Tag Archives: Observer

2019 ➤ Scott Walker: a singular figure in art and ideas

Scott Walker,originality ,obituary, singer, Jake Walters

Scott Walker photographed in October 2012 by Jake Walters

A REVEALING APPRECIATION of Scott Walker appears in today’s Observer obituaries of the decade … Co-director of Artangel Michael Morris recalls the great experimental musician as a witty and charming man who freed himself from the trappings of fame:

He’s a completely singular figure in late 20th-century, early 21st-century art and ideas. Scott’s work doesn’t fit into a cultural compartment: he was interested in all forms of human expression. . . Scott was held in such high regard by so many other artists. David Bowie often acknowledged his influence, as does Brian Eno. I think they also revered his ability to cast off the mantle of celebrity and focus simply on the work.

He was not in any way caught up in the myth of Scott Walker. You just felt that you were working with a very precise, open mind, someone who was completely uninterested in the trappings of image or fame. Bike or the bus were his preferred modes of travel. I think he’d found a way to live and work outside of the public gaze that was much more liberating and creative. . .   / Continued online

➢ Previously at Shapers of the 80s:
I interviewed Scott Walker in 1967 at the very moment he was transitioning from teen idol into a more serious solo icon


➤ Thanks, Steve, for my invitation to the Swinging 80s

Blitz Kids, New Romantics, Observer Music Magazine, Derek Ridgers,Spandau Ballet, Steve Dagger, Steve Strange, Tipping points,London, Media, Politics, Pop music, Swinging 80s,,

The Observer Music Magazine, Oct 4, 2009. Pictures © by Derek Ridgers


WHEN MY PHONE RANG IN JANUARY 1980, little did I realise its message meant: “Put out the cat. You’re coming to the party of your life.” The voice on the other end spoke without pausing: “My name’s Steve Strange and I run a club called the Blitz on Tuesdays and I’m starting a cabaret night on Thursdays with a really great new band…. they combine synthesised dance music for the future with vocals akin to Sinatra, they’re called Spandau Ballet and they’re going to be really big. . .”

➢ Click through to continue reading Yours Truly’s eye-witness account of Spandau Ballet, the Blitz Kids and the birth of the New Romantics at The Observer Music Magazine

➢ Elsewhere at Shapers of the 80s:
The Invisible Hand of Shapersofthe80s draws a selective
timeline for the break-out year of 1980


2010 ➤ OMM goes out celebrating all our heritages

Caspar Llewellyn Smith, OMM

So farewell, then, OMM: editor Caspar Llewellyn Smith with Neil Spencer, iconic ex-editor of the NME, at the wake for the “anything goes” music mag (right). Main photograph © by Shapersofthe80s

❚ “AN ERROR,” said Neil Spencer, who edited the NME during the 1980s, passing verdict on this week’s closure of the Observer Music Monthly as part of a cost-cutting revamp of the world’s oldest Sunday newspaper, The Observer. “It broke the rules and went where other music magazines do not.”

Caspar Llewellyn Smith edited OMM from its launch in September 2003, since when OMM has patrolled the whole musical waterfront, excelling in its considered reportage of the indigenous musics of the third world, while also applying intelligent ears to chart fodder. Its respect for heritage was signalled the minute Spandau Ballet reformed last year. Caspar said: “We need to know the real story of the New Romantics – to overturn the view that it was a silly pop fad.” Unsurprisingly he quickly assembled a mélange of veteran contributors who included Spencer, Peter Culshaw and world-music guru Charlie (The Sound of the City) Gillett.

“A lot of Caspar’s peers haven’t got the same breadth of taste,” said freelance writer Sophie Heawood at last night’s farewell bash at the Albert and Pearl in Islington. “He’s someone who knows where the culture’s beautiful stuff is going on. Where eyes and ears are concerned, his can be trusted.”

Out of 76 issues Caspar said he was over-ruled from above on only two cover images, which is pretty nigh miraculous on a national newspaper. One of his favourite covers announced an unexpectedly revealing 2005 interview with Noel Gallagher, conducted with total irreverence by comedian and total Noel fan, David Walliams. Gallagher admitted to knowing “everything there is to know” about country and western music, and gave an appreciative nod to the 80s: “What struck me was that the boy bands of the day such as Spandau Ballet and Duran Duran could all play their instruments. It’s so far removed from the bands of today like Westlife and Boyzone, who are utter shit.”

