The follow-up was held back for some time in many countries, presumably timed to coincide with a then-burgeoning Men at Work craze which was sweeping the world. That’s right – I said it – Men at Work craze. Honestly, I can’t think of a precedent for these guys in pop music history. They did everything wrong when it comes to achieving stardom. The incubation period for them was very minimal, achieving stardom in a matter of months, staying at the top for a short period of time, then after a short break, watching it all crumble in a matter of another period of a few months…and it was like they were never in the pop microscope in the first place. Listening to Cargo, some of the signs probably were apparent, although hindsight is 20/20. But generally, Cargo is a lesser animal – it’s paranoid, rushed, herky-jerky, and feels like a watered-down take on the measured madness that was the debut – again, presumably to capitalize on the ongoing craze in the air. The strange thing is, the cover goes out of its way to convey the exact opposite – that it is “business as usual”, indeed. And well, there are some indicators of wildness to be found – the lead single, for one, a tongue-in-cheek take on the old Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde tale, here titled “Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive” – which comes off like their speeded-up version of a WAR track, replete with sound effects showing off the good doctor’s transformations. But more celebrated (and borderline timeless) is “Overkill”, a quiet, chugging, little paranoid rocker which is definitively put over by Ham’s sax lines. Sure, we could say this is “Who Can It Be Now” part 2, 3, or 15, but what difference does it make when the band makes it sound so relevant and classy at the same time? Elsewhere, they dipped their toes in the political arena, commenting on the Cold War with the hilarious “It’s a Mistake”, where they pose themselves – and the rest of the world – as dubious victims while bloodthirsty generals and power-mad politicians fight for world control at the push of the shiny red button. The rest of the album has mixed results. “High Wire” contends in the political forum as well, but it’s hard for it to get noticed with the grand joke of “Mistake” hovering close by. “I Like To” was written by guitarist Ron Strykert, and he seems to emulating “Helpless Automation” from the previous album, just in a more progressive, yet confusing manner. The other tracks which Strykert writes, or has a hand in writing, are not the best – “Settle Down My Boy” is sheer pop banality, while “Upstairs in my House” is nothing too impressive, either. The ending tracks on both sides (“No Sign of Yesterday”, “No Restrictions” – ironic that they both start with the word “no”) are OK, just interesting that they both fit that paranoid mold to a tee, especially the latter song, which appears to be able the downfalls of way too much fame all at once. Overall, a fairly serious down grade from the debut, although there is enough here to rate this as something worth your time to check out.