TAJA SEVELLE
(US, one Top 40 single, no Top 40
albums)
Notionless here. Her one hit was "Love Is Contagious" in '88, which
made No.7 and was released on Prince's Paisley Park label, therefore it might be
safe to assume she is an ex-squeeze of the purple one. But we would like to know
more. Find the e-mail address if you can assist.
Biggest Hit: "Love Is Contagious", No.7, 1988
Defining Moment: None yet.
SHAKATAK
(UK, six Top 40 hits, five Top 40 albums)
Redoubtable sub-disco regiment of the early decade who were awash with cheddary
synth melodies, excitable female vocals and deliberately useless lyrics. Two Top
10 hits were the peak points of a slightly underachieving career, namely the
sinew-reviving "Night Birds" and the brilliantly tacky "Down On
The Street" ("down, dowwwwwn, dowwwwwn, dowwwwwn") which also
proved the swansong moment in the summer of '84. Ivory maestro Bill Sharpe took
a brief break in '85 to duet with Gary Numan on the national-grid- defying "Change Your Mind". Still together, still
forcing many a handbag floorwards, and enormous in the Far East.
Biggest Hit: "Night Birds", "Down On The Street", both No.9,
1982 and 1984
Defining Moment: "down on the street, dowwwwwn, shout on the street,
dowwwwn..."
SHAKESPEAR'S SISTER
(UK, one Top 40 hit, one Top 40 album)
Weird-as-hell Goth-imaged combo which consisted of ex- Bananarama droner Siobhan
Fahey, with blonde hair resolutely blackened into Morticia Addams doppelganger
mode, and the pouting, screechy and effervescent skills (as singer and
multi-instrumentalist) of Marcella Detroit. With the band name forcibly mis-spelt
due to an identical song by the Smiths, the one hit in '89 was "You're
History" ("like a beat up car, no good for me, like an old film
star") which had a deep-voiced Fahey chanting the slag-
off-old-boyfriend
verses while Detroit tunefully caterwauled the chorus as back-up. Their year was
'92, when "Stay" was No.1 for eight whole weeks, thanks to Detroit's
extraordinarily heart-wrenching verse delivery and in spite of Fahey's shortcomings as co-vocalist, at a time when an all-live
TOTP was separating the wheat from the chaff. The Mary Whitehouse Experience accurately satirised them, with David Baddiel playing an impeccably
vocalled Detroit, while Rob Newman foghorned Fahey, who was not best pleased. Probably because the difference in their respective vocal talents was
far- reaching, making Baddiel and Newman's mimicry too close to the truth - Detroit was terrific, Fahey (who also held a guitar onstage which she never
played) was awful. Detroit went on to concoct a slowburning solo career, while Fahey went back to Bananarama. Enough said.
Biggest Hit: "You're History", No.7, 1989
Defining Moment: Baddiel to Newman: "What do I pay you for exactly?"
PAUL SHANE AND THE YELLOWCOATS
(UK, one Top 40 hit, no Top 40 albums)
The theme to middling holiday camp sitcom Hi-De-Hi sung by the cast, led by fatso throwback performer Paul "Ted Bovis" Shane, who has since
gained a reputation for mutilating classic songs on daytime television. Neither the
song, which was fully titled "Hi-De-Hi (Holiday Rock)"
("hi-de-hi-de-hi, ho-de-ho-de-ho...") nor the programme were great, and the peak was low.
Still, at least we learned, as the theme tune to Bread failed to chart a few years later. Someone had mercy on us.
Biggest Hit: "Hi-De-Hi (Holiday Rock)", No.36, 1981
Defining Moment: "Hello campers..."
SHANNON
(US, three Top 40 hits, no Top 40 albums)
Dimly-remembered production line Yank soul sort who first appeared in '84 with a re-issued piece of nothing pop called "Let The Music Play",
which was nothing to do with Barry White, blessedly. Two more hits followed later the
same year, then it was all over. Not distinguished.
