Cher - I Paralyze (1982)

Back when it was her chart positions that were paralyzed and not her face, Cher's start to the 1980s was a period of musical uncertainty. She was still keeping Chastity and Elijah locked up in her Vegas dressing room, but as a chart force it seemed as if the only way to get a hit was to grit her teeth and compromise. After pouring her soul into the Stars album and arguably letting her paranoia about musical credibility get the better of her on the largely forgotten Black Rose project, it must have felt as if other people had been dictating to the singer exactly who she should be. However, there was hope - recording a kinetic rock duet called Dead Ringer For Love with Meatloaf turned out to be a top 5 UK hit that endures to this day (it was a furious performance from both of them, and Cher introduces the rough-minded tart with a heart persona in the fantastic music video). Released the following year on her 1 album tenure with Columbia, I Paralyze bizarrely overlooked the opportunity to include her recent hit single (however, it is worth noting that the song never took off in the States), but the sound of the LP is one of renewed confidence, style and sophistication with a contemporary pop sheen lacking in her previous rock project. It is hard to speculate on whether the album was a flop or simply a missed opportunity: on the one hand, it was promoted on television (Cher could still command a lot of attention on this medium); and on the other hand, such publicity duties were cut short when her acting career was truly taking off with a stint on Broadway, which understandably took higher priority as finally the critics were cutting her some slack. Be that as it may, the album is by far the strongest of her 4 albums released in the 80s (compared to her 11 studio sets from the 70s). Straddling the line between her glamorous 60s and 70s past and the biker chick rock-pop that would consume her next three albums, the the album is a decisive return to form, and a benchmark for which her subsequent Geffen blockbusters would fail to match. Tom Kelly of Cyndi Lauper's True Colours and Madonna's Like A Virgin fame is on backing vocals.

The 3 strikes & you're out rule clearly hasn't applied to Cher's career.

Spangly 60s girl-group pastiche Rudy is both nostalgic and glorious, decorated with rousing guitars and splashings of piano that propel the huge chorus to sparkling effect. Turning the tempo down a notch, Games is a broody Pointer Sisters style ballad (think Slowhand meets Fire) with its sensual angst and melodic stencil. Earning her female Elvis tag, I Paralyze boasts her trademark buoyant charisma that makes lines such as "you're as real as a dollar bill" such a hoot. Produced by John Farrar and co-written by himself and Steve Kipner (Olvia Newton-John's Physical), "leave the modesty to someone else" is all Cher, and sung with a sort of soothing sleaze. She stated on her VH1's Behind The Music that the song remains a favourite of hers: "I loved it then, and I still love it now, and I want to re-record it". We're still waiting, Cher. 



Her token torch ballad When The Love Is Gone truly shines, and deserves recognition. It's a very fine power-ballad indeed, but is relatively restrained compared to the dime-a-dozen choruses she would be churning out by the end of the decade. Ironically, it was written by Desmond Child, which makes it all the more galling that he never gave her anything quite like this ever again. Her carefully modulated candor of troubled innocence facing up to life's wounds is full of plaintive pleasure.

Seething street-walking anthem Back On The Street Again is a pavement-pounding power-rock life anthem. Turning tricks with a tinge of ABBA's Gimme Gimme Gimme disco muscle to its chugging bass-synth foundation that absorbs the melodic thunderousness of it all. The galloping chorus is one of her very biggest. Her tremorring terror as she squawks about being "down for the count" release all the highly charged adrenaline and nervous excitement one could ask for as she devours the lyrics with all the resistance of a food blender.  

The swooning gospel-tinged Walk With Me is a wistful gem that was b-side to the title track. Delivered in a soulful croak, the chorus's rueful whimsy surfs the album's strongest pop wave  It positively glides with a disarming generosity: "take my hand and walk with me" could only be more touching if it were a gay pride march anthem. Moving up a gear, The Book of Love and Say What's On Your Mind are there to be enjoyed with Cher delivering some fantastic quips, such as the goofy heckle of "ahh stupid cupid!", but are not the best on offer. Then again, she's hardly a stranger to filler, but only narrowly avoids injecting her album with them here. With its tender country blues, Do I Ever Cross Your Mind is an atypically soft and lovely closer, and has a near stream-of-conscious quality. The ruefully blissed out dreamscape came as a huge surprise the first time I heard it.

