the Albums!

HOPE

The Seeds of Love (10/10)

Songs from the Big Chair (9/10)

The Hurting (8/10)

Raoul and the Kings of Spain (7/10)

The Tipping Point (7/10)

Everybody Loves a Happy Ending (6/10)

Elemental (6/10)

MATTHEW

1–Songs from the Big Chair (9/10)

2=Everybody Loves a Happy Ending (9/10)

2=Raoul and the Kings of Spain (9/10)

4=The Hurting (8/10)

4=The Seeds of Love (8/10)

6–The Tipping Point (8/10)

7–Elemental (6/10)

Ten Favorite Songs!

HOPE (in alphabetic order)

Famous Last Words

Head Over Heels

Laid So Low (Tears Roll Down)

Listen

Me and My Big Ideas

Secrets

Secret World

The Working Hour

Woman in Chains

Year of the Knife

MATTHEW (in alphabetic order)

Astronaut

Closest Thing to Heaven

Cold

Head Over Heels

Pale Shelter

Rivers of Mercy

Secrets

Secret World

Sowing the Seeds of Love

Woman in Chains

Thanks for listening ❤️ YOU rule. Welcome (back) to your life…

Coming Soon!

So back in 2016, I drew a little tribute to Prince in chalk on the bumpy wall of Rough Trade Shop in Brooklyn. It featured the lyrics of “I Would Die 4 U’, my all-time favorite song of his. I also wrote an embarrassing appreciation of the song a while back if you want to check it out and laugh at me (Read it here!). Well, apparently I am still not done thinking about this freakin’ song. It is completely embedded in my psyche. Freakin’ pop music strikes again. My latest nerdy art project is making faux 7″ covers on actual blank sleeves, drawing on both sides with markers. Guess what the first one I’ve made is? Yup, it’s “I Would Die 4 U’. And now it’s no longer just a tribute to Prince and the song, but is also a nod to the long-erased chalk drawing on the wall above (I hardly knew you brother). Anyway, here is the front cover:

And here is the back cover!

I should warn you, I’m going to post more of these little monsters here, but not at the expense of the big stuff, which is the real reason I’m writing this.

Coming in March (finally!): A massive discographic breakdown of a fabulous band! And coming soon after that will be an insane and ridiculous album list. We’ve never done a list before. It will be mess, full of love and confusion (Promise).

Thanks for still hanging or just starting to hang with PuR. You absolutely rule 🙂

So Fine: A Discographic Journey into the Electric Light Orchestra (1971-Present)

Have you ever wished the spaceship would come get you already and take you back to your home planet? If so, the Electric Light Orchestra is your band and Jeff Lynne is your starship commander. In 2024, ELO apparently entered its final stage in our galaxy, with the passing of the band’s longtime keyboardist/right-hand man, Richard Tandy, and Lynne wrapping up his farewell ELO tour.

We (me, Hope, and historian Matthew Restall), think it is therefore time to turn the PuR eyeballs toward the melodically-otherworldly, rain-soaked universe of ELO. Climb aboard as we dissect ‘n’ discuss, rate ‘n’ rank the entire ELO and solo-Lynne discography. Love, longing and lightning await you…

MATTHEW: The origin story of ELO is too complicated to detail heavily here (if you’re a serious fan, you’ll know it already; if you’re not, you won’t care to be dragged into the weeds). So here’s a very short version. Two friends (Roy Wood and Jeff Lynne) had moderately successful bands in late-1960s England (The Move, 1965-72, and The Idle Race, 1966-72, respectively). In 1970, Wood persuaded Lynne to leave The Idle Race and join his band, but with the goal of creating an additional parallel band. The plan was to keep making pop-rock with The Move, while exploring strings-based prog rock (“classically based original music,” Wood put it in 1970) as the Electric Light Orchestra. How did it go? Keep reading!*

(*I found these three very useful: Barry Delve’s On Track…Electric Light Orchestra; John Van Der Kiste’s Electric Light Orchestra: Song by Song; and Lynne’s liner notes to the Box Set we discuss later.)

HOPE: Matthew and I were part of the second generation of Beatle fans who had been babies and/or toddlers when they initially swept the world. While it was fun (and revelatory) rumbling through their vast discography during our ‘70s kid-dom, we still craved new sounds that “belonged” to us and weren’t hand-me-downs from a previous generation (like you do). Enter the Electric Light Orchestra, aka ELO, the ultimate gift for those born-too-late-for-The Beatles kids. While ELO were not specifically invented for children, their sound had a kind of rainbow candy-tunefulness and over-the-top drama that especially appealed to the tween-nerd ear. What they lacked in pin-up-ability and heartthrob-iness they made up for in barnacle-like choruses and dreamy lyrical imagery. Most importantly, they had an insanely cool logo that could be easily replicated on junior high notebooks (not to brag, but my ELO logos killed).

MATTHEW: Oh yes, there were some ELO spaceships on my school notebooks, too (not a patch on yours, I’m sure). And I agree that the timing for us was perfect: you and I turned 12 the year A New World Record came out. With that leap from clunky prog to Beatles-from-Birmingham pop-rock for our generation, I was hooked. And I still am, a half-century later.

Don’t Bring Me Down: Just a note on the format of this essay, Matthew and I are going to be taking turns offering up our ELO assessments and our names will appear before our respective comments. The peak chart positions in the UK and US for each album are listed beneath their titles. We are going to rate each album individually as we go (on a classic 1-10, hate-to-love scale).

MATTHEW: We’ve adopted a fairly inclusive approach here. As well as the obvious eleven Electric Light Orchestra albums of 1971-86, we also rate and discuss the half-ELO Xanadu, the two solo Jeff Lynne albums, and the three comeback albums of this century (released under ELO or under Jeff Lynne’s ELO). A grand total of 17. We ignore precursor bands The Idle Race and The Move, Wood’s Wizzard, Lynne’s later supergroup The Traveling Wilburys, as well as ELO drummer Bev Bevan’s 1989-99 offshoot band, Electric Light Orchestra Part Two. Are our choices justified?


The Studio Albums, (1971-2019)

The Electric Light Orchestra (1971)/ No Answer (1972, in the US)
(UK #32, US #196)

HOPE: There’s a funny bit of folklore attached to the title of the slightly-later US version.

MATTHEW: Yes, I love that bit of ELO-lore! The story: the US label called the UK to ask for the album title; nobody picked up, so “no answer” was written on the message slip by someone whose boss read it as, well, the answer. Nice.

So, is this first album the place to start for the ELO-curious, for those who wonder how the band went from obscurity to international stardom, then from guilty pleasure to national treasure (a rhyme I just stole from the above-mentioned Barry Delve)?

HOPE: Ironically, this first album would be the last one I would recommend to an ELO naif! Yes, the idea of combining rock sounds with orchestral flavors and pouring Beatles-flavored syrup on top was a genuinely inspired one. And to be fair, this debut LP is sonically adventurous in places, extremely earnest everywhere and somewhat successful as an initial mission statement. But it’s not a fun or remotely transcendent listen, which is to say the songs ain’t that great. The Electric Light Orchestra aka No Answer album is an exceptionally “proggy” affair. There’s unpleasantly kitschy prog (“Battle of Marston Moor”). There’s meanderingly indecisive prog (“Nellie Takes Her Bow”). And of course there’s a bit of medieval-flavored prog because that was the law (“Whisper In the Night”). It also veers dangerously close to being a Beatle pastiche at times i.e. like a proto/more serious version of The Rutles, especially on ”Look At Me Now” (which is in love with “Eleanor Rigby”) and “10530 Overture” (which openly worships at the altar of “Dear Prudence”)!

MATTHEW: Lynne has commented on the “great fun” he and his “good mate” Roy Wood had in making this album, and it shows. He has also conceded that “it’s a pretty whacky one, so innocent yet so bold. It goes to some really strange places.” That it does. I agree that as an introduction to ELO, it doesn’t work. The ingredients that would later constitute the classic ELO sound are not all here, and those that are present are not combined in the ways that Lynne would later come to perfect. Half the album was written by Wood (whereas Lynne himself would write most of the next one and all of every subsequent album), and that alone makes No Answer unique in the ELO catalog. As Lynne had joined Wood and Bev Bevan for the second half of The Move’s life (its four 1968-71 albums), and Bevan was the drummer here (and would remain ELO’s drummer), this is more of a transition album from The Move to ELO—with The Move still alive and releasing singles at the time. That original Lynne/Wood plan for the two bands to continue to exist in parallel, with almost the same personnel, one rock, the other an experiment in breaking down the rock/classical music divide (as Emerson, Lake, and Palmer were also doing) is crucial context. Heard as such—as experimental fun by three good mates, all young and talented—the album is an enjoyable curiosity.

HOPE: The strongest tracks present on the debut were written by Lynne, specifically the goofy ‘n’ wistful “Mr. Radio” (time and technology have ensured that songs about the radio all sound impossibly romantic now) and the aforementioned opener, “10530 Overture,” which is home to one seriously majestic and memorable riff (that song really knows how to enter a room). That leads me to a question! This turned out to be the only ELO album on which Roy Wood was a full-time participant. So, I’ve gotta know Matthew, what are your thoughts on the Wood solo and/or Wizzard albums he did post-ELO?

MATTHEW: Yes, that opening riff to “10530 Overture” is awesome, not surprisingly ripped off multiple times (yes, I’m looking at you, Paul Weller). But the track wears thin by the end. Similarly, “Look At Me Now” has its charms, but it’s more very early Pink Floyd than ELO (if one wanted to be uncharitable: it’s second-rate Syd Barrett). Although now you’ve mentioned “Eleanor Rigby,” I hear that too. And so it goes for 41 minutes: a scattering of intriguing or beguiling moments mixed with thin-wearing very-early-‘70s English prog rock, more often evoking other prog acts than later ELO. And that Beatles influence is indeed evident on “Mr. Radio,” which I like too. In fact, I was leaning towards “Overture” and “Radio” as my standout picks, when I realized that they were the two that Lynne picked for the Flashback compilation. Go Jeff!

As for Wood and Wizzard (yup, two zeds), apologies to the fans, but I’ve tried and … I just can’t.

HOPE: Me neither.

Favorite two tracks: Matthew, “10538 Overture,” “Mr. Radio”; Hope, “10538 Overture,” “Mr. Radio” (yup, I concur)

Album Rating: Matthew, 4/10; Hope, 3/10.


ELO 2 (1973)/ELO II (in the US)
(UK #35, US #62)

MATTHEW: You might expect that the first five ELO albums might form a steady upward curve of evolution towards the triumphant records of their imperial phase. But they don’t. Or, because Wood departed early in the recording of this one (going off to found Wizzard, never to return), you might expect this sophomore effort to represent a noticeable shift from the murky cello-swamped debut towards a poppier future. But it doesn’t. If anything, it goes deeper into the prog woods, where it tends to get lost. There’s a hint of Lynne’s songwriting genius on Side One’s “Momma,” which rolls into the brilliant smash-up on Chuck Berry’s “Roll Over Beethoven” (more a cover of The Beatles’ cover) with the signature opening riff of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Forget the single edit (notable as ELO’s first visit to the singles charts); the album version is essential ELO. But the rest of the album is a bit of a slog, its tracks too long, the strings weighing them down rather than helping them soar. For me, at this point, that curve is flat.

