10cc
Mirror Mirror

The twilight of 10cc is melancholically realized with this final work dating back to 1995 and its stylish cover, vaguely reminiscent of Salvador Dalí.

The group, formed in 1970, had split into two factions in 1976, but continued to perform well for a certain period; a serious car accident involving guitarist Eric Stewart at the end of the decade had then put everything on hold for some time.

The career revival produced a trio of rather modest albums (compared to the earlier ones), and by the mid-eighties, 10cc had officially gone astray. A new reformation at the beginning of the nineties, with the recall of the two original members who left in '76, but with roles much more marginal than at the start, did not produce significant results.

Without a contract, it seemed at that point that it was all over for 10cc, but a Japanese label (in Japan, nothing of Anglo-Saxon rock is ever discarded, glory remains imperishable and gratitude eternal there) funded this work. But the situation was seriously compromised, with the two mainstays Graham Gouldman and Eric Stewart at that point operating from two different countries, one in London and the other in France. They didn't even meet, doing everything separately.

So, this album can be seen as a half "solo" by Stewart recorded in France, mixed with the other half managed by Gouldman and made in England; two half solo works bound together, with one exception that, however, worsens things: the common "acoustic" remake of the mega-hit and career masterpiece "I'm Not in Love," placed at the end of the tracklist, in my opinion, at the precise request/extortion of the Japanese record executives.

"Acoustic" because a couple of guitars jangle instead of the original's enveloping electric piano. But the irritation comes from the fact that those sumptuous, richly vocal chorus loops, which in 1974, meticulously realized one by one into tape pieces and then laboriously assembled, constituted one of the most incredible mixes of all time, are resurrected. With those tape loops so characteristic and dominant in the arrangement, the song sounds essentially the same, thus proving useless, redundant.

As for the rest, meaning the other dozen or so tracks (more or less, depending on the country of album release), there isn’t a truly memorable one among them. They are songs that flow by gracefully and professionally but without taking root. The lyrics are witty but not as effectively surreal as they once were. Even illustrious guests play, such as Paul McCartney, a personal friend of Stewart who collaborated on several albums of the former Beatle in the eighties; but the genius melodies, the eccentric chord progressions, the artistic and textual oddities that had elevated and singularized the role of this group in the international pop rock scene are missing.

Only for completists, curious, and great fans of 10 Cubic Centimeters.