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The strange duo of Marc Almond and Dave Ball returned to the scene in 1983, two years after the successful full-length debut "Non-stop erotic cabaret". It was difficult to follow up on such a work, successful in both commercial and artistic outcomes, and able to provide an ambiguous and vivid social portrait of certain England at the dawn of Thatcherism. The sabbatical year was filled with the release of "Non-stop ecstatic dancing", one of the first "remix" albums in history, that confirmed their nature as prime movers of the techno-pop scene. "Memorabilia" also confirmed with the ballian restyling to be one of the most influential songs of the era (the New Order with "Blue Monday" would soon acknowledge this...) with that robotic bass line borrowed from James Brown, Moroderian echoes, assorted noises stitched by mastermind Ball and shaped by Almond's unparalleled expressiveness, while in "A man could get lost" even house forebodings were registered, amidst acidic and nagging synth and electronic drum beats.
The gestation of "The art of falling apart" was therefore complex, both due to the enormous expectations and the first centrifugal forces within the duo, of which the title is clearly symptomatic. The result was a work with an epic flavor, not without contradictions, yet endowed with moments of absolute depth, where the loss of that sense of urgency, confusion, and vice that characterized the debut was partly compensated by greater compositional daring.
The first side repaints, with perhaps too much craft, the sound of "Non-stop erotic cabaret": obsessive sounds and chaotic vocalizations of seventies disco-music, Suicide-inspired keyboards recreating the up-tempo emphasis of Northern soul and a melodic taste derived from Roxy Music in weaving it all together (symbolic in this sense is "Kitchen sink drama", a somewhat pale copy of "Say hello wave goodbye").
Even Almond’s themes revisit his most famous hallmarks, although the pathos of a "Youth" is not matched. In "Where the heart is", Marc reconnects the tormented threads of bedsitting and the alienating young homosexual condition, while in "Heat" he plunges into a whirlpool of lascivious depravity, in the anonymity of a dark room. The very track in question, by leading to a disorienting sound coda, surprises and introduces the second side. Here an imposing baroque melodrama comes into play. Both Ball and Almond raise the stakes, with assured impact and enjoyment. "Baby Doll" engages, spiraling into a grandiose whirlwind, just like the title track, where the intertwining between Almond’s grandguignolesque voice, Ball’s dazzling keyboards, and synthesizer achieve perfection, while in "Loving you, hating me" the white soul echoes and unusual electric guitar slashing that tear opulent synth-pop blasts stand out.
The journey on the brink of collapse continues with "Jimi Hendrix medley", in which the sensuality and groove of the most classic of rock icons are deconstructed into glacial minimalist solutions. "Martin" is instead one of the peaks of the entire Soft Cell repertoire: an intense ride teetering between murky ferocity and refined theatricality, crossed by percussive clangors and dizzying arrangements in forging morbid almost industrial figures, to find an outlet in a nightmare without refuge: a starting point for many gothic drifts of the 90s, starting with those of Reverend Manson.
Almond and Ball parted ways shortly after, not before another noteworthy album (the ill-fated "Last night in Sodom"): the first to start a successful solo career, the second away from the scene, apart from the excellent project of the Grid. The successful reunion a few years ago would later reaffirm the consent and admiration for the cabaret by Soft Cell: always sparkling, just like that old sign in Soho.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
02 Where the Heart Is (04:32)
Atmospheres are tense today
Mother and father are rowing again
Silently seated around the table
You're the one that's getting the blame
Father looks at you like a snake
You play with the food upon your plate
No one seems to be on your side
Things that threaten to hurt your pride
Mother loves to be concerned
Using lessons that she learnt
Fathers never understand
When children have the upper hand
Smiling you did your time at school
Crying quietly like a fool
Saturday night and Sunday morning
Did all the things they asked you to do
They say that home is where the heart is
But home is only where the hurt is
Pull the wool over the eyes
Forget the worries that you started
Mother loves to be concerned
Using lessons that she learnt
Fathers never understand
When children have the upper hand
When you stayed out every night
The first time from your parent's sight
They started to show some concern
But by then it was too late
Feel it's time to pull away
Shut your ears to all they say
Be yourself you know it's true
When in the end what's left is you
Mother loves to be concerned
Using lessons that she learnt
Fathers never understand
When children have the upper hand
03 Numbers (04:55)
Numbers
Who's the person that you woke up next to today
If you were any older
Then you'd know you'd have to pay your way
Well maybe you do already
But you make out they pay you
Did you ask yourself where did love go wrong with you?