HOPE: There’s a funny, opinionated line within the album’s Wikipedia page that I want to share. Ready?:  “Along with its predecessor, ELO 2 is the least commercial-sounding album the band released, although it reached the British Top 40 album chart, whereas its more concise follow-up, On the Third Day, did not”. There’s a detectable sprinkle of “I’m a long term ELO fan” in that assessment (“more concise”) but I see what this contributor was getting at. ELO 2/II might “only” be five tracks (the shortest of which clocks in at nearly seven freakin’ minutes) but I agree with you Matthew; it is a freakin’ slog…and right from the start too. While I’m not a fan of the album’s best-known song “Roll Over Beethoven” (I accept my banishment from the church of rock ‘n’ roll), it would have been a far better choice to open the LP than the proggy, clumsy mudball that is “In Old England Town (Boogie #2). Its evil twin “From the Sun to the World (Boogie #1)” sounds like a handful of unfinished songs Frankenstein’d together. Enjoyably dirty symphonic chugger “Kuiama” is stretched to an ungodly 11-minutes thanks to an unnecessary, extended instrumental break. So yes, as our Wiki-friend suggested, ELO 2/II is not terribly “concise”. The album would be a complete fail (to me, to me) if not for the pretty, moody “Momma” (aka “Mama” on U.S.edition of album), a crystal ball of a song that hints at the beauteous sonic direction ELO would be heading.

MATTHEW: Banished! “Roll Over Beethoven” is indispensable ELO! But I understand: I’m not allowed by family members to play it in my house or in the car unless I’m alone. It was the first ELO track I ever heard on the radio; I was 9 years old, a budding little music nerd, and I thought it was great fun. And no doubt someone reading this can relate. But I get why others might hear it the way I hear, for example, “In Old England Town.”  As for you, Hope, you called Jeff’s “Momma” pretty, so you’re allowed back into the church of rock ‘n’ roll.

HOPE: I’m with your fam: I wouldn’t let you play “Roll Over” in the house (or vehicle) either. Fast forward.

Favorite two tracks: Hope,  “Momma”, the first four minutes of “Kuiama”; Matthew, “Momma,” “Roll Over Beethoven.”

Album Rating: Hope, 3/10; Matthew, 3/10.


Look at this crazy ass print ad for ELO II.


On the Third Day (1973)
(UK did not chart, US #52)

MATTHEW: In retrospect, it is not surprising that after the first two albums briefly popped into the UK Top 40 album charts, this failed to chart at all.  For the best track on here—in fact, the best ELO song to date, and the first song that could sit without shame in a compilation of gems from their best albums—wasn’t even on the UK release. A post-album single release in the UK, “Showdown” was hastily added to the US version. Without it, Side One is more muddled prog, billed as four tracks but really one 16-minute composition of the kind that dominated the first two albums. Side Two, however, saves the third day (as it were). The passable instrumental “Daybreaker” leads into the stomping joy of “Ma-Ma-Ma-Belle,” which borrows the riff-powered hard-rocking fun of ELO 2’s “Roll Over Beethoven” and serves it up within an original Lynne composition. It’s fantastic. Unfortunately, this is not the breakthrough ELO album, and the remaining two tracks are more full of potential than realized promise. “Dreaming of 4000” is like a mish-mash of demos of three songs that all evolved years later into great tracks on classic albums. The closing track is Lynne’s homage to Grieg’s “In the Hall of the Mountain King,” a reference I grew to appreciate in my teens (having missed this album in real time, as most people did), being brought up on classical music and thus thrilled by how this was both respectful and disrespectful. In retrospect, it is fun, but still too sluggish to rate anywhere high in the ELO song discography.

HOPE: Opening On the Third Day with a freakin’ 16-minute suite of four songs billed as individual entities is a cheeky move (self-important too, but I appreciate the cocky trickery of the gesture). That said, OTTD (let’s just call it) is a low-key log jam of missed opportunities. “Ma-Ma-Ma-Belle” would have been a glorious, glammy Godzilla of an opener. If only sophisticated stringed-popper “Showdown”—the finest ELO tune at that point in time—had been available for inclusion on the UK version and wasn’t clumsily slapped onto the U.S. version of the LP at the end of Side One. And it sucks that the exceedingly handsome, ascendingly-chorused “Bluebird is Dead” is hidden within the suffocating aforementioned suite of “muddled prog.” But OTTD’s issues extend far beyond its sequencing. Fact is, apart from the three aforementioned tunes, it doesn’t feature enough memorable songs to lift it out of mediocrity. 

Hi Mom.

MATTHEW: You’re right about “Bluebird is Dead”; removed from Side One and sequenced with “Showdown,” it becomes one of the album’s keepers. “Showdown” is quintessential ELO, the starting-point blueprint for its future classics. Did you know OTTD was originally conceived as a double LP, with one live disc and one comprising “a 45-minute number with millions of different movements” (as Lynne declared at the start of 1973)? Presumably “Showdown”-free. Sorry for your loss, prog fans.

HOPE: Good lord almighty, was it? Even now, 50+ years on from this nixed plan, the thought of a 45-minute prog-adventure piece by ELO circa 1973 sounds, let’s just say, aurally difficult. On a more positive sidenote, I want to worshipfully acknowledge soul diva (and primary Paul Anka duet partner) Odia Coates’ fabulous cover version of “Showdown” from 1975. It doesn’t eclipse the original but it comes damn close. Hear it here

Favorite two tracks: Matthew, “Showdown,” “Ma-Ma-Ma-Belle”; Hope,”Showdown”, “Bluebird Is Dead”

Album Rating: Matthew, 4/10 (UK), 5/10 (US); Hope, 3/10 (UK), 4/10 (US).


Eldorado: A Symphony by the Electric Light Orchestra (1974)
(UK did not chart, US #16)

HOPE: Eldorado is confusing. For starry-eyed romanticists (you, me, most ELO fans), this lushly orchestrated album describing the extravagant, fantastical daydreams of an ordinary soul, sounds pretty heavenly on paper. The actual record though is another story. Apart from the spaced-out, swoony classic “Can’t Get It Out Of My Head” and epic string-fest “Mister Kingdom”, the other songs telling the tale are not as engaging or unassumingly majestic as the subject matter. Faceless and (oddly) over-the-top fodder like “Laredo Tornado” and “Poorboy” don’t hold up as singular entities. Nor do Speakeasy era-flavored “Nobody’s Child”, pompously-intro’d “Boy Blue,” or the title track with its bellowing vocal impression of Roy Orbison. 

Okay, now here’s the confusing part for me; while it isn’t full of shiny diamonds—only two out of the 10 tracks qualify as keepers—it’s kind of fun to listen to Eldorado as a whole. It’s like a book that isn’t that great but its occasional moments of inspiration make it worth hanging in until the end. What do you think Matthew, am I crazy? 

MATTHEW: Actually, I think you are sane and spot on. There are moments or pieces of songs on Eldorado that are brilliant (I love the guitar riff on “Laredo Tornado,” the furious strings at the end of “Overture” and “Poor Boy,” and Lynne’s vocal performance on the title track, for example). But they don’t amount to an album full of great songs that on their own stand up tall with the classic tracks on ELO’s imperial phase albums. That said, the album has grown on me recently, especially once I accepted that it needs to be played in one sitting, appreciated as a whole. I get why this is rated so highly as classic ELO by some fans. Played as a single composition—a symphony, if you like, as the subtitle proclaims—it can be an enjoyable, inventive, coherent concept album, clearly better than its three predecessors.

HOPE: Until we started writing this, I hadn’t realized just how gradual the evolution of the signature ELO sound was. 

MATTHEW: Yes, and Eldorado is an important step in that evolution. I must admit that for decades, I tended to leave Eldorado on the shelf in favor of albums like A New World Record. A crucial feature of the best ELO albums is pacing: Lynne is a master of the deft sequencing of rockers, mid-tempo pop, and ballads. And Eldorado isn’t one of those albums (the first of them would be A New World Record). There is also a relentlessness to Eldorado, the weight of its 40-piece orchestra making it feel longer than its 39 minutes. Also, having one brilliant smash single is always a problem for an album, and “Can’t Get It Out of My Head” overshadows the rest of the record. Or certainly Side One; that classic hit aside (ELO’s first Top Ten single: #9 in the US), Side Two is better, with “Mister Kingdom” channeling Lennon and “Across the Universe,” “Nobody’s Child” echoing early musical theater, and “Eldorado” giving a melodramatic twist to the melodic melancholy pop he is soon to perfect. Keyboardist Richard Tandy (arguably ELO’s second string, as it were, for the next decade), never co-wrote songs, but his influence on their structure and sound can be heard here—and increasingly as the band moved towards their imperial phase.

By the way, can you hear angry hired orchestral musicians noisily packing up during the quieter piano part to “Nobody’s Child”? I can’t! Some claim to hear it on “Eldorado Finale.” I believe the story but I’m not convinced the slamming cases are audible. The musicians’ adherence to union rules—fair enough!—was reputed to be one of the reasons why this was the last ELO album recorded in the UK.

HOPE: Right, so because I care, I put on the giant Bose headphones to see if I could detect these infamous sounds. I could not.

Favorite two tracks: Hope, “Can’t Get It Out of My Head” ,”Mister Kingdom”; Matthew, “Can’t Get It Out of My Head,” “Eldorado/Eldorado Finale.”

Album Rating: Hope, 5/10; Matthew, 6/10.


Face The Music (1975)
(UK did not chart, US #8)

MATTHEW: I’m conflicted over Face the Music. I discovered it almost in real time, the year after it came out, soon after A New World Record (when I was twelve). I’d later find chances to explore the four previous ELO albums, and to appreciate how much Face the Music showcased the steady honing of talent and skill by Lynne and his bandmates (the drumming on this fantastic, for example). And yet it has ever since remained overshadowed in my mind by its sequel—this one fine but flawed, that one pretty much flawless. Is that unfair or unfortunate?

HOPE: Let’s just call it evolution (again)! I’d characterize Face the Music as “half-full”, albeit in two completely different ways. On the one hand, it was definitely a sonic step forward in terms of overall sound, song quality and sophistication which was cause for great optimism and a characterization of “half-full” (So I’m with you there). On the other hand it is literally “half-full”, as in exactly four of its eight songs are keepers, and four are not. The album’s two best known tracks and members of the aforementioned ‘fab four’—nasty pop locomotive with fab Lynne vocal “Evil Woman” and woozy dreamboat “Strange Magic”—are both justifiably regarded as ELO classics. That said, my primary love interests on this LP are less famous cuts: The wistful, unspeakably gorgeous “One Summer Dream” with its coy melodic nod to the schmaltzy, #1 pop instrumental hit from 1959 “Theme from A Summer Place,” and the galloping, swirling-stringed duet between Lynne and bassist Kelly Groucutt, “Nightrider.” As alluded to earlier, the other four tunes aren’t stellar. From tolerable orchestral rock drama queen and undeserving opening track “Fire On High” to ordinary, unexciting Lennon-esque “Waterfall”, to cringey monsters “Down Home Town”and “Poker”, none hold a candle to the album’s “fab four”.

MATTHEW: I’ve rated Face the Music higher than Eldorado, because I think 6/8 tracks are excellent (yes, Hope, more than your 4/8!), all deserving of spots on “best of” mixes, with Side One the first truly great Side One in their catalog (and there are several). But, ironically, Eldorado is arguably more successful as an album, due to its consistency and lack of total misfits like the two songs I pretty much loathe here: “Poker” and “Down Home Town.” They aren’t horrible on their own (to be generous, “Poker” is a very creative slightly-proggy take on the English pub band sound that was about to evolve into punk). But they don’t belong here. They’re B-sides that ruin Side Two.

HOPE: I’m mostly with you, especially in regard to the listening experience of Eldorado vs. Face the Music. But I can’t commit to a much higher overall rating for Face because there just plain aren’t enough good songs present. All I can do is offer this corny characterization: Eldorado and Face the Music are ELO’s coming of age albums, occasionally  glorious, often confused but evidence of the band growing bigger and stronger and well on the road to figuring out who the hell they are…and they did, damn did they ever, on what came next.

