494. Kraftwerk – The Model/Computer Love (1982)

The Intro

I still find it weird to know that Kraftwerk, one of the greatest, most influential groups of all time, had a UK number 1 single. Even weirder that it’s primarily due to The Model, a song that had been released five years before it topped the chart. Then again, should it really be a shock that it had taken the rest of the world half a decade to catch up to sounding anywhere near as good as Kraftwerk?

Before

You don’t need me to tell you that the West German experimental scene of the late 60s and early 70s was thriving, exciting and diverse. So it’s really annoying that everyone was lazily lumped together by the British press as ‘krautrock’, and that the name has stuck. Nonetheless, Kraftwerk, Neu!, Can and more had a shared desire to move on from the desolation of post-war Germany and push the boundaries of music.

Among the many great young artists were Ralf Hütter and Florian Schneider-Esleben, who met as students at the Academy of Arts in Remscheid in 1968. in Düsseldorf. The duo became part of Organisation zur Verwirklichung gemeinsamer Musikkonzepte – also known as simply Organisation. They recorded one album of experimental music, Tone Float, in 1970, which only saw release in the UK. At the time, Hutter contributed only Hammond organ, with Schenider-Esleben primarily on flute and percussion.

Shortly after Organisation disbanded, Schneider-Esleben became interested in synthesisers. He and Hütter were inspired at an exhibition by surrealist duo Gilbert & George, and adopted the image of two deadpan artists dressed in suits that has remained indelibly Kraftwerk ever since.

The early line-ups of Kraftwerk – the German for powerplant – were a work in progress, with the only constant throughout being Schneider-Esleben. Even Hütter briefly left to complete university. Konrad ‘Conny’ Plank, who had been behind the mixing desk on Tone Float, was their producer.

Kraftwerk would have you believe their debut album was Autobahn in 1974. Schneider later dismissed their first three albums as ‘archaeology’. They’re not commercially available, and no material has been performed from them since 1975. However, while they may vary in quality, and it’s a nice idea to imagine Kraftwerk arrived fully formed in the mid-70s, it’s a real shame they have been airbrushed out of history. Their eponymous debut, released in 1970 and starts with the propulsive highlight Ruckzuck. One track, Von Himmel Hoch, featured future Neu! drummer Klaus Dinger.

Kraftwerk 2 came two years later and featured only Hütter and Schneider-Esleben. While not as interesting as its predecessor, it does open with the lovely Klingklang, which gave the duo the name of their future studio.

Their third, Ralf & Florian (1973), is the best of the forgotten trilogy. It saw the duo move closer to their trademark sound, including their first use of vocoder, but with elements of psychedelia still at play, and Tanzmusik is very lovely. I genuinely think that the LP’s cover, which shows Hütter as an awkward geek next to a very suave and totally on-point Schneider-Eseleben, is the reason these albums have disappeared. Although Hütter hinted in 2009 that these albums could see the light of day eventually, we’re still waiting.

In 1974, Hütter and Schneider (at this point dropping his second surname) went shopping for synths which would transform their sound and fortunes, including a Minimoog and a Farfisa organ. They also picked up two new members – Klaus Roeder on violin and Wolfgang Flür on percussion. Their associate, the painter Emil Schult, who helped on the artwork to Ralf & Florian, became more heavily involved, helping to create a more formulaic look for the new quartet, and even contributing lyrics to the title track of their ‘first’ album.

All 22 minutes of Autobahn, Kraftwerk’s hymn to the joy of simply driving on German roads, remain a total charming delight and if you’re going to rewrite history, what a way to begin chapter one. Amazingly, it’s still brilliant in its radio edit of three minutes, which peaked at 11 in the UK in 1975. It just goes to show that a great hook will capture the imagination of record buyers, even if it is part of an electronic symphony that symbolises a giant leap forward in pop. Also worth mentioning from the accompanying album is the gorgeous Kometenmelodie 2.

Kraftwerk toured Autobahn in the UK, US and Canada, and heads were turned by four unassuming men in suits creating magical, futuristic pop music. Hütter and Schneider sang and played synths, while Flür was joined by newest member Karl Bartos on home-made electronic percussion. The classic line-up was complete.

With Kling Klang now a fully operational studio, more electronic gadgets to hand, and Hütter and Schneider producing, Kraftwerk set to work on the icy cool follow-up, Radio-Activity (Radio-Aktivität in their homeland). A concept album that played on the twin themes of the title, Kraftwerk paid tribute to radio waves on the sweet Airwaves and sang about nuclear power on Radioactivity, co-written with Schult. The peaks aren’t as high as its predecessor, but Radio-Activity is more cohesive. Kraftwerk toured once more and David Bowie declared himself a fan, even inviting them to support him on tour, but they declined.

In 1977 came Kraftwerk’s best album yet. The title track to Trans-Europe Express was an epic sequel-of-sorts to Autobahn, this time focusing on rail travel. It namechecked their new biggest fan, Bowie, and helped invent hip-hop when sampled on Afrika Bambaataa and the Soul Sonic Force’s 1982 hit Planet Rock. And the opening track Europe Endless is a gorgeous hymn to the continent. They also started to explore the concept of disparity between humanity and image with Hall of Mirrors and Showroom Dummies – with the latter reaching 25 in the UK singles charts.

The Man-Machine, which followed in 1978, wasn’t quite as good, but definitely summed up their concept better than anything else within this decade. Robots and the title track further refined their danceable rhythms and the idea that they were conjured up by people who were seemingly more mechanical than humanoid. Neon Lights is up there with Europe Endless as one of their sweetest songs. And The Model was, as it turned out, catchy and importantly, short enough, to be an actual catchy pop record.

Kraftwerk spent much of the next three years working on modifications to their studio, to enable them to effectively take it out on tour. Computer World is Kraftwerk’s masterpiece and well worth the longest wait yet between LPs. It was also their most timely, arriving just as the home computer revolution began and digital technology entered the mainstream. Concise and flawless, Computer World is one of the greatest albums of all time. The fun, bouncy Pocket Calculator was released as a single, but somehow only reached 39. It was perhaps just too esoteric for the mainstream at the time. This was followed by the moving melody Computer Love, which only performed slightly better, peaking at 36.

