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Men at Work: Cargo

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: Columbia Records
Released: 1982
Time:
42:15
Category: Pop/Rock
Producer(s): Peter McIan
Rating: *******... (7/10)
Media type: CD
Web address: www.legacyrecordings.com
Appears with: Colin Hay
Purchase date: 2001.10.01
Price in €: 8,99



 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] Dr. Heckyll & Mr. Jive (Hay) - 4:38
[2] Overkill (Hay) - 3:46
[3] Settle Down My Boy (Strykert) - 3:30
[4] Upstairs in My House (Hay/Strykert) - 4:02
[5] No Sign of Yesterday (Hay) - 6:15
[6] It's a Mistake (Hay) - 4:33
[7] High Wire (Hay) - 3:02
[8] Blue for You (Hay) - 3:55
[9] I Like To (Strykert) - 4:03
[10] No Restrictions (Hay) - 4:31

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


GREG HAM - Flute, Keyboards, Saxophone, Vocals, Wind
COLIN HAY - Guitar, Vocals
JERRY SPEISER - Drums, Vocals
RON STRYKERT - Guitar, Vocals, Artwork
JOHN REES - Bass, Vocals

PETER MCIAN - Engineer
PAUL RAY - Engineer
DAVID PRICE - Assistant Engineer
GREG NOAKES - Photography

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


1982 LP Epic HE-48660
1983 LP Epic 25372
1985 CD CBS CK-38660
1985 CS CBS PCT-38660



Cargo was bashed out fairly quickly, but it its release was delayed because of the success of Men at Work's debut, Business as Usual. Though it was recorded on the road, Cargo is considerably more diverse — but not necessarily more ambitious — than its predecessor. Again, the album is anchored by two extraordinary singles. Fortunately, the soaring ballad "Overkill" and the satiric, anti-nuclear "It's a Mistake" aren't rewrites of "Who Can It Be Now?" and "Down Under," demonstrating more depth than anything on the debut. Despite this growth, the remainder of Cargo is weighed down by filler. "Doctor Heckyll and Mr. Jive" might be goofy fun and "High Wire" and "Blue for You" are tight pop songs, but the rest are simply pleasant, ocassionally embarassing ("I Like To," "Settle Down My Boy"), New Wave pop.

Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All-Music Guide, © 1992 - 2001 AEC One Stop Group, Inc.



In the midst of the most fractious year in recent rock & toll annals, Men at Work burst onto the 1982 music scene like a squadron of Australian Philip Habibs. Everybody liked them. Album-oriented-radio adherents appreciated the guitar-based sound of Business as Usual, young MTV watchers got off on their endearingly zany video personae, and critics cited their reggae-flecked, Police-as-a-five-piece arrangements. I went to a party at a New York dance club where twenty minutes of Fifties classics was interrupted by two Men at Work cuts–and no one sat down. High praise, in my book.

Cargo, the band's second LP, may lack a track with the body-slamming intensity of "Who Can It Be Now" and "Down Under," but song for song, it is a stronger overall effort than Business as Usual. For while Cargo continues to dish out ample portions of the meat-and-potatoes rock & roll that first grabbed U.S. ears last year, it also extends, both lyrically and instrumentally, the darker side of Men at Work's music.

On Cargo, the sense of mild paranoia that informed "Who Can It Be Now" has developed into outright solipsism. "No one knows what I can see and/What I see it pleases me on my roof," ruminates vocalist and chief writer Colin Hay in "Upstairs in My House," and that sentiment pervades the record: a childlike fear of the uncertainties of the outside world and a retreat into a fantasy land of military battles, bizarre science laboratories–anything to fend off reality. You won't find songs about women or love or being on the road on Cargo; these guys have too much trouble leaving the house.

The Men's wariness is best expressed in "Overkill": "I can't get to sleep/I think about the implications," frets Hay in this melancholy raveup. "I worry over situations/I know will be all right/Perhaps it's just imagination." He may appear to be bemoaning his troubles in words more befitting an L.A. singer/songwriter, but the tempo is fast and the band choogles away.

The album's mood is heightened by Peter McIan's production. Ominous footsteps and lab sounds percolate in "Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive," a puckish tale of double identity. The rock-solid rhythm section of John Rees and Jerry Speiser thumps with near-manic urgency, while Greg Ham's unobtrusive flutes and saxes suggest the sort of mental processes that can conjure up the scenarios of "It's a Mistake" ("Tell us, General, is it party time?/If it is, can we all come?") or the sizzling "High Wire" ("Blood on the pillow on my bed/Explains the pain that's in my head.")