Favorite two tracks: Matthew, “Evil Woman,” “Strange Magic” as obvious choices, but the bookend tracks “Fire on High” and “One Summer Dream” when I’m feeling less obvious; Hope, “Nightrider”, “One Summer Dream,” but I maintain a loyal fondness for “Evil Woman” and  “Strange Magic.”

Album Rating: Matthew, 8/10; Hope, 6/10.


A New World Record (1976)
(UK #6, US #5)

HOPE: Home to a slate of equally dreamy and eccentric radio anthems, A New World Record is the first certifiably kickass ELO album. 

MATTHEW: Isn’t it amazing, the pure joy of dropping the needle or tapping the Play button on an album that requires no skips, prompts no sighs of disappointment? Trust is a beautiful and liberating thing, and from the dramatic opening string section of “Tightrope,” we trust that Jeff and his mates aren’t going to let us down. In some ways, this feels like just another step forward from the clunkiness of the first album to the perfection of Out of the Blue, like a better version of Face the Music.  Yet, somehow, it’s not a step, but a leap. Similar to its predecessor, but with the ELO ingredients mixed exactly right. For the first time, there are no experiments that don’t work, no clumsy cello chunks, no tiresome old-school rock indulgences—hell, there aren’t even filler moments. Every track is great, and—more importantly—it works spectacularly well as an album, shining most brightly when played exactly as Lynne delivered it—from that spectral opening of “Tightrope” to the ethereal bliss of the long end to “Shangri-La.”

HOPE: You are so right. It is truly a giant leap. A New World Record is the sound of the ELO spaceship that has been circling overhead on the five preceding albums, finally landing. 

Rocked-up, be-stringed joyride “Tightrope” is the perfect opening track. Masterfully straddling the line between silly and sincere, the angsty and endearingly dated ballad “Telephone Line” remains a fab choice for home-alone-karaoke (For those of you who have “performed” this track “off-stage”, I see you and I am you). My nominee for album underdog/lynchpin is the widescreen-romantic anthem “So Fine” which is basically Springsteen’s “Born To Run” done ELO style. And want to give honorable mention to the short, sweet and swoony “Above the Clouds” which sees our heroes morphing into something akin to the Birmingham Beach Boys. Then of course there’s “Livin’ Thing”. Back in 2006 Q magazine had this song at #1 on their “Guilty Pleasures” ranking. First off, fuck the concept of “guilty pleasures”. Embrace your internal wiring! Own your musical loves! Don’t let anyone tell you how you should feel! Sorry, that characterization just makes me crazy. It’s just that “Livin’ Thing” rules. From the soulful falsettos (“you-ooh and your sweet desire”) to the classical string flourishes to the kitschy vocal effects (“I’m takin’ a dive-dive-dive”). It’s so freakin’ kooky. I think this is why I adored it so much as a kid.

Backlit afros. Blue Satin. ‘Bev Bevan’ boldly emblazoned on the bass drum. Beautiful.

MATTHEW: How can this album be so similar to its predecessors and yet so much better? It’s like a master class in how the ingredients can be right, yet that doesn’t matter unless they are assembled in the right way. As a reminder of that, “Do Ya” is on here, re-recorded as a great ELO track, eclipsing its origins as a just-ok single by The Move (their only song to chart in the US, reaching #93 in 1972). The album’s other rocker, “Rockaria!”, is a self-parody, a sly and witty poke at the band’s own conceptual rationale. A tiny touch seals the deal on how hilariously successful the song is: a false start made in rehearsal by Welsh soprano Mary Thomas was dropped into the beginning of the final mix. Finally, why do I so love “Shangri-La”? Perhaps because in my early teens I’d listen to ANWR on my headphones in bed, and the outro to this last track sent me to a place of happy dreams—to my own slumbering Shangri-la.

HOPE: Oh yes, the updated version of “Do Ya” is infinitely hotter than The Move’s original take. I don’t love “Rockaria,” meaning I wouldn’t single it out for repeat plays, but in the context of the album its OTT rock ridiculousness and Mary Thomas’s operatic runs fit the album’s epic personality. I’m also not as big of a “Shangri La”-head as you (I like it, don’t love it), nor do I adore”Mission (A World Record)” with its excessive Beatle-isms. But again, within the context of ANWR (let’s just call it) they totally freakin’ work. They are wondrous glue.

And gotta acknowledge something that doesn’t get lauded very often: Jeff’s Lynne’s voice. His growing vocal confidence is on full display throughout ANWR. He flexes (“Tightrope”), he coos (“Above the Clouds”, “Telephone Line”), he belts (“Do Ya”) and he sounds really f*cking good doing every single thing. A New World Record is a succinct mofo, with none of the chaff that overwhelmed/diffused the five previous albums (to varying degrees). This album was the one that turned my admittedly non-committal flirtation with ELO into full-on love (forever).

Favorite two tracks: Hope, “So Fine”, “Above The Clouds”; Matthew, the first four tracks comprise the best Side One in the catalog, but if I have to pick only two it would be the ballads “Telephone Line” and “Shangri-La.”

Album Rating: Hope, 10/10; Matthew, 10/10.


Out of the Blue (1977)
(UK #4, US #4)

MATTHEW: How do you follow an album that sells five million units in its first year, launching your band after five years of struggle into the stratosphere of one of the top rock bands in the world? It would be improbable, perhaps impossible, to produce an even better album the following year—and a double album at that. Yet that’s what Lynne, Tandy, and Bevan did. It sold ten million copies its first year, and settled into the UK charts for 100 weeks. Delve calls it “A New World Record on steroids,” the band’s “creative apex”; for Van Der Kiste it’s “ELO’s magnum opus,” their Sergeant Pepper. Many superlatives have been used, and many apply.

To me, Out of the Blue is simply one of the very best doubles ever delivered. A 29-year-old Lynne legendarily wrote it with astonishing speed in the Swiss Alps (14 of its 17 songs in just two weeks), but arguably the real magic happened in the Munich recording studio. There was an alchemy to the capturing of that creative momentum, turning the 70 minutes of Out of the Blue into a remarkably coherent masterwork—despite its content ranging from the silly to the sublime, from whimsical to epic. An unusually wet German summer also inspired what is hands down my favorite vinyl side in the whole ELO catalog: Side Three, its four songs comprising a continuous “Concerto for a Rainy Day.”

HOPE: Number one in our hearts and an unassuming but respectable #183 on UNCUT’s 500 Greatest Albums of the 1970s list, Out of the Blue aka OOTB is the greatest, most magnificent ELO album ever. I should note that back in the day I used the cardboard spaceship included with the LP to store weed. I can still see that random, pathetic, reeking little roach sitting inside of it like it was yesterday. 

MATTHEW: Now that is the best use of an ELO record sleeve or CD box that I’ve ever heard. I shall never see those ELO spaceships the same way again.

HOPE:  The tween-teen years are not a time of patience. So a double album—or “two-record-set” as we sometimes used to call it in the ‘70s—was a real test of the average kid’s attention span…meaning a young one in possession of a giant, new ELO album could only be counted on to only get so far in terms of musical immersion…meaning when confronted with four whole sides of music, your (my) restless, juvenile arse tended to fixate/focus on one particular side. And when it came to OOTB that was Side Three, otherwise known as “Concerto for a Rainy Day.” Menacing, windswept melodrama (“Standin’ in the Rain”) slides into tear-jerking balladry (“Big Wheels”) leading to a burst of shimmery, hopefulness  (“Summer and Lightning”) culminating in a celebratory sing-a-long anthem “Mr.Blue Sky” (Also known as every kid’s favorite ELO song). That’s one hell of a side there.

MATTHEW: I love “Concerto for a Rainy Day” so much that I want it played at my funeral. I (hopefully) won’t hear it in my coffin, and my family won’t thank me for it, but what the hell (as it were). Rain is Lynne’s favorite metaphor for melancholy, and blue his favorite multi-purpose metaphorical color. That makes “Concerto” quintessential ELO, with its drama, then its sadness, then its giddily joyful ending. Perfect for a funeral, right?

HOPE: I couldn’t possibly top that, which is clearly a sign that it’s time to talk about the tracks occupying the other three sides of OOTB. Those songs fall into two categories: The Sublime™ and The Stalwart™. Members of The Sublime™ team include swoony, galactic ballad “Starlight”, kitschy-ridiculous “Jungle” (Hello, cringey tap-dancing break!) and the shimmery duet between Lynne and bassist Kelly Groucutt, “Sweet Is the Night” with an honorable mention for lushly whirling instrumental “The Whale”. 

The rest of the tracks make up The Stalwart™ crew, a supporting cast of seven that act as a super fine adhesive, holding the whole epic together (“It’s Over”, another one of those Beach Boys-by-way-of- Birmingham tracks, is the best of the bunch but compliments to “Night In The City” and “Steppin’ Out” which sound like delicately demented Bee Gees songs). Devil’s Advocate query time!: While the 17-song OOTB is full of wonder and oomph, do you think it would have been as sonically impactful if it had been edited down to a single 10-12 song LP? 

MATTHEW: Let’s face it, most good double albums would be better edited down to (an infeasible) three sides. But not OOTB. I’d not want to lose a single track. Not even “Jungle,” which as the seventh track plays the role that those eye-rolling comic relief moments do in the middle of Shakespeare dramas. (Yes, I just compared ELO to Shakespeare. Problem?) It’s good for a smile, throwing into relief the dramatic impact of the songs around it. As for your deft dichotomy, Hope, Sublime™ vs Stalwart™, I may ruin it by packing most tracks into the Sublime bag: “It’s Over,” “Sweet Talkin’ Woman,” “Night in the City,” “Starlight,” “Believe Me Now/Steppin’ Out,” “Sweet is the Night,” “The Whale.” (All of “Concerto” would be in there too, of course.) Every one of those is so rich, so full of melodic beauty and musical wit, so endlessly enjoyable. Even what’s left (the Stalwarts) is brilliant: two of the album’s four UK hit singles (“Turn to Stone” and “Wild West Hero”) and two that could have been singles (“Across the Border” and “Birmingham Blues”).

Here’s a pic of the full fold out cover featuring the gorgeous art of Shusei Nagaoka just because. Still waiting for this ship to come and get us already.

HOPE:  And I guess that’s ultimately the thing: While OOTB is (gloriously) ‘50s movie-melodramatic and downright silly in (a lot of) spots, there aren’t ANY bad songs. What’s crazy is that those very qualities, coupled with the ELO’s ongoing, overt Beatle-lust and their always OTT orchestration made the album (and the band themselves) an easy target for crusty music critics to lay into when it was first released. The 1978 Rolling Stone review by Billy Altman was typically brutal and elitist:

One could say it, and one would be right, though self-absorption is not any grounds for attacking a rock band; it’s almost impossible to think of a band or an artist that isn’t mainly ego. When one crosses over into self-indulgence, however, it’s a different story completely. I didn’t read the credits until after I had waded through the four sides of this totally uninteresting and horrifyingly sterile package. What I heard was a meticulously produced and performed set of songs…without any noticeable passion or emotion. All method and no madness: perfectly hollow and bland rock Muzak. Solos are virtually nonexistent, which makes perfect sense because an individual statement by any one instrument would set the ELO ship jaggedly off course by injecting some heart into the proceedings. Group commander Jeff Lynne obviously is consumed by his vision of the totality of the ELO sound, floating slowly through the void. 