However, Kraftwerk’s record label, EMI, had gotten wind that The Model, which was the B-side to Computer World, was getting more attention than the A-side. Against the group’s wishes, the single was re-released as a double-A-side, with a video created for The Model, and for one shining week, Kraftwerk were on top of the pop world.

Reviews

The Model, originally Das Model in their homeland, was written primarily by Schult. The artist was dating a model at the time, and Hütter and Bartos knew he had something, but they reworked the guitar-driven tune to fit their sound better.

From Radio-Activity onwards, Kraftwerk had chosen to release German and English language versions of their albums simultaneously. This of course led to occasional differences in lyrics when translated, but The Model and Das Model are mostly the same – bar for a striking utterance of ‘Korrekt!’ in the latter. This came about due to an in-joke in which the group invited a waiter they knew from a nightclub they frequented in Düsseldorf. Very funny for them, I’m sure, but it does jar somewhat and I’m glad it’s not in the UK version. The Model, is a typically Kraftwerkian icy cool observation of a beautiful woman, at once both sexy and not at all. The tune is a hell of an earworm, and totally at home among the best electronic pop of the early 80s. But it’s easier to appreciate than enjoy. It may sound silly to accuse a Kraftwerk song of lacking heart, but at their best, Kraftwerk actually made some great soulful records – and you only need to flip this record to hear one.

Although I assume the video to The Model was put together without Kraftwerk’s permission, it’s pretty good. Simple but effective, it’s primarily old footage of models, interspersed with the group performing inside their neon-lit studio/live setup. The only negative is the dated, early 80s technique of ‘animating’ them to create an annoying needlessly jerky effect.

Computer Love is the beating heart of Kraftwerk, and in an ideal world, deserves to be recognised as a number 1 in its own right. But lets just be grateful that this extremely prescient song exists in the first place. Released as Computerliebe in West Germany, Computer Love predicts modern dating as a lonely man forlornly stares at a screen while looking for romance. I’ve been there, done that, and believe me, this song captures such melancholy very well.

A lot of that is down to the plaintive melody, which came from neither Hütter or Schneider. Caps for this can be doffed squarely at the unsung hero Bartos, who had also helped work The Model into shape. Schult was again responsible for some of the lyrics – I applaud whoever came up with ‘I need a data-date, a data-date’ and assume it was him. The full seven minutes of Computer Love is pretty emotional – the rhythm grows more propulsive in the latter half. Is this to mirror the desperation of the protagonist? However, it inevitably loses some of this effect when chopped in half for a single release. Nonetheless… it’s just really rather beautiful.

Coldplay certainly felt so – they lifted the melody on their 2005 single Talk. After asking Kraftwerk’s lawyers for permission, they eventually received a letter in the post, which contained a handwritten reply that simply said ‘Yes’.

After

Kraftwerk took their Kling Klang studio on the road for their ‘Computer World’ tour, using replica mannequins to perform The Robots to audiences. They then began to work on their next album, provisionally called Technicolour. In 1983 they released the fantastic single Tour De France – a sign of Hütter’s growing love for cycling following the rigours of the previous tour. He tried to persuade the rest of the group to record a concept album based around cycling, but they refused – perhaps in part due to the fact he was involved in a cycling accident during recording that left him in a coma for a while. The single climbed to 22 and was featured in a brilliant scene from the film Breakin’ (known over here as Breakdance).

Kraftwerk found themselves becoming victims of their own success. After years of pioneering electronic music, some of those they inspired began to catch up with them, thanks in part to the advance in technology and growing cheapness of the instruments needed to create similar sounds. Although Flür had performed on the accompanying tour, his percussion was not included on Computer World, and he preferred to spend his time on the road with his girlfriend than out cycling with Hütter. 

Over time, Technicolour developed into Techno Pop, then Electric Café, before finally being released in 1986. Although much maligned, the opening trio of Boing Boom Tschak/Techno Pop/Musique Non-Stop is up there with some of their most fun work. But there’s no hiding the fact it descends almost into pastiche in the second half. Flür is missing from the LP’s credits. Neither Musique Non-Stop or The Telephone Call charted in the UK.

After years away, Kraftwerk returned to live performances with gigs in Italy in 1990. Flür had been replaced by Fritz Hilpert, and Bartos left soon after, with his slot filled by Fernando Abrantes. In 1991 came The Mix. Originally conceived as a best-of, the album served as an update of key tracks, bringing them more in-line with their live shows. For many dance music fans who discovered Kraftwerk at the time, it’s one of their favourite albums. The updated The Robots climbed to 20 in the UK. Abrantes departed before long and was replaced by Henning Schmitz.

In 1999, Kraftwerk were commissioned to create a jingle for the Hannover Expo 2000 world’s fair in Germany. The result was developed into Expo 2000, which reached 27 in the singles chart on these shores.

Hütter finally got his wish in 2003 when Tour De France Soundtracks was released. Unsurprisingly, he was credited with most of the music, with Schneider’s name absent. Maxime Schmitt received co-writing credit on the lion’s share of the album. It was better than you’d expect an album that had been awaited for years, but was a little one-note – inevitably, I guess. It spawned their last charting single to date – Aerodynamik, which peaked at 33 in 2004.

Kraftwerk’s ‘Minimum-Maximum’ tour began in 2003, and saw decreasing physical input from the ‘band’ members. All four stood in front of laptops, which, of course was inevitable for Kraftwerk, the synthesis of man-machine now complete. An accompanying live album was released in 2005.

Schneider left Kraftwerk in 2008, leaving Hütter as the sole surviving member. His ever-decreasing role was taken by Stefan Pfaffe – a ‘video technician’.

2009 saw the release of Kraftwerk’s controversial The Catalogue, in which Hütter had taken a similar approach to Star Wars creator George Lucas, changing the artwork to the albums from 1974 onwards and effectively telling the world that Kraftwerk began with Autobahn. You have to wonder if this approach had helped Schneider decide to leave. They also began touring a 3-D show featuring impressive backdrops to their shows.

