SPANDAU BALLET

In ‘76, pasted with spots , we thrilled at the leering aggression and self determination of wasted boys in mohair and pins - urban Steerpikes set loose with electric guitars on a world of bloated rock. We leapt and thrashed but could only follow.

And then as Soulboys. Sweating it up at Crackers. Hundreds dancing to four on the floor. And anyway, whatever record you bought you would only make love to Soul, nothing else seemed right. Soul Love we’d been told, and the Thin White Duke gave us his blessing, while Gods like Idris and Marvin taught us how to dance and cry.

This was our map of youth - Glam, Punk, Soul.

But who were we to become? What would we make when it was our time?

In 1979, when all in London seemed bored and grey, drawn by our moment, we walked down the steps of a small Soho night club called Billy’s. What we found thrilled us to the core. It changed our lives. Here in the half light was the electric decadence of Glam trimmed with gothic lace; the rude pout of Punk with rouge; a scattering of exotic creaturesin diamond, holding hands, dancing to electric pulses. Art school moving with street flash. At the door an androgynous svelte called Strange greeted us, while inside a suited young flash man, named Rusty Egan played his decks - Kraftwerk , Nina Hagen, Gina X. This was different - this was ours. And this was where we would make something new from all we’d learned before.

So we became a band , and these subterranean decadents flattered us with their presence. Spandau Ballet said Robert Elms, and we agreed.

It’s important to note that in those days of the black and white rock press, all the dance music was an anathema to them and never given a single line of support. Flamboyantly dressed dance floor dandies were seen with some disgust by those 70’s rock men. And the band that represented them , with more than a little suspicion. We revelled in our difference.

Billy’s moved to the Blitz and we were the Blitz kids, the New Romantics some said, and the cameras turned and we gave them the lines and the walk. We threw shapes and shadows on H.M.S Belfast, at Heaven , and The Scala with the last being filmed by Janet Street Porter for a TV documentary. We flew en mass to New York - musicians, students of fashion, giants of nocturnal posturing, and presented ourselves to a city that had barely left its flares behind. And at The Underground club Andy Warhol looked a scream and hung us all on his wall.

Somewhere between these events we recorded our first single for Chrysalis at Jam Studios in London with Richard James Burgess producing. Richard a face on the scene, was a talented drummer and enthusiast of the developing technology of electronic music. He understood us perfectly. To Cut A Long Story Short is released under our own label, Reformation, it goes top five, and we wear tartan on telly. Arrogantly prophetic, we decide to call our first album Journeys To Glory.

In those days we never saw ourselves as a touring band, preferring one-off live events. So coming from what was now a new burgeoning club culture I wanted to make what was at the time the first non funk/reggae 12” dance-mix. The extended mix we did of To Cut a Long Story Short was issued to the now growing numbers of sympathetic clubs in Britain and also became a new way of enjoying the song at home. We always loved exploring the possibilities of dance mixes in those early days, and what initially was an idiosyncratic and odd thing to do soon became the norm in the pop/rock world, with dance-mix specialists springing up everywhere. Our second album, Diamond was also issued as a 12” box set of dance mixes , and included the track that more than any other exposed our love of funk, Chant No 1.

Unlike the provincial desires of punk, it was always our aim to be successful world wide. Our focus eventually had to shift away from Soho and W1. I had written an Album of blue-eyed soul and pop songs and to find the right atmosphere to record it in we left London and set up home at Compass Point Studios, Nassau . With dance producers, Swain and Jolley, we created the sound that would be recognised as Spandau Ballet. Steve was now enjoying himself as a saxophonist and percussion player, while Tony had found a more emotional quality in his powerful voice. The album True would eventually take us all over the world and become our biggest selling record.

Gary Kemp , London 2002