Simple Minds - The Golden Dream of the '80s

The trajectory of Simple Minds is that of so many new wave bands who set out with experimental ambitions and ended up making chart-friendly pop-rock (or not so chart-friendly), inexorably doomed to oblivion. As with many of these groups, born at the dawn of the '80s in the full swing of the "new romantic" era, they too will forever be stuck with the hateful labels of "vacuous", "pompous", "insincere", in opposition to the "hard and pure" music of the alternative bands of the period. The aim of this profile, instead, is to try to dispel the clichés of indie-snob critics, reassessing the significance of a career that – at least in its first phase – offered plenty to be interested in, and not only on the level of melodic craft and arrangement care.

Dances and Cacophonies

The punk blaze that set London alight in 1977 quickly spread to nearby Glasgow, Scotland, where a year later, from the ashes of Johnny & The Self Abusers (authors of the spirited single "Saints And Sinners"), the very young Simple Minds were born. The band, which takes its name from a line in David Bowie's "Jean Genie" ("He's so simple minded"), is initially a trio: singer and leader Jim Kerr (1959) is joined by guitarist Charlie Burchill (1959) and keyboardist Mike McNeil (1958). The three already have a contract with Zoom, a small Edinburgh label distributed by Arista, for which they release their debut album Life In A Day (1979). As with their "cousins" Magazine, Ultravox and Japan, however, (post-)punk remains only a shadow, destined to be soon buried under massive layers of synth. In reality, the true guiding lights of this brood are above all the German electronic pioneers (Kraftwerk, Neu!) and, inevitably, David Bowie. From the former, Simple Minds would draw above all the pulsing, obsessive sonorities; from the latter, the glamorous attitude and the extraordinary melodic gift.

Raw like almost all debuts, yet illuminated by a brilliant compositional flair, Life In A Day is one of the most interesting records of this early phase of new wave. Kerr and company (joined by Derek Forbes on bass and Brian McGee on drums) manage to build elegant electronic architectures around a handful of romantic melodies, gradually twisted by ever more imaginative and overloaded arrangements, in the most Roxy Music sense of the term. The title track, for instance, is a small masterpiece, with Kerr's aching vocal and Burchill's taut guitar sketching the basic melodic line, while McNeill embellishes it with intricate organ and keyboard flourishes. This imaginative use of electronics, combined with an incredible ease in crafting pop hooks, returns on the other gem "Someone", with its fatalistic, decadent Bowie-esque swagger, but also on the languidly Ultravox-like "Destiny", the catchy "All For You" and the more complex "Sad Affair", which alternates clattering guitar with bursts of synth and saxophone.

The band's experimental streak also comes through well over the long haul, in the eight theatrical minutes of "Pleasantly Disturbed", bolstered by an alienating use of strings and a relentless drum, and in the over six minutes of "Murder Story", a dark take on Roxy Music's glam-rock, with lyrics that almost seem to evoke the claustrophobic syndromes of Berlin-era Bowie: “I get nightmares of places people go to meet/ It’s so apparent when I walk in the door, That I’m all alone/ There’s no one home and no one wants me anymore/ So claustrophobic if I stand in one place”. The driving "No Cure", meanwhile, reworks an earlier song called "Cocteau Twins", which would later inspire the choice of name for Elizabeth Fraser's band. The single, however, is "Chelsea Girl", which steals its riff from Lou Reed's "Temporary Thing", another cornerstone reference for the band.

Branded with a monochrome black cover, the following Reel To Real Cacophony (1979) veers toward a harsher, more menacing sound à-la Wire, earning the title of "least commercial album ever released by Arista". The attempt to build a reputation as an avant-garde band, with its feet planted in 70s art rock and its gaze cast toward a techno future, shows admirable courage. Even if two instrumentals like "Cacophony" and "Veldt" come across as little more than sterile avant-garde exercises (better, on that front, is "Film Theme"). But the gorgeous, hypnotic melody of "Factory", the chilling "Reel To Real" and the seductive "Changeling", propelled by relentless gusts of synth and an unyielding rhythm section, already hint at the trajectory the band would follow in the years to come.