Biggest Hit: "Let The Music Play", No.14, 1984
Defining Moment: Mediocrity.
FEARGAL
SHARKEY
(UK, four Top 40 hits, one Top 40 album)
Massively-respected Ulster singer of raucous delivery who ditched the tatty clobber from his post-punk Undertones days and re-emerged in '84 with long
hair, natty suits and a selection of intensely arranged and quite splendid songs. He opened his account with "Listen To Your Father"
("no
more need be said, it's true and I am glad, let me take you by the hand and lead you to
the promised land") which was a thumpity-thump, brassy piece of brilliant
pop written by Carl Smash of Madness. He followed it up with the drumless, weepy "Loving You" ("touching you, it's a precious thing")
which was less good (though Sharkey's awesome emotional versatility within his voicebox was
exposed) before he gave '85 its best No.1 hit of the year, and found himself delivering an estranged couple's vitriol at the same time. "A Good
Heart" ("well I know it's a dream I'm willing to defend, I know it will all be
worth it in the end") was written by Maria McKee, who aimed it at an unreasonable ex. The reposte via Sharkey was the next single, written by the
ex, called "You Little Thief" ("you let me love you") which
was aimed at Ms McKee. Sharkey went from piggy-in-the-middle status to obscurity for a
while, with his 80s career done and dusted after a couple of flops from '86, before a brief return with the jealousy-ridden ballad "I've Got News For
You" in the early 90s. He still dabbles, but is now a leading light at Government broadcasting regulations body the Radio Authority, hence the
sudden re-appearance of "A Good Heart" on a station's playlist in the
week he is scheduled to make a visit. A truly outstanding and unique singer whose
existence both as a new-wave hero and an MOR warbler should always be cherished.
Biggest Hit: "A Good Heart", No.1, 1985
Defining Moment: "And a good heart these days is hard to find, so please be
gentle with this heart of mine..."
SHARPE AND NUMAN
(UK, two Top 40 hits, no Top 40 albums)
Shakatak head honcho Bill Sharpe teamed up with the fast-fading
blueglossed dipstick in '85 on four singles, of which only the first made any
impact. "Change Your Mind" ("nothing ever stays the same")
probably used more electricity than any other single of the decade, and sounded
damned good. The uncredited female backing vocalist was pretty fit as well. One
more semi-hit in '88 called "No More Lies" made No.34 in '88, but we
can't remember it.
Biggest Hit: "Change Your Mind", No.17, 1985
Defining Moment: "Why don't you ever listen, it's you I'm talking
to..."
SHERRICK
(US, one Top 40 hit, one Top 40 album)
Never heard of him. The hit was called "Just Call" and made No.23 in
'87, while the album did well to make No.27 in the long player countdown later that year. But we're in the dark. Anybody got a torch for us?
Biggest Hit: "Just Call", No.23, 1987
Defining Moment: None yet.
SIGUE
SIGUE SPUTNIK
(UK, three Top 40 hits, one Top 40 album)
Unsubtle, mega-hyped synth-punk gathering of crapness epitomised, with
Billy Idol's ex-Generation X cohort Tony James as the main big gob. Their
charmless, insult-all self-promotion got on everyone's tits bloody quickly, even
though they looked the business, with worthily flashy instruments and amazing,
versatile hairstyles spanning the whole shade spectrum. Led by the soaring
vocals of Martin Degville (whose voice was their one redeeming musical feature,
even if he did faintly resemble a broken belisha beacon) they got to No.3 in '86
on intrigue alone with the innuendo three-chord bilge "Love Missile
F1-11" ("shoot it up") but gratifyingly, they rarely
appeared again. Had a habit of getting concert crowds to throw glass bottles
onstage so they could headbutt them back.
Biggest Hit: "Love Missile F1-11", No.3, 1986
Defining Moment: "Shoot it uuuuuuuuup..."
SILVER BULLET
(UK, one Top 40 hit, no Top 40 albums)
Odd-as-underpants dance minimalists responsible for "20 Seconds To
Comply" in '89, which was innovative as it was confusing. Nothing to do
with Bob Seger, though we reckon the odd lawsuit was discussed around a large
boardroom table at some point.
