Article published in Melody Maker, 9th January, 1982
Altered Images | Fun-filled Images | SHOWBIZ. Amazing what old hippies will sell us after the failure of their own generation. We have only disgust and derision for people who feed fun to us like the bubblegum stuck to the end of their walking sticks.
Adam Ant too has lectured us on showbiz’s merit — of having no merits — on his way through mindless punk to mindless panto. What right do these people have to use their overnight fortunes and consequent chat-show exposure to tell us not to express disgust at this disgusting society?
Is it because they too have benefited handsomely from the freedom shovelled so far down our throats we are in a daze? Sorry, no, we want a share in our destiny as well. Let the older generations who dominate the press rot in hell if they want to, but we will not be dragged with them.
Why then can I recommend Altered Images to you with such enthusiasm? Their records have no direct contact with the major issues of our time, of jobs, of bombs, of control over our lives! But Altered Images‘ carefree silliness, blinkered fun, and obvious non-seriousness in their music isn’t in a pulpit preaching itself as the highest, sole virtue of our time. And that is just how I justify it.
They are not promiscuous with their escapism — if it is escapism at all. Their smile (and forgive me if this smacks of schmaltz) is a good representation of all the hope we possibly could have in wiping off that smirk on the face of the cynics slapping our wrist.
Altered Images | Fun-filled Images
Adam Ant, Duran Duran and the Human League can eat their philosophy after they powder their noses with it, and have their patronisers for afters. I’ll take Altered Images.
Hello Clare, I’m Neil Rowland from Melody Maker.”
We are at the Leeds Daze Of Future Past Festival.
“Hello Neil,” she says in a soft Scottish accent. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
Only Clare could say it without any measure of formality. Clare is a wispish, slightly stooped figure. She isn’t as pretty in the flesh (excuse the manner of speaking) as she appears on television. But she is pretty, and the full beauty of her personality doesn’t appear at all on the television. Although she may look younger she is in fact 20 years old.
She featured in Bill Forsyth’s movie “Gregory’s Girl” which was itself full of heart and warmth. No other roles have been lined up. Why is this?
AT the Leeds festival Altered Images made me realise what good fun is without reminding me (with their brightness and colour) of the epicentre of a nuclear explosion. I did refer to her as a delinquent Shirley Temple who had run away from nursery school and hid in a pop group, but couldn’t find bondage trousers to fit her (simple this isn’t it?) but all this was in good fun.
Previous to Leeds I had seen Altered Images only twice — both times I found Clare too attractive to listen to the music properly (I hope I’m treading the bounds of sexism correctly).
Altered Images | Fun-filled Images
I still don’t listen to them a lot —mainly because I found the first LP dreadfully dreary. But I do listen to the good bits . . . which I select from the record with due care, and look forward to their future in 1982.
Altered Images‘ childish image has not been concocted as a marketing device. It has laid the foundation of their success and is the building of their success! It has been exploited to the full.
But this childishness is something which has always been there. The group are (and let’s lay down the schmaltz again kids) a bunch of pals who, when they picked up their instruments, did it in the same spirit as they flicked ice-cream at each other.
This alone may give some people tooth decay, but please, once your dentures have restored your singing voice — discover those indistinct charms which made their early singles such as “A Day’s Wait” and “Dead Popstars” MILDLY GREAT!
Don’t expect that mild greatness to come up as a subject on “Mastermind”. This spirit has kept “Blue Peter” alive for decades, but it hardly deserves detailed sociological analysis, though Clare thinks that John Noakes is the greatest. And I wish him happiness in exile now he has announced his disaffection with the BBC.
Nothing could have struck such a contrast as Altered Images entering the great safe-house of the rock establishment (which we shall call) The Old Grey Farts Test, several weeks after Leeds. They did though — with cheerfulness.
Altered Images | Fun-filled Images
Sat in the space where the audience is to go, Clare tells me: “Well, they asked us to go on the programme last year, but we couldn’t make it. When they rang us up this year and asked us to do it, we couldn’t say no really.”
The major revelation during my day with them in and around The Old Grey Farts Test was that Clare wore Marks & Spencer’s thermal underwear for the recording. Clare finds Marks & Spencer’s most suitable for clothing, and the one-piece thermal underwear suit (plus one white ribbon in her hair) matched the white Marks & Spencer’s children’s socks.
When we were at their hotel I expressed genuine disbelief that such a flattering garment could be a thermal underwear suit. Clare insisted on showing me the label to prove it, and I haven’t been the same since.
IN the orange van Altered Images used to transport themselves from town to town on their nationwide tour, they played a lot of Motown music, Sweet (remember them?) and Simple Minds, amidst more.
Simple Minds seemed to be a fellow Scottish group who they had particular admiration for, and they couldn’t understand how I could possibly put Positive Noise’s LP in my top ten for the year. I told them it probably wouldn’t be now, but I thought the record sounded like the greatest masterpiece ever recorded, until I realised it was one of the worst. They wished they hadn’t asked.
A week later their orange van was stolen, and at the same time Clare caught laryngitis. It was a very nice orange van as I remember. Once during the day it took us to a cafe which the group like and use regularly while they are in London.
The Italian family who own it were already enamoured of them, and in between feeding the group, showed off their children and pets to them.
Altered Images | Fun-filled Images
If you want to know what it feels like to have a big hit single, then the answer from them was that it doesn’t feel like much at all.
“We don’t really think about that,” Timmy replies, after I ask how catastrophic it would be to be ditched by the weenies/teenies as quickly as they took Altered Images to their bosoms.