The commercial failure of Reel To Real Cacophony, however, prompts the band to change course. In 1980, Empires And Dance is released, the darkest Simple Minds album. The manifesto of this new direction is the exhilarating single "I Travel", which, behind its disco cadences, conceals meticulous rhythmic work, with obsessive percussion, reiterated synth pulses and electronic swirls descended from kraut-rock (Neu!, Faust). The other single taken from the album, "Celebrate", has a more linear structure, with the bass's powerful tones and Kerr's bleak voice up front, but fully conveys the decadent, paranoid atmosphere that pervades the record. It's an atmosphere that also runs through the technotronic keyboards and thriller-like ups and downs of "Capital City", the surreal cabaret duet between Kerr and a spoken female voice in French on "Twist/Run/Repulsion", the Oriental-tinged percussion of "Today I Died Again" and the quasi-industrial hallucination of "Room". The record's "dark" abyss, however, is the seven minutes of "This Fear Of Gods", an alienating ritual that unfolds amid tinkling bells, martial keyboards, stormy rhythms, acidic guitars and a synthetic sax, with Kerr's vocal almost drowned in reverb. Only the brief interlude of "Kant-Kino" eases the tension for a moment. Empires And Dance marks another step forward in the band's experimentation, as well as winning them the admiration of Peter Gabriel, who takes them along on his European tour.

Electronic Fascinations

The first phase of Simple Minds' career ideally comes to a close in 1981 with the split from Arista (which would collect this period in the compilation Celebration) and the move to a new label, Virgin. The first move is the release of two twin albums, Sons And Fascination and Sister Feelings Call, both produced by Steve Hillage and initially sold together, then separately. The project is ambitious, but not always backed by adequate inspiration in the songwriting. The underlying idea is to combine the art-rock vein of their early days with the funky-dance grooves already sketched out on Empires And Dance. Tracks like "Love Song", "Sweat In Bullet" and "The American", at the very least, hit the mark; "Seeing Out The Angels" shows that the band can also feel at home in ballad form; but the record's true gems are "This Earth That You Walk Upon", with an extremely dark bass and a lush bed of keyboards over which Kerr's chant-like vocal rests, and the instrumental "Theme For Great Cities", a study in sinuous, shimmering electronics.

Though uneven, all these records had confirmed the evolution of the Simple Minds' sound toward a form of electronic music that was both catchy and steeped in pop melodicism, yet also permeated by a dark allure and sustained by an intellectual rigor worthy of their noble mentors.

New Gold Dream (1982) is the final destination of this quest, the exaltation of both sides of their music, as confirmed by the simultaneous commercial and critical success it achieved. With Black drummer Mel Gaynor taking over from McGee behind the kit (though various session men would alternate during the album's recording), the band unleashes an even more powerful and majestic sound, in which the dialogue between the drums and Derek Forbes's bass counts for almost as much as McNeil's magnificent keyboard arabesques, Burchill's exquisite effects-laden embellishments, and Kerr's epic, desperate vocals.

The opening "Someone, Somewhere In Summertime" is the album's first anthem. Over a tight rhythmic bed pulsing on the quarter notes, the guitar riff introduces a verse that opens onto the era's characteristic keyboard carpets. The song rises, enveloping, until it reaches the chorus, with Kerr belting out the slogan that gives the song its title. "Colours Fly And Catherine Wheel" is dominated by Forbes's fine plucked riff, with keyboard and guitar flourishes and inlays. The verse spins concentrically on itself, simulating a launch into a chorus that doesn't actually exist. Another hit from the album is "Promised You A Miracle", which opens with a fresh, inviting hook repeated several times throughout the song: here too, MacNeil's keyboard work is paradigmatic. "Big Sleep" rests on the interplay between a simple keyboard riff and a lovely slapped bass line, over which the guitar's rain of notes pours like magic dust, and, above it all, the drums hammer away on the quarter notes: one of the finest examples of hypnotic song produced by new wave.

"New Gold Dream (81-82-83-84)" is the album's manifesto song. It opens with the tightly pulsing bass over the keyboard riff, and then it's one fantastic gallop, with an epic Kerr hailing the golden dream of those early '80s. "Glittering Prize" again features Forbes in the spotlight, with a gorgeous bass riff carrying the whole song, and an ever-bouncing MacNeil, whose keyboards make room in the chorus for Burchill's guitar embellishments. The most intense episode, though, is perhaps "Hunter And The Hunted", with its magical intro of Herbie Hancock's keyboard solo. The album closes with the shadowy "King Is White And In The Crowd", with keyboard interplay that seems to echo Kraftwerk, and with Forbes nodding to the immense Mick Karn (Japan).