Damn Billy, you sure did hate ELO. But so did a lot of other music critics. That’s just how it was back then, yup. If you’d have asked me to define what “self-absorption” was as it related to OOTB when I was 13, I wouldn’t have understood what the hell you were talking about. Here’s what I know now that I could not have articulated at the time: In order to enjoy and appreciate OOTB, it’s best to cast aside all cynicism just as you would if you were watching a Broadway musical. You’ve gotta give in to the spaced-out silliness to get maximum pleasure from it. Maybe that’s why this album spoke to us so hard as kids. Because our taste and desire existed at the most base level imaginable. All that mattered (and still matters) is how it made us feel!

From its big-chorused-drama to the out-of-this-world art on the gatefold sleeve to the fabled cardboard spaceship inside, OOTB was like some fabulous new toy to me, the best toy. “Chooka chooka, hoo la ley” muthafuckas.

MATTHEW: Ha! I like the irony of Altman’s accusation of hollowness, as hollow sums up his review: lazy, knee-jerk rockism empty of any insight beyond the risible complaint that there aren’t solos (which isn’t even true, but of course he wouldn’t have bothered to actually listen to the album). No heart? Out of the Blue is in fact nothing but heart. And the love that millions of fans have—and will have for generations to come—for its imaginative, playful, and infinitely melodic celebration of pop-rock is deeply heartfelt. Oh Mr. Blue, you did it right, indeed.

Favorite two tracks: Matthew: As this is a double, I’m picking “Concerto” and its four tracks: “Standin’ in the Rain,” “Big Wheels,” “Summer and Lightning,” and “Mr. Blue Sky.” Hope: Ok, four it is! “Starlight”, “Big Wheels”, “Turn to Stone”, and “Summer and Lightning,” …but I also love “Sweet Talkin’ Woman” . . . and “The Whale” . . . and “Jungle.”

P.S. Weirdy sidenote: In 1977, Jeff Lynne gifted Helen Reddy, one of the decade’s premier easy listening chanteuse-superstars, with a song he wrote called “Poor Little Fool”. It appeared on her 1978 album We’ll Sing in the Sunshine and sounds like an Out of the Blue deep cut. Yeah, it’s that good. I would have been 100% down for a Lynne-composed Reddy album. Hear here.

Album Rating: Hope, 10/10; Matthew, 10/10.


Discovery (1979)
(UK #1, US #5)

HOPE: ELO were disco in the way McCartney’s “Goodnight Tonight” was, or the Stones “Miss You”, which is to say they had some obvious disco flavoring but retained an inherent rockiness. Sure, Discovery’s lead single “Shine A Little Love” is sleek ‘n’ bouncy enough that one could have boogied to it on a lighted dance floor in 1979 but it is hardly “Don’t Leave Me This Way”. Still, nothing was as big an affront to the world of rock in the late ‘70s as the “demon” disco i.e. even the merest sniff of it was triggering. 

MATTHEW: Ha! Yes! The thing about Discovery being disco-very is that it isn’t. A couple of tracks lean into a beat and bass line that dates the album to the peak disco era—and they happened to be singles (like the irresistible “Last Train to London”). But the album’s dominant sound is imperial-phase ELO pop. Classic Lynne ballads like “Need Her Love,” quirky but catchy pop like “The Diary of Horace Wimp,” and smooth stompers like “Don’t Bring Me Down” could have sat just as comfortably on Out of the Blue. And even if the whole album had been packed with disco bangers like “Last Train,” so what? (I hate to be a hater, but I really hate disco hating.)

HOPE: Oh man, I love “Need Her Love” which I believe to be—hot take comin’—the swooniest, most-gorgeous slow jam in the whole ELO catalog. But then I also love “Last Train to London” (romantic late night luster)…and “The Diary of Horace Wimp” (“Mr.Blue Sky” for grown-ups)…and “Don’t Bring Me Down” (stomping, shout-along stormer)…and joyful pop bonbon “On the Run”. And can’t forget ,”Midnight Blue” (Queen at a drive-in movie in outer space in the year 3000)  or the positively Wings-era McCartney-esque ”Confusion”. Oh hell, ALL Discovery is pretty fuckin’ glorious. 

P.S.I hated the disco hating too. Absolutely freakin’ hated it. Joke’s on the haters though as I’m pretty sure when you get to heaven it’s just classic disco anthems and the Cocteau Twins playing over the Lord’s sound system exclusively, so some people are gonna be in for a surprise. 

MATTHEW: There better be disco in heaven! I want some Disco-very in my Shangri-la! And I can relate to your feelings for “Need Her Love.” It’s Lynne’s most straightforward love song (Delve rightly compares it to Macca’s “My Love”), written to Sandi, whom he’d marry later that year.

I still have the vinyl copy of Discovery I bought in ‘79 (aged 15) and really flogged; it’s well dinged up with affection. Yes, I loved it, and didn’t mind how inescapable it was that year, both in the UK (where I was in school) and in the US (where I was when school was out)—but especially in the UK, where it was their first #1, five of its nine tracks were Top Ten hits, and only Parallel Lines sold more copies in Britain that year. That said, I missed the epic scope of Out of the Blue. There’s not a duff track on Discovery (arguably not a duff note), but without the prog-pop sprawl of Blue (no instrumentals, no whole “symphony” side), it is almost too perfect. Love can be fickle, and in the end there are three ELO albums I love more. 

HOPE: There are three whole albums that you love more?! Three?! What the holy hell, how is this even possible?! I’m distressed and flabbergasted because Discovery is, by far, my most-listened to ELO album. Okay, I confess that part of the reason for this is that it soundtracked a particularly tormented chunk of my teenagedom. It didn’t save my life or anything but it definitely provided an inspirational escape hatch into fantasy land after a shit day at school. That’s part of why it’s embedded in my heart just a liiittle bit deeper than the rest. That said, I forgive you Matthew. You can let me have it on a future ELO album entry…which I know for a fact you will very shortly.

Favorite tracks: Hope: “Need Her Love”, “Last Train to London”; Matthew:“Last Train to London,” “Need Her Love” (although Juliana Hatfield’s cover of “Don’t Bring Me Down” on her fantastic new Sings ELO album has renewed my affection for the song). 

Album Rating: Hope, 9/10; Matthew, 9/10.


Xanadu (1980, movie soundtrack, with Olivia Newton-John)
(UK #2, US #4)

MATTHEW: The conventional wisdom on Xanadu is that, after the disco-very singles from Discovery nudged ELO from being respectable pop-rockers to borderline un-cool, Xanadu tipped them over the edge.  Why? Because the movie was total rubbish, and the album’s first half featured the extremely popular pop-tastic but thereby very un-cool Olivia Newton-John; if that wasn’t enough, one of the album’s smash hits, “Suddenly,” was a duet with Cliff Richard, who was for many decades spectacularly un-cool in the UK.  I realize the late ON-J is revered now (and since her passing in 2022 I have been enjoying her back catalog, most of which I had long ignored), and perhaps Sir Cliff is nowadays a well-respected octogenarian (I honestly don’t know).  But in 1980, their association with them did indeed throw ELO into naff or un-cool pop territory, one where they might sell many records but be subject to scathing abuse from the music press.  Not that Lynne and company much cared.  Xanadu was a big US/UK hit, and #1 all over the world—with “All Over the World” the title of one of the six hit singles from the album, four of them by ELO (counting the Lynne-written, Olivia-sung title track).

HOPE: While it’s hardly The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Xanadu is, at this point, a firmly established  cult classic (whether we like it or not). Thanks to the film’s garish silliness and ON-J’s evolutionary shift from from fluffy, family-friendly pop singer/actor to iconic hot-sweetheart-diva status, it has become a beloved midnight movie for those camp-loving romanticists among us (Yeah, I’m in there). Sure, watching it is akin to a bout of low-grade nausea after eating too much cotton candy/candy floss and washing it down a gallon of Pepsi…but there are two undeniables that will forever redeem it:

1.Olivia is (totally) hot. 

2.The film’s frothy neon soundtrack features two ELO songs that are even hotter.


Jeff and Olivia. We are in Xanadu.

MATTHEW: Confession: I am always annoyed when an artist dilutes an album with tracks that don’t belong there. Some are soundtracks like this (or like Saturday Night Fever), some are studio/live pairings (like Tears for Fears’ 2024 release). I know, my irritation is nonsensical. There are reasons why such albums end up that way. But every time I convince myself to get over it, I encounter a song like “Dancin’”—not only the disastrous low-point on Xanadu, but the most grisly train wreck of a song on any ON-J or ELO album (although ELO had nothing to do with it). Aaargh!

HOPE: That’s brutal…but it’s freakin’ true! As you alluded to up there, Xanadu is divided into two distinct sides (Side One being all Olivia and Side Two, all ELO) with the two coming together for the title track on the latter. Before we get to ELO, I need to acknowledge that there are two beyond redeemable ON-J tracks present on this Xanadu thing: The twisty-turny mega-hit charmer “Magic” and the aforementioned duet with Sir Cliff, “Suddenly” which is still as gorgeous ‘n’ besotted as the day it was born (Love this song. LOVE). The rest aren’t worth talking about (Don’t let the door hit you “Dancin’ “). As for the ELO side, “All Over the World” and “I’m Alive” may be the most lighthearted, let’s call ‘em, pop-timistic songs the band ever released. Back in ‘80, as a nerdy young teen, I was particularly receptive to this sugary-majestic style of ELO-ing and confess that the 7”s aka “45’s” for those two babes spent far more time on my turntable than the soundtrack album ever did. The two other ELO tunes present,“The Fall” and “Don’t Walk Away”, while perfectly fine, wither in melodic, singalong sunshine emitted by “All Over” and “I’m Alive”. 

Favorite two tracks: Matthew, “All Over the World,” “Don’t Walk Away”; Hope, “All Over the World,” “I’m Alive”

Album Rating: Hope, 5/10; Matthew, 6/10.


Time (1981)
(UK #1, US #16)

MATTHEW: “Ticket to the Moon” was the gateway drug that had me hooked on Time. I loved how that single starts like a play on Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata,” but avoided being pretentious, staying grounded (as it were) as a perfect little pop song about the corniest of pop topics—heartache. And the twist at the end, that his ticket is “just one way,” sung with commitment by Lynne, is both poignant and cheesy. Its pairing with “Here is the News” as a double A-side in the UK was ideal for me as a teenage ELO fan: the musical and lyrical cross-references of the two songs fascinated me, drawing me into the album’s concept theme (was it just about space and time travel, or …?). (The pairing also cut each song’s radio airplay in half, perhaps the reason why the single peaked at only #24.)

The album’s concept isn’t as coherent as it could be. “Rain is Falling” is very ELO, and matches the heartache theme, but not the theme of space (rain in space?!). “Hold on Tight” sounds like the add-on single that it was, unless we want to be really generous and argue that it reveals the whole space/time memory to be a dream (“hold on tight to your dream”). Years after Time came out, it occurred to me that it was in fact a concept album about being on the road. Lynne had said that while touring incessantly in the late-1970s, he’d been craving a break to enjoy domesticity and work on an album that sounded different. Time certainly is that, more synthesizer-based than orchestral, billed simply as ELO (not Electric Light Orchestra). So, I figured Lynne imagined the loneliness of future space travel as a metaphor for life on the road. Does that make sense? Perhaps, if we take it as just one way of hearing the album.

