Tag Archives: brownmark

The Movers & Shakers Of 1980s Music: Their Real Names Revealed

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Captain Sensible, AKA…

During the punk era, musicians often chose stage names so that the dole office wouldn’t identify them from album covers or gigs.

One wonders how much of an issue that was for Gordon Sumner, Paul Hewson and David Evans, AKA Sting, Bono and The Edge, but you never know.

But as the 1980s wore on and the post-punk era became the hip-hop era, a whole new generation of rappers, DJs, producers and musicians felt the need to create pseudonyms.

But what did their mums call them? Here, for your dubious pleasure, are some of the most intriguing real names of 1980s pop, rock, hip-hop, indie and jazz (this page will be updated regularly).

It’s fair to assume that most probably don’t like being reminded of these, for various reasons. YOU go taunting Ice-T with his real name (Tracy Marrow). But, on the other hand, kudos to The Cure’s Robert Smith for not using a pseudonym…

Bobby Z (Prince’s drummer): Robert Rivkin

David Z (Prince engineer/producer): David Rivkin

Atlanta Bliss (Prince’s trumpet player): Matthew Blistan

Dr Fink (Prince’s keyboard player): Matthew Fink

Brownmark (Prince’s bass player): Mark Brown

St Paul (The Family frontman): Paul Peterson

Vanity (Vanity 6 singer/actress): Denise Matthews

Rick Springfield: Richard Springthorpe

Thomas Dolby: Thomas Morgan Robertson

Nik Kershaw: Nicholas Kershaw

John Peel: John Ravenscroft

Jonathan King (impresario and DJ): Kenneth King

Suggs (Madness frontman): Graham McPherson

Cher: Cheryl Sarkisian

Iggy Pop: James Osterburg

Buster Bloodvessel (Bad Manners frontman): Douglas Trendle

Jona Lewie (‘Stop The Cavalry’/’In The Kitchen At Parties’ singer): John Lewis

Chaka Khan: Yvette Stevens

David Essex: David Cook

Elton John: Reginald Dwight

Cliff Richard: Harry Webb

Roxanne Shante (rapper): Lolita Shante Gooden

The Real Roxanne (rapper): Adelaida Martinez

Scott Walker: Noel Scott Engel

Green Gartside (Scritti Politti frontman): Paul Julian Strohmeyer

Terminator X (Public Enemy DJ): Norman Rogers

Jet Black (Stranglers drummer): Brian Duffy

W. Axl Rose: William Bruce Rose Jr.

Divine: Glenn Milstead

Henry Rollins: Henry Garfield

MC Lyte: Lana Moorer

Kate Bush: Catherine Bush

Sun Ra: Herman Blount

Sade: Helen Folasade Adu

Adam Ant: Stuart Goddard

Ozzy Osbourne: John Michael Osbourne

Genesis P-Orridge (Throbbing Gristle/Psychic TV frontperson): Neil Megson

Cosey Fanni Tutti (Throbbing Gristle co-founder): Christine Newby

Jamaaladeen Tacuma (Ornette Coleman bassist): Rudy McDaniel

Howard Devoto (Magazine singer/solo artist): Howard Trafford

Wilko Johnson: John Wilkinson

Jah Wobble: John Wardle (named by a drunken Sid Vicious, whose real name is John Ritchie…)

Prairie Prince (Tubes/XTC drummer): Charles Lempriere Prince

Sydney Youngblood (‘If Only I Could’ singer): Sydney Ford

Yazz (‘The Only Way Is Up’): Yasmin Evans

Belouis Some (‘Imagination’ singer): Neville Keighley

Hollywood Beyond (‘What’s The Colour Of Money’ singer): Mark Rogers

Tommy Vance (legendary DJ): Richard Anthony Crispian Francis Prew Hope-Weston

Melle Mel: Melvin Glover

John Martyn: Iain McGeachy

Tom Verlaine (Television frontman): Thomas Miller

Johnnie Walker (DJ): Peter Dingley

Kim Wilde: Kim Smith

Midge Ure: James Ure

Elvis Costello: Declan MacManus

Adrian Belew: Robert Steven Belew

Princess (London soul singer of ‘Say I’m Your Number One’ fame): Desiree Heslop

Dweezil Zappa: Ian Donald Calvin Euclid Zappa (The LA hospital nurse wouldn’t let Gail and Frank name him ‘Dweezil’ so FZ named him after his early collaborators Ian Underwood, Captain Beefheart, Carl Schenkel and ‘Motorhead’ Sherwood. Dweezil’s name was legally changed when he was five years old.)