New Gold Dream is a perfect synthesis of the strongly electronic sound with dance leanings that goes under the name "British Invasion".

After a season of successful concerts across Europe, the group makes another abrupt turn, this time toward rock, embarking on an ultimately unjustified rivalry with the era's rising stars, U2. Working alongside none other than the Irish band's producer, Steve Lillywhite, Kerr and co. try their hand at more forceful, metallic sounds on Sparkle In The Rain (1984).

The result leaves longtime fans momentarily puzzled, but confirms the solidity of a band that, by mediating between synth-pop and "guitar rock", still manages to offer a few flashes of glory. "Up On The Catwalk" towers above the rest with its spellbinding stride amid the turmoil of the drumming, the chiming piano, and Kerr's evocative vocals, which land on another of his prodigious melodies, backed by exquisite keyboard embellishments. The overwhelming energy of "Speed Your Love To Me" spawns a new live warhorse. And the other, more conventional hit, "Waterfront", also garners strong approval.

There's no shortage of ambitious compositions either, in the vein of their early experimentalism: from the melodramatic "East At Easter" to the instrumental "Shake Off The Ghosts" (not to mention the dispensable cover of the Reed-penned "Street Hassle"): tracks that are always well crafted, even if not always imbued with that hypnotic, visionary force that had illuminated their predecessors.

Overall, the toughening of the sound seems potentially capable of harming their music, upsetting the elegant balance that had distinguished it up to that point.

The deal with the devil

1984 brings two more developments: Kerr marries Pretenders singer Chrissie Hynde, and bassist Forbes leaves the band, replaced by John Giblin. Just when they seem to have hit a dead end, Simple Minds stumble onto the track that will grant them worldwide fame and a comfortable old age. Recorded for the soundtrack of "The Breakfast Club", "Don't You (Forget About Me)" is a catchy little tune (and not much more) that becomes a colossal hit worldwide, propelling the Minds from a successful but still niche band into a mass phenomenon. As in a sort of Faustian pact with the devil, however, from that track onward the group loses its identity for good, gradually getting crushed in the gears of stardom. The paradox is that the song wasn't even written by Simple Minds, but by the duo Steve Schiff and Keith Forsey...

Intoxicated by their sudden popularity, the band heads off to the United States, where they take part in Live Aid (in Philadelphia) and record Once Upon A Time, a merely decent AOR album that, improbably, outsells all their previous records combined. The single "Alive And Kicking", though emphatic and pompous, stands as one of the best tracks, alongside the melancholic "I Wish You Were Here".

For the rest, the album wavers between pompous, melodic pop-rock numbers that nonetheless work ("Sanctify Yourself", "All The Things She Said") and decidedly bland anthems (the title track, "Oh Jungleland").

As with U2 from "Rattle & Hum" onward, the process of "Americanization" does Simple Minds no favors, as they renounce their electro-wave roots to take the classic leap into the void of those who have lost their identity and chase after something they know they can never attain. Because either you are Dylan and Springsteen, or you can't simply improvise being them. And Kerr doesn't come across as credible in the role of populist rock star.

Success, however, continues to smile on the group for some time. The long 1987 tour is a worldwide sensation and is documented on the double live album In The City Of Lights, where even the magical songs of the past are, unfortunately, mangled beyond recognition.

Amid the confusion, Kerr throws himself into political activism, between sincere involvement in broad-reaching projects (the "Conspiracy Of Hope" tour for Amnesty International and the concert for the liberation of South African black leader Nelson Mandela) and dubious combat-folk sermonising, as on Street Fighting Years (with the possible exception of the sentimental ballad "Belfast Child" and the sincere "Afro" ode "Mandela Day"). This latest album, in any case, will spawn another successful promotional tour, with new bassist Malcolm Foster and Lisa Germano on violin.