Ambrose Campbell

Ambrose Campbell: bandleader who died in 2006

Caspar is also chuffed to have championed British rapper Dizzee Rascal since the first OMM. Later, he brought the rapper Roots Manuva together in conversation about black Britain with octogenarian Ambrose Campbell, who led Britain’s first African band The West African Rhythm Brothers in 1945.

Last Sunday’s final issue of OMM features a superb portfolio profiling 21 founding fathers of rock ’n’ roll, blues, jazz and country – from Jerry Lee Lewis and Little Richard, Smokey Robinson and Chuck Berry, to Wanda Jackson and Dave Brubeck – and Observer readers sprinted online to start mewling dissent.

Lewis was photographed last year by Jamie-James Medina for the final cover (above). Inside, Ray Davies of the Kinks recalls his first sight of the hellfire pianist on British TV in 1957: “I’d literally never seen anything like it. He had that long curly hair and he was playing with one leg up on the piano. He looked like a complete punk, but really cool at the same time.”

If you missed Caspar Llewellyn Smith’s savvy defence of his own musical odyssey, Pop Life: A Journey by Sofa, you’ll find it still in print here.)

➢➢ Click here to visit Observer Music Monthly


1980 ➤ Birth of the New Romantics and the band who made it hip to play pop

The Observer Music Magazine. Pictures © by Derek Ridgers

The Observer Music Magazine, Oct 4, 2009. Pictures © by Derek Ridgers

A music and fashion movement evolved from a small club in London in 1980. It went on to dominate the international landscape of pop and put more British acts in the US Billboard charts than the 1960s ever achieved.
Today in 2009, one insider recalls how Steve Strange and Spandau Ballet revitalised UK club culture…
➢➢ Click here to read my major analysis
at the Observer Music Magazine

2009 ➤ How three wizards met at the same crossroad in time

◼ THE REACTIONS TO MY ARTICLE LINKED ABOVE have been mildly shocking since it was published in OMM, the respected music magazine of the world’s oldest Sunday newspaper, The Observer. It appeared in October, a week before Spandau Ballet, the newly-reunited house-band of the 80s Blitz Club, embarked in their UK tour and it tells the story of their genesis as one aspect of a fertile youth movement that rejuvenated all of British pop music for the 1980s.

Why am I surprised that people have been surprised to discover the concerted power wielded by the so-called Blitz Kids in 1980 and after?

“The impact of that article within the music industry has been unbelievable,” said one major mover in the business.

“I didn’t know any of that!” declared a newspaper executive I respect, who was a young music fan in the Eighties. He amazed me.

“That article is the first in any national newspaper to tell the story as it really happened,” said one former Blitz Kid.

“This will become the official history from now on,” said another.

All of which prompts two instant responses. First, that many decisionmakers in and commentators on today’s music biz weren’t even born in 1980 – fair enough, fact of life. Second, apart from a handful of life stories written by the popstars involved, the rock historians who missed the boat when the New Romantics movement set sail remain in denial that anything changed in 1980. These sad old punks churn out their chronicles of rock oblivious to the fact that the new pop music of the 1980s became credible and cool and changed the UK singles chart for ever to the rhythms of dance. The point is the people who write the history books were usually looking the other way.

An ugly truth is that precious little innovation emerged from the rock scene of the 80s. After we give due recognition to newcomers such as The Clash, U2, REM and Elvis Costello, the decade’s bestselling rock albums came from stalwarts such as Springsteen, Gabriel, Reed and Mellencamp. Whereas pop being pop, it is the many new names from Prince downwards who gave the decade its myriad new sounds. Sympathy, then, to the young ex-music journalist who admits: “The 80s has been a somewhat historical black hole — most of the literature is for the 60s and 70s in all its forms.”

Dagger, Egan , Sullivan, Blitz Kids

Three who made a difference: Dagger, Egan and Sullivan

So the core contributions of three prime movers behind the new 80s pop — Steve Dagger, Rusty Egan and Chris Sullivan — go ignored by those historians forever in search of the next guitar hero, because this chapter was about nightclubbing and dance music, not about worshipping rock gods in a stadium.