“We just do what we’re doing,” he smiles shyly.
In these stakes it is pointless to find justification for the group’s very existence. There is no justification at all. What you can like in Altered Images, though, is their unselfconsciousness — which, in a way, excuses their lack of consciousness.
Who else is there we can compare them with? Toyah or Hazel O’Connor? What more horrible symbols could you find to put in comparison to Clare’s clear complexion?
They pedal a horrible morass of gargling and garishness (you name it) under a loose category of pop music, and make heavy of their “art” and “creativity” at the same time.
This reminds me of an incident at the recording of the Christmas edition of “Top Of The Pops”. Altered Images had finished recording their slot and the next one was to be filled by Toyah (in all her glory).
As the wonderful lady had completed her recording already, a video was shown of it so the programme planner could keep time.
“Urgh! My God, my God, have a look at this will you Clare,” shouts Johnny, flapping around like Dick Van Dyke in “Mary Poppins”.
Altered Images | Fun-filled Images
“Whatever does she look like! My God! My God!” We gathered around the monitor and I remember my contribution to this puzzle was “Cleopatra mummified”.
Am I making this straightforward but rather attractive young Scottish pop group sound like a trendy Brady Bunch? I can’t make up my own mind, but I do know their wholesomeness isn’t as illusory as a Colgate ring of confidence.
It is based on very real qualities, not false ones — as may be conveyed by a joke they cracked on to me over the table at the Italian cafe: “This little girl was walking through the park eating a packet of sweets when this flasher jumped out from behind a bush shouting ‘give me one of your sweets little girl’. The little girl replied ‘not until you’ve shown me your cock first`.”
I think this proves beyond doubt that although the group produce clean, respectable records, they haven’t grown-up in an ice-cube. I was left wondering what symbolic relationship that little girl bore to Clare.
AT the recording of “Top Of The Pops” I spoke to John Peel about this quality in Clare. She is very sweet, but seems to know more than she cares to tell us. “There can be no doubt that she is a very knowing little person,” he tells me. “I’m hopelessly infatuated I’m afraid. I have been since the start.”
Top Of The Pops
Clare herself thinks John “is very nice, and very funny.” I still can’t understand why John Peel makes himself sound as round and bald as a space-hopper. He isn’t.
A wonderful thing happened to me at “Top Of The Pops”, actually. Kim Wilde was there. She seems really plastic on telly and in magazines, but in real life she is very real life. When I asked her about her future touring plans and how this might cause over-expectation in the press, she replied: “I don’t give a monkey’s arse for the press!”
I wasn’t really listening. I was glowing! Because Kim was sat on one side of me, and Clare the other. Kim ate a black fruit gum, and Clare a green one when I offered them some. I congratulated Dave Steele from the Beat on their contribution to a “World In Action” programme dealing with youth unemployment.
Up until now I think I have mentioned Clare too much, and not the rest of the group. Well, I couldn’t begin to describe them properly, and so in the changing room while “die boys” were drinking in the bar, I put her to work in my notebook – scribbling down all their characteristics. This (insert wicked laughter) is what she wrote . . .
the Images
Clare – “I am the mad attention seeker.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say about herself, or at least she wasn’t letting on.
Johnny “He is the band joker. He loves only one girl, he is definitely a one girl boy. He’s also a of a mummy’s boy.”
Timmy – “He is the shy and sensitive one, and a dab hand at massage. Timmy is a flash dresser, and looks like Donny Osmond.
Titch – (who put a spanner in Jon Blackmore’s smooth photographic machine) “is a loveable drunk. He is also rowdy, and isn’t fussy about the girls.”
Jim Bob “He is mean and moody, and a notorious clothes borrower.”
Towards the bottom of the page, she wrote:
“Cheesy, our roady„ is a super human being, and Kathleen is my famous sis,”
I have actually met the famous Kathleen (Clare isn’t allowed to call her Kathy) who is similar to Clare. Whatever happened to my logic?
These characters, so lovingly drawn by Clare, form the Enid Blyton type fun five in Altered Images, Enid Blyton? Did I mention . . .
The Fun Five Make Their Way To Top Of The Pops.
CLARE leant out through the window over Titch. She waved wildly to father as the train pulled away from the station. Father waved back more placidly. He wiped the sleep from the corners of his eyes until they were sore and he had to rub them again, and again.
“Clare„ you’re hurting me!” Titch cried. He was flustered, but half laughed as he rubbed his elbow, You pushed me against sharp edge.”
Train journey
Clare laughed. “Sorry Titch, she gurgled. I didn’t see you under there.” She came away from the window because the train was picking up speed.
Everyone roared with laughter. They knew Clare was referring to his size. Titch laughed too because he knew Clare meant it good-heartedly.
During the journey Clare was told off by a passenger for doing handstands in the carriage, and balancing on top of her seat. Johnny cried because he was missing his mummy. Titch teased Jim Bob who was in a mood. Timmy sat in the corner reading.
After a while they quietened down, except when Titch noticed Jim Bob had accidentally fallen asleep with his thumb in his mouth and made everyone laugh at him. A ticket collector threatened to throw them off at Crewe – so they were quiet again.
I hope you know enough about the boys’ characters. A couple (or one) of them are sons of a Labour MP. Or maybe this is just legend.
The one thing I dread to think about is the prospect of Clare Grogan becoming a Baby Jane type caricature if the group’s cookie crumbles. For the moment their success is mere fun – out of hand.
Remember – it is fun and if it doesn’t make the slightest protest, it does remind us of what we are protesting for. And the fun isn’t force-fed either. (Neil Rowland)
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