TAPE Me Back To The Future — MADE For Tape # 3: Seal, “Seal” (1991)
An occasional series here that celebrates the cassette-tape format in all its glory. Wobbles and all…
There were a couple of late 80s/early 90s British singers that had a huge impact on me, and I just don’t know where they came from, they simply arrived. Neneh Cherry is one example. Another is Seal. He was suddenly on the radio all the time, especially his killer song, Crazy. But also that crazy song, Killer. They were the one-two punch of the album, the centrepiece, the hinge. And the album was huge.
A few years later he would issue another self-titled album. And it was huge too. They had different covers, and were released in different years, but they were both called Seal — we started to know them as Seal 1 and 2, and I had them on a double-pack CD. But before that, I had the Seal album (when there was only one) on cassette. I loved the way the cover stood sideways.
That was a new one for me, and I had to remember to turn the cover sideways to display it when I played it. Whenever I had a tape in, the cover stood proudly as if I was promoting what was on the stereo. And of course I was. It was just in my room, to no one else — and only to me.
The lyrics on the Seal album don’t mean much, are often nonsense, but he sings so well it’s almost as if he imbues a meaning that really isn’t there.
The other reason I loved — and still love — this album is the production. Trevor Horn was famous for the Frankie Goes To Hollywood album (a masterpiece). And a few other things besides. He got that big, big sound for Yes’ Owner Of A Lonely Heart, and ABC and Grace Jones. Some people refer to him as “The Man That Invented the 1980s” and I think, thinking about it now, he was probably the first producer I was aware of; the first, at least, that I “followed”, buying albums because of his involvement. That was certainly the case with Seal. I remember being slightly embarrassed to own this album at first — it was weird in Hawke’s Bay in the late 80s and early 90s, you were “gay” if you liked a lot of pop music or female singers, or certain male singers. It was interesting — because some of the people that called you “gay” were only into hair metal music, and bands like Queen. (
Anyway, that was just a weird hang up of the time. You didn’t want to be called “gay” — it was the hugest insult. And we flung that around at anyone and everyone. We didn’t like being called it, and as a way of coping, we’d call other people it, you know, to teach them a lesson…
But Seal was guilty pleasure music for sure. I never told anyone I was a fan, even though his music was all over the radio. I didn’t quite hide the album but I don’t remember boasting about it. Still, when I put it on and played it, the sound felt enormous. His voice filled the room. And that Trevor Horn production. It felt like music being beamed down from space, being sent to my room from another world entirely.
And then I ditched the tape really quickly. Bought the double CD that held the first two albums. And never cared about Seal shortly after that. I can’t say I know any of his other albums. Though I briefly owned 1998’s Human Being. I just couldn’t tell you anything about it — beyond my decision that it was underwhelming. I’ve never felt an urge to revisit it, nor reevaluate that opinion.
But I have often thought about how I’d like that double-pack CD of the first two albums once again. Even if Kiss From A Rose has been ruined for life. And then I found this cassette copy of Seal (1991). And I’ve listened to it quite a bit in just a few short weeks. It’s a strange little masterpiece, that sounds better now than I would ever have thought. And I will totally say that’s because of Horn. But Seal’s voice was like an instrument. And so I’m happy to own this — perhaps particularly on this format. Seems it was, in that sense, made for tape indeed.