But not all of Cargo is doomy portentousness. Second-string writer Ron Strykert – sort of the George Harrison of the bunch – contributes "Settle Down My Boy," a lovely fingerpicking tune that offers both sides of the you-gotta-grow-up dilemma in a wistful, sympathetic setting. Another Strykert composition, "I Like To," is the album's only real clinker, being padded out with needlessly raucous soloing. But even Strykert's protagonist has to "watch the telly/With the sound turned down."

The emotions that play themselves out on Cargo and the energy that gets unleashed in the process remind me of stories I've read about Robin Williams and Andy Kaufman: bright kids who were brought up in sheltered environments and then had to create elaborate, entertaining fantasy worlds to inhabit. In the wrong person's psyche, the kind of isolation that Cargo delineates can turn into neurosis; here, it's foot-tapping fun. No wonder everyone likes them.

CHRISTOPHER CONNELLY - RS 394
© Copyright 2001 RollingStone.com
 

 L y r i c s


DR. HECKYLL & MR. JIVE

Dr. Heckyll works late at the laboratory
Where things are not as they seem
Dr. Heckyll wishes nothing more desperately
Than to fulfill his dreams
Letting loose with a scream in the dead of night
As he's breaking new ground
Trying his best to unlock all the secrets
But he's not sure what he's found

Dr. Heckyll is his own little guinea pig
'Cos they all think he's mad
Sets his sights on the search of a lifetime
And he's never, never sad

Whoa oh, its off to work he goes
In the name of science and all its wonders

This is the story of Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive
They are a person who feels good to be alive
This is the story of Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive
Believes the underdog will eventually survive

Not long now till the ultimate experiment
He's breaking all the rules
He wants to cure all matter of imbalance
In this world of fools

He locks the door and looks around nervously
He knows there's no one there
He drinks it down and waits for some reaction
To all his work and care

Hey, hey he fumbles for what to say
He loves the world except for all the people

This is the story of Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive
They are a person who feels good to be alive
This is the story of Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive
Believes the underdog will eventually survive

Whoa, oh, its out at night he goes
He sips easily into conversation
Hey hey, he's cool in every way
Sometimes he likes to sing that old black magic

This is the story of Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive
They are a person who feels good to be alive
This is the story of Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive
Believes the underdog will eventually survive


OVERKILL

I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
Perahaps its just my imagination

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away

Alone between the sheets
Only brings exasperation
It's time to walk the streets
Smell the desperation

At least there's pretty lights
And though there's little variation
It nullifies the night
From overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away

I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
It's just overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away


SETTLE DOWN MY BOY

Settle down, an eat your peas and gravy, my boy
Settle down, settle down my boy settle down
Stop wasting all your time with running around the town
Settle down, settle down my boy settle down

Knuckle down and find a job and take some responsibility
Settle down, settle down my boy settle down
The future's something you should be thinking about
Settle down, settle down my boy settle down

Look around for a wife to start a family, my boy
Settle down, settle down my boy settle down
Listen toy our father and he'll tell you the same as me
Settle down, settle down my boy settle down

Your words would go in one ear and out the other side
Don't say my head was empty and I had things to hide

And you better put something away for your old age
So settle down, settle down my boy settle down
Settle down, settle down my boy settle down uh huh huh


UPSTAIRS IN MY HOUSE

No one knows what I can see and and what I see it pleases me on my roof
South Pacific hot sea pool, Coney Island amusement school for mispent youth
Its all in my own front yard, seagulls grazing in the park and foreshore
South-East wind pins back my ears, Luna Park lights up the years of painless days

I like it, upstairs in my house

Dealers selling junk and trash, people spend their hard earned cash on Sundays
Its quiet when they fade away, Westgate Bridge breakes up the day, into red sky

I like it, upstairs in my house, upstairs in my house

No one knows what I can see and what I see it pleases me on my roof

I like it, upstairs in my house, upstairs in my house


NO SIGN OF YESTERDAY

Pull out the stop plugs, drain all the waste
Who needs it anyway
Fill all the big holes, leave no trace
No sign of yesterday

I was all the dishes and I clean up my place
No sign of yesterday
I stare at the photographs of your dark face
No sign of yesterday

Out in the yard, was such a lovely place
It's where we used to play
Inside, outside you can feel and taste.
No sign of yesterday

And I can't hear you calling
I can't hear you calling
I can't hear you anymore
Metal ships are falling
This old car keeps stalling
Always seems to be the way

Pick up the pieces, and go dig out the dead
Then you can go to bed
Night is the stealer and time is the test
No sign of yesterday

Pull out the stop plugs, drain all the waste
Who needs it anyway
Fill all the big holes, leave no trace
No sign of yesterday

