It’s difficult in a league of your own

Aug 15 2008 by Emma Pinch, Liverpool Daily Post

Emma Pinch talks to Phil Oakey about life in one of the most iconic electro bands of the ’80s

IT WAS the haircut that we all remember. It took guts, some might say foolishness, to totter down the streets of Sheffield touting one long black curtain of hair, jaunty earrings, candy-striped eye shadow and a slash of lipstick.

Because, despite teens pulling on their day-glo vests and bobbing along to “Acceptable in the 80s”, Phil Oakey can attest to the fact that even then, looking the way he did carried a fair amount of risk. And having ashtrays lobbed at his head, in his words, “became quite tedious”.

But the urge to stand out from the crowd was more primal then, and stylists weren’t invented.

“When I was growing up, I wasn’t really very macho,” explains Phil. “Although I wasn’t gay, I didn’t really want to go around pretending I was some aggressive ape. I looked round for something that would say ‘I’m not like everyone else’ and finally I saw a girl on a bus with her hair long on one side.

“She happened to be a hair model and I went and asked her where she got it done and she told me, and it became my thing. I had it before I was in the group.”

The group began life in the late 70s with computer programmers Martyn Ware and Ian Craig Ware. Their search for a vocalist led them to old school friend Phil Oakey, who was working as a hospital porter at the time.

The clincher was that he already looked like a pop star. Their live performances built momentum, and led to them supporting Iggy Pop and Siouxsie Sioux on tour.

When Ware and Marsh quit to form Heaven 17, Joanne Catherall and Susan Sulley were recruited, handpicked at a Wednesday night disco in Sheffield dancing round their handbags.

A barrage of hits followed, including Don’t You Want Me and two US number ones.