DO BANANARAMA HAVE APPEAL?

PT. 1: EXTENUATING CIRCUMSTANCES (DISCLAIMER)

Three hungover, hungry, still-jetlagged lasses from London, a.k.a. Bananarama, meet an ebullient but spacey female rock journalist who looks like a Greenwich Village Beatchick circa 1960. They have never heard of CREEM Magazine, and when I describe it, Sarah deadpans, “Oh—it’s like the N.M.E. now.”

I, the interviewer, have been known to have more fun in a dentist’s chair, watching MTV (my last dentist used it along with laughing gas to dull the pain). Instead, it is now I being called upon to pull teeth. It is too early in the day to even yawn without making an effort. There are three of them, and one of me.

Imagine, finally, how it feels being shut for an hour in a badly decorated conference room at PolyGram Records in N.Y.C. (home sweet slum) with three members of the bestknown “Girl Group” early 1980s London hath wrought, Bananarama. You have one hour to interview them. You wish you’d been along the night before, when the B-girls were getting sloppy drunk and jolly rather then being morning-afterish. Dig?

Also keep in mind, for visualization’s sake, that Siobhan Fahey, the most outspoken Bananaramaist, reminded me strikingly of Glenda Jackson, that wonderful, crusty, tough English actress. Think of a young Miz Glenda talking and the picture of Siobhan comes clear.

BANANARAMA: WHAT’S IN A NAME, ETC.

According to them, the most-asked question put to Bananarama is, “how did you get your (silly) name?”...So I didn’t ask. Instead, here is a clever but fictitious notion from Helen, a N.Y.C.-based chef: “The way I see it, we were all ascended from the apes. That’s why we’re called Bananarama.”

Well, folks, what’s in a name, anyway? More importantly, I wondered aloud to the trio how their image has altered since their first album. According to Siobhan: “It’s not an image change; it’s just that when Deep Sea Skiving was shot, that’s the sort of clothes we were wearing at the time. I mean, that was the current Vivienne Westwood collection. We liked those hats—”

Here I insisted that their old image was much more cutesy than that which they present on the current Bananarama album cover. I told ’em it’s a lot more seriouslooking ground: ‘‘Our image didn’t change; it’s just that we just decided we weren’t going to smile.

‘‘We don’t have an image; we just wear what is currently fashionable, just (ike any other girl...” She then pointed out that even yours truly, in all likelihood, dressed in a totally different way two years ago. Well, dear readers, the truth be told, I have neither the money nor the inclination to be a dedicated follower of fashion. It’s just that I decided I’m not about to pout. But I digress...

MORE APPLICABLE QUOTES FROM RELIABLE SOURCES

One male acquaintance smirked, upon my return from the fateful interview with Bananarama, ‘‘Oh, so how did you get along? Wasn’t there some sort of repressed hostility, or something?” Pshaw. Typical male reaction—all women want a catfight, huh? No, I am not in any way competitive—but I would scratch their eyes out if they tried to take away my boyfriend!

‘‘What do I think of Bananarama?”— replied a smart, funny, feministic, and attractive female friend whose opinion I revere. ‘‘They’re too coy. They look like three girls who wanted an excuse to wear a lot of make-up. And their lack of substance doesn’t distinguish them from 90 percent of the rock world—even though they’re female. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be sexist and say that just because they’re girls...The whole rock world is basically like that.”

So far, no good. Most applicably, here’s a quote from the great songwriter and mensch, Jerome ‘‘Doc” Pomus: “Once you start believing the words of your songs; you’re in trouble.” Thanks, Doc. Back to the B-girls.

(BORING) FACTUAL STUFF: BANANARAMA’S BACKGROUND

It’s late 1981, in London. Bananarama have been together as a three-girl pop group, vocals with side-men only, for two years. Having teamed up with ex-Pistols Steve Jones and Paul Cook, they’re climbing the English charts for the first time with a cover version of “Aie A Mwana.” The following summer, in 1982, Bananarama have a series of hits U.K.-wide from their debut LP, Deep Sea Skiving.

Collaborating this time with Fun Boy Three, Bananarama hit the airwaves with “Really Saying Something” and “It Ain’t What You Do”—more “covers.” “Shy Boy,” written by their producers, made it to number 4 in the English charts. Their cover version of the early 70s group Steam’s “Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye)” didn’t fare badly, either. However, they had yet to crack the U.S....Not a bad start for Sarah Dallin, Siobhan Fahey, and Keren Woodward, three funloving young gals, all good friends, two of whom left their studies in Journalism at the London College for Fashion (OK for cheap haircuts by students but for Journalism?!). Keren, on the other hand, quit a job at the BBC—so joining Sarah and Siobahn in a bold new venture; Bananarama. Voila!

“You can’t really be friends with men.” -Keren Woodward

Their, singles were catchy; their dancing, on video, either woozy or wooden, depending. A whole series of hopeful female groups in England followed (the first wave being the Mo-Dettes and the Slits, none of whom were phenomenally commercially successful), most notably Girlschool and Toto/Total Coelo.