Kraftwerk continued to tour, presenting a run of shows at the Museum of Modern Art in New York in 2012 in which they performed each album from The Catalogue box-set per night. Pfaffe had been replaced by Falk Grieffenhagen.

In 2017 I finally got to see Kraftwerk live at Sheffield City Hall. The 3-D element was somewhat ruined in the second half due to a curtain malfunction, in which one poor guy was forced to hold the huge curtain half-open for the rest of the set. He got the biggest cheer of the night when Hütter thanked him. The 3D The Catalogue box set was an excellent document of this tour, and with the audience noise removed, was effectively a reworked version of their entire official back catalogue.

In 2020, Schneider died of cancer, and despite Kraftwerk’s faceless self-image, the music world recognised the huge contribution he had made. The group was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2021. Hilpert was replaced in 2023 by Georg Bongartz, another video technician. Kraftwerk continue to tour the world.

The Outro

What will happen to Kraftwerk when Hütter either retires or dies? It’s very likely that the group will still function as a touring entity to me. After all, the only existing founder member has ensured people can pay to see and enjoy their music and impressive stage show, no matter who is pressing the buttons. There will most likely be a neverending chain of four ‘musicians’ – that is, after all, what you think of when you think of Kraftwerk. Perhaps they will be represented by holograms. Despite occasional teases, it’s unlikely there will be a new album.

What is beyond a doubt is Kraftwerk’s place in music. They are the most important group since The Beatles. Often imitated, never bettered, their ability to push boundaries, with an ear to a catchy tune, using a very German sense of fun, was incredible. We are lucky to have had them in our lifetimes.

The Info

Written by

Ralf Hütter, Karl Bartos & Emil Schult

Producers

Ralf Hütter & Florian Schneider

Weeks at number 1

1 (6-12 February)

Trivia

Births

11 February: Actress Natalie Dormer

Deaths

6 February: Painter Ben Nicholson
8 February: Sir Cedric Morris, 9th Baronet

    Meanwhile…

    6 February: Queen Elizabeth II commemorates her Pearl Jubilee.

    491. The Human League – Don’t You Want Me (1981)

    The Intro

    It’s a tale as old as 1981. The tall but true tale of how a bunch of Sheffield synth-based misfits fell apart, causing the remaining singer to hire two dancing teenage girls he saw in a club and release one of the best pop songs ever. This is the story of The Human League and Don’t You Want Me, the Christmas number 1 that year.

    Before

    The Human League flickered into life in 1977. Martyn Ware and Ian Craig Marsh were computer operators who met at the youth arts project Meatwhistle. Both were lovers of glam rock and Motown, but, perhaps in part because of their occupations, were becoming increasingly interested in avant-garde electronica. Only a few years previous, the idea of working class people delving into the latter was just fantasy. But the cost of electronic components had started to drop, and so Ware and Marsh clubbed together to buy a Korg 700S synthesiser. A mutual friend booked them to perform at his 21st birthday party, and so The Dead Daughters were born.

    After a few more informal performances, Ware and Marsh decided to form a proper group. They recruited Adi Newton, bought a Roland System-100 synth and became The Future. They rehearsed in a disused cutlery workshop in the centre of Sheffield and during this brief time they recorded and compiled a demo tape of 10 songs. The Future visited London with this tape but were not signed, resulting in Newton leaving to form the influential Clock DVA with Steven ‘Judd’ Turner. The demos were eventually released by hip producer Richard X in 2002, along with early Human League tracks on compilation album The Golden Hour of the Future. It’s not an easy listen, sounding not unlike Throbbing Gristle or early Cabaret Voltaire, but it’s a curio.

    Ware, wisely, decided a singer was needed if they were to hope to find a record deal. First, they asked Glenn Gregory, who had been in a punk band with Marsh, but he had moved to London to become a photographer. Instead, they settled on their old school friend, Philip Oakey. He was working as a porter in a hospital, when they asked him. Despite no musical experience, Oakey was handsome and known on the Sheffield music scene for his outlandish dress sense. Ware went round to his house to ask him to join The Future, but was forced to pin a note to his front door when he didn’t answer.

    Oakey accepted, but got off to an awkward start, struggling to sing around the rest of the band, and only possessing one instrument – a saxophone – which he couldn’t really play. But they persisted and Ware decided a change of name could give them a second chance with record companies. In early 1978, he suggested they become The Human League, named after a group from the science fiction board game Star Force: Alpha Centauri. The Human League wanted greater independence from Earth – in the game I mean, not Ware, Marsh and Oakey.

    The Human League released a demo tape with Future material thrown in. Ware’s friend Paul Bower from local new wave act 2.3 alerted the Edinburgh-based label Fast Product, who he had recently signed with. Thus, the first Human League single Being Boiled was released (for a long time, I thought Being Boiled (Fast Version) was an incorrect description of the pace of the record). Being Boiled was catchy, but it was not pop. Oakey’s lyrics, combining a protest against silk farming with Eastern religion, were his first contribution to the group.

    The Human League’s first live performance came that summer at Sheffield’s Psalter Lane Art College – now known as Sheffield Hallam University. The trio were concerned about live shows beforehand, and more so afterwards, but hope came in the form of Oakey’s friend Philip Adrian Wright, who went from audience member to the band’s Director of Visuals. A session for John Peel followed, as well as dates supporting The Rezillos and Siouxsie and the Banshees. None other than David Bowie saw one of their live shows and declared in the NME that he had witnessed the future of pop music.

    Not that you could tell that from their next release. The Dignity of Labour EP contained four experimental instrumentals and didn’t perform well, but this combined with the growing support of their contemporaries helped them get noticed. After supporting Iggy Pop in June 1979, they signed with Virgin Records, taking Fast Records label owner Bob Last as their manager.

