Gig Review: Hue and Cry @ Pizza Express Holborn, 31 March 2023

Hue and Cry: brothers Pat and Greg Kane. Photo by Phil Guest.

Some artists in the 1980s pop firmament (Paul Weller, Everything but the Girl, Simply Red) got away with marrying ‘aspirational’ music with supposed ‘socialist’ principles.

But Hue and Cry (brothers Pat and Tom Hanks-lookalike Greg Kane) had a tougher time. After their first two years of hits (‘Labour Of Love’, ‘Looking For Linda’, ‘Violently’), somehow their marriage of Sinatra-meets-Steely music and ‘political’ lyrics started to seriously wind people up in the age of grunge and Britpop.

Their 1988 album Remote (featuring an astonishing lineup of guest players including Michael Brecker, Tito Puente, Roy Ayers and Ron Carter) is certainly a desert-island disc but, by their third collection, 1991’s low-key Stars Crash Down, the momentum had been lost, typified by a famous hatchet job in Q magazine’s 100th edition begging them to split up (‘Britain’s Most Hated Band’!) – though it’s oft forgotten that the Melody Maker, NME, Sounds and Smash Hits quite liked them during their pop peak.

Since then, Radio 1’s loss has been Radio 2’s gain. The brothers Kane have ploughed on, recording the occasional album, generally eschewing the 1980s ‘nostalgia’ tours in favour of regular, relatively low-key live work. The duo format seems to be suit them very well – see 1989’s excellent Bitter Suite – and it’s been their preferred modus operandi over the last 20 years or so.

This Pizza Express gig was your correspondent’s first time seeing them live for 35 years, and anticipation was quite high, though I don’t exactly have happy memories of their 4 December 1989 gig at Hammersmith Odeon complete with ‘wacky’ horn section and less-than-stellar musicianship.

It’s not enough for 1980s acts to just play live now – the audience wants stories, and these boys have some good ones. But first Pat – in excellent voice throughout – laid down the gig’s house rules: 1. Things will only progress at a stately pace. 2. If you DON’T film our best songs and post them on twitter, you’re out.

Pat revealed that two of their early singles were written as a result of ‘being educated by a triumvirate of feminists at Glasgow University from 1981 to 1984’: indeed ‘I Refuse’ and ‘Violently’ were revelatory here. ‘Looking For Linda’, meanwhile, concerning a ‘Northern powerhouse’ who has never revealed herself to the Kane brothers since the song’s success, was a winner but missed a few neat chord changes/modulations from the original.

Their penchant for winding people up – gleefully acknowledged by Pat – emerged with new song ‘Everybody Deserves To Be Loved’ which sounded like The Blue Nile doing EDM, and there were less than essential covers of ‘Black And Gold’ and ‘Take Me To Church’.

But their best songs were harmonically-interesting, subtle explorations of adult relationships. Comparisons with Bacharach and David’s work wouldn’t be out of order. ‘Long Term Lovers Of Pain’, the ‘comeback’ single from Stars Crash Down, might just have been a Deacon Blue-style hit, but their luck had run out by then.

‘Just Say You Love Me’ and ‘Pocketful of Stones’ sounded every inch like modern standards, while excellent new song ‘Heading For A Fall’ borrowed verses from ‘The Message’ and ‘Inner City Blues’ – ‘three for one!’ trumpeted Pat.

The Kane brothers ended with a medley of ‘Shipbuilding’ and ‘The Man With The Child In His Eyes’, showcasing Pat’s rich, expressive voice to great effect. While Hue and Cry’s catalogue is unlikely to reach the critical heights of those songs’ classic status, this enjoyable gig shone a light on some underrated gems well worth discovering/rediscovering. There’s life in the duo yet.

Hue And Cry: Remote

hue and cryJust for a few years at the end of the ‘80s, Hue and Cry bothered the charts with a classy fusion of pop, jazz and Latin.

Singer/co-composer Pat Kane said at the time that they wanted to create a musical mix of Scritti and Sinatra; they almost pulled it off with the excellent Remote, released in December 1988.

They also pulled off the Steely Dan-ish trick of singing about subjects which might seem unsuitable in a pop context (domestic violence on ‘Looking For Linda’, corporate sexism on ‘Dollar William’, Latin-American poverty on ‘Three Foot Blasts Of Fire’, the dawning of the Web on ‘The Only Thing More Powerful Than The Boss’).

hue and cry

And yet something about Hue and Cry seriously wound people up. When they emerged on the scene in 1987, they rode a wave of goodwill thanks to their clean-cut looks, anti-Thatcher politics and dynamic ‘Labour of Love’ single.

But by the time of Remote, the tide was turning. Hue and Cry’s relatively soft, ‘aspirational’ sound was anathema in the bombastic late-’80s. It was too jazz for the yuppies and too pop for the jazz revivalists.

Maybe the fact that they’re brothers never helped too – The Proclaimers were the more acceptable face of Celtic brotherhood, more meat-and-potatoes, more reliably blue-collar.

In 1995, Q Magazine wrote a cruel but witty hatchet piece about them entitled Britain’s Most Hated Band, offering them ‘a crisp tenner’ to split up (it didn’t do the trick…).

Whatever. I love this album. Recording Remote in New York gave the Kanes access to some amazing guest musicians – Ron Carter and Michael Brecker play beautifully on the very pretty ‘Where We Wish To Remain’, and Pat’s excellent vocals demonstrate a big Mel Torme influence.

The prime NYC rhythm section of Wayne Braithwate and Dennis Chambers supplies a 24-carat groove on ‘Three Foot Blasts’. ‘Sweet Invisibility’ puts a fantastically exciting Latin horn arrangement right upfront in the mix, beating David Byrne at his own game.

‘Guy On The Wall’ is a witty portrait of a perpetual party wallflower set against a ‘Word Up’ groove and brilliant Salsa horn arrangement.

Bassist Will Lee delivers beautifully measured performances on ‘Ordinary Angel’, ‘Dollar William’ and ‘Looking For Linda’, offering a subtle commentary on the songs back in the days when a musical performance was supposed to have some narrative development and couldn’t just be ‘cut and pasted’ together.

It’s quite funny to hear legendary jazz trumpeter Jon Faddis play a stratospheric solo on the otherwise very soppy ‘Violently’.

Pat Kane sings well throughout the album, with great phrasing, inventive ad-libs and excellent melodies.

But YouTube live footage from the Remote era hasn’t aged well and demonstrates why they were such a Marmite band, all cheap suits and wacky horn sections. I saw them at the Hammersmith Odeon in 1989 and struggle to remember anything about the gig.

Even they seemed to sense which way the wind was blowing; they disappeared for far too long after Remote, issuing the stripped-down Bitter Suite live EP and disappointingly brittle Stars Crash Down in 1991. The momentum and recording budget had gone.

But Hue And Cry did well to ride the pop bandwagon for a few years and sneak some sparky jazz, Sinatra and Latin licks into the charts.

And because in the main they lent towards jazz and Latin rather than funk and soul, they avoided the all-too-audible mistakes of contemporaries like The Blow Monkeys, Style Council, Climie Fisher and Johnny Hates Jazz.