Blancmange, Koko

Eighties synth duo with big tunes return

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Blancmange: Not boring
Blancmange: Not boring

Blancmange is a sweet pudding commonly made with milk or cream and sugar thickened with gelatin, cornstarch or Irish moss, and often flavored with almonds, says Wikipedia. Not sure about the Irish moss bit. Blancmange is also, as any fule no, a fabulous Eighties synth duo, playing on a tour for the first time in 25 years. I know there are a few of you out there who prefer your Pet Shop Boys. Personally, I find the PSBs too much. Every track rammed full of too much stuff, eventually they make you as sick as if you had stuffed your face with dessert all night.

Despite their name (originally they were apparently going to call themselves A Pint of Curry), Blancmange worked out the principle of "less is more" – it’s called dynamics. There are delicious spaces in the music. So that when they go OTT on tracks like the epic "Waves", it is sincerely affecting.

The duo were not merely engaging in nostalgia either, they have a cracking new album, as good as anything they have ever done, called Blanc Burn, out last week, which provided three of the strongest tracks on offer last night, notably "The Western", which in any sane pop world would be sailing up the charts as we speak. A packed Koko saw a crowd who seemed to know every word of tracks old and new – slightly better than singer Neil Arthur. But Arthur, 25 years or so on, looks very fit and is in strong voice. It turns out he is a charismatic front man, with a deft line in self-mockery.

The secret of Blancmange was the mix of approachable, blokeish Arthur and Stephen Luscombe, who provided the style and elements of camp and the lush (but sometimes spare) electronics. Luscombe used to hang out with the likes of Leigh Bowery at the Taboo club and was plugged into that super-hip world. Arthur sings quizzical, poetic, sometimes surreal songs about mundane reality – having breakfast and going shopping at Woolies, but also disasters in love and other existential crises. Together, unlike the PBS, there was always a sense of humour lurking near the surface.


The third wheel of the Blancmange tricycle is Pandit Dinesh, the tabla player and percussionist, and it was their East-West flavours in their hits like "Living on the Ceiling" with Dinesh's melodic tabla hook that was often, as tonight, a vital element of their distinctive sound. Synth player Graham Henderson noodled fairly anonymously, as keyboardists tend to, at the back. (Luscombe was not on stage as he has been ill recently, and we wish him the best.) One of the most enjoyable elements of Blancmange’s sound is Luscombe's brilliant use of organic analogue synths, juicy, bouncy or crunchy sounds full of wonderful sonic colour. Henderson deputised with aplomb, over Luscombe's pre-programmed sounds.

(Full Disclosure: I was so impressed with Luscombe and Dinesh back in the Eighties I ended up working with them for a while in the West India Company – but, that is a whole other story, including a fairly insane few months living in Mumbai.)

A rush of hits with memorable tunes followed in succession – "Blind Vision", "Don’t Tell Me", "God’s Kitchen" and "Waves", all with intriguing arrangements. There really wasn't a dull moment, which makes a change. The band were never huge - and they had the good taste to get out before they became boring. They are like miniaturist painters - summoning up an atmosphere on each track. Although determinedly pop, there are echoes of their experimental beginnings in some welcome unpredictability. Complaints: they didn’t do "The Day Before You Came", which must be the best ABBA cover ever (see video below). We didn’t get to hear the vocalised syllables properly (Arthur mumbled them apologetically) – like Indian bols - in the chorus of new tune "The Western",  which is actually the hook of the song.

Now they’ve realised they still have an audience, it would be great to see them with some backing vocals or a string section, funds permitting. I certainly can see them being booked on the festival circuit. In actuality, it was faintly astonishing that Arthur, with help from sidekick Dinesh, the keyboard guy and some fuzzy projections, managed to hold the attention of a rapt audience for the entire set.

Watch video of "The Day Before You Came"

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The band were never huge - and they had the good taste to get out before they became boring

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