    The problem was, Virgin insisted they use conventional instruments and vocals. As a compromise, they released the disco-influenced single I Don’t Depend on You, which featured two female backing singers… as The Men. It didn’t chart. They were allowed to continue with their old style and released their debut album Reproduction in August. It was patchy at best, and although the single Empire State Human was promising, it didn’t compare with Tubeway Army’s Are ‘Friends’ Electric?. Gary Numan was taking any momentum The Human League might have initially had.

    Nevertheless, 1980 showed promise when Holiday ’80 EP almost cracked the top 40. Produced by John Leckie, who had worked with XTC and Simple Minds, it included an excellent new version of Being Boiled and closed with a medley of Gary Glitter’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Part 2 with Pop’s Nightclubbing. The Human League made their Top of the Pops debut with a performance of the former.

    In May 1980 Wright began playing keyboards during live gigs as well as looking after visuals, and they released their second album, Travelogue. It was an improvement on Reproduction – particularly The Black Hit of Space, which sounded ahead of its time. But tensions were growing. Oakey and Ware had often disagreed about their direction, with the former fancying a more commercial sound whereas Ware wanted to continue a more esoteric, totally electronic manifesto. Numan’s success with Cars and Virgin’s refusal to release anything else from Travelogue brought matters to a head, and Ware decided to walk out, taking Marsh with him. With a tour imminent, this was a disaster.

    Last tried to sort the situation out, suggesting two new bands under a Human League sub-label, but Ware and Marsh wouldn’t return. It was agreed that Oakey could keep the name and they went on to form Heaven 17 with Gregory, based on the reference to a fictional pop band in Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange. Interestingly, before that, they formed British Electric Foundation, and released albums featuring modern acts covering famous songs with their electronics as backing. Heaven 17 was just one BEF act.

    Although Oakey got to keep the group name, this was in effect a poisoned chalice at this point. All Human League debts and commitments were his, including ensuring Ware and Marsh got one percent in royalties from the next Human League LP. Not only that, the media were, understandably, laughing at Oakey. How the hell was he going to get anywhere? Wright hadn’t written a song as yet and was new to playing keyboards. The musical talent had gone and the tour was literally days away.

    It’s a well-known anecdote, but it bares repeating, that Oakey decided to hire a female backing vocalist and scoured the clubs of Sheffield. He visited the Crazy Daisy Nightclub and chanced upon two 17-year-olds on the dancefloor. A desperate Oakey, in an image that brings to mind Rita, Sue and Bob Too (1980) if his girlfriend wasn’t also there with him, asked Susan Ann Sulley and Joanne Catherall to join The Human League as dancers and backing vocalists. Once they agreed to be on board, he had to approach their parents, who agreed, providing Oakey promised to keep them safe. The new line-up was completed by professional musician Ian Burden from local group Graph on keyboards. However, despite Oakey’s moves, the tour was scoffed at by the music press, who slated Sulley and Catherall. The girls returned to sixth form education.

    With Virgin still pressuring The Human League for reasons to keep them on the label, Oakey and Wright recorded and released the single Boys and Girls in February 1981. It was similar to the kind of songs recorded by the previous line-up and only reached 46, but Virgin decided what was missing was a decent producer. In a genius move, The Human League were paired with Martin Rushent, who had worked with Buzzcocks, Shirley Bassey and Joy Division. Rushent’s first move was to get the group out of Sheffield, where they still shared a studio with Heaven 17, and offer a fresh start at his Berkshire studio.

    The first fruits of this pairing were the call-to-arms single The Sound of the Crowd. Sulley and Catherall were now on board as official members and on backing vocals, and Burden was also offered a full-time job. It was catchy as hell and perfectly timed, capturing the imagination of electronic music fans and New Romantic poseurs alike. The single peaked at 12 that spring. At last, some momentum.

    Last reckoned one more professional on board could really guarantee future hits, and so he suggested guitarist Jo Callis, formerly guitarist with The Rezillos, who he had managed. The new line-up recorded one of the most enduring Human League tracks, Love Action (I Believe in Love). Released in July and soaring to three in the charts a month later, The Human League had proven the naysayers wrong and against all odds, were now bona fide pop stars. Sully and Catherall dropped plans to go to university and the group convened to assemble the album that would cement their reputation. As Shaun Ryder would later say, ‘It’s Dare‘.

    Dare was released in October and preceded by another great single, Open Your Heart, which was a number six hit. Dare was huge, even causing the Musicians Union to publicly condemn it for potentially putting ‘real’ musicians out of a job. After it went to number 1, Virgin executive Simon Draper insisted the album should be mined for one more single. Oakey wasn’t happy with Draper’s choice. It was a song that the singer considered to be the weakest on Dare, which he had relegated to the last track on the album. Amazingly, the track was Don’t You Want Me.

    Dare’s closer had been inspired by a photo story in a teen girl magazine. Originally conceived and recorded as a song solely from the point of view of the male protagonist. But, inspired by the romantic drama A Star Is Born (1976), he veered towards a troubled romantic duet. With two female backing vocalists in the group, he was spoiled for choice. Pure luck of the draw meant Sulley got the gig. ‘Romantic’ is perhaps the wrong word for this bitter power play snapshot between a man who falls for a cocktail waitress and ‘five years later on’ is being left behind. However, he’s not going down without a fight and threatens ‘I can put you back down too’.

    Callis and Wright created a synth score to accompany Oakey’s bitter lyrics, which was initially harsher than the finished article. They really struck gold when they hit upon the guitar-synth melody that accompanied the chorus, which came about by happy accident caused by a computer error that played the line a half-beat out of time. Rushent and Callis loved the end result but Oakey thought it was largely shit – which is perhaps why he recorded his vocal in the studio toilets. An experience that went on longer than he’d have liked due to Callis repeatedly flushing a toilet by reaching in through an open window.

    Review

    You don’t need me to tell you what a totally brilliant song Don’t You Want Me is. But you might want me to explain why it not only endures as the years go by. Why it is never boring. It’s never annoying, no matter how many times you hear it. Were it not for Pet Shop Boys’ Always On My Mind, this would be the best Christmas number 1 of the 80s.

