30 Years Ago: Was Models' Commercial Peak Also Their Death Knell?

The career high water mark of esteemed Aussie outfit the Models happened 30 years ago this month, but there’s a school of thought prevalent that the album also caused their eventual demise. The AllMusic review of the Models’ 1985 fourth album Out Of Mind Out Of Sight (by Steve “Spaz” Schnee) paints an interesting album narrative; “Sometimes change is good – sometimes. The Models’ Out Of Mind Out Of Sight is not necessarily one of those time. Not that this is a bad album, but the Models were doing fine before the addition of talented bassist/vocalist James Freud and their switch from quirky rock to white funk. Led by Sean Kelly, the Models had a small catalog of intelligent art rock releases… before Freud joined for the slightly more commercial Pleasure Of Your Company album. From there, they released this platter of muscular funk rock that sounds like a crass attempt to sound just like and sell just as many albums as INXS. Brining in a talent equal to Kelly’s was a smart move, but allowing Freud equal time on the record was another issue. In fact, Freud gets top billing about Kelly on this album, only his second with the Models. There are some great songs on display here, including Stormy Tonight, Big On Love, Barbados and King Of Kings but when the band kicks into funk mode, the sound is not unlike INXS outtakes. The title track was a huge worldwide hit single for the Models, and they certainly deserved it. They may have gained a whole new group of fans with this album, but they lost a large portion of their core followers and were never able to recover, breaking up just one album later.”

 

Spaz proceeds to give the album 2 ½ stars (which is clearly unders), but how much of the rest of his story holds up to close scrutiny?

 

For a start this summation devalues the history of the relationship between the core Models (at this juncture), Sean Kelly and James Freud. The two had been friends since high school and first come to prominence in the late-‘70s with their outfit Teenage Radio Stars, who were contemporaries of bands like The Boys Next Door in the Melbourne punk/new wave scene. Yet their musical predilections eventually diverged and Kelly split in August, 1978 to start Models, well before his old band – now operating as James Freud & The Radio Stars – had their sole hit Modern Girl in May, 1980. Bassist Peter Sutcliffe (aka Pierre Voltaire) from the original line-up of Teenage Radio Stars was onboard – along with Ash Wednesday (keys) and Janis Friedenfelds (aka Johnny Crash) – although from the get-go the Models’ line-up was a fluid one, with a revolving door of line-up changes for the next couple of years.

 

From the outset Models were more of a pop proposition than their contemporaries even though there was an art-tinged quirkiness defining much of their early material, along with washes of dub and glam-rock. By late-1980 they line-up of Kelly, Crash, Andrew Duffield (keys) and Mark Ferrie (bass) released the band’s debut album Alphabravocharliedeltaechofoxtrotgolf on the then-burgeoning Mushroom Records. In 1981 they signed an international deal with A&M records (after impressing on an Aussie tour supporting The Police) and decamped to London to record second album Local And/Or General (Crash having by now been replaced by Mark Hough from NZ band The Swingers, the mob responsible for hit single Counting The Beat). By this stage the Models had received plenty of radio play and were a strong live drawcard, but were still without a major hit. 

 

Around this time James Freud (born Colin McGlinchey) re-entered the frame. He’d recorded some backing vocals on Models’ 1981 mini-album Cut Lunch, but it wasn’t until 1982 that he joined the band full-time on bass) with drummer Barton Price now rounding out the line-up. Freud’s pop sensibilities became apparent immediately, although this augmented the Models’ existing sound rather than overhauling it entirely. Kelly recently espoused to Mess & Noise’s Doug Wallen (Icons: Models, Dec 2013): “…we’d always been described as too poppy and… a sell-out or something, so it was amusing when James joined the band. I think he, to a certain extent, was able to distil the sound of the band with his writing. People acted as if we’d never attempted to play any pop music in our lives, which was amazing.”