As the youngest manager with a band in the charts, it is no exaggeration to say Dagger, at 23, initiated the overdue reform of the whole moribund record industry. As a clubland deejay, also 23, Egan looked to European electronica to refresh the music Britain danced to (distinctly different beats from the undoubtedly influential post-disco advances then emanating from New York and Chicago). And as a living beacon of inspiration, Sullivan — whose mantra “One look lasts a day” will be his epitaph — was at 20 one of those rare polymaths to whose feet you could trace the roots of many aspects of 80s youth culture, not least the pervasive influence of Soho’s Wag club which he named in his own image, and co-directed and hosted for 19 years with an emphasis on black music.

◼ WHAT’S SPOOKY IS THAT THESE THREE WIZARDS met at the same crossroad in time. What’s important to stress is that they did not act alone. Some people may feel it unfair to name them as leaders of the movement, though I have no hesitation doing so. Dagger, Egan and Sullivan were crucial agents of change — pathfinders who stuck out their necks by daring to do things differently. Without their vigour, diligence, compulsion and good musical taste, the UK’s dire pop scene in 1979 would never have started shifting. Yet they are the first to admit what everybody around them at the time knows: they could not have impacted on the zeitgeist as they did without the dazzling constellation of movers and shakers who orbited the Blitz Club in London’s Covent Garden. Nor should we understate the roles of Perry Haines and Robert Elms who in their early incarnations as cub-reporters were energetic at promoting the Now Crowd’s activities both in the new publications that sprang up as well as in mainstream media.

Andy Polaris, charismatic singer with Animal Nightlife, remarked that my Observer survey overlooked significant episodes beyond the Blitz, and the many “true style queens” who stirred the creative clubland mix, and he gave special credit to “Pinkie, Melissa, the lovely Luciana, Myra (ex-flatmate), Scarlett, Wendy, and Claire with the hair”. He was absolutely right, but he accepted later that because a music magazine had commissioned my 4,000-word slice of history, it was required to emphasise the progress of Spandau as the breakthrough clubland band.

The Observer, OMM

The Observer OMM Oct 4, 2009

Sullivan himself today deflects credit for his own waggish role in actively reshaping clubland: “If you run a club you’re only as good as the person who comes through the door. Whatever your inspiration, you always need the following. In the 80s, a lot of people made a success out of being themselves and the world would be a boring place without them.”

Shapersofthe80s will redress the balance by telling fuller aspects of the history as the weeks go by. It’s central to this website’s credo that sheer youthfulness and significant collaboration were the unprecedented hallmarks of the New Romantics juggernaut. Just as the Swinging Sixties were shaped by perhaps 30 bright sparks in Chelsea, so the Swinging Eighties were shaped by 30 or 40 energised individuals in and around the Blitz.

These post-punk hedonists represent a final cohort of Baby Boomers as the postwar birth-rate peaked in the UK, before it began to plummet for a decade and sociologists drew the demarcation line announcing Generation X (somewhat later than in the US). The cohort born between 1958 and 1964 (proponents of the Generation Jones thesis choose the bracket 1955 to 1967) shared the liberal boomer instincts for reassessing contemporary values, but as they finished their education the ravages of economic crisis during the 1970s threatened any expectations of entitlement and galvanised them to pursue self-sufficiency on their own terms.

As the Blitz Kids shook off teenage doubt, 1980 saw an outburst of all those talents that the following Generation X would have to live up to — leadership, adaptability, negotiating skills, focus. And as children of the age of mass TV, these can-doers excelled especially in visual awareness. There certainly hasn’t been anything like such a determined manifestation of youth culture since 1980, when the future looked daunting and the young had every right to demand a new deal.

◼ EVERYTHING ABOUT 1980 WAS EXCEPTIONAL. Britain was plummeting into recession in a far scarier world than today’s. Right now, Britain’s future looks dismal because the financial crash of 2007–8 will impose years of sacrifice and economic decline which no political party can prevent. That much is certain. In 1980 the future was unfathomable. A writer who is a former colleague of mine said of the Observer article that she didn’t recognise my political interpretation of the 80s. I’d say that in itself is indicative. Such was the turmoil pervading the entire political spectrum, that the nation’s fortunes looked dramatically different depending where you stood.