HOPE: Despite multiple attempts at connecting,Time and me have never completely clicked. Your genuinely feasible take, that Time is a famous rock star’s metaphorical story about how tired he is of traveling the world and his wanting to “enjoy domesticity” doesn’t endear it. That is a far less romantic and compelling notion to me than the idea of the album being “about” the loneliness of a machinated future. And the latter notion was the primary thing that motivated me to keep trying with Time. But no matter how many times I’ve played it, I’ve never been able to get into it in any meaningful way, which truly disappoints me! I like a few specific songs and that’s as far as it goes. Gorgeous nostalgic yearner “Ticket To The Moon” is more than deserving of a spot in the hypothetical ELO Top 25 Tunes of All-Time list (“Remember the good ol’ 1980’s, when things were so uncomplicated”. True. Who knew? Jeff did). “When Time Stood Still”—the non-LP B-Side of the album’s first (heinous) single “Hold On Tight” as well as a bonus track on 2001 Time reissue— is also a pretty thing, sitting there being all mournful, Beatlesque and lush. 

MATTHEW: Yes, that “remember the good ol’ 1980s” seemed in the 1980s like one of the best opening lines to any single ever. I still love it, and the whole album, with all its weirdness and little bleeps to remind us of the concept and its contradictions and endless hooks and imaginative musical references—from Beethoven to Beatles, reggae to rockabilly tucked into synth-pop, and even earlier ELO albums. It always seemed like the true sequel to Out of the Blue. It isn’t just a collection of songs (like Discovery) or half an album unwisely attached to a crap movie (Xanadu), but a loosely-conceived concept-album exploration of those classic ELO metaphors of rain/sad and space/lonely. And if “Hold on Tight” threatens to crash land the spaceship’s Side Two, its Side One rivals A New World Record’s first side as the best in the catalog.

HOPE: Wow, can I tell you, that just hearing you say that instantly inspired me to relisten to Side One again (hmmm)…and okay, as a gang of songs holding hands with each other, it’s at least interesting. But, but, apart from “Ticket”, none of the songs hold up as singular entities and that’s a bigger priority for me. And here’s where things get murkier. One of my favorite YouTube activities is listening to the “Slowed and Reverb” versions of favorite old songs (which involves a creative soul manipulating the speed and sonics of existing songs). It can quite literally make an old fave sound new (no, really). Here’s where I ruefully admit that the unsanctioned, unofficial, slowed-reverbin’ version of “Rain Is Falling” is my favorite version of the song (hear here). And, and, I also weirdly prefer the slowed version of the handsomely-boned “Twilight” which sounds positively immense compared to the original (hear here). These goofy remixes aren’t criticisms of Lynne’s original recordings, they are just peculiar little love letters…and for some reason they sound better to me. I know, it’s weird.

Okay, time to talk about Time’s most unwelcome occupant: ‘50s rock meets outer space cheeseball “Hold On Tight”. It is arguably the worst ELO single ever (it sounds like “Love Missile F1-11” by Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s Grandfather and not in a good way because there isn’t one). Yet, as mentioned earlier, its non-LP B-Side, the swoony-tuned “When Time Stood Still”, with its lonely apocalyptic inner visions, is freakin’ gorgeous. It’s a damn shame it didn’t end up on the original album. Also wanna offer a tip of the hat to Lynne’s cute melodic nod to Out of the Blue’s “Across the Border” in “The Way Life’s Meant To Be”. Very cute.

I’ve often thought Time the album could’ve been turned into a pretty cool animated midnight movie in the style of the goofy sci-fi with an FM radio-heartbeat, Heavy Metal (1981). With visual accompaniment, I feel like the songs would’ve hit a lot harder.

While I think Time is flawed, I also find it somewhat fascinating. Who knows, I may well succumb to it in time (yeah, I just did that and I’m sorry).

MATTHEW: Yes you did! You also suggested that the album would sound better slowed down or attached to a goofy sci-fi B-movie. Which is all pretty funny. Some fans might object to such sacrilege, but I don’t think albums are holy objects to be revered untouched. Time embedded itself in my 17-year-old brain, and I love it—need it, even—exactly as it is. But Xanadu delivered to us on a silver platter a license to re-imagine ELO albums, and the two that followed Time positively begged to be re-imagined. So why not? And you’re right that those slowed-down mixes are love letters (and worth a listen)!

Favorite tracks: Hope, “Ticket to the Moon,” “When Time Stood Still” (yeah, I know I’m cheating slightly); Matthew, “Ticket to the Moon,” “Here is the News.”

Album Rating: Hope, 6/10; Matthew, 10/10.


Secret Messages (1983)
(UK #4, US #36)

MATTHEW: During those amazing years in popular music culture from roughly 1977 to 1983, I was too much of a sponge to care much about what was cool and uncool.  After all, I stuck with ELO through their three 1979-81 albums, even as their cool stock steadily fell—passionately defending Time to school friends who worshiped the likes of Echo and the Bunnymen.  But I never tried to convince anyone that Secret Messages was yet another manifestation of Lynne’s genius.  I couldn’t even convince myself.  That didn’t stop me playing  it—I still have my well-worn Indonesian bootleg cassette copy, titled Secret Massages (I kid you not!)—but I restricted it to, ahem, secret listening.  And I’m pretty sure I only played Side One (the title track through “Take Me On and On”), as it remains very familiar, and Side Two is far less familiar (and, to be honest, pretty patchy—although I think “Letter from Spain” is a forgotten ELO gem).  That was then, however.  Now . . . 

HOPE: Secret Massages. Hot…but I digress. You were clearly more musically mature than me in 1983. I was in full Duran-Culture Club-Wham worship mode when Secret Messages was first released. Maintaining steadfast loyalty to an old rock band vs. pretties like Simon Lebon, Boy George and George Michael doing basically anything, well, at that point in my teen life, it was no competition:  I wanted the boys and Boy. My dislike of the irritatingly bouncy synthetic sound of Secret Messages first single, ‘50s tribute “Rock and Roll Is King” and its outdated sentiment sealed the deal. All of which is to say, I waited months before I bothered buying the album, which I only did out of pure, albeit belated, loyalty. And I ended up feeling seriously disappointed. The original ten-track vinyl version was home to (only) three keepers: Dreamy, shimmery wanderer “Stranger”, romantic spacey soul sweetheart “Take Me On and On” and the propulsive oh-so-eighties pop radio-friendly title track. The rest remains forgettable, though I’ll give an honorable mention to “Letter From Spain” which, as you noted, is an unassuming li’l gem.

Secret Messages has been reissued twice: In 2001 w/bonus tracks and in 2018 as a four-sided double LP with several songs that had been edited off the original version of the LP. In regards to the latter, Lynne had wanted Secret Messages to be issued as a double album but was vetoed by the record company CBS who released it as a single LP with fewer songs. I can’t believe I’m saying this but CBS were right i.e. none of the songs edited off the original LP were thrilling.

MATTHEW: Yes, CBS rejected the double album as a way to fulfill the contract (which called for two more albums), obliging Lynne to cut half an hour and eight songs (seven for the CD and cassette releases). We had to wait until 2001 for a 14-track version, and 2018 for the original 18-track double album. If I had to make a single album from those 18 songs, I’d have made slightly different selections and sequencing. I suppose all fans would have made (or did eventually make) their own version. In the end, I think the double works better. It’s not a great album either way, but it’s very good as a well-paced four-sider, the vinyl sounding excellent. (And to me it’ll always be Secret Massages.)

HOPE: Before we move on, we should offer a quick hello to Secret Message’s fabled “lost” track which has yet to be released officially, “Beatles Forever”. It is both heartfelt and supremely silly. Listen here, and feel free to smile at its cuteness, yeah-yeah-yeah.

MATTHEW: Yes, it’s cute and goofy, almost child-like, and I understand why Lynne felt it should be kept off all versions of the album. But here’s a thought: Secret Messages was enough of a commercial and critical come-down from Time, and ELO so un-cool by this point, that there would have been little to lose by releasing “Beatles Forever” as a single; and I bet it would have been a hit!

Favorite two tracks: Matthew, “Bluebird,” “Letter from Spain” (tied with “Take Me On and On”); Hope, “Stranger”, “Take Me On and On”

Album Rating: Matthew, 6/10 (1983 single album), 7/10 (2018 double); Hope, 4/10 (1983 single album, 4/10 (2018 double)

Matthew’s treasured ‘Secret Massage’ cassette. That’s a luscious title, but “Four Little Diamonds” being altered to “For Little Diamonds” is even better.

Balance Of Power (1986)
(UK #9, US #49)

HOPE: Turns out sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. The sleeve for Balance of Power is some kinda bullshit…and its musical contents aren’t much better. It oozes “legacy artist trying to sound modern in 1986” from its every pore. ELO had slimmed down to a trio consisting of Lynne, keyboard maestro Richard Tandy and drummer Bev Bevan by this point and the waning of passion for doing the ELO thing feels palpable.

MATTHEW: Some kinda bullshit is sadly right! As an ELO album, this just, well, isn’t. It is very much a 1986 pop album, and good as such, and not very ELO. And that means it fares very poorly in a ranking of the whole catalog, giving the band’s bell curve of success something of the shape of a roller-coaster segment: a slow climb through five albums, a high peak of four or five albums, then a downward curve that is gentle for one album, then a precipitous drop for this album (with the riders screaming “Jeff, nooooooo!!”).

HOPE: Spot on. The album’s twee, synthetic production is a killer, but the real problem is the supremely faceless and unmemorable quality of the songs themselves. BOP (let’s just call it, though it is by no means overflowing with “bops”) sounds like a cheap plastic version of ELO. As far as picking standout songs well…I kind of like busy, synth-dance, tres-eighties “Heaven Only Knows” which sits somewhere between Wang Chung and a Kenny Loggins-style soundtrack tune, thus is fun to me (Love that chorus line, “I’m really on the level”). Also nice is bombastic big boy “Getting to the Point” which bears a striking resemblance to an old school ELO song from a structural standpoint automatically qualifying it as a standout track on BOP. “Secret Lives” is sorta infectious too and not a million miles from the kind of thing the Bee Gees were doing in the latter half of the ‘80s. 

MATTHEW: I rather like “Getting to the Point,” with its pop lushness and sax solo. The sax returns elsewhere, rather nicely on “Sorrow About to Fall,” for example. But wait, sax solos on an ELO album? And as one of the better touches? Gulp. Lynne is such a masterful producer by this point that he could create something that sounds this professional and polished in his sleep. But that’s the problem. The 35-minute BOP feels too professional and insufficiently personal. That the lyrical and musical hallmarks of imperial-phase ELO occasionally peep through the slick facade of cringey mid-80s production (twee and synthetic is right, Hope!) only reminds us that this is a contractual obligation album—and we have no obligation to like it. 

HOPE: Insert sexy ‘80s-style sax solo here…

Favorite two tracks: Hope, “Heaven Only Knows”, “Getting to the Point”; Matthew, “Getting to the Point,” and “Sorrow About to Fall.”

Album Rating: Hope, 3/10; Matthew, 4/10.


Armchair Theatre (1990, as Jeff Lynne)
(UK #24, US #83)

MATTHEW: Is it unfair to include this (and Long Wave)? After all, the weakness of Armchair Theatre is that it lacks the thematic and musical coherence of most ELO albums, yet “ELO” appears nowhere on the cover. This isn’t trying to be anything other than what it is: part ELO (more anticipating Jeff Lynne’s ELO than the band’s back catalogue); part Lynne’s childhood songbook (see Long Wave); part Traveling Wilburys (but, to my tastes, much better; Wilburys, ugh). So, up against the ELO catalogue, this first solo album of Jeff’s falters. But taken on its own terms, there’s much to appreciate here.

HOPE: I love the ocean, the sound of wind blowing through the trees and baby animals. I’m only stating this to assure you I am not a monster which many folks will likely think after I say what I’m about to say: I absolutely detest the music of the Travelling Wilburys. I realize they are a foundational stone in the mountain of Dad Rock and fat with legendary members but their smug, cartoonish shuffles make me feel insane. 

