— Caroline Sullivan
Though very much a product of the eighties, synth-pop at the beginning of the nineties did not appear to be slowing down, especially when it came to the big names of the genre. Depeche Mode and Pet Shop Boys both released their finest albums that year (Violator and Behaviour respectively), New Order recorded their sole UK number one single and Erasure were still riding the wave of hit singles from their Wild! album issued late in 1989. Sure, The Human League were faltering with the patchy Romantic? but it had been a while since they'd been at their best anyway.
As 1990 turned into '91, there seemed to be an even greater thirst for angsty, doomed electro pop. Erasure handed in their best album yet (happily, it won't be long before I can go on about the magnificent Chorus in this space), OMD were back and as good as ever and supergroup Electronic were more of a going concern with their self-titled LP and single "Get the Message". Greatest hits albums by the Pet Shops and Soft Cell proved popular, as was the collection from synth-adjacent Eurythmics. Fueled by a mix of irony and genuine interest, eighties nostalgia was already setting in and nothing said 'eighties' more than synth-pop. (It really says it all that eighties nostalgia commenced almost as soon as the decade ended whereas nineties nostalgia took over twenty years to become a thing)
One worrying aspect, however, was that no one new seemed to be stepping up. Late-eighties acts such as Information Society, Kon Kan and When in Rome all had their moments but soon began to fade. It took former members of another synth-pop group to give some fleeting hope to the idea that it was a genre with a future.
Caroline Buckley and Sally Herbert had been in the backing band of The Communards, a synth duo in a world of synth duos. Jimmy Somerville and Richard Coles decided to go their separate ways in 1989 and this opening left Buckley and Herbert to form a pairing of their own. But where The Communards, Pet Shops, Sparks, Yazoo, Eurythmics, Blancmange and Erasure all had at least one male — if not two in most cases — Banderas was an all-female two-piece. (Had anyone been worried that this arrangement would affect the classic synth duo dynamic, keyboardist Herbert fitted in perfectly with the moody Chris Lowe-Vince Clarke other member type)
With an arresting image (Buckley in particular really pulls off having a shaved head) and unique status as all-female, Banderas looked like a promising part of synth's next generation. (Though, in truth, they were no younger than pop veterans Erasure) Though it deserved a bit better, debut single "This Is Your Life" gave them a Top 20 hit in the early part of '91 and they looked to follow its success with more of the same on "She Sells". Not that the latter was just a redo of the former: where their first record happened to be dreamy, soaring and beautifully sung by Buckley, the follow-up proved to be darker and more aggressive.
Sounding not unlike something Propaganda would have come up with back in '85 — either that or a more sinister take on Swing Out Sister's hit "Breakout" — "She Sells" ought to have been a decent-sized hit. Sadly, in spite of Caroline O'Sullivan's glowing write-up, it just came up short of the Top 40. Had they been around four years earlier, it's easy to imagine it getting to a respectable chart position like number twelve ("This Is Your Life" would've been a sure fire Top 10 smash in this reality) with a Top of the Pops performance to go with it as well as appearing on a Now That's What I Call Music compilation. But timing is everything in music: the two-pronged onslaught of trashy Euro-house and earnest indie rock meant that new comers to the world of synth-pop didn't have the staying power of the core acts. By 1993, all that remained were the big names — and even they (Depeche Mode, New Order, Pet Shop Boys) would never be as popular from that point on.
We may bemoan the lack of prolonged success for Banderas but it's likely that they coped well it. The two were very down-to-earth with neither craving fame and fortune ("...I was walking around Sainsbury's yesterday and thought that if anyone recognised me then I would have to hit them," Herbert admitted to Smash Hits). Hopefully there remains a loyal following of Banderas backers to preserve the legacy of an unfortunately overlooked act, one that ought to have been held in similarly high esteem as all those angsty and moody synth-pop groups that came before them.
~~~~~
Not Reviewed This Fortnight
The Wedding Present: "Dalliance"
Reduced to the Also Released This Fortnight sidebar down at the bottom of the page, Caroline O'Sullivan for whatever reason didn't review this outstanding single from Dave Gedge and his Wedding Present chums. She really ought to have especially considering how subpar most of the new releases are in this issue. Nevertheless, "Dalliance" is a first rate banger, the sort of song that feels like it has existed forever even if it could only have come from the mind of Gedge. Starting off quietly, it gradually builds into a racket. They say rock music ought to be played at maximum volume but rare are those tracks that seem to get louder even as you turn it down. Gedge can't really sing as such but his voice is a thing to behold. There's desperation, desire, heartbreak and I can even detect some humour and irony present. I always forget how brilliant The Wedding Present were but being reminded of it is always a welcome (re)discovery. Not for everyone though I can't imagine why.
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