 

This line-up’s first release was 1983’s The Pleasure Of Your Company album, which was recorded with UK producer Nick Launay. A combination of Launay’s drum-heavy production style, Freud’s vocals – which were much cleaner than Kelly’s strangled singing – and a good batch of songs gave the album a more accessible edge, and buoyed by the success of single I Hear Motion (which climbed to #16 on the national singles chart) the album reached #12 on the Australian charts.

 

Yet Kelly was unhappy with how the band was proceeding and started to withdraw, apparently going as far as rehearsing a whole new band to start a new project from scratch before Mushroom stepped in and said that they were flying in American producer Reggie Lucas (who’d just become famous for producing the bulk of Madonna’s first album) solely to work with Models. The session was fractious by all accounts but they recorded their next single Big On Love, which charted (peaking at #24) and reignited the fire in the band’s belly. In this same session Freud heard Duffield playing around with some calypso music and was inspired to write the lyrics for what would become Barbados (although they couldn’t cut a version they liked with Lucas at the helm and eventually finished it with local producer Mark Opitz). 

 

 

Around this time Spaz’s assertion that Models were trying to copy INXS comes into play. In his 2002 memoir I Am The Voice Left From Drinking (a line from Barbados), Freud – who sadly passed away in 2010 – remembers. “[Big On Love] didn’t really make much impact on the charts, but it was a turntable hit – it got lots of airplay on radio. Something was definitely missing and we knew it was the right management.” The man they wanted was INXS’ manager Chris Murphy, who had just helped them leap to the big time on 1984’s mash The Swing album (which coincidentally featured Models Kelly and Duffield on backing vocals). Freud recalled, “We had become close friends with INXS and they insisted that Chris take a closer look at us. But he was already very much aware of what was going on in Modeltown”.

 

The first casualty of this quest for mainstream acceptance was Duffield, who was antagonistic towards Murphy from the outset because, according to Freud, “We wanted worldwide success and Andrew wanted to maintain artistic credibility and the approval of his peers… Andrew brought a lot of quirkiness to the group: in his music, his art direction and his uncompromising enthusiasm. He would be missed, but we knew it was time to make some changes. We decided to go with Chris Murphy.” The fact that Duffield was unceremoniously dumped – soon replaced by James Valentine on sax and Roger Mason (ex-Teenage Radio Stars) on keys – and the Models moved from Melbourne to Sydney to be near Murphy probably tends to back up Spaz’s assertion that they did indeed have their eye on the big prize. They changed their image to from a more debonair, classy vibe to a rougher, more leather-dominated look at this point, another aspect that prompted INXS comparisons;

 

 

 

At this point they roped in local producer Opitz (Cold Chisel, Australian Crawl, INXS) to have another crack at nailing Barbados. The song – despite its sunny calypso vibe – was actually super-dark lyrically, about drinking one’s way out of a doomed relationship. They eventually captured the vibe they were after, released the single and sat back as it quickly stormed up the charts (only stalling at #2 because of the We Are The World charity single which was so ubiquitous at the time).

 

 

Now they already had two charting singles for what would become the Out Of Mind Out Of Sight album, except Freud recalling Murphy having other ideas for he and Kelly first: “We were ready to hit the studio to record our new album, so Chris arranged a nightmarish trip for Sean and me: around the world in 12 days. One day in Singapore, two in Tokyo, three in LA, three in New York, three in London, then home. The theory was that we would have a grasp on what was happening on the international scene, so our album would hopefully have some relevance to the rest of the world… It seemed like a great idea, except that we were jetlagged out of our brains the whole time.” Talk about ambitious!

 

On their return they decided to stay with Opitz (due to the success the partnership had spawned with Barbados) to maximise the project’s commercial viability. Freud remembers, “People were treating us differently and we dug it. We were starting to get covers of magazines and stacks of press and all we needed was another hit to really capitalise on it… Out Of Mind Out Of Sight was the first track we cut for the album. We labored over it because it had to be just right.” On its release in 1985 the single – according to Ian McFarlane (Encyclopedia Of Australian Rock and Pop) – “shot to #1 on the national chart during August, establishing Models as certified pop stars. The song was written and sung by Freud, and was an energetic distillation of his glam-pop roots and the band’s brassy R&B predilections. It was the only Australian-recorded single to attain #1 status during 1985.”