None of the B-girls play instruments, but they do on occasion co-write songs (sorry— they did write a few on their own on their debut LP), mostly on their current venture, Bananarama, which was executed with lots of gloss (nice lips, kids) and a notion to crack the U.S. market. Undeniably, they look real good, and their voices blend well. Question: whose voice is whose (no Diana Rosses apparent), and who’s to say pitch and timbre and perfect diction compensate for lack of feeling? (Their singing is sometimes off-key, mostly on their first LP—but at least the quirky quasi-Motown feel of their sound made it hookier and more funky...)

BANANARAMA SING OUT!

Of late, Bananarama’s big gripe is that nobody takes them seriously—that they are considered silly little brainless dollybirds, with nothing to say or to contribute to Society. Readers, read on...

“When we first started out, if we felt strongly about something, we didn’t tend to write about it if it had anything to do with right or wrong or politics or morals of any kind. But, in the last year, we decided to grow up and face our responsibilities as people, so our lyrics are much more angry and, on the new album anyway, pretty political as well.” Siobhan declared. “I!ve said it before, many times, and I’ll say it again! One of our best friends was shot down in Belfast (Tom Rielly, to whom the Bananarama LP was dedicated), so that sort of made us wise up a bit.”

The two songs purportedly concerned with the Belfast incident and “politics” are “Rough Justice” and “King Of The Jungle,” from the second LP. The beauty of the lyrics as well as the liability lies in their utter ambiguity. Until I read the lyric sheet, I honestly had no idea they were singing about shooting and politics and social injustice. It’s like hearing a funeral dirge fashioned along the lines of “Let’s Hear It For The Boy”— the same brightness and bubbliness, with less catchy hooks. Somehow, I find it odd hearing a sweet slickly produced song about people being shot in Northern Ireland.

Siobhan declares, “The media shove everything under the carpet that doesn’t suit the government.” Sarah counters, “I think people would care if they would be allowed to care by the media.” In the next breath, she lamented, “That song that we wrote about Belfast has hardly ever been played...” Well, girls, I was sympathetic at first, but after listening to the Bananarama LP a good 30 times, I still can’t remember the song. Do bands pause to consider that perhaps the music’s to fault if a song isn’t getting across? Broadsiding’s a fine thing, but if the song’s unmemorable, you won’t get airplay or sales.

THE IRONY AND THE ECSTASY

“Someday, my prince will come,” monotones Siobhan, rolling her eyes. “That theme doesn’t ever occur in our songs. It’s been done to death!” Fair enough. So go kill yourself. Still, after a cynical foray into pop warbling, “Boy Trouble,” (“I’ve got a boy I’ve got boy trouble/l’ve got a man I just don’t want”) the follow-up is a wistful ballad called, “Wish You Were Here.”

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CONTINUED FROM PAGE 37

Then, after the quite silly but likable and quite apt “Robert De Niro’s Waiting,” in which lustful thinking is sublimated into wishful thinking (fantasize, my darling—it’s less hurtful), this bouncy bunch modulate into a bittersweet ballad of Iove: lament (“Though a Child’s Eyes”).

I just can’t understand how a singer can continually express such fashionable cynicism in the face of romance. Slop! In the Name of Love may have been the name of the game until the rot set in, but...how can we have hope to go on living if all we hear are tales of deception, rejection, and misalliances?

THE MUSIC

Bananarama’s music is catchy, tastefully arranged and utterly listenable. Am I misguided in wondering if the heart is hollow, and if that matters? After all, this is pop—and the primary function of pop is to convey the current fashionable sentiments. It is now fashionable to sing songs sans soul. It is not fashionable for neo-Girl Groups to display personality. Since they now opt for a techno-perfect studio sound, it is unfashionable for them to play instruments and write their own music—that’s hard work, and it’s more important to do one’s hair and nails, after all. Bananarama sounds too coy, indeed...

GIRL TALK WITH BANANARAMA Now for the juicy stuff. I would like to share some of the more intimate “girl talk” experienced during this interview.

“I don’t know what we’d be like if we didn’t have each other,” Keren griped. “If we didn’t have the group, I think I’d have gone out of my mind by now. You can’t really be friends with men—” Siobhan agreed. “Boys just don’t seem to be able to break down that barrier between the sexes and be a friend. The only boys you can do that around are gay blokes.” Keren then went on to say that “normal boys just stand off and never get into amusing—” Siobhan monotoned, “too busy pursuing masculine pursuits—”

Having a working knowledge of male attitude and behavior, English as well as American, I wondered aloud what they meant by this dark and amorphous term, “masculine pursuits.”

“Boys go down to the pub every night, and God knows what they talk about—”

“—They like watching football—”

“—Play pool, watch football, talk about football. go out for a drink—” Recalling Joan Jett, Chrissie Hynde, and various females who’ve made it in pop by being tough and sexy females simultaneously, I asked the three B-girls about it and they replied that they inspire intimidation in males, especially the record company: “They’re really nervous about what we’re going to say or do next.”

Forgive me if I can hardly understand why any guys would be put off by these three gals for any reason other than that they’re working all the time and cranky from overexhaustion and the occasional jetlag—with a fair amount of artistic conceit to offer the world, day in, day out. tH1