    There is something innately brilliant in these early 80s electronic British number 1s, in the same way there was back in 1963 when The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and similar acts pushed the envelope. The technology is primitive (though incredibly futuristic in 1981 – so much so, the Musicians’ Union had felt obliged to show everyone just how threatened they felt). Don’t You Want Me is one of the best of the bunch.

    Oakey’s decision to keep The Human League going and moving in a pop direction when their split happened has of course proven how wise he was. But his feelings towards this song were definitely wrong. It’s incredible to discover he considered it an afterthought and shoved it at the end of Dare. At the time, he and Rushent often disagreed about their work, but the producer was absolutely right to add a glossy, commercial sound to Don’t You Want Me. It’s that brightness, that colour, and simplicity of sound that made the album so huge.

    Oakey didn’t give himself enough credit either. The concept of basing a duet around love is as old as time. But a duet that was possessive, cold and cynical, was new. The word ‘love’ doesn’t even come into the equation until Sulley admits her feelings near the end.

    Of course, everything comes together for that total banger of a chorus, which will be drunkenly shouted by men and women on dancefloors for evermore. If The Human League’s story was made into a film, Don’t You Want Me would be the perfect happy ending. Oh, and hats off to Sulley too, who’s vocal is both deadpan and somehow emotional at the same time.

    Another element that is definitely worth a mention is the video, directed by Steve Barron, who created some of the most memorable pop videos of the era, including Dire Straits’ Money for Nothing and a-ha’s Take On Me. Shot on 35mm film, Don’t You Want Me really stands out due to its cinematic feel. The storyline, of a director’s struggles to make a film, was inspired by the French film Day for Night. Oakey, Sulley and Callis really stand out and could have perhaps made great actors. It could be argued that Oakey proved his worth in his cameo in Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer’s amazing 1992 pilot The Weekenders

    After

    Don’t You Want Me held firm at the top of the pops for five weeks and was the biggest-selling single of 1981. The Human League were in so much demand that the stereo remix of the Fast Product version of Being Boiled was re-released in January 1982 and soared to six. Don’t You Want Me then scored the group a US number 1 that summer. Later that year, an instrumental version of Dare called Love and Dancing and credited to The League Unlimited Orchestra was also a hit. They very nearly achieved two Christmas chart-toppers in a row when the Motown-influenced Mirror Man was kept from the top by Renée and Renato’s Save Your Love. Disgraceful. In 1983 they reached two once more, this time with (Keep Feeling) Fascination. This marked the end of the always fractious working relationship with Rushent, who walked out during initial sessions for their next LP.

    Hysteria (1984), produced by Hugh Padgham and Chris Thomas, divided fans and critics alike, and The Human League’s commercial powers waned. The singles – The Lebanon, Life on Your Own and Louise, reached 11, 16 and 13 respectively. Oakey’s collaboration with one of his idols, Giorgio Moroder, was deservedly more successful, as Together in Electric Dreams – from the soundtrack to Electric Dreams (1984), peaked at three.

    The Human League, once at the forefront of electronic music, struggled to adapt to rapidly advancing technology as the 80s progressed. Callis, who had helped write some of their biggest hits, quit and was replaced by drummer Jim Russell, closely followed by Last. In 1985 they shelved material for their next album due to disagreements with producer Colin Thurston, so Virgin paired them with hip hitmakers Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis. At first the signs were good, as the single Human was a number eight hit in 1986, but the other singles released from Crash sank rapidly. Wright left soon after, and Burden departed in 1987.

    There were more line-up changes and poor results as the 90s began. Romantic? (1990) featured a line-up bolstered by keyboardist Neil Sutton and guitarist/keyboardist Russell Dennett, and even Callis returned to help. But although Heart Like a Wheel was a minor hit, reaching 29 in 1990, Virgin dropped The Human League two years later.

    Oakey’s mental health suffered and he lost confidence in his abilities, but after recording an EP with Yellow Magic Orchestra in 1993, EastWest Records signed The Human League and paired them with producer Ian Stanley, formerly of Tears for Fears. The first fruits, Tell Me When, was released on Boxing Day 1994, and was a well-deserved hit, peaking at six. Sounding very of its time, but reminiscent of material from Dare, The Human League were back in vogue, and the parent album Octopus scored a further hit with One Man in My Heart. A remix of Don’t You Want Me even made it to 16.

    A change in management at EastWest saw The Human League without a record deal and although they signed with Papillon Records in 2001 and released the album Secrets, it sank commercially. They joined the nostalgia circuit. However, in 2008 Oakey had a great idea – The Steel City Tour. The Human League teamed up with Heaven 17 and ABC to celebrate the music of the early 80s that came from Sheffield. Oakey and Ware had buried the hatchet – whether it was genuine or for the sake of a moneyspinner, I don’t know, but I’d have loved to seen it.

    The Human League’s last album to date is Credo, which was released in 2011. This would suggest there may be no more to come, but if so, that’s fine. Oakey and co. should be more than content with their legacy, and especially this song, which went from an afterthought to a single that made them pop immortals.

    The Outro

    Don’t You Want Me became a top 20 hit for the third time in 2014, reaching 19 as a result of a social media campaign by fans of Aberdeen FC, who one week earlier had won the Scottish League Cup. They had turned the chorus into a terrace chant of ‘Peter Pawlett baby’ in honour of their midfielder.

    The Info

    Written by

    Jo Callis, Philip Oakey & Philip Adrian Wright

    Producers

    Martin Rushent & The Human League

    Weeks at number 1

    5 (12 December 1981-15 January 1982) *BEST-SELLING SINGLE OF THE YEAR*

    Trivia

    Births

    15 December 1981: Actresses Michelle Dockery/Victoria Summer
    21 December: Cricketer Sajid Mahmood
    28 December: Singer-songwriter Frank Turner
    29 December: Actress Charlotte Riley
    1 January 1982: Footballer Luke Rodgers/Television host Gemma Hunt
    4 January: Footballer Richard Logan
    6 January: Actor Eddie Redmayne
    9 January: Catherine, Princess of Wales/Conservative MP Robert Jenrick

    Deaths

    15 December 1981: Journalist Claud Cockburn
    16 December: Engineering manager Rose Winslade
    17 December: Opera singer Sybil Gordon
    1 January 1982: Actress Margot Grahame
    2 January: Conservative MP Sir Tam Galbraith
    4 January: Wykeham Cornwallis, 2nd Baron Cornwallis
    11 January: Actor Ronald Lewis/Army major-general Sir Kenneth Strong
    12 January: Army major-general Frank Crowther Roberts

    Meanwhile…

    19 December 1981: An opinion poll showed Margaret Thatcher had become the most unpopular postwar British prime minister, and that the SDP-Liberal Alliance had the support of up to 50% of the electorate.

