It's become common recently for British bands that split up years ago to re-form. The Police have recently re-formed, as have the Spice Girls and Take That. Now Bananarama - Sara Dallin and Keren Woodward (Siobhan Fahey has left) - are coming back....
Return of the top Bananas
28th July 2007
Daily Mail
Girl Power: Keren, Sara and Siobahn in 1985
They're one of the greatest girl bands in British pop history ... and next week you'll get their latest album - featuring 15 of their original studio recordings of their greatest hits - FREE inside The Mail on Sunday.
It all began in a single room above a bustling London street. There was no bathroom and no hot water.
Instead the three young girls who shared the dingy room took a brisk walk to the facilities at Tottenham Court Road Tube station.
Few would have noticed them. Yet they went on to become a pop phenomenon, making a succession of infectious, feelgood hits which became the soundtrack for a generation of feisty, independent women.
Bananarama became the longest-lasting girl band in British pop history with singles such as Venus, Robert de Niro's Waiting and Love In The First Degree bringing success on both sides of the Atlantic.
The group who never thought they'd make a second single have sold more than 40 million albums worldwide.
They have survived traumas, splits and motherhood and seen the other major all-girl groups –The Spice Girls, All Saints, Eternal – come and go.
Now they are back in the recording studio once again. A new single and an album are in the pipeline and, in a few weeks' time, they are due to headline before a 200,000-strong audience at the Retrofest festival in Ayrshire.
Sara and Keren now: Looking as good as ever
But the Bananarama revival begins in earnest next weekend, when The Mail on Sunday will give away their latest CD – the original studio recordings of their greatest hits – free with every copy of the newspaper.
The original triumvirate of Sara Dallin, Keren Woodward and Siobhan Fahey have proved the antithesis of today's manufactured, instantly disposable pop.
And their story, which spans more than 25 years of success, is the stuff of fairy tales.
Childhood friends from Bristol, Sarah and Keren, in particular, have one of the most enduring relationships in the business.
They have grown up together since the age of four, gravitating to London at the age of 18, where they fell under the influence of the do-it-yourself ethos of punk.
"We left home together, went out together and got fat together – all the usual things girls do," says Sara.
It was 1980. Keren, a classically trained pianist, went to work in the BBC's accounts department, while Sara enrolled at the London School of Fashion to study fashion journalism, where she met Dublin-born Siobhan Fahey.
Soon the three were sharing the tiny flat in Denmark Street, London's Tin Pan Alley, above a shabby rehearsal studio used by the Sex Pistols, "messing about" singing and dancing together – and Bananarama evolved as an offshoot of their hectic social life.
They were encouraged to record their first single by former Sex Pistols drummer Paul Cook.
But success came only after they were approached by Specials and Fun Boy Three singer Terry Hall to collaborate on two enormous hits, It Ain't What You Do and Really Saying Something.
From then on, they released a conveyor belt of hits that lasted for a dozen years until the early Nineties, including Shy Boy, Cruel Summer and Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye).
Bananarama are a throwback to a time of pop innocence. Their abiding characteristic was
enthusiasm, not ambition, and surprising reserves of confidence.
"We didn't know it was going to be a career – it was just a lot of fun," Keren says. "We were known as the bimbo band and never expected to last.
"They thought we would be a one-hit wonder and, frankly, so did we. It was as much of a surprise to us that we became so successful and are still going strong.
"We were always around music and we were lucky to be in the right place at the right time, knowing the right friends."
They were never groomed, styled or media trained. And it showed. Keren says: "We were expected to smile and be flirty to everyone.
"But we acted more like a male rock band. We never mastered the niceties. We were more interested in having a good time."
Their lack of willingness to co-operate led to a reputation for being "difficult".
Legendary record producers Stock Aitken Waterman called them the most "awkward act" they had ever worked with.
But Keren said that was because they wanted to be involved in every aspect of their career.
The girls were famous for walking out of magazine photoshoots or not turning up at all.
But, as Sara has pointed out, it was not because they were divas, but because they couldn't be bothered.
"We were stroppy because people expected us to be brainless dolly birds, with no opinions of our own," she said.
"When we were asked to sit down to dinner next to some crusty old executive from a record label, we refused."