Free Fall

In the Nineties, Kerr is remembered above all for his love affair with blonde bombshell Patsy Kensit (Eighth Wonder), while Simple Minds' decline — with Peter Vitesse on keyboards replacing the departed McNeil — becomes even more disastrous: Real Life from 1991 (with "See The Lights"), Good News From The Next World from 1995 (with "She's A River") and Neapolis from 1998 (with "Glitterball") are testament to a worn-out band, dragging itself along wearily, unable to give any sense of purpose to its work. Another album pitched to Emi, Our Secrets Are The Same, isn't even released. All that's left, then, is a covers album like Neon Lights (Eagle, 2001), to keep the lights on and maybe scrape together the odd gig here and there (particularly in Italy, where Kerr also collaborates with Franco Battiato).

This string of insipid works prompts a certain strand of rock criticism to carry out one of its most typical acts of distortion: ruining a band's reputation by erasing its best work from memory. And so the band's Eighties output is also recast as "contrived," if not outright "pathetic," New Gold Dream becomes a musty record to be buried in the closet alongside other embarrassing skeletons, and Simple Minds' influence on the electro-pop bands of the following decade vanishes from the history books.

With considerable honesty, Kerr will admit a few years later: "Without McNeil we stopped being a real band. Simple Minds no longer worked. We should have taken a break or at least faced the problem, but we didn't. We felt tired, drained, hollowed out. Now we're more relaxed: we'll only do the things we enjoy. We don't need a record company dictating its priorities to us. We don't care whether an album sells or not. We've learned our lesson: you don't need to reach the top of the charts every time." The fruit of this new approach is Cry (2002), released on the independent label Eagle and featuring contributions from Vince Clarke of Erasure and Neapolitan outfit Planet Funk. Tracks like "Disconnected" and "The Floating World" attempt to regenerate the Simple Minds sound with hefty injections of techno-dance, but the outcome, on the whole, is disappointing once again. Meanwhile, Silver Box is released, a box set comprising 5 CDs and a 76-page booklet, tracing the band's career with 24 tracks spanning 1979 to 2000, including unreleased material and live recordings (the fifth disc also contains the never-released Our Secrets Are The Same).

Recorded amid a sweeping new wave revival, Black & White (2005) brings back to the mixing desk Bob Clearmountain, who had already worked with the band on "Once Upon A Time" and was behind some of the biggest hits by Nile Rodgers, David Bowie and Brian Ferry. With tangible results: a polished, (overly) powerful sound that lends the tracks an undeniable veneer of appeal. But dig a little deeper and... there's nothing underneath. The single "Home," which put the band back on the charts after many years, serves up fairly trite riffs, glossy electronic dressing and Kerr's booming voice, now softened by age (not unlike a reassuring version of Wayne Hussey). The opening of "Stay Visible" follows a similar path, starting out with the cadences of an atmospheric ballad and a few promising melodic openings, before bogging down in overdriven guitar work. And while Burchill has by now lost the magic touch on his guitar, Kerr hasn't lost the habit of aping Bono's emphatic baritone: "Stranger" is there to remind us, with its anthemic pretensions, drowned in a stale chorus and a dubious closing sing-along. The sound aims for energy but mostly comes across as bloated, as in the inconclusive title-track ballad (about the Holocaust) or in "Different world (Taormina.Me)," a tribute to their adopted Sicilian "homeland," held together more by the interplay of bass and drums than by the overbearing synth layers. Better, if anything, are the more ethereal, rarefied moments, where the band's old melodic gift occasionally flickers back to life: especially "Underneath The Ice," with a more inspired Kerr declaiming over an evocative keyboard arabesque and a biting central solo from Burchill, and the closing "Dolphins," lost amid electronic flutters and soft tones. But it's only a flicker in the desert. Nor does the new version of "The Jeweller," a track originally included on "Our Secret Are The Same," help matters.

Black & White may well boost Simple Minds' commercial standing, but it leaves the bitter aftertaste of a great opportunity squandered.

For the making of the next album, a full-scale reunion of the original line-up is announced, to properly mark the band's thirtieth anniversary. But the project evidently falls through, because Graffiti Soul (2009), besides marking the second collaboration with producer Jez Coad, still bears the signature of the trio that has kept the name alive in recent releases: Jim Kerr, Charlie Burchill and Mel Gaynor.

