Some people who I knew back in the 1980s thought Ultravox had “sold out” when they released the ultra-catchy ‘Dancing With Tears In My Eyes‘ but that misguided view was somewhat baffling to me, as the band had always released great pop records, even in their early days with John Foxx at the helm. Lament was arguably the pinnacle of their commerciality (despite the earlier ‘Vienna‘ being by far their most famous song), so it’s actually quite funny to listen back and realise just how dark the record was. If we are to needlessly categorise everything into little labelled boxes, then ‘pop’ it most definitely is not.
Take ‘One Small Day‘ for example. It sounds utterly imperious (in a good way), even 40 years later – jubilant, fists in the air stuff, yet it’s a song about battling depression. And the aforementioned ‘Dancing With Tears In My Eyes‘, of course, relates to the fear of the possibility that there will be a nuclear war. It’s way more effective – not to mention more emotionally wrought – when you realise this. The title track is hardly a barrel of laughs either: “And just as my eyes start seeing, after all the pain / The twist in my life starts healing, just to twist again / In stillness, in sorrow returns that softly sighing lament.” A gorgeous record, undoubtedly, but also quite devastating. You’d never have expected this from the opening strains of ‘White China‘, which begins the record. We’re lulled into a false sense of security with a toe-tapping slice of electropop, although if you read the lyrics while listening, you’re perhaps better prepared for what’s to come.
The gloom – and it is a glorious kind of gloom – an aching beauty, if you will – doesn’t exactly subside on the second half of Lament with ‘Man Of Two Worlds‘, but the Gaelic vocals provided by Mae McKenna make this track stand out as particularly memorable in its elegance. The contempt held by Midge Ure for the political peers of the time is understandably palpable in ‘Heart Of The Country‘, its melody harking back a little to the paranoia of ‘The Thin Wall‘ a few years before.
‘When The Time Comes‘ is the mother of all break-up songs, perfectly reflecting that awful feeling when you know the relationship is doomed and you’re basically on tenterhooks just waiting for that moment to finally arrive. Then, in a moment of pure genius, the record closes with ‘A Friend I Call Desire‘ which exposes all the worst male traits in its narrator, and his apparent helplessness to control them. Only Ultravox could end on such a note and still make you feel great.
So that’s the original album from a staggering forty years ago now, and today, this deluxe edition comes packed with further mixes from icons like Steven Wilson and Moby, as well as Blank & Jones, and comprises not only the original mix and a new stereo one of the original album, but also singles, B-sides, and two discs of the band’s 1984 Set Movements recording from Hammersmith Odeon. It’s a staggering set of one of the great albums of the decade, and it looks fabulous too. Another must-have, in a year that’s seemingly chock-full of them.