MATTHEW: I think you are being generous to the TW, actually. I never got them. They always seemed like such an incredible array of talent adding up to so much less than the sum of those legendary parts. In fact, I could never shake the notion that the whole TW was a parody, a joke at our expense, a bunch of rockstars having a bit of a laugh. Sorry, you TW’ers!

Armchair Theatre is far superior. Ironically, I overlooked it for years because I unfairly judged it to be a TW side-project with a few odd covers thrown in to bring it over half an hour. Yes, it lacks the musical coherence of the best ELO albums. And its finest tracks work better on mixtapes or playlists, from singles like “Lift Me Up” to surprises like “Now You’re Gone”—a hidden gem whose Middle Eastern touches are pure production genius. But by skipping the three covers, the eight Lynne originals (including the pretty good “Blown Away,” co-written with Tom Petty, and the Petty-ish “What Would It Take”) comprise a really good 27-minute album. As a bit of ELO-nerd fun, I made a hybrid album mixing those eight originals from Armchair Theatre with the best few from Balance of Power (call it Armchair Power). Fun, yes, but in the end merely confirming that Armchair Theatre is a better Lynne and ELO album than Balance of Power.

HOPE: After reading your paragraph above, I went and assembled a hybrid album to see if it would work. I titled it Power Balance and plugged in the best five tracks from Armchair and best four from BOP…and what the holy hell, once the chaff was edited off and the good songs were merged into one actual album I genuinely liked it. Prior to doing that, I had been completely freakin’ indifferent to Armchair. Now I’m kind of charmed by it (or at least half of it).

Armchair occupies the same soundscape as George Harrison’s 1987 comeback album Cloud Nine and/or Tom Petty’s 1989 debut solo album Full Moon Fever, both of which Jeff produced, wrote and played on. In terms of listenability I would place it in the middle, better than the former (which I don’t like), lesser than the latter (which I do). The simultaneously shiny and laid back ”What Would It Take” and head-bobbing, blissful bop “Lift Me Up” are peak “L’eighties-Lynne”. And gotta give a dual nod of approval to “Blown Away” and “Now You’re Gone” which proved Jeff hadn’t ventured too far from the ELO Mothership after all.

Favorite two tracks: Hope,”What Would It Take”, “Lift Me Up”; Matthew, “Lift Me Up” and “Now You’re Gone”.

Album Rating: Hope, 5/10; Matthew, 6/10.


Zoom (2001)
(UK #34, US #94)

HOPE: Zoom touches upon nearly all eras in ELO history. There’s early ‘70s era style rock (“All She Wanted”, “Alright”, “Easy Money”, “Lonesome Lullaby”, “Stranger On A Quiet Street”). There’s ‘80s-ish ELO (“It Really Doesn’t Matter”, “Melting In The Sun”, “State Of Mind”). There are even a few tracks reminiscent of peak ELO aka 1975-79 aka the Imperial Years (“Just For Love”, “A Long Time Gone”, “Ordinary Dream”). Despite all this, there is something significant missing from Zoom: The magically melodic hook-iness of the past.

Sure, “Just For Love” and “A Long Time Gone” with their noticeably similar choruses are low-key lovely, but the rest of the tunes are kind of predictable in terms of which way they’re gonna turn at any given moment. So while Zoom did provide a refreshing reassurance that Jeff still kinda had it, the album as a whole was not remotely dreamy, swoony or hooky enough to be able to stand with the ELO album gods of the past. I don’t know though, is that even a fair comparison/assessment? Should Zoom be graded on a curve the same way latter 2000s era McCartney or Springsteen albums are, where several points are awarded because they are still creating new material and the songs for the most part are structurally sound?

MATTHEW: No grading on a curve! Life’s too short to give artists a pass for being older, when there are so many great albums to enjoy (including by those same older artists). But Zoom is still tricky to evaluate: is it Lynne or ELO or Lynne’s ELO? The album is somewhat stranded in time, with 15 years after the last album billed as by ELO, and 14 years before the next one. And if we count Lynne’s solo albums, it’s still 11 years on either side. It also has a reputation for being a disappointment at the time—with lower sales than expected, its North American support tour canceled due to poor advance ticket sales. Furthermore, billed as Electric Light Orchestra (not Jeff Lynne’s ELO), it has only one other ELO member on just one track (Richard Tandy on “Alright”), with two ex-Beatles featuring on four tracks. In fact, it sounds more like a latter-day Beatles album than an ELO one, and that feel is far from limited to the four tracks on which George Harrison or Ringo Starr play. Confused? I admit I was a little, when I first heard it in 2001. But I soon realized that if taken as a new Lynne solo album, Zoom is excellent, the best Lynne or ELO album since Secret Messages—perhaps since Time over two decades earlier. I have way more affection for Zoom than you do, Hope, but based on its impact at the time of its release, you’re on the money and I’m a weirdo.

Favorite two tracks: Hope, “Just For Love”, “A Long Time Gone”; Matthew, “Alright” and “Just For Love.”

Album Rating: Hope, 4/10; Matthew, 8/10.


Long Wave (2012, as Jeff Lynne)
(UK #7, US #113)

HOPE: I see what you did here Jeff Lynne. You not only started the album with a couple of quirky and genuinely endearing cover picks, you seductively slathered them in that old sweet ELO sauce we know and love. Hearing the album’s first two tracks—Charles Aznavour’s ”She” and Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “If I Loved You”—stunningly reshaped into vintage ELO-flavored balladry, gave me hope.

Unfortunately, it turned out to be the false kind. Those two retro dreamboats turned out to be the best things on the LP (by far). Enjoying Long Wave as a whole depends on one’s unfaltering loyalty to Lynne and tolerance for hearing hoary old chestnuts like “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered”, “At Last”, “Love is a Many-Splendored Thing” and “Beyond The Sea” being trotted out for roughly the billionth time in recorded history. While not as aurally challenging as McCartney’s similarly nostalgic cover 2012 LP, Kisses On The Bottom (UGH), it ain’t much better. 

MATTHEW: I agree that Long Wave is more palatable than Macca’s Kisses (beginning with their titles). It has a certain charm, especially if you have affection for old standards and you’re a die-hard Jeff fan; the rich timbre of his voice is nicely showcased here. But as you say, Hope, you really need to be both those things to enjoy this all the way to the end. Sure, it starts strong (“She” always reminds me of Elvis Costello’s cover for the Notting Hill soundtrack; I like Lynne’s version better). But the returns are diminishing from then on. It’s only 27” but feels longer, partly because the little moments that remind me of ELO songs—the way Lynne curls around a phrase, or his use of a favored production trick—only make me wish I was listening to those ELO songs.

It’s probably not really fair of us to include Long Wave. It deserves appreciation on its own terms, not up against the ELO catalogue. But Armchair Theatre sounds more like ELO than Balance of Power, and Lynne has made himself so synonymous with the band that he gives us no choice. Blame Jeff!

Favorite two tracks: Hope, “If I Loved You”, “She”; Matthew, “She,” “If I Loved You.”

Album Rating: Hope, 3/10; Matthew, 4/10.


Alone In The Universe (2015, as Jeff Lynne’s ELO)
(UK #4, US #23)

MATTHEW: As hyperbolic as this might seem, I find it incredibly life-affirming that more than thirty years after ELO’s imperial phase petered out, Lynne created an album this bloody good. None of it is filler, most of it is great. For me, it’s one of the five best records in the whole ELO/Lynne catalog. If you substitute Side One’s “Dirty to the Bone” with one of Side Two’s gems (like “One Step at a Time”, which sounds like a lost early 80s hit single), then Side One is a serious contender for the best Side One in the catalog. And although Lynne left concept-album thinking back in the early 80s, there is something of a conceptual coherence to these ten songs and their 33 minutes of 8-bar blues-based melancholic pop nuggets. Masterful!

HOPE: I love a nice “Majestic Loner” song where the protagonist ponders their otherness and romanticizes their perpetual view from the outside. Sad yet hopeful. AITU (let’s just call it) offers a beauteous pair of “Majestic Loner” tunes for the misty-eyed unicorns among us: The glistening hymnal sway “The Sun Will Shine On You” and ”Alone in the Universe”, an epic throwback with a bit of “Can’t Get It Out of My Head” running through its yearn-ful veins. Other standouts include nostalgic origin story “When I Was a Boy” and late ‘70s-flavored groover “One Step at a Time”. The album is solid and consistent overall (and yes, it feels like there is a subtle thread connecting the songs). But here is where we part Matthew…melodically AITU falls short for me (why does this keep happening?!). Apart from “The Sun…” and “Alone…” none of the songs move the needle on the swoon scale. Also, a big f-u to that disgracefully cheap-looking font on the front cover. 

Favorite two tracks: Hope, “The Sun Will Shine on You”, ”Alone in the Universe”; Matthew, “When I Was a Boy” is the perfect opener to an ELO/Lynne mixtape, and “The Sun Will Shine on You” is lovely enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Album Rating: Hope, 5/10; Matthew, 9/10.


From Out Of Nowhere (2019, as Jeff Lynne’s ELO)
(UK #1, US #47)

MATTHEW: When From Out of Nowhere came out in 2019, Classic Pop editor Steve Harnell reviewed the album.  He lightly praised a few tracks, noting that “’All My Love’ is undeniably pretty” (which it is) and that “Losing You” has “George Harrison-esque grace” (which it does).  But he emphasized that Lynne was “in familiar territory,” the album was “unapologetically set in its ways,” and he set his 3-star review between reviews of a new Ringo Starr album (3 ½) and a posthumous Leonard Cohen release (4 stars). So, a so-so predictable throw-back record from an old guy? Fair enough? Or an unfair dismissal of an album almost as good as its predecessor?

HOPE: The fact that this got to #1 in the UK album chart seems like it had nothing to do with the album’s actual merits. Its success felt more like a sweet acknowledgement of all the pop perfection Jeff Lynne had served up over the previous years as opposed to the appeal of the LP’s actual contents. So I think Harnell was spot on and maybe even a little kind. Describing the album as “unapologetically set in its ways” is just a gentler way of saying that it’s boring. And he’s not wrong. There’s a real sonic sameness to the songs on From Out of Nowhere and nothing truly stands out. It’s ELO wallpaper. As far as praise, the best I can offer is that the closing track, moodily romantic “Songbird” is kind of pleasant and the LP as a whole is accomplished. Remember when you forbade me to grade on a curve a few albums ago? I’m taking it to heart.

MATTHEW: ELO wallpaper? Ouch! Well, I think that’s definitely true of Side Two—with the exception of album closer “Songbird.” Having this on vinyl, and mostly only playing Side One, has skewed this album upwards in my rankings. That’s 6 of 10 tracks that are hooky and melodic and worthy of playlist spots; 4 that are, well, ok, wallpaper! But I suspect that more listeners would agree with you, Hope, than with me. You are able to be fairly objective, whereas I have such a positive and primal response to Lynne’s voice, words, and studio sound that I cannot help but be happy upon hearing them.

HOPE: Though it may be hard to tell from these last few album blurbs, I really do fuckin’ love ELO.

Favorite two tracks: Matthew, “Down Came the Rain” (Lynne’s signature metaphor!), and “Losing You” (showing he still has his ballad-writing chops); Hope, “Songbird” (but I only like as a friend, not as a love interest)

Album Rating: Hope, 4/10; Matthew, 7/10.


Box Sets & Compilations

MATTHEW: There are a crazy number of compilations out there—18 by my count, and I probably missed a couple. I seem to have picked up a third of them or more over the years, in one format or another. The ‘70s ones are historic curiosities, whereas the more recent ones tend to be too short and predictable. But four are worth a mention.

