These are all powerful
touchstones, but Spandau Ballet placed themselves between two cultural
worlds, coming from the marginal English synth-disco scene (often
called “techno,” a word which now has an entirely different
meaning) and then flashing suddenly into the collective subconscious
by remaking themselves into practitioners of Velveeta-slick pop balladry
aimed directly at the hearts of the public. From “True”
onward, their sound sought the exact middle ground. You can’t
hear them without sensing the desire of songwriter and guitarist Gary
Kemp to be a player at the highest level: not a hipster, but a fixture.
Gold - The Best of Spandau Ballet, which was released seven
months ago to a thankless world, is one of the craftiest greatest-hits
albums ever made; frontloaded with hits (“Gold,” “True,”
“Lifeline”) and padded with songs that you’ve heard
but have long since thought of as fragments from an unrecoverable
dream. “Chant No. 1” in particular will have you hearing
sound-bites from Reagan inaugurals within seconds -- “It’s
morning in America,” you’ll see flashing across your field
of view while the group sing-shouts “I don’t need this pressure
on/I don’t need this pressure on/I don’t need this pressure
on” over and over, a mercilessly catchy muted guitar riff skittering
all cagey and sneaky over a conga-embellished beat with a tighter-than-your-jeans
horn section emitting staccato bursts of activity once every eight
measures. Occasional flutes. A rolling bassline. A guy with an English
accent rapping Wham!-style. It makes me dizzy.
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