THE BEAT GOES ON

THE BEAT GOES ON

Primal Therapy Cures Mental Hurting

NEW YORK—Think about the reasons people give for starting bands. To get money. To get girls. To stand tall as a wimp in a jock-riddled world. To get more money. To be a great musician, whatever that might mean to a Krokus fan. I guarantee you’ve never heard this reason before.

“Actually,” says the beagleeyed Roland Orzabal with a sheepish half-smile, “we started Tears For Fears so we could get money to go into therapy.”

Geez. Just think about all the rock boys who should use their riches to get some professional psychiatric help. And here’s this smokey-voiced, slow-moving 21-year-old Brit who wants therapy at the get-go, already seeming healthier than 40 percent of his more infamous peers. Of course, he may well be crazy by the time you read this. How long can you stay sane with the world referring to you as “that band into primal therapy”? Agh.

That referral might be enough to keep potential fans away from Roland and partner Curt Smith’s debut, The Hurting. Could be a cryin’ shame, if you’re at all into the small combo/British synthpop that’s been making such a long-term love nest out of MTV—say, aren’t there immigration quotas anymore?

Orzabal is not dumb. He knows the album’s (nearly) overwhelming fault; synth-poppers have somberness as a trademark, after all, and here’s all these lyrics about catharsis, rejection, loneliness, and other chuckle factories: “I’d say that the main problem with our work is our seriousness. The album is more serious than we actually are. It lacks a sense of humor. We’re funnier than that.”

Case in point: “Curt and I got very tired of telling the British reporters about our chronology, so we started making things up, like band names. ‘History Of Headaches’ was one of ’em.” Well if the therapy doesn’t work...

From the little he’ll offer by way of self-revelation (outside of his songs), Orzabal seems to be laughing more than one might expect. He comes from a smallish country town and a family which broke up, leaving a lot of rough edges for Roland to slice himself up on. “My father tried to strangle my sister once.” In search of comprehension and relief, Orzabal wrote songs, played instruments and picked through books. When he found Arthur Janov (Prisoners Of Pain), the father of primal therapy and an influence of John Lennon’s, the code of familial crap was broken for him. Bassist/singer/best friend Curt Smith heard the same message. “It’s not just psychology; it’s humanism, a way of looking at the world.”

A way of looking at Tears For Fears, for now, is not to look too hard at the lyric sheet. Listen very hard instead to the incredible combo of synth minimalism and warm sweaty pop that Roland is inventing. Maybe Roland and his music will both get better. Compared to most of the craziness out there, the prognosis is hopeful.

Laura Fissinger

5 Years Ago

Play It Again, Bob!

In reaction to the line “She had points of her own, way up high” during the Columbus performance of Bob Seger’s “Night Moves,” several front row females visually interpreted the lyrics for a stunned but nevertheless pleased Seger by baring their bazooms...

Inside The Outsets

NEW YORK—I was late for the interview. Twice. So when the Outsets finally cornered me amidst the slum ambience of the Baltyk Bar & Grill and Home For Wayward Cockroaches, I bought a round of drinks. Twice.

That made us even. At a CBGB’s record release bash the week before, frontman Ivan Julian passed around champagne from the stage, asking, “What is a party without al-cohol?”

What indeed? While you junior philosophers ponder that question, here’s a look at some pedigrees that practically clinch success from the outset(s):

Ivan Julian (guitar)—Born in Washington, D.C., and lived in Cuba long enough to develop a fear of flying, buzzing insects. Played “Build Me Up Buttercup” with the faded Foundations in English cabarets during early to mid-’70s. Came to New York in ’75 and became one of Richard Hell’s Voidoids. Split in 1980 to form new combo with...

Vincent DeNunzio (drums) — Dad was a jazz drummer, who “gave it up to raise a family.” Sonny boy played with avantgarde musicians in Reading and Philly, PA, “’cause I was into Beefheart. I found a bass player and a clarinet player. That Was it. That was the whole band.” During mid-’70s, he joined the Feelies, “a conceptual group” that only played on holidays. Proved his bass pedal prowess by dispatching two pinkie-fingerlerigth waterbugs during the interview to the relief of author and guitar player.

Danny Hirsch (bass)—First bass on 11th birthday. “Me and a friend started playing and my mother came in to tell me something, and I yelled ‘Fuck you! Get outta here, we’re playing.’ It took me another year after they beat me up to really start playing.” Left Chicago’s arty new wave scene to play “real rock ’n’ roll” with Johnny Thunders and Walter Lure’s Heroes. Joined Outsets in January ’82.

The Outsets backed Richard Hell on a comeback tour in the summer of ’82, then began recording their debut EP with Garland Jeffreys at the controls. “He saw us at the Bottom Line. Danny insulted him, and he liked us immediately,” Ivan recalls.

But Jeffreys had incorrectly assumed that Ivan was a kindred spirit after reading a Lester Bangs Village Voice article on racism and rock. “He thought Ivan was some poor black guy trying to play rock ’n ’ roll in a whit6 man’s world,” Danny explains. The result of this attempt at color coordination was a clash; Jeffreys’ “tweeds turned to plaids” and he canceled the Outsets’ opening slot on his tour, then canceled the tour and tried to get a court injunction against the record.

But hey, no hard feelings. The disc is out, sounds good and has the diversity to back up that familiar contention that “we’re not a one groove band.” Compare the aggressive funk of “Dancin’ In The Dark” to the positively laid-back balladry of “Heart On Fire,” and you’ll really start to wonder why Ivan calls this stuff “punk-funk-voodoo” music.This is rock ’n’ roll!

Live, the Outsets display archetypal garage band energy and chops without a trace of slavish devotion to that acidsoaked sound. Linda Curtis, “a well-known subversive nudist” who prefers Parisian beatnik ensembles onstage (sorry, guys), adds doorchime keyboards and congas to the hefty rhythms that Vinnie and Danny mash out while still managing to whoop it up on backing vocals. Ivan flails and croons, blistering shards of power chords and simmering, reflective leads filter-blended to metalic perfection. At times the sound becomes so dense, edgy and frenetic that the crowd start inventing new spazz dances just to keep up, like the chubby college kid who engaged in a slam dance jitterbug that had me hopping for fear of broken toes.

“I listen to everything from Rachmaninoff to James Brown to George Jones,” Ivan admits, “but I’m not really into guitar virtuosos.’” Then again, he doesn’t need to be.

David Keeps

WHAT WOULD FLORENCE SAY?

Didn't think it would come to this, didja ol' sport? On the right. Of course, is fubsy-wubsy singer Belinda Carlisle of the now-cooltohate-becausethey're -popular Go-Go's. The frowzy fella? None other than Barry Williams—that's right, Greg Brady of the actual Brady Bunch I Ah, the memories ...remember tho time when he had the deciding vote in the cheerleader competition and he had to choose between sis Marcia and his own girl friend? Or the time Greg and Bobby put Jan's fave pair of pantyhose in the freezer, with Jan still in ’em? Or how about the infamous Tonestained Mungette episode? No? Us neither—we were too busy looking at the little girls!