POP MUSIC: KEVIN COURTNEYreviews Wild Boy: My LIfe in Duran Duranby Andy Taylor, Orion, 290pp, £18.99
WHAT HAPPENS when a young north of England lad, raised on rock 'n' roll, joins up with a bunch of fashion-conscious Brummies and forms a poncey pop combo named after a character in Barbarella? Quite a lot, actually. Duran Duran may not have been rip-snorting monsters of rock, but during their glittering rise in the first half of the 1980s, they packed in enough adventures to fill a Bond movie.
Their version of 007 would open with the obligatory high society scene, in this case the Rum Runner nightclub in Birmingham, where Duran Duran rehearsed by day and partied by night. Our five pouting heroes, resplendent in eyeliner and feather-cuts, are surrounded by local fashionistas and cooed over by gorgeous young models.
The action switches to London, as Duran Duran attempt to infiltrate the capital’s louche New Romantic scene, locking horns with their arch-enemies, Spandau Ballet. Spandau are easily bested by Duran, who are soon being pursued by real-life Bond girls, all hungry to be part of this new glam takeover.
Cut to Sri Lanka, where the band are chased by angry monks, incensed that their sacred temple is being used as the setting for a pop video, and then back to London, where the band uncovers an IRA plot to kill them along with members of the royal family. Throw in a yachting accident, a few wild parties and copious amounts of drink, drugs and supermodel sandwiches, and you’ve got the makings of a serious rock ’n’ roll action flick. Beat that, Mötley Crue.
Andy Taylor was just 19 when he hopped on a train to Birmingham in 1980 to audition for a new band influenced by The Spiders from Mars, Roxy Music, Chic and The Sex Pistols. He was born and raised in the tiny fishing village of Cullercoats, and his mother had walked out on the family when young Andy was starting grammar school. The teenager channelled his anger into playing guitar, and soon was performing in local bands, doing covers of AC/DC and Lynyrd Skynyrd. After a stint playing US military bases in Germany, Taylor answered an ad in Melody Maker, and met his new bandmates, bassist John Taylor, drummer Roger Taylor and keyboard player Nick Rhodes. The band had a name, but no songs, and no singer, their previous vocalist having quit, leaving behind a snatch of melody that later became the chorus for Girls on Film. When a confident singer and lyricist named Simon Le Bon joined, the songs started to come thick and fast.
As the 1980s opened under the shadow of Thatcherism, Duran Duran were determined to celebrate decadence and pleasure, and act as though they were already part of the glitterati. The band's videos played up their glam/high society image, and played a big part in breaking Duran in the US. The explicit video for Girls on Filmand the extravagant video for Rio, shot in Antigua and featuring the band swanning around on a yacht, were just what the nascent MTV generation needed to drive their dreams. It wasn't long before Duran Duran were being referred to as the Fab Five, and being credited with leading the new British invasion.
They socialised in Studio 54 in New York with Andy Warhol, and hung out with INXS singer Michael Hutchence in Australia. Diana, the young bride of Prince Charles, declared Duran Duran her favourite band; they were summoned to perform at a charity concert in the Dominion Theatre in London, unaware that this was the very night the IRA was plotting to blow up the royal party, along with any glam pop band who just happened to be in the vicinity. Luckily for pop music, the IRA man picked to carry out the atrocity turned out to be a double agent, so the band – and the royals – were saved. Another brush with death came when Simon Le Bon’s yacht capsized, trapping the singer beneath the hull.
With all the glamour and glitz came the class A drugs – and when the lines were set out, Taylor was quicker than most on the uptake. The band had set out to celebrate decadence – now they were living it large, and it wasn't long before the tabloids were putting the spotlight on them with such headlines as "I saw Duran Duran go crazy on cocaine". The hype and hedonism eventually took their toll, and by the time the band convened, on July 13th, 1985, to perform their biggest gig – Live Aid in Philadelphia – the five members were barely on speaking terms. Andy and John had been enjoying chart success with their side-project, The Power Station, featuring singer Robert Palmer. Peeved, Le Bon and Rhodes had formed their own side-project, the rather less successful Arcadia. When the five were thrown back together to perform at Live Aid, none of their hearts were in it anymore. Their most recent hit, the theme from 007's A View to A Kill, had become the biggest-selling Bond theme of all time, but the band itself was at the end of its rope. Live Aid should have been Duran Duran's crowning moment; instead, Taylor left the stage at Philadelphia feeling tired, glammed-out and ready to get off the rollercoaster.
Taylor quit Duran Duran in 1986, after which a "watered-down version" of the band lurched on with new guitarist Warren Cuccurullo, enjoying a brief comeback in 1993 with hit single Ordinary World. Meanwhile, Taylor moved to LA with his wife, Tracey, and their kids, and basked in the retrospective glory of having been in one of the biggest pop bands of the day. He shared a jacuzzi with Mötley Crue, wrote and recorded – and drank – with Rod Stewart, hung out with Sex Pistol Steve Jones, and played guitar on Robert Palmer's Addicted to Love. He also recorded and released his own solo work, but though it rocked harder than Duran, it lacked the killer pop hooks of Rio, The Reflexor Hungry Like the Wolf.
Fast forward to the turn of the millennium, and Taylor has rejoined Duran Duran, lured by the chance to relive the glory days and perhaps recoup some of the lost years. Duran are being feted by a new generation of Britpoppers and hip-hoppers, and they’ve been honoured with a Lifetime Achievement award by MTV and an Outstanding Contribution to Music award at the Brits. What better time to stage a comeback and grab the zeitgeist by the short ’n’ curlies? With their reunion gigs selling faster than dotcom domain names, Taylor reckons it is time to record a new Duran Duran album, and really rubber-stamp their return.
But though the noughties have been nice to Duran Duran, and the fans have flocked to the reunion shows, the band have not been able to escape their MTV-generation timewarp. The album, Astronaut, failed to take off, and the old schisms within the band quickly re-established themselves. Taylor found himself battling with other band members over money (he was on a smaller percentage because he'd been out of the band for so long), over their choice of producer (the others wanted to use a hip-hop production team), and over the tortuously slow pace of recording (the album took three years to complete).
If the Duran Duran story started out like a Bond flick, it ended for Taylor like a Mike Leigh film, in a flurry of unresolved issues, bickering, financial wrangling and personal tragedy (his father died of cancer). Taylor quit the band again in 2006, 20 years after first walking out. Duran Duran are still touring, but Taylor has got one over his former bandmates by being first off the blocks with his account of the band’s halcyon days. No doubt the others would tell it a little differently, and perhaps paint Taylor as the contrary one, the party-animal rocker who just couldn’t fit in. Still, though he was largely absent for more than half of the Duran Duran story, at least he was there for the most interesting part.
- Kevin Courtney is an Irish Timesjournalist