Living proof that you cannot write off any period of her career: the glossy textures of I Paralyze have a more emphatic pop dimension than all her other 80s albums, where the songs are tailored with electronic extensions and a faintly retro-obsessed orchestration, with almost every song being a grand prize. Crippling all expectations, I Paralyze proves her critics don't have a leg to stand on.

Cher - I Paralyze (1982)

So I have been having an intense day (musically speaking) enjoying the rush of excitement caused by Cher firing out her dance-meteorite Woman's World to an unsuspecting internet community. There have been many incarnations enjoyed by the singer, with no era being artistically fruitless. Back in the early 80s before kick-starting her first main solo comeback as an actress, rock star, mom and cougar, her musical identity for the rest of the decade was already emerging.  An that of straddles the line between Cher's glamourous 60s and 70s past and the biker rock chick mom persona is the I Paralyze album, which is gem after gem and does it without sounding contrived like a lot of the subsequent 80s stuff did. The 60s girl-group pastiche Rudy is nostalgic and glorious, Games is a broody Pointer Sisters style ballad (Slowhand meets Fire), the sleazy country club singer vibe of the title track ("honey you're as real as a dollar bill") is a song she wants to revisit, the after-hours torch ballad When The Love Is Gone is one of her best ever (there wouldn't be a dry eye in the drag club), she makes The Baby's Back On The Street Again something of an ABBA sounding prozzy anthem, the swooning Walk With Me is stunning, The Book of Love is the token comedy bender ("hey ho - the book of love" gets me every time, as does her yelling of "oh stuuuupid cuuupid set me free", they are almost worthy of Prisoner's reckless excess), and Do I Ever Cross Your Mind is so atypically soft and lovely it needs to be heard. You just can't write off any period or any decade.

For a more detailed look at this album, here is my original review from three years ago (I apologize in advance if it is unreadable - sometimes I am just lost in music and obviously in a gay frenzy to capture the enjoyment into words, or something of that nature).

Cher Paralyzes Her Chart Positions

When twice-divorced Cher faced facts and returned to music in 1982, it was the first of 4 schlock rock affairs and by far the best. Her 70s steam-engine pop songs seemed to be her calling card, yet Cher craved being wilder as well as having far softer singer-songwriter leanings. Her versatility is evident on I Paralyze, which can been seen to mark a new phase of how Cher was packaged and presented to music buyers. Whereas her next 3 albums would rely heavily on their boxer-in-the-ring style singles, this marks Cher's first mainstream album to consist of songs seemingly soley written for her. And it shows. Tom Kelly of Cyndi Lauper's True Colours and Madonna's Like A Virgin fame is on backing vocals.

Cher's vocals are fully developed and threaten all sorts of emotional upheaval. It has been argued that her voice was simply too big for the lead single, the 60s girlband pastiche Rudy, but it remains safely in my top 20 Cher songs of all time if not higher. Her swaggering style suggests the ghastly repercussions of romance and seems to cringe jokingly at her weaknesses to the man or lesbian called Rudy (it's probably her cleaning lady). Personally, I surrender all resistance when Cher is on form this good: the agony of being infatuated never sounded so painfully exhilirating. Its teeth-shattering production is an obvious nod to Phil Spector, but those guitars splinter and sting like lightning.

The fervently mellow Games is lovelorn and abandoned - Cher sings into the night. This could be a Pointer Sisters ballad with its sensual angst and melodic stencil. Whatever she is gargling whilst lamenting 'whatever it is it is' must be strong stuff: she sings so deep it is hard not to wonder if she is deep-throating the microphone or else a chainsaw. 'Don't you play them with me' is her final swipe.


