‘At least we can all stop pretending to hate Spandaus and start really hating them’

That this is the stuff I grew up reading should explain a lot.

Just flipping through my two Rock Yearbooks (1982 and 82), and getting dust all over myself.

Was looking for, and found, the story (just an aside, really) about Bruce Springsteen during his big breakthrough UK tour, having “employed fake doctors to pretend to drag him from the stage during his show.”

This lucky guy has the whole set, and culls a few representative reviews:

Howard Jones’ Humans Lib: “I can think only of a kid who’s been given a Rolf Harris Stylophone for Christmas and thinks he’s Gandhi.” – Melody Maker

Scritti Politti’s Songs to Remember: “Music for intelligent, sensitive and confused middle-class youth living in very small rooms.” — NME

Simple Minds’ New Gold Dream (81-82-83-84): “Cluttered, constipated, formulated fear straining for an arty fart.” – NME

Tears for Fears’ The Hurting: “The perfect group for all those fucked up, ‘what are we going to do with our lives’ student types who spend every moment wrapped up in their tiny problems and pathetic existence.” – NME

A-ha’s Scoundrel Days: “The hotbed of talent that is A-ha continues to go unrecognized. The critics, the unbelievers, the philistines who see only the glossy posters and the fancy haircuts, will persist in sneering at these Scandinavian saucepots with all the insight and perception of a tree.” – Sounds

Alison Moyet’s Raindancing: “This great white anserine blob called Alison – surname designed to suggest champagne, a nuance of upward mobility (if you’ve got a crane handy) but never forgetting the common touch (she talks like an oik and her lyrics admit that men and women sometimes get into the same bed) – doesn’t she just remind you of a belch?” – Melody Maker

New Order’s Brotherhood: “I can’t decide.” – Melody Maker