All Over the World: The Very Best of Electric Light Orchestra (2005 and 2011) had sold over a million copies in the UK by 2016, when a rare reunion appearance of the band (at that year’s Glastonbury Festival) nudged the compilation album to #1. Alone, it is yet another predictable CD of hits. But paired with Ticket to the Moon: The Very Best of Electric Light Orchestra, Volume 2 (2007), it becomes a more interesting and representative survey of the catalog. Still, both volumes ignore the first two ELO albums (and, of course, the two most recent ones, which had yet to be created). Sorely needed is a 4-CD update (like the Genesis one you don’t like, Hope!), that covers 1971 to 2019, with all the singles plus more of the rarities and oddities that are lightly represented on The Very Best of Electric Light Orchestra, Volume 2. Any chance, Mr. Lynne, sir?

HOPE: I agree that as a duo, these Very Best’s are alright. Honestly, it’s hard to talk about compilations with any passion (except maybe ABBA Gold). While not completely redundant, they are the aural equivalent of a travel umbrella i.e. Cool to have as you never know when you might need them and useful in specific situations, like a car journey (I see you Matthew!). They are not necessarily the first choice/favored song assortment for a nerdy fan (a specific studio album or self-curated playlist being the preferred choices). That mouthful said, these two comps serve as a safe and welcoming ELO kiddie pool for new and future ELO fans to get them acclimated. 

MATTHEW: I’m counting the two Very Best of compilations as one, with my second pick being 2012’s Mr. Blue Sky. This hits mix is also a different kind of animal. What do you think of it, Hope?

HOPE: I don’t like it, but it’s for a somewhat altruistic (!) reason which I’ll get to.  Mr. Blue Sky features re-recorded versions of ELO classics. In a 2012 interview with music radar Jeff was asked why he felt the need to re-record already “perfect” and beloved songs from his catalog: 

Over the years, I’ve played some of the albums from time to time, and I would go, ‘Hmm… I don’t know.’ And then I’d hear some of the songs on the radio and I’d say, ‘That doesn’t sound like I thought it did.’ So I thought, Maybe I should have another go at these…to see if I could do it again. I mean, I have a studio – why not have a go at it?’ 

The new versions of old established tunes on Mr. Blue Sky don’t sound better, they just sound different…or to those more familiar and worshipful of the original versions, they sound weird. The vocals are prominently pushed up front in a way that wipes clean the smoky-dreaminess that made “Telephone Line” and “Strange Magic” so beautiful the first time. In fact, there is a distractingly, sharp-edged clarity to Jeff’s voice on every song, like the original versions were dirty windows and this what they sound like wiped clean. 

My main issue is this: I don’t like that these new versions might be someone’s first experience of hearing ELO and that these re-records might be mistaken for the originals. So I need to know, Matthew,  what do you think ?! And do you believe presenting it as a standard “Best of” is misleading?


Here is a pic I took back in my record store days in ye olde 2014. I noticed this young lad walking around with a Mr.Blue Sky LP, got excited and asked his Dad if I could take a pic. I hope he loved the album enough to dig into the catalog and ultimately leave the re-recorded versions behind. But it’s okay if he didn’t.

MATTHEW: Yes, Hope, spot on: I agree that the billing of Mr. Blue Sky is misleading. It is as if Jeff is trying to lead us away from the originals because these new recordings are improved replacements. They’re not. They are enjoyable and worth a listen, but they are curiosities for fans, not a good entry point for newcomers. I think of them as “Jeff’s Versions” (a la branding of the Taylor Swift rerecordings).

A far better entry-point for new fans—which also serves as a must-have compilation for die-hard fans—is the third of the many compilations mentioned here, 2000’s Flashback. Do you agree, Hope?

HOPE: Yes! The three CDs of Flashback feature songs from every ELO studio album released up to that point, providing a fine overview as far as singles and deep cuts. Sure Xanadu’s representation is limited to a re-recorded version of the title track and neither “All Over the World” and “I’m Alive” are included (ouch)…but all the other key stuff is here. As far as the ten requisite rarities and curios included, only 1980’s windswept locomotive “Love Changes All” and 1982’s sweetly spacy instrumental b-side “After All” are real keepers. That said I wish there had been a bigger selection of rare and unreleased cuts!

MATTHEW: Absolutely. And the copyright issues keeping Xanadu out of these compilations is annoying. Hey Jeff, if you are going to re-record old songs, re-record all your Xanadu tracks for inclusion in compilations! The issue also impacts The Classic Albums Collection (2011), the final comp worth a mention. This CD box set collected all eleven ELO albums from No Answer through Balance of Power (Xanadu excluded), in card sleeves in a cardboard box. This was Lynne’s project, so the remastering was supervised by him, and the 27-page booklet has new liner notes by him, with a comment on every track (albeit some of them only a few words). There are between two and four bonus tracks on every disc—most of them previously unreleased demos or alternate takes or unused tracks. The extras are curiosities of interest to serious fans only. I appreciate having them, but I rather wish they were collected on a couple of extra discs, so I could enjoy each album as it was originally released. The culture of—and market for—“deluxe editions” has developed so much since 2011 that I would imagine a 2020s version of this would have a disc of extras for every album; or is that wishful thinking on my part?! As far as we know, this has yet to be released on vinyl, so perhaps a vinyl issue would by necessity put the extras on separate discs.

HOPE: Yes on that thought! Tacking demos, rarities and my most hated bonus bit, snippets, onto the end of physical albums wrecks the flow, especially if you have nostalgic bonds to the original versions.


Live Albums

MATTHEW: There are apparently seven live ELO albums. I say apparently, as I’ve spent many decades as an ELO fan blithely unaware of the first six (1974 to 2013). I’d question my own fandom, but I see that none of them charted anywhere. And most weren’t even released in most countries. A 1974 live recording, The Night the Light Went On In Long Beach, has a complex and elusive release history, but may be worth the hunt for fans of the early albums (the 6-minute “Day Tripper” cover slips in snippets of Mozart and Handel!). The seventh live album, however, 2017’s Wembley or Bust, is one I’ve seen (the concert film) and played (the CD), and it is thoroughly enjoyable. Lynne and Tandy recruited a superb band. Lynne applied his famously meticulous production skills to reproducing ELO’s complex sound to perfection (almost to a fault?). And (in the film version) the shots of an enraptured audience complete the emotional experience, making this a must-have for any ELO fan. Lynne was so happy with the Wembley Stadium concert that he wrote a song about it: the uncomfortably cheesy yet charming “Time of Our Life” is on From Out of Nowhere.

HOPE: I too had no idea there were so many ELO live albums. The Night the Light Went On In Long Beach was recorded live before they really hit their stride song-wise and feels more like a collectible curiosity than a definitive document. As it was common in the seventies for established rock artists to release fat double live albums in between studio releases, it’s disappointing that nothing more substantial surfaced during that decade. I can see it now, under the fantasy 1978 Xmas tree, an ELO triple live album with a fold-out sleeve, stickers and a giant poster (two-sided of course). It would no doubt have been a sentimental fave for all of us! But because this specific thing didn’t happen, I’m indifferent about ELO’s live albums (P.S. I officially acknowledge how weird this is).

MATTHEW: Ha! Fair enough! So how about this: the concert video is worth a watch for those who like the format, but for listening-only skip Wembley and hit the studio classics? And perhaps that’s just as well, as Lynne has said he’ll no longer tour after 2025. But he’ll surely make another album, or three, perhaps continuing to revisit the catalog. And what a catalog of wonders it is!

HOPE’s Postscript: I finally watched Wembley or Bust in its entirety after only having seen a few singular songs from it. The performances were quite nice but the thing that really pierced my heart was seeing the audience’s beatific faces and their reactions to the songs. The joy was so palpable, it made my eyes well up. Wembley or Bust is well worth watching. Eating my hat right now (or at least part of it).


I bow to the palpable joy of “Evil Woman” live at Wembley.

In Conclusion

This pic once graced the wall of my childhood bedroom. Even now I find Lynne to be weirdly era-appropriate foxy in it.

HOPE: What’s the first thing that pops into your head when you think about ELO? The deranged bridge in “Turn to Stone”? The pointedly precise string plucking in “Livin’ Thing”? Your teardrops hitting the floor whenever “Telephone Line” plays? That’s a trick question of course. It’s never just one thing. If you love even one ELO song, you are very likely to love another…and another. They really are a bag of candy. But seriously, ELO contained multitudes. They could be regal and symphonic. Starry-eyed and romantic. Lonely. Silly. Brazenly bombastic. They were occasionally all of those things at once (lookin’ at you Mr. “The Diary of Horace Wimp”). 

“Mr. Blue Sky” has been streamed over a billion freakin’ times. A billion. Not bad for a bearded Beatle worshiper from Birmingham, who was once described in an old review as “passionless” and “self-indulgent”.

All I know is that if I were ever to start a themed-cover band, ELO are unquestionably the band I would pay tribute to (We’d be called H.E.L.O. aka Hellectric Light Orchestra). There’s something genuinely magical about these crazy songs.

MATTHEW: Here’s a strange thing: there aren’t that many covers of ELO songs out there, not compared to other artists with similarly deep and popular catalogs. Perhaps that is because Lynne’s attention to every aspect of the creative process—writing the music and lyrics, singing and playing many (sometimes most) of the instruments, doing most (if not all) of the production—makes these songs utterly and holistically his. That helps hold the catalogue together, the 17 albums spread over 48 years, despite the stylistic contrast between No Answer and From Out of Nowhere. And it encourages fandom, as songs from any of those albums evoke songs from others. For example, for me personally, Lynne’s use of weather, especially rain, as a metaphor for love’s heartache, works as a comforting thread or leitmotif running through the catalog. It may be simple, but it is like an old friend. “Love and Rain” is at the end of my list of favorite ELO songs (see below) because it always makes me smile for that reason; it reminds me of all Jeff’s love and rain songs (and there’s love or rain or both on every album), and how grateful I am for the joy they have given—to me and to millions.

But that’s not quite all. For there is one cover album of ELO songs, and it is superb: Juliana Hatfield Sings ELO (2023). Hatfield’s latest contribution to her own Sings series is a masterclass in how to create a covers collection: respectful, loving, artful, yet interpretive and distinct from the originals; and above all, a reminder of how extraordinarily talented a songwriter is our Jeff.

This album is awesome and you can listen to it right here, here or here

HOPE: Juliana was born in 1967 so she has a strong lifelong connection with these songs and the album is freakin’ superb. Her versions of “Sweet Is The Night” and “Bluebird Is Dead” are particularly fabulous (ooh). In a 2023 interview with Under The Radar, she described her love for ELO in the most perfect way imaginable:

“I can completely relate to the idea of being a child and being just obsessed with the magic of music on the radio. And ELO is one of those magical sounds that I would hear on the radio and I would be transported to a beautiful place” 

That’s it right there. Take me us on and on.

The Ranking Summary!

Here are our best-to-worst album rankings, in descending order .

MATTHEW:

1.Out of the Blue

2.A New World Record

3.Time

4.Discovery

5.Alone in the Universe

6.Face the Music

7.Zoom

8.Secret Messages

9.From Out of Nowhere

10.Eldorado

11.Xanadu

12.Armchair Theatre

13.On the Third Day

14.Long Wave

15.Balance of Power

16.The Electric Light Orchestra/No Answer

17.ELO 2/ELO II

HOPE:

1.Out of the Blue

2.A New World Record

2.Discovery

4.Time

5.Face the Music

6.Eldorado

7.Alone in the Universe

8.Armchair Theatre

9.Xanadu

10.Secret Messages

11.Zoom

12.From Out of Nowhere

13.Balance of Power

14.On the Third Day

15.Long Wave

16.The Electric Light Orchestra/No Answer

17.ELO 2/ELO II

Hope & Matthew’s Top 15 favorite ELO songs ever!