    20 December: The Penlee lifeboat disaster occurred off the coast of Cornwall. The mini-bulk carrier MV Union Star‘s engines had failed in heavy seas, so the lifeboat Solomon Browne went to the rescue. But sometime after the lifeboat had rescued four people, both vessels were lost with all hands. 16 people died, including eight volunteer liefeboatmen.

    1 January 1982: The new year began with three new regional TV stations on ITV – Central, TVS (Television South) and TSW (Television South West), replacing ATV Midlands, the incredibly bitter Southern Television and Westward Television respectively.

    2 January: The Welsh Army of Workers claimed responsibility for a bomb explosion at the Birmingham headquarters of Severn Trent Water.

    10-15 January: The extremely cold winter that began in December 1981 continued with the lowest-ever UK temperature of -27.2C recorded at Braemar in Aberdeenshire.

    442. Gary Numan – Cars (1979)

    The Intro

    Four days after Tubeway Army went to number 1 with the influential new wave sound of Are ‘Friends’ Electric?, singer-songwriter and producer Gary Numan had dropped the band name and recorded a John Peel session as a solo artist. His next single, Cars, was a stone cold electro-pop classic and a deserved second chart-topper.

    Before

    Numan was already working on his debut solo LP, The Pleasure Principle, when Tubeway Army promoted Are ‘Friends’ Electric? on Top of the Pops. Paul Gardiner remained on bass, but Cedric Sharpley was the drummer and their ranks were bolstered by Ultravox keyboardist Billy Currie (his band were on hiatus) on violin and Chris Payne on keyboards. This line-up were now, in effect, just Numan’s backing band.

    The Pleasure Principle was recorded in London’s Marcus Music Studio and saw Numan drop guitars altogether in favour of an almost entirely electronic array of instruments, with most sounds emanating from a Minimoog and Polymoog, played by either himself or Payne. As with Tubeway Army’s Replicas album, most of his lyrics were sci-fi based, focusing on subject matters including the last machine left on Earth.

    A more contemporary and down-to-earth lyrical concept was Cars, which Numan later claimed was written before Are ‘Friends’ Electric? and his first attempt at a straightforward pop song. The lyrics were inspired by a road rage incident, in which the singer claimed he was in a traffic jam in London when people in the car in front got out and tried to pull him from his car and attack him. Numan locked the doors and managed to get away by driving on the pavement.

    In addition to vocals and synths, Numan provided synthetic percussion alongside Sharpley’s drums and percussion. Gardiner and Payne were also involved but Currie wasn’t. The Minimoog was mostly used to augment that classic bass riff, while the Polymoog provided the icy synthetic string accompaniment.

    Review

    Numan later described Cars as ‘pretty average’ but it’s one of the best number 1s of 1979. Musically, like Are ‘Friends’ Electric?, it’s incredibly simple, but that’s part of the charm and why the public took to it so well and it’s still so fondly remembered. That riff is of course the main weapon to hook listeners in, but I love the proto-New Romantic Polymoog sound that heralds the early-80s pop production sound.

    It’s fascinating to hear Numan come at cars from a different angle to Kraftwerk, who of course were a huge influence on Numan. Whereas the German electronic pioneers had written Autobahn as a lengthy love song to driving on the motorway, Cars is short and to the point. Numan sees his vehicle as sanctuary from the outside world, locking himself away from human contact.

    ‘Here in my car,
    I feel safest of all,
    I can lock all my doors,
    It’s the only way to live,
    In cars’

    As someone with Asperger’s, it’s fair to say Numan is probably writing about himself here. However, as the song progresses (and there’s actually few lyrics here at all – the second half of the song is instrumental), Numan realises he actually does need companionship: ‘Will you visit me please/If I open my door’. The door is literally left open as the song plays out.

    Looking at the song another way, it’s perhaps a take on a near-future. Numan plays up his android persona with that Bowie-like vocal technique, giving the impression of a human stripped of emotion, driving round a dystopian landscape in which people no longer interact.

    Of course, most people lost likely just liked it because it was really memorable and a song about cars is somewhat of a novelty, and guaranteed to be used on a million TV shows whenever a song about cars is needed, because why not, it’s the song Cars?

    In the video, Numan and co play up the Kraftwerk similarities even more. Starting with Numan standing alone on a pyramid stage (in a nod to the artwork for The Pleasure Principle, in which Numan stares at a small pyramid on a desk), he’s then joined by the rest of his band, who all stand emotionless, joining Numan in acting like robots. Ruining this somewhat is Sharpley, who is in classic rock drummer mode, seemingly playing a totally different song to everyone else. Then, there’s five Numans holding imaginary steering wheels as on the single’s sleeve, stood on a giant Polymoog. It’s a fun, cool study in new wave electronic cool.

    After

    Released on 21 August, a month later Cars was in pole position in the UK. It did very well elsewhere too, earning him his first (and, alas, only) US hit, peaking at nine. The Pleasure Principle went to number 1 in the UK album chart, and the next single, Complex, reached six.

    The following year came the album Telekon, featuring a larger array of synths but returning guitars to the mix. It spawned two top 10 singles – We Are Glass (five) and I Die: You Die (six). Never much of a fan of touring back then, he announced his retirement from performing live and said goodbye with live shows at Wembley Arena. Soon after came a new album, Dance in which Numan began to move away from the electro-pop sound, just as it exploded across the charts courtesy of the New Romantic movement. It featured Queen drummer Roger Taylor. It’s one single, She’s Got Claws, went to six.

