Munich in the snow. Happy, welcoming gateway to the ski resorts of northern
Europe ... and it's a bit cold. The temperature falls to minus 21 and it
actually hurts to breathe. These are the conditions in which Tears for Fears
are finishing their second album.

"You'll love the title," says Roland Orzabal.

'Songs from the big Chair' is, indeed, quite a name. It's taken from the TV
film 'Sybil' about a girl with 16 different personalities and the 'big
chair' was the only place she felt safe and comfortable. Dear Tears for
Fears .... as deep as ever.

"Well," agreed Roland, "I am a very deep person."

Outside the hotel where the group have been staying for most of the past
month, Curt and Roland stroll through the snow drifts. A horse and a
carriage, complete with jingle bells, rushes part, skiers ski and the only
colour on the white carpet of snow is the rancid yellow where numerous
German dogs have been doing what dogs do.

"If you get frostbite on your willy you should stick it in a glass of
brandy," Curt reveals helpfully.

Tears for Fears are continuing to be a pain in the arse and coming up with
hits. With 'Shout' sliding into the top 10, people just won't stop buying
their records - that's the problem.

With no sharp marketing campaigns behind them, no strong image and well,
Curt and Rol are hardly the most photogenic of people, their singles must
sell because of the music. Strange.

Since 'Mad World', only 'The Way You Are' has 'flopped' for the duo. It got
to number 24. An impressive record for a band that everyone who 'knows
anything at all about music' (yawn) dismiss as Big Girls' Blouses.
DEPRESSING Big Girls' Blouses. And Roland would be the first to agree.

"We don't really go clubbing or anything like that," he mopes. "We just sit
in our hotel rooms crying."

Curt nods sagely. "We have to work hard at getting depressed, it's not easy.
I've been taking lessons from Morrissey."

Roland's full name is Roland Jaime Orzabal de la Quintana. Curt recalls that
the first time he met his partner he thought he was over on a French
exchange trip "because he looked foreign".

"And the fact I said 'bonjour'," adds Roland deadpanly. "We kind of got on
right away though, because we're, like, the same height."

Much of their friendship was spent trying to find uses for the various
curious Curt had a habit of stealing.

"Curt gave me a Christmas present once," Roland explains. "It was three
violins he's nicked from the music department at school. I was desperately
trying to learn how to play the things, just to justify the act."

"It was just how I got my kicks really," Curt explains happily. "Then you
discover why you're doing it and you stop. I just wanted attention really.
When you get that close to being put away you think again. It scared the
shit out of me." But what sort of things did he take?

"Well, violins - violins were pretty happening things."

In Germany, Tears for Fears are known as the Human League of Emotion. Curt
and Roland have a good giggle at this, but at least it's a change from their
'sixth form poet' label in Britain.

"In England," muses Roland, "people are more cynical. If you say what you
feel, it's disapproved of because it's always best to keep a stiff upper
lip."

"In America, they're all f****d up anyway - and they're really into it. They
point out things to you like, 'Your album - the first line is, Is it an
horrific dream? and the last is, Is this the start of the breakdown? Now,
what do you mean by this?'"

"There's a bit of backward singing on 'Pale Shelter' and people thought it
meant, 'Curt Smith is dead'. And we had loads of letters saying, 'Curt Smith
is dead'."

"And I was. I came out of it alright, though. I was dead from the age of six
actually. It comes from being born ego first."

Later that evening we drive to a local hostelry where Curt and
Roland sample some traditional German cuisine. In the car it's so cold the
windows have frozen up on the inside. As we get out a dog that looks like
it's got a touch of rabies lurches down the street.

Curt and Roland are having to force themselves to drink the three quarters
of a litre of lager (the other quarter being froth) that they are handed.
The talk turns to chickens. Earlier, Curt had told of the time he appeared
with Steve Harvey on 'Pop Quiz' and the subject of our feathered friends had
first arisen.

"I went out for a meal with him afterwards. It was quite pleasant at first,
but has that guy got a chip on his shoulder. He slagged me off for living in
the West Country, because 'you have to live in the centre of all the
killings and muggings to be creative. Since Peter Gabriel's lived in the
West Country apparently, he's only written songs about chickens!'"

Not a wise move that by Harley, seeing as Curt and Gabriel are neighbours
and the Tears for Fears man obviously has a lot of respect and affection for
the man.

"These were Harley's very words," he continues, "yeah, but what can you
write about down there ... chickens?"

Roland then begins to explain how, as the 'artistic' one in the group, he
finds inspiration.

"I wake up in the morning really nervous and tense and start banging out
rhythms. Then I walk into the dining room and start a bit of body popping in
front of the mirror - just to get into the beat, you know."

"Then I start all over again because it's HAPPY - and you don't want a HAPPY
song. So I start something miserable ... and I'm off. I think 'Shout''s a
very happy song though," he continues. "Yes. Definitely. Is it?"

"It's not happy, Rol," Curt tells him.

"Well, there is a happy song on the album," his partner counters.
"'Everybody wants to rule the world'. It's very jolly - nice beat. There's a
really good song called 'I Believe'. That's happy."

He begins to quote dramatically. It doesn't sound very happy. "'I believe,
no, I can't believe, that every time you hear a newborn scream, you just
can't see the shaping of a life.' That's pretty happy."

"I mean, I certainly don't think our lyrics are 'poetry'. Take them on their
own and they're really naff. There's nothing artistic about Tears for Fears.
It's far too fish and chips."

And as he and Curt compete with each other to flick their beer mats onto the
rim of their oversized glasses you see exactly what he means.

Story: Eleanor Levy