 

 

Freud further backs up Spaz’s assertion that there was a large backlash against the Models’ sudden success, arguing, “The day the Out Of Mind Out Of Sight single was dropped in the laps of radio programmers all over Australia, it had a twofold effect. Firstly, it was immediately added to just about every playlist in the country. Secondly, we instantly became pop-pariahs, with the so-called credible rock journalists baying for our blood. ‘Where are the quirky Models of old?’ they cried, in their foul-smelling brown chords. The words ‘James Freud has turned them into a pop band!’ echoed from coast to coast. We were shocked by the response… the press were so infuriated that one magazine even went to the trouble of putting two reviews of the song on the one page. Apparently, one review wasn’t enough to truly capture the anger… We had suddenly become a teen band.”

 

It was this sudden crossover success of Barbados and the album’s title track that sunk it for the Models, not the album per se. Out Of Mind Out Of Sight spawned two more singles – Cold Fever (#36) and King Of Kings (#96) – but neither set the world on fire. The album peaked at #3 on the Australian album charts and made the band bona fide stars in their home country, but the wheels were teetering and about to come off. In 1985 Gary Gersh from Geffen Records signed the Models for the US (Freud offering, “our future seemed to be one of megastardom”), but the band were fraying at the edges, Freud continuing, “We we all worn out after two years of constant touring and recording and needed a break. Chris [Murphy], on the other hand, had a long-term plan for us and thought we needed to capitalise on our success by putting out another album… we hadn’t even written the thing yet.” The pressure was building.

 

Out Of Mind Out Of Sight was released in the States in mid-’86, the album reaching a respectable #84 on the Billboard charts while the title track reached #37 on the singles chart (funnily enough meaning that you can find the Models on some American lists of ‘one hit wonders’). Kelly recalls to Wallen of this period, “We toured around America as the support act for Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark. When Out Of Mind Out Of Sight came out we also did our own little that basically took in a pretty broad range of cities around the States. All the major places. Our single Out Of Mind Out Of Sight went to #36 (sic) on the Billboard 100, so we made a bit of an impression. The interesting thing about the Out Of Mind Out Of Sight release in America is that it was actually available as an import on a lot of campus radios. It was picked up almost as an indie import and played, which has got to be the most amazing irony because, y’know, back here in Australia when we put that album out we were lampooned in some ways for daring to put out such a commercial-sounding release. It was a big hit here, which was nice, but, geez, it’s hard to forget when you have the media and all sorts of critics putting the boots into you. So it was ironic that, elsewhere in the world, it was perceived as being quite arty and alternative.”

 

The band eventually went over to the UK to record what would be their final album, Models’ Media (1986), which stalled at #30 on the Australian album charts, and by 1988 the dream was over. There have been a few versions of the band reunite over the years, and in 2010 the Models were inducted into the ARIA Hall Of Fame, but that was pretty much game over for the band’s initial tenure.

 

So was Spaz right? In part, although his grade is certainly too tough and his assertion that the album was a “crass attempt to sound like and sell just as many albums as INXS” is debatable, despite Murphy’s heavy involvement. But he was spot on in regards to Freud’s heavier presence on Out Of Mind Out Of Sight – he did write and sing the two smash hits – and also about the backlash that the Models suffered post their success. It’s a cool album, and despite there being a heavily-dated ‘80s production sound (and a surplus of saxophone, which for some reason was cherished in that decade), it’s actually held up pretty well over the intervening three decades. Out Of Mind Out Of Sight was the high water mark for the Models and possibly also their death knell, making it a fascinating part of the tapestry of Australian rock’n’roll history (and possibly also a life lesson in being careful what you wish for).

The Meldrum Tapes – Molly Meldrum Interviews The Models (1986)