NIK KERSHAW
(UK, eight Top 40 hits, two Top 40 albums)

Diminutive, multi-talented tunesmith with the snoods and the fingerless gloves who turned into the decade's most reluctant superstar, preferring to see himself as a songwriter who was forced to perform his own material. Kershaw emerged in early '84, following the usual start-at-the-bottom spells in crap pub bands (one was called Half Pint Hog) and became literally an overnight star after getting a lucky call-up to do TOTP when the classic "Wouldn't It Be Good" ("I got it bad, you don't know how bad I got it") had risen slowly to No.32. It ended up at No.4, helped by a tremendous of-its-time video featuring Kershaw as an alien being in chroma-key, and boasting still one of the most tuneful melodies in the decade's retrospect. Kershaw, complete with necessary spiked mullet, looked unlikely as a face of the year - awkward, shy, short, awful dancer - but his fanbase was instantly massive. Snoods and that nail-exposing handwear became all the rage as he built on his debut success, the jaunty "Dancing Girls" ("take off the cold night and the sad day") put him back in the Top 20, chronicling the story of a man utterly bored with his life's routine. The video was great - Kershaw gatecrashed some bloke's house and covered his kitchen floor with cornflakes. The next single proved a masterstroke by his record company MCA - they re-released the anti-nuclear "I Won't Let The Sun Go Down On Me" ("break your silence if you would, before the sun goes down for good") which had stalled at No.47 in '83  but was more than worthy of a second outing once Kershaw had been discovered. It shot to No.2, held off only by FGTH's madcap nine-week hold with "Two Tribes" and had the little guy miming it to a screaming teenage audience for the video. The fourth single was the title track to the huge debut album "Human Racing" ("silent vows in secret places, they'll get you somehow, because you never win in the human races, so who's the loser now?"), which proved Kershaw's deepest song and capped a great '84 when it also hit the Top 20.


SECRET


Though a break seemed inevitable, the second album was already written and ready, and out came the title track, Kershaw's slightly-iffy (but melodically infectious) "The Riddle" ("near a tree by a river there's a hole in the ground where an old man of Arran goes around and around") which shot to No.3 and inspired constant jammed switchboards whenever Kershaw was on the telly or radio, all from eager kids wanting to know the 'answer' to said riddle. Kershaw toyed with them, claiming the answer was a secret, only to reveal years later that there was no answer at all. Git - some of us lost sleep trying to work it out. Into '85, and "Wide Boy" was next ("he no big deal he just a wide boy, he no big deal he just an ordinary guy") which basically told the Kershaw story, detailing the tale of a bloke in the biz who kept doing well despite everyone making fun of him. Kind of. What would prove to be the last Top 10 hit followed, the splendid "Don Quixote" ("are we proud, are we brave or just crazy?") which hit No.10 a month after Kershaw did "Wouldn't It Be Good" at Live Aid, with the memorable skill of the cameraman picking out a single NIK KERSHAW scarf in the several hundred thousand at Wembley, hidden among the Queen and U2 banners which were blocking the view.  


CRUSTY


The appeal had started to wane, with Kershaw's heart throb status diminishing as kids started to realise he was a family man (he married Sheri long before he got famous) and his last hit came at the end of '85, the nonplussing "When A Heart Beats" ("meanwhile in cuckooland, a most delightful place") which duffily peaked at No.27 and also featured one of the crappest guitar solos ever. Kershaw was stuck now - too old and crusty for the kids, too immature (supposedly) for the adults. He carried on writing and recording but chart success evaded him, so he concentrated his energies on penning for other people, which brought him considerable success from the late 80s onwards. He wrote and sang backing on "The One And Only", a No.1 hit in '91 which was a far better song than anyone gave it credit for, distracted as they were by multi-moled Tremeloe kiddywink Chesney Hawkes singing it. He also collaborated with Elton John (successfully) and sparingly released a number of albums which did him justice outside the UK. He remains happy and, brilliantly, he is still a millionaire. Fair play. Other memories - people accused him of sounding like Stevie Wonder (he had that breaky Larry the Lamb voice which forced the comparisons) and Howard Jones (both were admittedly brilliant youngish pop phenomena, but musically worlds apart). Kershaw was a mean axeman, who also played keyboards, bass and percussion, and the current fad for 80s nostalgia would be incomplete without a complimentary word or two about him.

Biggest Hit: "I Won't Let The  Sun Go Down On Me", No.2, 1984
Defining Moment:
"Wouldn't it be good to be in your shoes, even if it was for just one day..."

Matt