The number of world-bestriding rock bands generated by declining post-industrial British cities in the latter third of the 20th century is a remarkable phenomenon, and if I could be bothered, I’d seek out and read at least one of the many tedious cultural studies dissertations that have purported to analyze and explain it. But any way you slice it, the link between economically moribund, English-speaking hellscapes and fantastic rock music remains absolutely ironclad, to the point where even the usually dimwitted Geordies managed to get in on the act – with two of their luminaries represented on perhaps the most famous song from this album.
But even amidst the likes of Sting and Chris Rea, Dire Straits were absolutely massive, apparently considered the biggest British rock band of the 1980s in some quarters. They certainly had the numbers to back it up: Brothers in Arms sold nine million copies in the US alone, and until quite recently, it spent more time at the top of the Australian charts than any other album in history (though the fact that this record was eventually broken by Adele’s unutterably anodyne 21 possibly casts a more sobering light on that particular achievement).
Still, Dire Straits were behemoths, and Brothers in Arms was their crowning moment, at least commercially. Obviously, a lot of this success was down to the profusion of killer singles. As alluded to above, the record’s biggest hit, “Money for Nothing”, kicks off not with the laconic vocals of wiry, weird, rock’n’roll brain-in-a-jar Mark Knopfler, but with his fellow Geordie Gordon Sumner, who apparently nipped into the recording studio to provide backing vocals before, no doubt, shooting off for six hours of tantric sex, followed by writing and recording a further six-hour world-music inspired solo record about the experience, from which we all benefited.
Actually, “Money for Nothing” is a rather snooty, if brilliantly bombastic, lower-middle-class-kid-made-good takedown of working-class prejudices against rock musicians, which is why Sting, the effete and bohemian petit bourgeois rockstar par excellence, is perfectly suited to it. It’s a classic nonetheless, as are the rest of the singles here – the cocksure and pensive “So Far Away From Me”, the exuberant (if somewhat hammy) “Walk of Life”, and of course, the album’s title track and closer, a 24-carat tearjerker about the Falklands War.
I’m less sure about the album tracks, though, especially considering Brothers in Arms’ pedigree and immense reputation. Maybe the soft guitars and smoky saxophones of “Your Latest Trick” are meant to sound noirish and world-weary but, in my opinion, they sound like the theme tune to a mid-90s low-budget ITV crime drama. Similar criticisms can be levelled at the thoroughly naff “Why Worry”, an electric piano-infused soft rock sack of mush that sounds like something Bob Carlisle would have written and Westlife might have covered. The fact that these songs go on for about 25 minutes doesn’t help matters. Certainly, the part-folk, part-war dirge of “The Man’s Too Strong” or the snappy funk rock of the skittish and cynical “One World” are surer efforts, but they’re not remotely in the same league as the songs we all know and love.
Speaking of which, even several of the undeniably glorious singles appear here in their elongated album forms – an affront to my ADHD-wracked brain, and an area where Dire Straits had unfortunate form, given the exasperating length of songs like “Telegraph Road” from their previous album Love Over Gold (1982). If I want meandering and interminable prog rock (which I don’t), I’ll listen to Genesis or Crimson King (which I won’t) – I come to Dire Straits for mannered, literary, waspish soft-rock radio hits.
All of which makes for a rather mixed, and at points rather unengaging, listening experience, truth be told. And yet there’s no getting away from the sheer majesty of Dire Straits at their best – the swagger and scorn of “Money for Nothing”, the lackadaisical but slightly eerie postcard “So Far Away from Me”, and particularly the stately and desperately sad title track. The fact is, though, that these songs are all on the greatest hits in their 4-minute radio forms, so the listener would be well advised to just buy that while neatly sidestepping the dictionary definition of a “flabby middle section.”
Overall rating: * * *
Standout track: “Brothers in Arms”