Once a club singer, always a club singer. Cher can't help but sing from one side of her mouth at all times, but the smouldering hip-popping I Paralyze is pure Elvis. Its country-tinged grind is so visceral it's a wonder her vocal chords aren't sharp enough to shred timber. The song is notable for its gasping conviction and that it was produced by John Farrar and co-written by himself and Steve Kipner (Olvia Newton-John's Physical) - 'leave the modesty to someone else' abandons all responsibility. There is a throat-slitting gasp during the chorus. when cher quips 'you're as real as a dollar bill' her innate pronounciation manages to make the couplet rhyme. A fine showcase for her spine-snapping prowless.



The almost gospel-sounding pop song Walk With Me beams with swooning pride. I would love to hear Nadine Coyle from Girls Aloud sing a song this good. The arm-swaying chorus is as nail-hammering as it is absolute bliss. Her steak-chewing vocal is at it's busiest and demanding.

Below: body-shy Cher mixes it up with her love for yoga dominating much of her early 80s photoshoots.

Her torch ballad crusade is not over as When The Love Is Gone is hands down amongst her top ten ballads of all time. Written by Desmond Child, it is hard to imagine some of the generic material he would subsequently submit. Her glass-cut vocal is one her clearest, and those husky tones give her grimacing credibility and a force beyond the boundaries of any known gender. Her sunset vocals are as incredulous as ever - her joy always cancels out the pathos, and 'there is a strength one gets when going it alone' let's one down easy.

Below: her career was left out to dry as were here clothes presumably - shot taken in 1980.

The pop-flavoured rockabilly-esque Say What's On Your Mind has vocal bite but it is biding time - good-natured filler but loose-wrist finger-snapping and toe-tapping pub rock is not my idea of paralyzing glamour. 'I may not be sober' is her well thought out defence for her whisky-led loose tongue (but does not explain her tell-tale lip licking addiction).

Her cover of The Babys' street-walking Back On The Street Again is the best ABBA-sounding pavement-pounding anthem and possibly the only one. Neon-glowing synths drips like a waterfall and a chugging bassline sweats it out under the spotlight. 'Here I am, I'm back on my feet again' is pretty much Cher's signature appeal. Her vocals thrash her lyrics like a food-blender but with less hesitance.

Below: Cher gamefully pulls back for the full facial.

The jittery The Book of Love is worth a million bad album tracks for the throwaway lyric 'hey-ho' inadvertantly being one of the familiar quirks used to impersonate her. The back-and-forth chorus gives decent friction, and Cher refuses to languish as she goofily heckles 'oh stupid cupid' - it isyet another drink-spitting high point in the same song which ought not to be so noteworthy otherwise.

The quiet raindrop vocals of Do I Ever Cross Your Mind are wiped away like oozing tears - Cher sounds uncharacteristically overcome. As closers go, this is up there with the unyeilding pathos of You Take It All and the meditative piano ballad Stars - her cleansing pressence and visionary torch ballads have saved the day once again. When Cher waffles on about 'that melancholy jaded by that time' it is the nearest she has ever came to employing a sort of stream-of-consciousness quality to her lyrics. To know what Cher is truly thinking has always baffled me and I am sure this is part of her inpenetrable mystique. Unlike other drumless ballads, say True Colours for instance, this song is breathtaking but never stark as it hovers as a smooth and smokey groove.

Below: Cher wonders if it is too late to fly to Malawi to buy a straight one.

Re-released in 1999, not owning this CD is a crime for any casual or die-hard fans alike. It manages to echo parts of her 60s and 70s trademarks and pass the baton on to her proper 80s comeback. Pre-occupied with a stint on broadway and reading Hollywood movie scripts, the album never became a hit but Cher has rarely sounded so inspirational.

Above: Cher performs for Joan Rivers on The Tonight Show in 1981 - I love Cher simply basking in the spotlight as the male singer serenades her.

There is no plundering second-guessing and 'paralyze' she succeeds with novel nostalgia, sassy country-tinged harmonies, melancholic vapours, feminine chivalry, romantic outbursts, and her rock items boast some of the highest price tags of her 5 decade career. Her vocal swoops are beginning to invite characature impersonations, but her wrestling charms ensure the album is another dramatic and spangling addition to the dark lady's remarkable oeuvre, and Cher's explosive sensuality has rarely been so vibranty on fire.