It was common for 1980s pop bands to recruit seasoned backing singers, usually women, to enhance the weak vocals of the lead (usually male) singers. Sometimes the hired help went on to become integral band members. Phil Oakey of the Human League reversed this trend. When he plucked schoolgirls Joanne Catherall and Susan Sulley from a Sheffield nightclub to perform with synth-pop pioneers the Human League, Oakey took a chance on two girls who could neither sing nor dance. A bold offer made in the spirit of the times ensured the survival of the band.
Thirty years later and the three of them are back, ostensibly plugging Credo, their first new album in 12 years. At least, that’s what the press release said. In fact this evening’s show is a chance to remind both ’80s revivalists (along with a surprising number of younger punters) just how good their brand of synth-led pop was. And just how many memorable hits they scored in the first half of the decade defined by Margaret Thatcher. Although Oakey is dressed in an up-to-the-minute black hoodie, the girls, also in black and perhaps remembering how they got the gig in the first place, have made few concessions to the present. Sporting an extraordinary “android” haircut, Sulley is, at first, as icily mechanical ever. It takes the audience approximately three minutes to rise from their seats en masse to dance away to “Mirror Man”. Most remain on their feet for the rest of the evening. “Love Action” is as powerful a declaration as it was ever was, Oakey’s voice slipping from baritone to bass and back again. “The Lebanon” may be one of the most ill-conceived “protest” songs of all time, but as a pop song it still packs a punch, as does the innocent teenage angst of “Louise”, which “seems to wipe away the years”. For the first time this evening, I wonder how the Human League’s memories of the ’80s compare to mine.
Then an odd thing happens. Sulley seems to take her cue from the still stupendous “Open Your Heart” and does just that. With the twitch of an eyebrow, she melts, allowing the public a glimpse of what it was that Oakey identified on that Sheffield dance floor all those years ago. Displaying a hitherto unimagined foxiness, she metamorphoses into the star of the show.
It’s hilarious and the audience responds accordingly. On the other side of the stage, a strangely immobile Catherall gives the impression that her mind is elsewhere – perhaps at home with the baby-sitter. Early songs “Being Boiled” and “Empire State Human” have grown warmer over the years and new single “Night People” would not sound out-of-place in today’s ’80s-influenced pop charts. You can almost feel the band building up to a big finish. “Fascination” keeps the crowd on its feet and “Tell Me When” has them reaching for their mobile phones in order to film each other dancing.
The school disco is almost over for another year, but there’s still the small matter of “Don’t You Want Me?” to get through. One of the most thrilling intros of the decade introduces a pop classic. Oakey, Sulley and Catherall vamp it up like there’s no tomorrow. However, on this evidence, I can’t believe they won’t be back again for many years to come.
