Dance: Frankie Goes To Hollywood: Absolute Giganten

Ten years later, the topic of sex was over. Yes, there was this erotic thriller called “Basic Instinct”. But “the piggiest film of all time” (“Bild”) was a deception, the supposed scandal was just a media production. In 1992, the question of whether Sharon Stone’s genitals could be seen for a split second aroused not the moralists but the voyeurs.

Things would have been different in 1982. Religious zealots saw the emergence of AIDS as punishment for a “sinful life.” Some self-appointed moral guardians could hardly hide the malicious joy that accompanied it. The fact that many gays fell victim to the plague was a welcome opportunity to condemn “fornication” and “sexual debauchery.” A new Puritanism threatened to take hold.

But the spirit of the times ended the crusade of the bigots and bigots before it had even begun. Because 1982 was not only the year of panic (because of AIDS, retrofitting and acid rain – even Udo Jürgens warned that it was “5 minutes to 12”), but also the year in which pop was written in capital letters. And one person who was particularly big on POP was producer Trevor Horn. With ABC’s “The Lexicon of Love” he achieved the feat of making the powerful feelings of (disappointed) love acoustically tangible through no less powerful sounds.

But Horn didn’t want to settle for that. At the beginning of 1983 he was made aware of a band called Frankie Goes To Hollywood (FGTH), which, apart from singer Holly Johnson, consisted of average musical talents. Nevertheless, Horn decided to take her under his wing. Band member Paul Rutherford explained it this way: “He thought being gay was the most dangerous thing about us, but that was exactly what he loved. And the fact that we were open about our sexuality.” So the musicians became performers – Horn took care of the sound.

And just as he had found the right sounds for love, he now did the same with the primal forces of desire and war. Only more brutal and bombastic. And longer. Maxi singles had been around since the mid-70s, often with meaningless instrumental and rhythm passages at the beginning and end to make it easier for disc jockeys to mix the individual songs together. But it was FGTH that turned it into an art form, releasing half a dozen different 12-inch versions of the same title, at least. So they managed to stay musically talked about for months with just two songs, “Relax” and “Two Tribes”.

But these were only measures to prolong the hit. The key marketing work was carried out by the head of their record company ZZT Records, the music journalist Paul Morley. In 1981 he described the DAF album “Alles ist gut” in the “New Musical Express” with the words: “slimy, steamy sex music” that contains “the rubbing, the juices, the throbbing, the effort, the gasping, the stickiness… “evoking the smells, rhythms, passions, secretions, darkness and tears of SEX”.

And that’s exactly the image he gave Frankie Goes To Hollywood. Visually celebrating the gay subculture and its fetish scene (leather, bondage, etc.) during the height of AIDS – that was the greatest possible provocation. Of course the BBC refused to play the video. And the song too; After all, “Relax” was about nothing other than sex, which even non-native speakers understood straight away because of the moans, the pumping rhythm and the line “When you wanna come” repeated countless times.

The video for the follow-up single “Two Tribes” was also not allowed to run on the BBC program. It shows how the heads of state of the USSR and the USA, Konstantin Chernenko and Ronald Reagan, engage in a fierce wrestling match. In the end the globe explodes. In keeping with this, Paul Morley had T-shirts printed that documented that FGTH were not only able to provoke sexually, but – as befits a band from the working-class city of Liverpool – also politically. It read slogans like “Frankie Say Arm the Unemployed” and “Frankie Say War! Hide Yourself” (“Tell Frankie: War! Hide!”).

Such slogans could be seen as an expression of overestimation of oneself. And if so! FGTH could allow themselves any form of excess. Because the real bang of a musical year, which Frankie Goes To Hollywood dominated media and commercially from January onwards, was yet to come. On October 29, 1984, a two-single band suddenly became a two-album band. That was rare: their debut album was a double LP. Even more: a magnum opus.

“Welcome to the Pleasuredome” is a monument to megalomania. But one that stands on bombastic pedestals. The programmatic title song sets the tone. The march through follows the sounds of the jungle. The piece has the power of elephants on ecstasy. After just under 14 minutes you’re ready for the oxygen tent – exhausted but happy.

And the rest of the album keeps the endorphin levels up. Trevor Horn wanted everyone to understand that Frankie Goes To Hollywood were one of the greats of POP. It didn’t matter whether FGTH recorded new or old songs. The end result was always the unmistakable FGTH Trevor Horn sound. Even the Bruce Springsteen classic “Born to Run” suddenly sounded like an original piece by FGTH.

This was also due to singer Holly Johnson, who gave a voice to glamour, pathos and rapture. Yes, he even had the courage to re-sing the Burt Bacharach classic “Do you know the way to San Jose”. Lo and behold, it worked. You couldn’t put more elegance into a song. Even Dionne Warwick hadn’t sounded so flattering and homely.

The third single, “The power of love,” was released just in time for Christmas, bringing things full circle. Lust (“Relax”) and war (“Two Tribes”) were followed by the heavenly power of love. That said everything. And with maximum theatrical thunder and emotional exuberance – no escalation possible.

The follow-up work, “Liverpool,” which appeared two years later, served merely as an epilogue. A swansong for a band that had been the brightest in the world for twelve short months. Which makes the wise sentence from the film “Blade Runner,” which was also released in 1982, come true: “The light that burns twice as bright only burns half as long.”