from the LP Visage, Polydor Records, 1980If you study the etiologies of various musical subcultures over the last 50 years or so, you find that many genres initially found their footing within the confines of a single club (sometimes merely a club night), insular underground scenes developing the fulcrum of a full-fledged trend, often without realizing the extent of the exposure which was to come. The short-lived New Romantic movement of the early ‘80s, essentially a fashion-obsessed tributary of the New Wave, is a textbook example of this phenomenon, and the club promoters responsible for creating all that fuss (Steve Strange & Rusty Egan) just happened to also be (good at hiring…) musicians, calling themselves Visage---a name well chosen, given the scene’s propensity for androgyny, excessive use of makeup, and foppish period clothing (see: fancy tranny pirates). This song, Visage’s biggest and most enduring hit, is suitably over-the-top with that lone oscillating monosynth and high-drama lyrics, particularly the nonchalant delivery of some French spoken word. It was all a bit cheeky, and any unabashed celebration of the ersatz in music is usually doomed to a brief shelf-life, but having spawned such polarizing and famous figures as Boy George & Duran Duran, the impact was both real and wide-reaching. Go figure.
