Got Any Spandau?

Somewhere in the deeps of my record collection, there's a 12 inch pressing of 'Chant No. 1' by Spandau Ballet. And frankly, I'm not too ashamed of it. Back in 1981 it seemed like an interesting steer. I liked the timbales and the congas and the studied cool. Beggar & Co. supplied the brass section, which was ace. It seemed like this bunch of North London boys was making an exit from the New Romantic stable and doing something with more texture. It was the era of Blue Rondo A La Turk and yes, Modern Romance. Everyone, it seemed was wearing a zoot suit and reading The Face, while pretending that there had always been a salsa element to your music.

Soon after, they became a pop band. Like every other chart act of the time, Spandau Ballet's songs featured insincere saxophone solos and were graced by foolish videos. I nodded sagely when the NME singles reviewer compared 'True' to Fascist architecture. Looking back, it makes no sense at all, but hey, they were the enemy and we were prepared to fight them on the indie beaches.

Around 1987 I interviewed Gary Kemp of Spandau for the NME. It was for a section near the front of the paper called Material World in which the artist talks you through their cultural penchants. I was suitably snooty. After all, he had written the 'Through The Barricades' with its patronising thoughts on Belfast and the rancid quote from WB Yeats. But Gary wasn't bothered by my distain, and proceeded to run rings around me with his knowledge of modern art, cuisine, couture and travel. He didn't need that pressure on, and ultimately, I felt rather foolish.