Our original plan was to share our top 10 favorite ELO songs but that proved too restrictive as there are just too many brilliantly beautiful and beloved songs (dammit)! Thus we have decided to “deluxe” things and pick 15 songs each. Here are our faves (in no particular order)!

HOPE’S (in no particular order):

1.So Fine

2.Starlight

3.Need Her Love

4.Stranger

5.Big Wheels

6.Above the Clouds

7.Tightrope

8.Last Train to London

9.Bluebird is Dead

10.Telephone Line

11.The Whale

12.Sweet Is The Night

13.One Summer Dream

14.Take Me On and On

15.Jungle

MATTHEW’s (also in no particular order):

1.When I Was a Boy

2.Showdown

3.Strange Magic

4.Tightrope

5.Telephone Line

6.Shangri-La

7.Standing in the Rain

8.Big Wheels

9.Steppin’ Out

10.Last Train to London

11.Need Her Love

12.Ticket to the Moon

13.Take Me On and On

14.Now You’re Gone

15.Love and Rain

Weekly New Wonders Playlist #6 of 2024

Central Park doesn’t technically “belong” to me. But when it rains, and I’m the only one foolish enough to be riding my bike in the soak, it can sort of feel like it does ( humor me here). The playlist I ride along to in the rain is different than the one I roll along to in the sun. That one tends to be poppier and more manic. In the rain though, things gotta be moody. Introspective. Tearjerking. All the corny, predictable stuff that the rain represents. The “In The Rain” playlist needs to reflect the big wet gray sky, big wet green leaves, and if it’s worth its salt, have the potential to trigger some crying. The pic above is from the foggy, rainy park today. Let’s get moody. 

It’s been a while but here is the latest WEEKLY NEW WONDERS PLAYLIST which has turned out to be “Weekly” only in name. It’s a month’s worth of beautiful songs, thus is a bit of a beast (in the best way). Come meet your new, hour-long, melodic friend below on Soundcloud or Spotify.

Listen on Soundcloud

Listen on Spotify

Weekly New Wonders Playlist #5 0f 2024

It is officially baseball season (wait, come back) and for the first time in my lifelong fandom, I have decided to participate in a Fantasy League with my co-workers ( If you are blessedly unsure of what that is/means, just do a search). I never took part in a Fantasy League because I am too much of a fan of my own questionable team —that’d be the NY Mets—to be able to root against them under any circumstance ( you build your Fantasy team from all active players so you will inevitably have players on your Fantasy team trying to crush your real-life favored team i.e. My Mets). That guy in the pic is Connecticut’s own George Springer, one of my favorite non-Met players, who is on my Fantasy team who are named “The Stonecutters” after the fabled secret organization on The Simpsons (“We do, we do”).

Damn. I am already irritating THE LIVING F*CK out of myself not only by describing this new affliction but because I have not stopped obsessing over my roster for the past week and have been hypnotically staring at the app during every free moment to see how I’m doing. It’s awful. The season is only a few days old and I am already getting my arse whooped hard thanks to my many rookie mistakes…but I shall persevere and promise not to bring this up again. In the meantime, there is music.

Welcome to the latest WEEKLY NEW WONDERS PLAYLIST featuring the finest, foxiest songs that have surfaced over the past couple of weeks. And yes, there really are TWO amazing new songs titled “Baby Bangs” ( A first and likely a last). Listen to those and all of this week’s heart barnacles below on Soundcloud or Spotify.

Listen on Soundcloud

Listen on Spotify

Weekly New Wonders Playlist #4 of 2024

Love Lies' Bleeding Is a Queer Crime Romance Without Much Spark | Vanity  Fair

Just saw the new brutally entertaining, cartoonishly nuts, Kristen Stewart movie Love Lies Bleeding. It is basically a white trash version of the iconic 1996 film Bound ( though not as good, as if it could be). It also features one of my all-time favorite songs; “The Moon is Blue” by Colourbox ( hear here) which I have loved since first buying the single as a young one back in ye olde 1985(!). When I heard the opening notes, I felt a little gatekeeper-ish, like “Hey, that’s my song”. But I gave in pretty quickly, just wanting the scene to be as grand as the song, which it kinda was. Bless you “The Moon is Blue”, you officially belong to the world now and I’m okay with that.

And now please enjoy the latest WEEKLY NEW WONDERS PLAYLIST featuring the best tunes that have crossed our path over the past couple of weeks. They are frothy, fiery, and beautiful to the last. Listen on Soundcloud or Spotify below.

Listen on Soundcloud

Listen on Spotify

Weekly New Wonders Playlist #3 of 2024

I know a few passionate Nick Cave fans but have never been into his music myself ( I know, I know). That said, I genuinely dig his weekly newsletter The Red Hand Files where he responds to fan letters, addressing grief, culture, religion, and all matters of the heart. Yes, it can get serious but it is also seriously funny on occasion. He isn’t a psychologist or a faultless authority on life, which he regularly admits, but he is an empathetic listener and eloquent, elegant wordsmith. Anyway, it’s worth subscribing. Recently, a filmmaker/musician named Tam wrote to him saying that “My muses have left me and I have lost all motivation to create”. Nick responded to this letter with some hilariously awesome tough love:

“What makes our particular job so exceptional that it requires inspiration or a muse to do it? We are artists and we labour in the service of others. It is not something we do only if and when we feel motivated – we create because it is our responsibility to do so. In this respect, our occupation is no different than that of most people. Does an ordinary adult go to work only if they feel in the mood? Do doctors? Do labourers? Do teachers? Do taxi drivers? We are duty-bound to do our job, like everyone else, because the space we occupy depends upon our participation and breaks down if we don’t. A committed artist cannot afford the luxury of revelation. Inspiration is the indolent indulgence of the dabbler. Muses, Tam, are for losers!”

Got that? Suck it up and get to work. And forgive me for saying this Nick, but your response has become my muse.

On that note, it is now time for the latest WEEKLY NEW WONDERS PLAYLIST starring the sweetest, most wondrous new songs that have crossed our path over the past couple of weeks. There’s a reassuringly ’70s/’80s flavor to this week’s batch. You can step into the time machine below on Soundcloud or Spotify. 

Ok, back to work…

Listen on Soundcloud

Listen on Spotify

Weekly New Wonders Playlist #2 of 2024

I visited The Museum Of Natural History recently and remain fascinated with this romantic squirrel scene in which one seems to be reciting poetry to the other. They are truly living their best afterlives providing a few seconds of much-needed sweetness to those that pass by them each day. Love you squirrels, keep on keeping on.

And with that, welcome to the latest WEEKLY NEW WONDERS PLAYLIST featuring the finest songs that have been released over recent days. There’s lots of lustrous heartbreak, anthemic majesty, soul, and riffage to be had in these 16 (!) angels that follow. Damn. That sounded very, very over-the-top. Then again, when it comes to exulting a beautiful song, why not behave like a deranged, hyperbolic monster? Sloppy pop-love forever!

You can listen to the playlist on Soundcloud or Spotify below!

Also, do yourself a favor and spend some time with Mk. Gee’s new album Two Star & the Dream Police! Melodic, ethereal, soulful, scantily clad, a little Prince-y, a smidge-Arthur Russell-ish with an added dab of Stevie Wonder, it’s just plain old gorgeous. You can hear that below too!

Listen on Soundcloud

Listen on Spotify

Weekly New Wonders #1 of 2023!

Several months ago I innocently posed a question to my co-workers regarding how many (scrambled) eggs it was appropriate for one person to consume in a single sitting. I honestly didn’t know and was curious. My normal serving size was 5-6 eggs at that point. “Is that too much?” I innocently inquired. They were horrified. I was told that the long-established norm when it came to egg consumption was two at a time. Two. “What, are you training for a power-lifting competition?” was one of the genuinely awesome insults lobbed my way.

Though many days have passed since my sad query, my co-worker Joe still occasionally refers to me as “Luke”, the character Paul Newman plays in the 1967 classic Cool Hand Luke because of the scene where Luke claims he can eat 50 eggs in an hour (spoiler: he does). The criticism didn’t deter me as I had 5 freakin’ eggs today…but I thought about it as I made them, so I guess that’s a step forward in the quest for normalcy. Meanwhile the Luke-ing goes on. Know what, this is the perfect opportunity to share my favorite egg joke ever. Warning: It’s a Dad joke. Ready?

What did the bartender say to the egg and piece of toast when they walked into the bar together?

“We don’t serve breakfast here”

And with that, welcome to the latest (and first of 2024) WEEKLY NEW WONDERS PLAYLIST featuring the finest new songs released over the past couple of weeks. There are unspeakably gorgeous tracks from English Teacher, Kacy Hill, Sloe Noon, and many more brilliant folks to be had. You can listen below on Soundcloud or Spotify! These songs are egg-cellent. Yeah, I just did that.

Listen on Soundcloud

Listen on Spotify

PuR’s Top Songs & Albums of 2023!

I listen to thousands of songs every year and make playlists of standouts as I go (yeah, nerd here). My ‘Best Songs of 2023’ playlist closed out the year with over 400 songs within its confines. This week I finally culled that list down to a small, edible chunk of 30 and those are the tracks that feature in the official PuR’s Best Songs Of 2023 Playlist. I’m one of those backward people who need to decompress before I go to work (I know, weird), so the majority of this maniacal editing and ferreting takes place very, very early in the morning before the sun comes up. It’s sick.

Melody continues to be my own personal Jesus and is the foundation of how PuR’s Best Songs Of 2023 list is “computed”. The only criteria for a song’s inclusion are overall swoonworthy-ness and melodic majesty. It doesn’t matter if a song was released as an official single or if an artist is well-known and/or established. The determining factor is the song itself. I guess the main thing these songs have in common is their hook-filled tunefulness. So this list is built for you my fellow melody-hounds. 

And with that, please enjoy these weird, endlessly wonderful songs made by gorgeously inspired humans in 2023. Hope they make you swoon. Big Love.

And HEY, following the best song list is a list of PuR’s BestAlbums & EPs Of 2023 with links to listen to them attached(!). So much good stuff, oh man.

P.S. It wasn’t exactly my most prolific year as far as posts on PuR (understatement) but I am determined to make up for it in 2024 (dammit). I promise lots of new music in the form of the WEEKLY NEW WONDERS PLAYLIST ( I do the work so you don’t gotta) and even more of PuR’s insane, breathless Rating the Albums! feature series where we break down artist discographies to ludicrous extremes and I curse. A lot.

PuR’s Best Songs of 2023 Playlist!

Listen on Spotify:

Listen on Soundcloud:

PuR’s Best Albums & EPs of 2023!

These albums are depicted above and listed below in alphabetical order because ranking ’em proved impossible as they have all been the top fave at one time or another over the past year. They are all beautiful! You can listen to each of them below!

Julie ByrneThe Greater Wings (listen here)

Christine and the QueensParanoia, Angels,True Love (listen here)

Everything But The GirlFuse (listen here)

Laura GrovesRadio Red (listen here)

Holysseus FlyBirthpool EP (listen here)

Kara Jackson-Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love? (listen here)

JoesefPermanent Damage (listen here)

Long Islandinfatuation’s a nightmare (listen here)

Nourished By TimeErotic Probiotic 2 (listen here)

PebblMoonbeams (listen here)

Hayden PedigoThe Happiest Times I Ever Ignored (listen here)

PerleeSpeaking From Other Rooms (listen here)