And I can't hear you calling
I can't hear you calling
I can't hear you anymore
Metal ships are falling
This old car keeps stalling
Always seems to be the way


IT'S A MISTAKE

Jump down the shelters to get away
The boys are cockin' up their guns
Tell us general, is it party time?
If it is can we all come

Don't think that we don't know
Don't think that we're not trying
Don't think we move too slow
It's no use after crying
Saying

It's a mistake, it's a mistake
It's a mistake, it's a mistake

After the laughter as died away
And all the boys have had their fun
No surface noise now, not much to say
They've got the bad guys on the run

Don't try to say you're sorry
Don't say he drew his gun
They've gone and grabbed old Ronnie
He's not the only one saying

It's a mistake, it's a mistake
It's a mistake, it's a mistake

Tell us commander, what do you think?
'Cos we know that you love all that power
Is it on then, are we on the brink?
We wish you'd all throw in the towel

We'll not fade out too soon
Not in this finest hour
Whistle your favourite tune
We'll send a card and flower
Saying

It's a mistake, it's a mistake
It's a mistake, it's a mistake


HIGH WIRE

Feel so washed up today
Haven't really got much to say

Blood on the pillow of my bed
Explains the pain thats in my head

Sometimes I don't know which way to go
Sometimes I can't tell, but it's just as well
'Cos I'm walking on a high wire
High wire

Oh won't someone let me in
I'm stinking and I'm full of gin
No need to close the door so fast
I'm very fragile not built to last

Sometimes I don't know which way to go
Soetimes I can't tell
But it's just as well
'Cos I'm walking on a high wire
Diving through the ring of fire
High wire

Have to pull it together
We're in for some stormy weather
Have to pull it together
We're in for some nasty weather
High wire, high wire

It really isn't too much fun
Sitting round waiting for the night to come
It's almost time to put on my suit of cool
I may be an idiot but indeed I am no fool

Sometimes I don't know which way to go
Someties I can't tell but it's just as well
'Cos I'm walking on a high wire


BLUE FOR YOU

Sometimes the sun shines
And I close the blinds
'Cos I can't stand to see the light of day
 I have no use for pain
But I don't mind the rain
'Cos I can stare outside and hear the sound
Today I looked right down  to the ground
With nothing in between to break my fall
I'm blue for you, blue for you
I don't know what to do

CHORUS
Gotta form a plan of attack
Can't stop to look back I know
You are so far from here
Gotta be strong in my mind
Not encroach on your time I know that
That would be wrong for sure

I must get out and about
Of that I have no doubt
There surely must be new places to go
Sights I've never seen
All with pastures green
'Cos the old ones are making me blue for you
'Cos I'm blue for you, blue for you
I don't know what to do
And I'm blue for you, blue for you
I don't know what to do

Gotta form a plan of attack
Climb back on the track I know
Bid my devil friend good-bye
Hope I'm still in the race
But I don't know whaat to chase oh no
And you're still so far from here

The sun it still shines in
And I shall close the blinds
'Cos I know I won't see you anymore, see you anymore
And I'm blue for you, blue for you
I don't know what to do
'Cos I'm blue for you, blue for you
I don't know what to do
I don't know
I could take a big jump


I LIKE TO

I like to pull the plug in the tub
Sit and watch the water flow down the drain
I like to, I like to
I like to look at pictures in a book
Never read the writing just put it down
I like to, I like to

I'd really like to know
What would you like to do
I'd really like to

I like to watch the telly
With the sound turned down
Listen to the stereo
Turn the channels around
I like to, I like to
I like to eat a sandwich with the lot, yum yum
Putting on everything that 've got
I like to, I like to

I'd really like to know
What would you like to do
I'd really like to


NO RESTRICTIONS

Give me no restrictions on what I do or say
Don't speak of tomorrow when it's still today
Leave me to my selfish ways, I'm well enough alone
That is what I tell myself as I stumble home
Derelict across the street in the garbage bin
Looks like he's found something neat judging by his grin
Such a long long way to go, hope I get there soon
Wish I could jump a great height and land in my front room

Whoa-oh-oh-Whoa-oh-oh

Wake up in the morning make sure I'm still alive
Percolate the coffee opens up my eyes
Hear the cricket calling switch on  the TV
Sit and stare for hours and cheer Dennis Lillee

Whoa-oh-oh-Whoa-oh-oh

Through the de-restriction zone we pass a long wide load
Laugh at the reflections of cat's eyes on the road
Freeways hypnotize me, up up and away
Hope we make it home tonight
Be that as it may

Whoa-oh-oh-Whoa-oh-oh

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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