    As up-and-comers such as Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, The Human League and Duran Duran started notching up hits, Numan’s commercial fortunes declined. Although the 1982 album I, Assassin included the excellent funk sound of Music for Chameleons (as mimed to by Steve Coogan in I’m Alan Partridge) and We Take Mystery (To Bed), the latter was his last top 10 single to date, peaking at nine.

    1983 album Warriors saw Numan explore jazz-funk further and he announced his return to touring. It was his last LP for Beggar’s Banquet and he released several on his own label, Numa. Berserker (1984) featured samplers for the first time but was his least successful release at that point. The Fury didn’t do much better a year later but Strange Charm in 1986 did at least feature two top 30 singles – This Is Love (28) and I Can’t Stop (27). However, it was the last release on Numa.

    In 1987 Beggar’s Banquet released a remix of Cars to promote a greatest hits compilation. The E Reg Model remix is pretty good – I don’t know who’s behind the production but there’s some nice touches added and it avoids the trap of many mid-80s remixes of veering off into bombastic production. It deservedly reached 16.

    Numan signed with IRS but they angered him by changing the 1988 album Metal Rhythm to New Anger and remixing it against his wishes. After 1991’s Outland he reactivated Numa but Machine + Soul marked a low ebb, released mainly to try and pay off debts. With moral support from his future wife Gemma, Numan decided to give up on trying to rekindle his pop career and instead begin writing more personally. The result, Sacrifice, proved timely. Released in 1994, he played all the instruments himself and created a dark, industrial sound, just as bands he had influenced, like Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson, began to gain popularity.

    Numan shut down his label permanently as his critical stock began to rise once more. A third remix of Cars (this one was known as ‘The Premier Mix’; there had been an unnamed one in 1993) charted in 1996 after its use on an advert for Carling Premier. Similar in sound to the ‘E Reg’ version, it earned Numan his first top 20 song in nine years, motoring to 17. The albums Exile (1997) and Pure (2000) were lavished with critical praise and Rip, from the latter, reached 29 in 2002.

    With Scottish industrial singer Rico, he scored a number 13 hit in 2003. Quite a remarkable comeback. He also provided vocals for dance music duo Plump DJs that year. With money coming in once more, Numan launched Mortal Records and released Jagged in 2006, accompanied by a successful tour. Two years later, to commemorate his 30th year in music, he toured the Tubeway Army LP Replicas (1979) in its entirety.

    In 2011 Numan released Dead Son Rising and collaborated with US experimental rock outfit Battles. Two years later came the eagerly awaited Splinter (Songs from a Broken Mind), which became his bestselling album in 30 years, only to be overtaken by the sequel, a concept album about a post-apocalyptic world caused by global warming. Savage (Songs from a Broken World) was his most popular release since Telekon.

    Numan’s 21st and latest album, Intruder, was released in 2021. Over the decades he’s gone from being reviled by some, and/or a figure of fun (he’s said in recent years how announcing his support for Margaret Thatcher did lasting damage) to a respected figure in music. And rightly so, because his two number 1s are brilliant.

    The Outro

    Now 63, he won’t ever be admired to the level of David Bowie and Kraftwerk, who he was often accused of ripping off, but he’s stuck it out and influenced many through the years. And all along, his hardcore devotees, the Numanoids, have stuck with him through thick and thin.

    The Info

    Written & produced by

    Gary Numan

    Weeks at number 1

    1 (22-28 September)

    Trivia

    Births

    22 September: Labour MP Rebecca Long-Bailey
    28 September: Gymnast Annika Reeder

    Deaths

    27 September: Comedian Gracie Fields/Wings guitarist Jimmy McCulloch

    Meanwhile…

    25 September: Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher opens the new Central Milton Keynes Shopping Centre. The then-largest indoor shopping centre in Britain had taken six years to build.

    439. Tubeway Army – Are ‘Friends’ Electric? (1979)

    The Intro

    Derided by detractors as a David Bowie and Kraftwerk wannabe, Gary Numan in fact had two startlingly good number 1s in 1979 and helped point the direction of pop into the 80s.

    Before

    Gary Anthony James Webb was born 8 March 1958 in Hammersmith, London. A shy, only child, Webb’s parents adopted his father’s nephew John when he was seven. Later, John would serve in Numan’s backing band.

    Webb attended schools in Stanwell and Ashford in Surrey, then Slough, Berkshire, followed by Brooklands Technical College in Weybridge, Surrey. As a teenager he joined the Air Training Corps and then tried his hand as a forklift truck driver, an air conditioning ventilator fitter and accounts clerk.

    More important to him than these jobs was his hobby – music. When he was 15, Webb’s father had bought him a Gibson Les Paul guitar. He would play in various bands and would often scour the ads in Melody Maker for opportunities. Among the bands he auditioned for were a group of unknowns calling themselves The Jam.

    As a teen, Webb had seen a child psychiatrist, who diagnosed him with Asperger’s and put him on medication. This added to his detached, robotic persona when he became famous, and explained his awkwardness in interviews.

    As punk broke out in 1976, Webb wanted in on the action. Many groups of disaffected youths were sprouting up singing songs of alienation, which appealed to the awkward young Londoner. He joined Mean Street, then The Lasers as their guitarist, which is where he met bassist Paul Gardiner. Soon, the duo and drummer Bob Simmonds became Tubeway Army. Simmonds didn’t last long and was replaced by Webb’s uncle Jess Lidyard. The trio took on a pseudonym each – Webb became Valerian, Gardiner became Scarlett and Lidyard was Rael.

    Tubeway Army became a fixture on the London punk scene, with Webb taking charge of songwriting and vocals. In March 1978 they recorded an album’s worth of demos (released in 1984 as The Plan), which earned them a recording contract with Beggars Banquet Records. On the day debut single That’s Too Bad was released, Webb quit his job in a warehouse.