It was a relaxed attitude they could easily afford. By the mid-Eighties they were members of Britain's pop aristocracy, and in 1987 Siobhan married another big star, Dave Stewart from the Eurythmics.
Just one year later, however, the girls had their first major setback in a musical career that, until then, had seemed almost effortless.
Siobhan left to form her own band, Shakespears Sister, and pursue a different, more arty, style of music.
Jacquie O'Sullivan was drafted in as a replacement for a few years, but since 1992 Sara and Keren have carried on alone.
Today, at 45, the pair look lean, toned and stunningly glamorous.
Despite their cloak of maturity, they still love to laugh and drink together, particularly if the tipple on offer is vodka.
They were on fine form at George Michael's 44th birthday party last month and, according to one observer, they were "larking around like teenagers".
Sara still lives in North London, although she has now split with the father of her 15-year-old daughter, Alice.
Home for Keren is a comfortable, sprawling, dusky-pink farmhouse tucked away down winding country lanes of a Cornish town, where she lives with her partner of 17 years, former Wham star Andrew Ridgeley.
She has a grown-up son, Thomas, aged 20, but she confesses it doesn't take much for the Bananarama spirit to come through, when she and Sara get together for a gig.
"Sometimes we go out, get drunk, come home at 4am, crash into bed and phone stupid people. We've never grown out of it," she says.
The rift caused by Siobhan's sudden departure has long been bridged.
The original trio are firm friends once again and don't rule out working together in the future.
Indeed, they celebrated their 20th anniversary five years ago with a special one-off reunion in front of 3,000 adoring fans at the London Astoria.
"When you've known someone for so long you never lose that friendship," says Keren, adding that her relationship with Sara is "like a marriage".
"We are very close – we'll never fall out," replies Sara. "We sometimes sulk, but it doesn't last long.
We're not the type to bear grudges.
"Keren has been a part of my life ever since I can remember. We rely on each other."
Some say the Eighties are the decade that taste forgot, but the ladies of Bananarama are still a force to be reckoned with.
"We are happy making pop music that make people feel good," says Sara.
"You should never be ashamed of what you are and that's what we are."
And long may they reign.
dailymail.co.uk
Return of the top Bananas
28th July 2007
Daily Mail
Girl Power: Keren, Sara and Siobahn in 1985
They're one of the greatest girl bands in British pop history ... and next week you'll get their latest album - featuring 15 of their original studio recordings of their greatest hits - FREE inside The Mail on Sunday.
It all began in a single room above a bustling London street. There was no bathroom and no hot water.
Instead the three young girls who shared the dingy room took a brisk walk to the facilities at Tottenham Court Road Tube station.
Few would have noticed them. Yet they went on to become a pop phenomenon, making a succession of infectious, feelgood hits which became the soundtrack for a generation of feisty, independent women.
Bananarama became the longest-lasting girl band in British pop history with singles such as Venus, Robert de Niro's Waiting and Love In The First Degree bringing success on both sides of the Atlantic.
The group who never thought they'd make a second single have sold more than 40 million albums worldwide.
They have survived traumas, splits and motherhood and seen the other major all-girl groups –The Spice Girls, All Saints, Eternal – come and go.
Now they are back in the recording studio once again. A new single and an album are in the pipeline and, in a few weeks' time, they are due to headline before a 200,000-strong audience at the Retrofest festival in Ayrshire.
Sara and Keren now: Looking as good as ever
But the Bananarama revival begins in earnest next weekend, when The Mail on Sunday will give away their latest CD – the original studio recordings of their greatest hits – free with every copy of the newspaper.
The original triumvirate of Sara Dallin, Keren Woodward and Siobhan Fahey have proved the antithesis of today's manufactured, instantly disposable pop.
And their story, which spans more than 25 years of success, is the stuff of fairy tales.
Childhood friends from Bristol, Sarah and Keren, in particular, have one of the most enduring relationships in the business.
They have grown up together since the age of four, gravitating to London at the age of 18, where they fell under the influence of the do-it-yourself ethos of punk.
"We left home together, went out together and got fat together – all the usual things girls do," says Sara.
