Mrs Chrisparkle and I have never really been into the pop/rock gig culture. My first proper concert wasn’t until I was 22 when a friend took me to see Simon and Garfunkel at Wembley; might as well start with a biggie. Then, one very wet day in 1984, I went with friends to see Genesis in the muddy squalor of the Milton Keynes Bowl – the last time that Peter Gabriel performed with them. Talk Talk were the support act – before their classic hit, It’s My Life. Before we met, Mrs C had seen both Howard Jones (yes) and Cliff Richard (oh yes) in Sydney. Some years later we would both see Howard Jones again – still a fan; and we were unfortunate enough to see Cliff Richard in the musical Time. Let’s draw a veil over that one.
Since then we’ve seen a few, largely retro, performances of some big names of the past, such as Adam Ant, UB40, Lulu, and that doyenne of heavy metal, Petula Clark. Seeing these big names has always a most enjoyable experience. When it was announced that Bananarama were coming back with a mini-tour, my social media timeline went berserk. Unfortunately, so did the booking queues and at first I thought we’d missed out. But then they announced one extra date right at the end of the tour and somehow, with hardly any notice, I snuck in and secured us a couple of tickets.
It’s only looking back that you realise quite what a legacy of brilliant pop the girls left behind, although it’s fascinating to see from their discography that they never scored a UK Number One – unless you count their contribution to Live Aid. Starting off with those incredibly languid first few songs, they pepped up with some poppy cover versions, then ended up with the full Stock Aitken Waterman sound. Get one of their songs in your head and there’s no way out. I have a confession to make though, regarding two of their biggest hits; I prefer the originals. Don’t judge me.
Of course, the Hammersmith Apollo was packed; our seats in Row S were surprisingly good, because the rake there is perfect and you’re still close enough to the stage to get the waft of a banana. They opened with Nathan Jones – one of the cover versions that I really like – and within a few minutes the crowd was ecstatic with nostalgia and appreciation for their really, very silly dance routine. I have to say the Bananas still look absolutely terrific; Siobhan’s older than I am, and that’s Really Saying Something. I’m no vocal expert but my guess is that you don’t have to be the best singer in the world to nail these numbers; their secret was all in their style.
Rather than have me tell you all the songs they sang, I’ll just say that, basically, they sang everything you’d expect. The only number missing that I would have liked to hear was their Comic Relief cover version of Help. An early treat was Robert de Niro’s Waiting, because everyone instantly sang along to create a great feeling of camaraderie within the Apollo. I was pleased that they performed Cheers Then, because I’ve always looked on it as the underdog of their repertoire, only getting to No 45 in the UK charts, and it took me years to track down a copy of the single at some obscure record fair. I hooted at delight when they sang Cruel Summer – that’s my favourite; their downbeat style suited perfectly the thorough sadness of that song. As it did with Rough Justice, which I found surprisingly moving. Many of their songs were accompanied by video clips of them all, innocently larking around back in the day, meshed together in some very lively and exciting visual backgrounds which complemented the performances nicely. Siobhan left the stage when they sang Shakespeare’s Sister’s Stay – a certain irony there – and of course everyone went hysterical for Venus, I Heard a Rumour (which came over incredibly well), Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye and I Want You Back. For the final two songs we had a truly funky rendition of It Ain’t What You Do… and Love in the First Degree closed the show.
P. S. OK! I’ll tell you which of those cover versions are not as good as the originals, IMHO. I prefer the hippiness of Steam’s Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye; and nothing can compare with the guitars on Shocking Blue’s original version of Venus.
P. P. S. There were a group of extremely well-dressed people in the row directly in front of us, including two older guys in very sharp suits. They all seemed to be having a great time, constantly saying hello to people, posing for selfies, and so on. It was only as we were on the way out at the end that we realised one of them was Andrew Ridgley.