Biggest Hit: "20 Seconds To Comply", No.11, 1989
Defining Moment: Unremarkability.
SIMPLE MINDS
(UK, sixteen Top 40 hits, six Top 40 albums)
Scottish stadia-fillers and admirable mainstays of the whole decade and
beyond, even though you could count all their truly great tunes on one hand and
they were nobody's favourite group. Plodded through as also-rans until '82, when
the hooked-up "Promised You A Miracle"
("promises,
promises") got to No.13, with Jim Kerr's characterless vocals adding
no more than consistent averageness to a throbbing, predominantly electronic
backing. The barnstorming 'da-dung, da-dung' amplified bass intro of
"Waterfront"
("get in, get out of the rain") cut through a few ear capillaries
a year later, but it was clear by now that they were destined to be a fanatic's
band, with the casual observer remaining as nonplussed as the next. Kerr was a
high-profile frontman, but his vocals were weak, and such incapabilities were to
the eventual detriment of a collection of songs which could have sounded so much
greater with a heartier voice. America liked them more, and in '85, their first
of two big years, "Don't You (Forget About Me)"
("will you stand above me, look my way, ever love me") went to
No.1 in the States, while only peaking at No.7 at the opposite end of the pond,
albeit as their biggest hit to date. Being on the soundtrack to the reasonably
successful picture The Breakfast Club probably assisted. Next up was by far
their best stab, with the sultry, soundbitten "Alive And Kicking"
("stay
until your love is alive and kicking") enabling Kerr - now infamously
married to Pretenders attitudette Chrissie Hynde - to rise above the knockers
and win worthiness as a vocalist just once, and only once. It would become a Top
10 hit all over again in the early 90s for no apparent reason, and has been used
since on many a chest-beating advert ranging from McEwan's lager to Sky Sports.
From the same batch in '86, "Sanctify Yourself" ("open up
your heart, sanctify yourself, sanctify") scraped into the Top 10,
followed by the musically-flawless "All The Things She Said" ("don't you look
back on a big lost world") which again showed the all too abundant
problem of Kerr's overcast vocals tarnishing potentially ripsnorting musical
accomplishment. Still, they were worldwide superstars by now, and following a
pish, workmanlike '87, they achieved their second and final year of serious
success by finally getting a No.1 in '89 with "Belfast Child"
("when the Belfast child sings again") which was a blessing to
see above the rest considering the weird and not-great changes which the charts
were endorsing. But even this wasn't faultless. The song was far, far too long
(TOTP cut it in half, radio stations used home-made edits) and despite good
sentiment for anti-troubles in Ulster, didn't say anything particularly new or
enlightening, and some of the province, from both sides of the argument, didn't
take kindly to it. It was also impossible to follow - the last three singles of
the decade all failed to make the Top 10, inching opinion towards the cliché
involving eggs and baskets. Kerr married Patsy Kensit - yes, he was a victim of
that, too - and the band dragged themselves into the new decade with one more
well-produced album in '91 before their star waned, and it's not clear if they
stayed together. You couldn't knock them - plenty of Top 10 hits, four No.1
albums, a thoroughly impressive longevity and a global appeal made them rich,
recognised and half-respected. But in terms of pure quality, they were never any
more than just plain old good. Something was always lacking. And even those who
really liked them would nonetheless always put them as second favourites behind
U2.
Biggest Hit: "Belfast Child", No.1, 1989
Defining Moment: "Don't you forget about me, don't don't don't
don't..."
SIMPLICIOUS
(US, one Top 40 hit, no Top 40 albums)
Clueless on this one. "Let Her Feel It" got to No.34 in early '85 on a
re-issue, flip-sided by an equally unknown Eugene Wilde song called "Personality". What can you tell us?
Biggest Hit: "Let Her Feel It", No.34, 1985
Defining Moment: None yet.
