CAMEO
(US, six Top 10 hits, one Top 40 album)

CLASSY YANK soul-funk team of ambivalent, ever-changing numbers most famous now for having their rawkish signature tune "Word Up" ("we don't have no time for psychological romance") being covered waterily in the 90s by Gun and then, with some despair, gruesomely murdered by the vile Mel B. Long established in the States, they kicked off a fun-filled short flirtation with the charts on the opposite end of the pond in '85 with "Single Life" ("I'm living the single, single, single, single, single...life!") but it was the previously mentioned top drawer powerdrill classic which made them the coolest act on the planet for six months in '86 helped by outstanding thug-undercurrent dance video set on graffiti-laden hard street and the hilariously controversial scarlet out-of-trouser jockstrap worn by the lead singer. Other hits proved less commercially viable, but they had done their bit. Lenny Henry's pirate DJ alter ego Delbert Wilkins once asked for his dopey assistant Winston to dig out "Single Life" to remind him that women weren't worth the hassle. Sponditious.

Biggest Hit: "Word Up", No.3, 1986
Defining Moment: That ghostly "wy-oo wy-oo oooooh!" which was stamped on every hit.

CAPPELLA
(Italy, one Top 40 hit, no Top 40 albums)

Neapolitan denimed homely bloke-producer sort  scoring one hit in the decade, the surreally-titled and dimly-remembered "Helyom Halib". 

Biggest Hit: "Helyom Halib", No.11, 1989
Defining Moment: None.

TONY CAPSTICK AND THE CARLTON MAIN/FRICKLEY COLLIERY BAND
(UK, one Top 40 hit, no Top 40 albums)

WELL, WHEN IT comes to Yorkshire mining village brass bands, our database clams up, sadly. We're probably too loyal to Brighouse and Rastrick. One big hit with "The Sheffield Grinder/Capstick Comes Home" but we know little about either Capstick or the song, though we do know that the main protagonist is big in BBC local radio round the Sheffield vicinity. We can safely assume that the good coalmen of Frickley donned mucky vests, fake black dust and Davy helmet lamps when they did TOTP. That's almost certain. Anything else to tell us?

Biggest Hit: "The Sheffield Grinder/Capstick Comes Home", No.3, 1981
Defining Moment: Probably told off by Arthur Scargill for capitalist royalty-making.

CAPTAIN SENSIBLE
(UK, three Top 40 hits, no Top 40 albums)

The solo result of arguably the most diverse argument about 'musical differences' in history, we reckon. Sensible, as we feel obliged to moniker him (real name Raymond Ian Burns), ditched his plectrum and Transylvania- obsessed 70s punk icons The Damned in order to make Darby and Joan rehash of South Pacific's "Happy Talk" ("you've got to have a dreeee-am") which holds the record to this day for the biggest climb to No.1 (from 33, factoid fanatics) and rendered any hope of staying at such peaks totally impossible. He had a fair- to-crap go at it, with the gleefully dire "Wot" ("I said a-Captain, I said a-Wot?" - eh?) rising to, well, No.26 actually, and being forced on to the teenage audience's pleading earholes again when the cast of Grange Hill sang it at a school-outing disco for Bullet Baxter and wimpish ma'am Miss Mooney to, er, strut their funky stuff to. Sensible rejoined the Damned in the spring of '84 for a one-off mime as guest turn on The Young Ones but despite the new-wave connoisseurs' understandable relief at his return to sanity, it wouldn't last, with the dribbly and quite ludicrous "Glad It's All Over" taking him back to the Top 10 shortly afterwards. Round shades, cheesy grin and THAT essential non-fashion item, the red beret, all contribute to the story of a man who lost the plot on the surface, but actually gained universal appeal, as proved by the number of slightly-older fans who turned up when he rejoined the Damned later, likely to be disappointed that fangface Dave Vanian didn't belt out songs about having dreams come true.

Biggest Hit: "Happy Talk", No.1, 1982
Defining Moment: Immortalisation in Grange Hill is a great compliment.

IRENE CARA
(US, two Top 40 hits, no Top 40 albums)

She was gonna live forever, she was gonna learn how to fly. High. Yep indeedy, the voice of tacky stage school Yank wimpydram "Fame" - as '80s a series as you can get - made her living on the back of the show's bright clunky identi-titled theme tune, which in time honoured tradition, went to No.1 in '82 because it was from a popular show rather than because it was a worthy piece of songcraft. Cara was pleasant enough to look at, and the show she represented allowed us to briefly dispell our inbred stereotype that all Yank kids are on the game or tooled up. Cara returned six months later with "Flashdance...What A Feeling" ("now I'm dancing for my life") which set us back ten years in terms of cheesy disco tat, but it was all rather jolly good, innocent fun underneath. Purists bemoaned, kids just had a right good boogie.

Biggest Hit: "Fame", No.1, 1982
Defining Moment: "Remember my name!"