Despite the Conservative election landslide of 1979 that put Margaret Thatcher in power, unemployment was soaring and the political climate stank with public disillusion while Labour extremists saddled their strife-torn party with an unelectable leader to force splits within its ranks. Britain was a year away from a mighty rending of national fabric. When the Labour Party fell apart, it came as a shock to MPs from all parties to see angry moderates leave to launch a new Social Democratic Party (SDP), so named because they wanted to model it on the social democracy of the European Union. An SDP Alliance with the Liberal Party not surprisingly scored by-election successes.

The Observer, OMM

The Observer OMM Oct 4, 2009

The Cold War between the West and the Soviet Union escalated with the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, and Iran became an unknown quantity following the fall of the Shah. British suspicion of the US was exacerbated when the UK government agreed to its establishing ground-launched Cruise missile bases within spitting distance of London, thus magnifying its potential as a target for Russia. Then, even as the IRA intensified its bombing offensive in Northern Ireland, the Conservative government went to war with Argentina.

Very British Coup, Defence of the Realm, Edge of DarknessTelevision and cinema documented the paranoia of the age in a series of unnervingly intelligent “what-if” political dramas. (It’s well worth catching up with A Very British Coup, Defence of the Realm, Hidden Agenda, House of Cards and Edge of Darkness, which is widely regarded as the best British TV drama ever, currently being remade with Mel Gibson.)

At a more parish-pump level, Britain’s three-tier class war was alive and rampant, as Jilly Cooper’s book titled Class showed by becoming a runaway bestseller in 1979. Even our liberal-minded editor at the Evening Standard, Charles Wintour — a guiding hand behind the new SDP — was wont to ask when hiring staff for the Londoner’s Diary: “Which set do you move with?” Which “set” you aligned yourself with in society deeply coloured your view of the Thatcher years, which became characterised by unfeeling gentrification and the destruction of organised working-class power bases.

◼ ALLEGIANCES BURST SPECTACULARLY INTO LIFE on the Guardian newspaper’s website this year, 2009. In response to news of Spandau Ballet’s reunion on March 25, a blogger expressed his loathing of the band as the embodiment of “Thatcherism on vinyl” which promptly precipitated 345 comments. Yes, 345 !!! Can anybody recall another pop group provoking such outrage among the Guardian’s politically engaged readership?

One reader nicknamed Georges Bataille injected a note of reason among those 345 comments. He made a pertinent case for the UK’s North-South divide providing a barometer of the politics of pop… a more traditional Red Flag Old Labour legacy in the once-industrial North of England, and a softer more mainstream pinkishness from the Red Wedge bands of the South. (It still comes as news to many fans that three of the Spandau Ballet boys’ fathers were committed trade-unionists, and the band members and many in its entourage were Labour voters.)

I’d argue that in the 1980s, much more so than in today’s politically indifferent climate, where you came from both geographically and culturally made a huge difference to how the forces of lacerating social change impinged on you. The “set” you moved with tended to subscribe to a unique mindset and tensions weren’t far from the surface. Jingoism over the Falklands war split the young from the old. Republicans agitated for an end to the monarchy. For the first time in generations, Britain witnessed rioting on its streets over issues such as race, unionisation and taxation.

◼ BACK AT THE METROPOLITAN PAPER where I worked, its revered editor made the unforgivable decision to spike the first discussion of the Blitz scene I submitted for publication in 1980. His handwritten verdict on my copy was: “Rather too esoteric for us.” A few months later I tried again with a broader survey of the private worlds of young Londoners. This time the deputy editor flew off the handle. “You’re making this up!” he stormed. I protested that he lived just down the trendy King’s Road, about half a mile from the influential clothes shop, Acme Attractions, so he must have noticed these weird young fashionistas. His reply: “I’m pleased to say I haven’t walked down the King’s Road in 20 years.” Fortunately, by this stage Wintour had seen the light and he agreed to publish, albeit an abridged version of what I had written. Dagger, Egan, Sullivan and friends were well along the road to making history.

Ollie O'Donnell, Perry Haines,Robert Elms, Blitz

London’s young dynamos in waiting: seen at the Blitz in 1980, Ollie O’Donnell, Jon “Mole” Baker, Robert Elms and Jo Hargreaves. Photograph courtesy of http://www.homersykes.com

➢ Elsewhere at Shapersofthe80s: 108 acts who set the style for the new music of the 1980s