Tears for Fears - Elemental (Phonogram) Super Mario Brothers - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (Capitol) IT always seems a bit desperate to hang on to the remnants of a band after half of it has left and, more importantly, after your time in the vanguard has been and gone. Roland Orzabal has done just that with Tears For Fears since the less-than-harmonious departure of partner Curt Smith. He is left with the name and the reputation to play with, plunder and even ruin in one fell swoop if he should so please. He does none of the above, but what he has achieved is not immediately obvious. Orzabal has come up with Tears For Fears fourth album, Elemental, and the question one is bound to ask is, why? Why not be content to end a career with what was almost the perfect pop album Sowing The Seeds of Love, happy in the knowledge that three albums the band put out had sold more than 15 million copies? The answer must of course be pride. Orzabal had always been the driving force behind Tears For Fears since their arrival in the charts in 1982 with Mad World. Songs From The Big Chair saw them consolidate their sound. Although Sowing The Seeds Of Love released in the heady ''second summer of love'' period of British pop in 1989, it was criticised for being too derivative in its Beatles leanings. But the album gave them a well-earned place in the global scheme of things. Elemental may well follow in these glorious footsteps, although it must be said Curt Smith's vocals are sadly missed. The album does bring together some fruitful collaborations, the bulk of the tracks being co-produced by Tim Palmer, who also plays. Like Sowing The Seeds of Love, there are references to previous pop eras that sit side-by-side with more contemporary influences. The title track and first single release employ an array of chugging guitar riffs and swirling drum rhythms, while in Cold we could almost be listening to Godley and Creme circa 79. But there's no doubt that the man knows how to turn a disturbing lyric and deliver it with all the power and pomp at his finger tips. Break It Down starts with a military drum intro and an Electric Light Orchestra-style string flurry, combined with an impassioned appeal get back to spiritual basics. There's the customary underplayed venom in the distorted vocals and ubiquitous references to Orzabal's mentor, psychotherapist Arthur Yanov, who wrote Primal Scream and underscored much of Smith and Orzabal's soul-searching philosophy. The parting of Curt has definitely left some scars in Orzabal's creative tissue, perhaps showing themselves most pointedly in Fish Out Of Water. ''We used to sit and talk about Primal Scream to exorcise our past was our adolescent dream . . . but now it's sink or swim since your memory fails . . . with all your cigarettes and fancy cars you haven't a clue who or what you are.'' Overall though a middle of the road album. Strictly for fans. On a lighter note and an album that was designed purely to print money, the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack of Super Mario Brothers. The computer game that's Nintendo-ing the brains of kinds of all ages into bleeping oblivion, hit the big screen with mixed reviews. But the soundtrack, it has to be said, gets a big score. Featuring two tracks from Roxette, which is by no means anything to be proud of, it has more than a few redeeming features. Namely the plucky Where Are You Going from Extreme, the seductive harmonies of Charles and Eddie with I Would Stop The World and even a blast from Megadeath as our two super hero plumbers zap their way through the aliens and enemies they find in Dinohatton. This is the sort of package that makes hard-earned pocket money, or not as the case may be, burn a whole in any young movie-goers pocket. Just think, they could be plugging into some good music instead of that banal brain-numbing Nintendo noise that we all love to hear on the MTR.