DO BANANARAMA HAVE APPEAL?
They have never heard of CREEM Magazine, and when I describe it, Sarah deadpans, “Oh—it’s like the N.M.E. now.”
PT. 1: EXTENUATING CIRCUMSTANCES (DISCLAIMER)
Three hungover, hungry, still-jetlagged lasses from London, a.k.a. Bananarama, meet an ebullient but spacey female rock journalist who looks like a Greenwich Village Beatchick circa 1960. They have never heard of CREEM Magazine, and when I describe it, Sarah deadpans, “Oh—it’s like the N.M.E. now.”
I, the interviewer, have been known to have more fun in a dentist’s chair, watching MTV (my last dentist used it along with laughing gas to dull the pain). Instead, it is now I being called upon to pull teeth. It is too early in the day to even yawn without making an effort. There are three of them, and one of me.
Imagine, finally, how it feels being shut for an hour in a badly decorated conference room at PolyGram Records in N.Y.C. (home sweet slum) with three members of the bestknown “Girl Group” early 1980s London hath wrought, Bananarama. You have one hour to interview them. You wish you’d been along the night before, when the B-girls were getting sloppy drunk and jolly rather then being morning-afterish. Dig?