Oh, for the time when the name Tears For Fears indicated more than one
group member. For those days when Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith could stay
in the same room and not scurry into corners, scribbling nasty little
lyrics about each other. For the times when you could pick up a TFF release
and not get a blister off the bitterness inside.

Not since 1989 have we heard the pair together in the sound that
crystallized their image. They used to balance the other's voice, cancel
out each other's demons. They bore out their brother's weakness. In such a
pairing, opposites often repel. In Orzabal and Smith's case today,
listeners get the sense the boys would prefer to stand on the opposite
poles of the earth and not come one step closer.

Sadly, the musicianship between the two is gone. But we do have a literal
record of a kinder, gentler TFF. Beyond the pain of The Hurting and the
mellowed Songs From The Big Chair, The Seeds of Love remains as a fantastic
testament to an even-keeled, fully-rounded TFF.

Don't pick it up if you're looking for a lullaby. You don't listen to TFF
to get happy. You listen to TFF because the music freely explores
frustration and pain, goes on strong in spite of it. As a fine example of
TFF philosophy, Seeds never was cotton ball soft. Even the sweetly-sung
"Advice for the Young at Heart" carries a hidden edge, a fast realization
of time and what it can do to innocence, dreams.

Seeds didn't get heavy airplay. If you weren't watching TFF in particular,
you might have missed it altogether. If you were watching, you saw the rise
of "Sowing the Seeds of Love" and listened to how politically forward and
open-minded "Woman in Chains" (featuring Oleta Adams) was for its time.

What went unnoticed by the larger public was the level of musicianship
exhibited throughout the album and pointedly in three separate songs,
notably the masterfully built "Badman's Song". Someone had the vision to
let this one run until it said everything it had to say; as is, the track
lasts over eight minutes. Incorporating strains of rock, blues and southern
gospel, "Badman's Song" goes beyond any one classification into the simple
realm of great songs. The gritty, wistful truths of "Swords and Knives"
also stands as a testament to the album's diversity. When Orzabal gently
sings "When life beings/With needles and pins/It ends with swords and
knives," against a backdrop of piano and guitar, you'll put down whatever
you're doing and listen. The trilogy finishes with "Year of the Knife", a
thick little slice of rock n' roll that lists Phil Collins in the drumming
credits. "Feel the mountains rumble/Feel the fire go cold/Summer will turn
to winter/Love will turn to stone," they sing in one line, and the tone is
eerily prophetic.

After Seeds, there was only one Tear. Not too much has been said publicly
about the rivalry between Orzabal and Smith - but check out Orzabal's "Fish
Out of Water" track off the eloquent, hard-edged Elemental. As he sings
"Down in Neptune's kitchen/You'll be food for killer whales," you get the
feeling you're in on the fight. And from Smith's recent release as the new
group Mayfield, you hear the other side of the story. "A small imbalanced
vain we close/You use the planets to excuse/Your costumed smile/Your
childish abuse," Smith croons in "Sun King". All bets down.

Fortunately, Orzabal didn't give up his guitar. His talent echoesthroughout
Elemental and the exceedingly acidic, deliciously bad Raoul and
the Kings of Spain. His sense of composition and rhythm is well-oiled as
ever. But without Smith's tempering kindness, he's stuck in a spiral of
finger-pointing and hate. Lacking Smith's hazy, gentle voice, Orzabal's
biceps-for-vocal-cords sound grows unchecked.

The opposite is true of Smith. Sans Orzabal's decisive tempos and no-doubt
songwriting, he appears somewhat aimless. Minus Orzabal's vocal strength,
Smith's tone is a touch airy. But you hear the sweetness, and the artistic
endeavor that entrenched him so firmly as the ideal behind "Everybody Wants
to Rule the World," and it's a welcome return to the airwaves.

So much for togetherness. Although you hear tones of regret and remorse
over past stances in both Orzabal's and Smith's current work, Seeds is
still a fine exhibit of Fears now torn apart. It's generally available on
CD. Consider it the pivotal work of this landmark partnership.

Review by Sylvia Musgrove