Numbers
Don't tell me your name I don't want to know
And don't forget to take all reminders when you go
Good things have to end
And I was never any good at saying goodbye
Because when I say goodbye a silly thing happens
And I always cry
Numbers
You're looking so thin these days are you doing speed?
(No, numbers)
Have you seen your face? Now you're really going to seed
(Playing numbers)
Doing a nine to five in the day
And you never know their names
Because names make a person real
And there's no real people in these games
Numbers
Pass them on and pass them by
Numbers
Never hold a good thing down for long
Numbers
Throw 'em away like Kleenex
Numbers
Pick them up and push them away
Numbers
Oh numbers
Until you wake up one day
And find that you're a number
Body one, body two, body three, body four
Body one, body two, body three, body four
Numbers
04 Heat (06:11)
It was the heat of the night I think
Or it could've been the effect of the drink
But I had to brush away the flies
That started to collect around your eyes
I've still the taste of the sweat and the dust
You're still playing games and abusing my trust
In the heat of the night
In the glow of the light
It's the back and the bite
That's feeling alright
Do you use up bodies like cigarettes
Do you need them for ego
Do you need them for sex
It was a bite of a night gone wrong
And the effect of listening to negative songs
Stuck in a love scene from blood and sand
And the way the room keeps spinning around
I steal the taste of the sweat and the dust
(Now I know what they mean by looks can kill)
You're still playing games and abusing my trust
(And they're having a strange effect on the way I feel)
In the heat of the night
In the glow of the light
It's the back and the bite
That's feeling alright
Do you use up bodies like cigarettes
Do you need them for ego
Do you need them for sex
And you're moaning about your wasted life
Lying there listening to "Spanish Eyes"
With the cups on the floor
And the plates in the sink
And the room full of smoke
And then you full of drink
You skin's going dry
And the colour of sand
Ignore the cigarette burning your hand
06 Baby Doll (03:54)
Baby doll is on her trapeze
Wearing the smile that she never sees
Thinking of dollar as she tries to tease
Time to play Sheba on a wooden stage
Taking off the clothes that are grimy with age
Rubbing down the skin that is white and cold
And the sticking plasters that cover up the holes
Stared at by a man that would do her harm
Needs to earn the money that will feed his arm
He promised you security safe and warm
He promised you security safe and warm
They'll never know the hurt that you feel inside
The emptiness you try to hide
I would melt your eyes that are glassy and cold
And as for the future when you grow old
Baby doll
Baby doll
They'll never know the hurt you feel inside
The emptiness you try to hide
Take a tiny costume from a pile of clothes
Just a touch of glitter and a glow of gold
Pick on a failure make his knees go weak
Mouth open, eyes wide, fake your peak
He'll wipe a line of dribble falling from his mouth
Make your wages later when you're back at his house
Try to hide the mirror 'cause it's never kind
Kick start the heart that's so hard to find
Try to save the beauty and to draw the line
Baby, baby, baby doll
Continue your search for a genuine love
Continue your search for a genuine love
Baby, baby, baby doll
08 The Art of Falling Apart (04:19)
The Art Of Falling Apart
Falling through at the seams
Living life in a dream
Even smiles make a lie
And I smile all the time
I'm skilled at the art
Of falling apart
It's the holding together
Together forever
Trying all of the vices
Is what's doing the damage
All the good things are bad things
And I'm paying the prices
I'm skilled at the art
Of falling apart
It's the holding together
Together forever
I'm covered in bruises
From mixing with losers
It's the black and the blue
That's seeing me through
My cigarette diet
Means my throat hurts like hell
My friends say I'm dying
But I do it so well
I'm skilled at the art
Of falling apart
It's the holding together
Together forever
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