It was 1980. Keren, a classically trained pianist, went to work in the BBC's accounts department, while Sara enrolled at the London School of Fashion to study fashion journalism, where she met Dublin-born Siobhan Fahey.
Soon the three were sharing the tiny flat in Denmark Street, London's Tin Pan Alley, above a shabby rehearsal studio used by the Sex Pistols, "messing about" singing and dancing together – and Bananarama evolved as an offshoot of their hectic social life.
They were encouraged to record their first single by former Sex Pistols drummer Paul Cook.
But success came only after they were approached by Specials and Fun Boy Three singer Terry Hall to collaborate on two enormous hits, It Ain't What You Do and Really Saying Something.
From then on, they released a conveyor belt of hits that lasted for a dozen years until the early Nineties, including Shy Boy, Cruel Summer and Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye).
Bananarama are a throwback to a time of pop innocence. Their abiding characteristic was
enthusiasm, not ambition, and surprising reserves of confidence.
"We didn't know it was going to be a career – it was just a lot of fun," Keren says. "We were known as the bimbo band and never expected to last.
"They thought we would be a one-hit wonder and, frankly, so did we. It was as much of a surprise to us that we became so successful and are still going strong.
"We were always around music and we were lucky to be in the right place at the right time, knowing the right friends."
They were never groomed, styled or media trained. And it showed. Keren says: "We were expected to smile and be flirty to everyone.
"But we acted more like a male rock band. We never mastered the niceties. We were more interested in having a good time."
Their lack of willingness to co-operate led to a reputation for being "difficult".
Legendary record producers Stock Aitken Waterman called them the most "awkward act" they had ever worked with.
But Keren said that was because they wanted to be involved in every aspect of their career.
The girls were famous for walking out of magazine photoshoots or not turning up at all.
But, as Sara has pointed out, it was not because they were divas, but because they couldn't be bothered.
"We were stroppy because people expected us to be brainless dolly birds, with no opinions of our own," she said.
"When we were asked to sit down to dinner next to some crusty old executive from a record label, we refused."
It was a relaxed attitude they could easily afford. By the mid-Eighties they were members of Britain's pop aristocracy, and in 1987 Siobhan married another big star, Dave Stewart from the Eurythmics.
Just one year later, however, the girls had their first major setback in a musical career that, until then, had seemed almost effortless.
Siobhan left to form her own band, Shakespears Sister, and pursue a different, more arty, style of music.
Jacquie O'Sullivan was drafted in as a replacement for a few years, but since 1992 Sara and Keren have carried on alone.
Today, at 45, the pair look lean, toned and stunningly glamorous.
Despite their cloak of maturity, they still love to laugh and drink together, particularly if the tipple on offer is vodka.
They were on fine form at George Michael's 44th birthday party last month and, according to one observer, they were "larking around like teenagers".
Sara still lives in North London, although she has now split with the father of her 15-year-old daughter, Alice.
Home for Keren is a comfortable, sprawling, dusky-pink farmhouse tucked away down winding country lanes of a Cornish town, where she lives with her partner of 17 years, former Wham star Andrew Ridgeley.
She has a grown-up son, Thomas, aged 20, but she confesses it doesn't take much for the Bananarama spirit to come through, when she and Sara get together for a gig.
"Sometimes we go out, get drunk, come home at 4am, crash into bed and phone stupid people. We've never grown out of it," she says.
The rift caused by Siobhan's sudden departure has long been bridged.
The original trio are firm friends once again and don't rule out working together in the future.
Indeed, they celebrated their 20th anniversary five years ago with a special one-off reunion in front of 3,000 adoring fans at the London Astoria.
"When you've known someone for so long you never lose that friendship," says Keren, adding that her relationship with Sara is "like a marriage".
"We are very close – we'll never fall out," replies Sara. "We sometimes sulk, but it doesn't last long.
We're not the type to bear grudges.
"Keren has been a part of my life ever since I can remember. We rely on each other."
Some say the Eighties are the decade that taste forgot, but the ladies of Bananarama are still a force to be reckoned with.
"We are happy making pop music that make people feel good," says Sara.
"You should never be ashamed of what you are and that's what we are."
And long may they reign.
dailymail.co.uk