It turns out, however, to be yet another damp squib, confirming the exhaustion of a group that seems unable to revitalise its sound. Burchill's guitar delivers the occasional striking riff ("Moscow Underground," "Rockets") and the bass-drums axis lays down solid rhythmic foundations. Kerr's intense voice, though slightly worn by the years, still hits you right in the heart. But the epic refrains that always defined Simple Minds' greatness — even during the post-"Don't You" decline — are entirely absent. And too many tracks come across as embarrassing imitations of a past that cannot return (the cloying "Stars Will Lead The Way," the needlessly aggressive "This Is It," the turgid title track). Even the synths, pushed into the background, no longer manage to paint the evocative arabesques of old, settling instead for fairly conventional — at times downright banal — structures ("Kiss & Fly"). Partial exceptions are "Light Travels" and "Blood Type O," with their nods to the electronic Berlin of Bowie and Eno, though without ever truly shining.

Better, if anything, is the covers CD included in the deluxe version, on which the British band spiritedly reinterprets nine rock classics, from Neil Young's "Rockin' In The Free World" to Massive Attack's "Teardrop." But the fact that the best version of Simple Minds right now is the one playing covers already speaks volumes.

Back To The Past

It's the band itself, with commendable intellectual honesty, that comes to terms with this, diving back into the past in order to rise again. And what a past... Simple Minds return to their roots, to those five wonderful albums that had left everyone breathless at the dawn of the Eighties. Hence 5x5 Live, a live project that brings them back onto Europe's stages with five songs from each of their first five albums: Life In A Day, Real To Real Cacophony, Empires And Dance, Sons And Fascination/Sister Feelings Call and New Gold Dream (81, 82, 83, 84), which in 2012 marks its thirtieth anniversary.

And to celebrate the event, a special box set is also released: Simple Minds 5X5, containing the five remastered albums in their original versions along with unreleased material including b-sides and remixes.

Kept alive by their tireless live activity, Simple Minds also show signs of a studio revival, judging by the wall of sequencers and synthesisers with which they rebuild the renewed grandeur of their new album Big Music (2014). Indeed, the title itself betrays a desire to return to that passionate, weighty sound which in 1984 the Waterboys dubbed precisely "Big Music," a label also applied to a handful of bands of the era, from The Alarm to Big Country and, of course, Simple Minds themselves.

Twelve songs (18 on the deluxe version), many of them already written over the course of the band's last six years of activity, see the British group forge in the studio a synthesis between the fervent sound of their early days and the more bombastic one of Once Upon A Time. A dense, layered blend, occasionally boosted by a renewed songwriting spark, starting with the pulsing electro of "Blindfolded," which opens the record on a note of new, mysterious, mystical lyrics, and the following "Midnight Walking," a powerful synthetic ride in the footsteps of the groove of New Gold Dream. The single "Honest Town," Kerr's tribute to his mother and to the Glasgow of his childhood, nails the right feeling, helped also by the contribution of Iain Cook of Chvrches, who co-writes "Blood Diamonds," already included — along with the equally nostalgic unreleased track "Broken Glass Park" — on the anthology Celebrate (2013).

Kerr, after all, is a man with a tender heart, and on "Let The Day Begin" he even remembers The Call, old touring companions, paying tribute to singer Michael Been, who died in 2010 and who had actually written the song drawing on Simple Minds' "Waterfront". It was instead a Prince concert in Montreux – according to the frontman himself – that inspired the muscular title track, which radiates real firepower while never quite exploding. And while no less grandiose episodes like "Human" and "Kill Or Cure" try – with varying degrees of success – to reignite the spark of Sparkle In The Rain, the closing "Spirited Away" condenses all the melancholy into a hushed, more intimate and relaxed confession.

A reassuring step forward, then, for Kerr and co., even if talk of a resurrection still sounds like a stretch.

In 2018 comes Walk Between Worlds, a more pop and guitar-driven record than its predecessor (see lead single "Magic"), with art-rock echoes ("Utopia" and "Summer"), orchestrations recorded at Abbey Road – thanks, mother BMG – and sprawling, almost cinematic atmospheres. For instance on the title track, or on "Barrowland Star", one of the standout songs with a big closing solo from Burchill, named after the historic Glasgow club where, among other things, the Minds shot the video for "Waterfront". That song isn't actually new, having already been released, in instrumental form, as the B-side of the single "She's A River" (1995).