    He may have thought he’d done so too soon when neither this spiky single or its follow-up, the more rock-based Bombers (featuring Sean Burke on guitar and Barry Benn on drums), dented the charts. In July, between the release of these two singles, Tubeway Army quit live shows after violence flared at a shared gig with The Skids. Numan decided they should be a studio-only project.

    With Lidyard back in the fold they recorded their eponymous debut. Punk influences remained but there was also a progression towards their future new wave sound. Importantly, the pseudonyms were dropped, and Webb was now Gary Numan, after being inspired by a Yellow Pages advert for a plumber called Arthur Neumann. Numan had come across a Minimoog synthesiser during recording sessions, and this, together with lyrics influenced by sci-fi writers JG Ballard and Philip K Dick, showed where Tubeway Army were headed next.

    Numan had grown tired of punk and wanted to release this first album under his own name, but his label refused. No singles came from it and Numan quickly moved on to the next album. Recorded December 1978-February 1979 Replicas was musically influenced by Ultravox, Low-era Bowie and Kraftwerk. It was a loose concept album inspired by Dick’s classic Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. The Machmen were androids with cloned human skin, taking orders from the Grey Men and keeping humans in check. The first single from Replicas, Down in the Park, wasn’t a hit, but has proved to be a fan favourite and influenced many rock, Goth and techno acts to come.

    Around this time, Numan had his first taste of the mainstream recording Don’t Be a Dummy for a freaky advert for Lee Cooper jeans. I’m glad I was only a few months old when this was shown on TV, as it would have scared the shit out of me.

    Replicas was released 4 April 1979, and Are ‘Friends’ Electric? on 4 May. It was originally two separate songs – most likely the verses, written on an old out-of-tune piano, and the spoken word sections. As usual, Gardiner and Lidyard featured as a traditional rhythm section, but Numan was at the forefront with a selection of synths. There was a Minimoog, a Polymoog, an ARP Odyssey and an RMI Electrapiano. Together, they created an unusual, magnificent sound. It was at once the sound of a gigantic, lumbering machine, destroying anything in its path, and a clumsy, knackered old robot that was breaking down. Numan also added heavily flanged guitar parts. A demo version is available, sounding pretty much the same as the single, but with a more awkward vocal from Numan, in a lower key.

    Review

    By not being as musically gifted as Bowie, nor as refined as Kraftwerk, Numan created something influenced by them, yet totally new. It’s such an odd number 1, even for the time it was released. As the decade came to an end and Thatcherism began its iron grip, there was clearly an air of nihilism and fear for the future in the air, with Are ‘Friends’ Electric? and Another Brick in the Wall (Part II) topping the charts. Yes, new wave was more chart-friendly than punk, but it maintained its predecessor’s edge. There’s an argument here for this perhaps being the first New Romantic number 1.

    Tubeway Army looked ahead to what may be in store for civilisation. The lyrics to Are ‘Friends’ Electric?, as with most of those on Replicas, came from short stories Numan had written about how he predicted London would be in 30 years time. The ‘friends’ in question here are robots that resemble humans (Numan?) that come to your door offering various services. Among them are prostitutes.

    Numan’s lyrics here are often forgotten compared to the futuristic sound, but they are great. They’re dark, desperate and mysterious. I love the scene the first verse sets, and you can easily imagine it at the start of a novel:

    ‘It’s cold outside,
    And the paint’s peeling off of my walls,
    There’s a man outside
    In a long coat, grey hat, smoking a cigarette’

    His vocal performance mirrors that of the synths, awkward, primitive, and the Cockney tones make the resemblance to Bowie very clear. The spoken word sections are probably the weakest link in that sense, somewhat buried in the mix, which is frustrating as they suggest a more emotional Numan, describing a romance that ended badly. The first section ends with ‘I don’t think it meant anything to you’ and the second, ‘You see it meant everything to me’.

    Or is he describing the encounter with the ‘friend’. It’s unusual for a number 1 to only mention the song’s title once, and it appears in the final chorus. Did the singer not realise ‘friends’ are not human? It only seems to have become apparent when it broke down. At what point did it malfunction? Hope it wasn’t in the middle of the act…

    Despite being over five minutes long, Are ‘Friends’ Electric? doesn’t outstay its welcome. I could listen to a version twice the length. I want to know what happens next to Numan, and that piano riff is so good I’ll never tire of it. The fact it lasted at number 1 for a month suggests this wasn’t an oddity that ended up at the top by accident, and again, I’d put that down to the riff. Strip away all the futurism and it’s still just very catchy.

    After

    Also helping Are ‘Friends’ Electric? was Beggars Banquet’s decision to release a picture disc featuring Numan’s scary android visage peering out at the listener. Picture discs were still unusual in 1979, but became more popular from here on in. Tubeway Army’s performances on The Old Grey Whistle Test and Top of the Pops vindicated their frontman’s belief he was the star, with an emotionless Numan front and centre. This was the last release by Tubeway Army.

    The Outro

    22 years later, producer Richard X had begun releasing mash-ups under the name Girls on Top. One of the first was We Don’t Give a Damn About Our Friends, which combined the music from Are ‘Friends’ Electric? with US R’n’B singer Adina Howard’s 1995 hit Freak Like Me. Island Records loved it and wanted their girl trio Sugababes to record it. Richard X produced the new version in his flat in Tooting giving it more of a pop sheen but retaining the rawness. Released in 2002, the excellent Freak Like Me became Sugababes’ first number 1. Numan preferred it to Are ‘Friends’ Electric?.

    Trivia

    Writer & producer

    Gary Numan

    Weeks at number 1

    4 (30 June-27 July)

    Trivia

    Births

    25 July: Snooker player Allister Carter

    Deaths

    16 July: Countertenor Alfred Deller

    Meanwhile…

    5 July: The Queen attended the millennium celebrations of the Isle of Man’s Parliament, Tynwald.

    12 July: Kiribai became independent of the UK.

    17 July: Middle-distance runner Sebastian Coe broke his first world record, for running a mile in Oslo.

    23 July: The Conservative government announced £4 billion worth of public spending cuts.

    26 July: The new Education Act repealed the 1976 Act and allowed local education authorities to retain selective secondary schools.