The best moment, however, remains "Signal And The Noise", a splendid midtempo with sounds, noises and rhythms that are thoroughly wave, and a chorus with immediate impact, one that would have landed just as well back in their golden years. Also worth noting is the third single "Sense Of Discovery", which starts off well, muffled, builds through the verse, and then you reach the bridge and your arms drop, thanks to a copy-paste job from the chorus of "Alive And Kicking". Self-quotation, sure, but they could have done better.

"Angel Underneath My Skin", which closes the album, harks straight back to Le Bon and co. from its very title through to the vocals and melody, with a chorus that couldn't sound more Duran Duran.

The production is polished, the record sounds good with modern arrangements and a fine balance between guitars and electronics, and in the end it comes across as a kind of pocket-sized primer on what the simple minds have achieved, for better or worse, across 40 years of history. Sure, there's still no sign of that elusive hit they've been chasing for who-knows-how-many years now, one they're probably no longer capable of writing. But given that "ten years ago we were practically dead, nobody was interested in our music anymore" (recent interview with La Repubblica), a passing grade is happily granted. And cracking the upper reaches of the UK chart (#4), after years in obscurity, is in any case a sign of renewed interest in the band.

Four years later comes a new album, titled Direction Of The Heart (2022). Conceived in Sicily, the adopted homeland of Jim and Charles, and produced together with the other current members (Ged Grimes on bass, Cherisse Osei on drums and Berenice Scott on keyboards), it shows a desire to deliver good songs while still sending out messages of social awareness.

"Vision Thing" opens the dance with layers of bright keyboards and unfolds into a danceable rock track that leaves little trace, partly because Jim Kerr doesn't let loose and leaves room for the synths. "Who Killed Truth" addresses the loss of meaning of truth, in a track where Jim pours all his energy into the chorus while the guitars take the lead. "Act Of Love", not surprisingly one of the most interesting tracks, is drawn from the Scots' earliest material and is presented in a version where the guitar calls the shots, leaving the electronics to act as a backdrop. "Planet Zero" is energetic and atmospheric, confronting us with the fact that we have no spare planet zero in reserve, only the one we're currently setting on fire: "Do you ever dream of planet zero, and all those other mysteries".

It's with a cover, though, that the album truly explodes and the listening experience becomes gripping: "The Walls Come Down", the 1983 anti-militarist song by the Americans The Call, is reborn with power, taking on new meaning in the fraught situation we live in today. "Direction Of The Heart", meanwhile, has a dark chord progression and a post-punk use of keyboards that latches onto your neurons instantly, overwhelmed as they are by layers of epic synths.

So, what is the direction of the heart for Simple Minds today? It's made up of messages of protest and hope, and the honesty of a band that lives in the present without chasing the approval of old fans. The album is a pleasant listen; the messages come through, though the songs sometimes struggle to do the same. But the fan's inner conflict has only been partly resolved: there's still pleasure in seeing them out there after 43 years, but if it's real emotion you're after, the musical territory lies elsewhere these days.

In 2023 comes New Gold Dream – Live From Paisley Abbey, which is nothing other than a document of the recent full performance of the 1982 masterpiece by Simple Minds at Paisley Abbey, in their native Glasgow, where they were invited by Sky Arts to record an episode of "Greatest Album Live".

The record – live, but without an audience – thus has a purely celebratory purpose, one that also seals the solid chemistry of the new line-up, in which the two surviving old hands of the group, Jim Kerr and Charlie Burchill, are joined by Ged Grimes on bass (who replaced Derek Fobes in 2010) and by two more recent female additions: Berenice Scott on keyboards (since 2020) and Cherisse Osei, who has replaced Mel Gaynor on drums since 2018.

An honest celebration, then, one of many carried out by the Scottish band in recent years, on a path inevitably turned more toward the past than the present, but not without the occasional pleasant spark.

Contributions by Sigfrido Menghini ("New Gold Dream"), Mauro Caproni ("Walk Between Worlds"), Luigi Zampi ("Direction Of The Heart")

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