Mick Mars (Motley Crue guitarist): Robert Alan Deal

John Foxx: Dennis Leigh

Trugoy (De La Soul rapper): David Jolicoeur

Cheryl Baker (Bucks Fizz vocalist): Rita Crudgington

Grandmaster Flash: Joseph Saddler

Kidd Creole (Furious Five rapper): Nathaniel Glover

KRS-One: Lawrence Parker

Pauline Black (Selecter singer): Belinda Magnus

Siouxsie Sioux: Susan Ballion

Geddy Lee: Gershon Eliezer Weinrib

Sebastian Bach (Skid Row singer): Sebastian Bierk

Marilyn (‘Calling Your Name’ singer): Peter Robinson

Don Was (Was Not Was co-founder/superstar producer): Don Fagenson

Falco (‘Rock Me Amadeus’ one-hit wonder): Johann Holzel

Steve Severin (Siouxsie and the Banshees bassist): John Bailey

Budgie (Siouxsie drummer): Peter Clarke

Dave Vanian (Damned singer): David Lett

Lydia Lunch: Lydia Koch

Flavor Flav: William Drayton

LL Cool J: James Smith

Tone Loc: Anthony Smith

Bonnie Tyler: Gaynor Hopkins

Yngwie Malmsteen: Lars Lannerback

Young MC: Marvin Young

Ice Cube: O’Shea Jackson Sr.

Shakin’ Stevens: Michael Barratt

Donna Summer: LaDonna Gaines

Captain Sensible: Raymond Burns

Rat Scabies (Damned drummer): Christopher Millar

Vanilla Ice: Matthew Van Winkle

MC Hammer: Stanley Burrell

DJ Kool Herc (hip-hop pioneer): Clive Campbell

Duke Bootee (hip-hop pioneer): Edward Fletcher

Afrika Bambaataa: Lance Taylor

Nikki Sixx (Motley Crue bassist): Franklin Ferrana

Skip McDonald (On-U Records/Sugar Hill guitarist): Bernard Alexander

Billy Idol: William Broad

Bill Wyman: William Perks

Fish: Derek Dick

Fee Waybill (Tubes vocalist): John Waldo

Billy Ocean: Leslie Charles

Posdnuous (De La Soul rapper): Kelvin Mercer

Maseo (De La Soul rapper): Vincent Mason Jr.

Chris De Burgh: Christopher Davidson

Kool Moe Dee: Mohandas Dewese

Dee C Lee (Style Council vocalist/’See The Day’ solo artist): Diane Sealey

Steve Strange (Visage frontman/Blitz pioneer): Stephen John Harrington

Youth (Killing Joke bassist/superstar producer): Martin Glover

Geordie (Killing Joke guitarist): Kevin Walker

Doug E Fresh: Douglas Davis

Book Review: My Life In The Purple Kingdom by BrownMark

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It’s a time-honoured music-biz story: The Hometown Kid Makes It Big.

Or, to paraphrase Bill Bruford, first you get used to failure, then you get used to success. But BrownMark’s new memoir ‘My Life In The Purple Kingdom’, outlining his five-year stint as bassist with Prince And The Revolution, has a few intriguing twists to the old story.

Firstly, it’s a very timely work, since there’s very little documentation about the Inner Workings of the Purple Rain circus. Then there’s the added intrigue of the book mainly taking place in the huge, often-underestimated Midwestern city of Minneapolis.

The early sections are gripping, a vision of a young man flourishing as a musician, getting by in (racially and economically) difficult conditions, supported by a loving mother and extended family.

Mark documents the Minneapolis music scene of the 1970s very well, tracing his development from young Staple Singers/Ohio Players/Earth, Wind & Fire fan into local music ‘star’, with lots of talk about image creation in the era of Rick James and Controversy-era Prince (‘Only women had clothes that fit the vibe I was looking for, but I didn’t want to dress in drag’…).

Soon Prince has his number, and there’s a long, strange section on his recruitment for The Revolution (spoiler alert: hardcore Prince fans should approach the book with caution…), and a memorable account of the infamous October 1981 gig supporting The Rolling Stones in Los Angeles. There are some excellent photographs, many of which this writer had never seen, and a fine introduction by Questlove, Prince fanatic and esteemed Black Music documentarian.

But ‘My Life In The Purple Kingdom’ is also a cursory tale, a veritable How Not To Succeed In The Music Biz, and it has to be said that Mark sometimes comes across as incredibly naïve, even for a nineteen-year-old.

This speaks to something very strange at the heart of the book. There are missing details that put everything else into doubt – nothing about the status of the offer Mark received from Prince’s management upon joining The Revolution (whisked out of nowhere to join one of the most successful bands of all time, he never discusses terms and then is shocked when ‘cheated’ out of a bonus); nothing about his knowledge of Prince’s music before he joined The Revolution; barely a mention of any Prince songs or interesting musical moments during his time in the band (only Lisa Coleman and Matt Fink get cursory mentions).

The book has a ‘happy’ ending of sorts, ending with Mark’s late-‘80s solo deal with Motown Records, but bizarrely the recent (very successful) Revolution reunion isn’t mentioned. It’s almost as if he wrote it back in 1990, at the height of his bitterness and brain fog. The closing, cursory thanks to Prince almost raises the first proper laugh of the book.

But ‘My Life In The Purple Kingdom’ is an absolute must for 1999 and Purple Rain completists and those wanting to know more about the Minneapolis music scene. It’s an arresting piece of social history, often gripping and definitely original, especially in its early sections.

‘My Life In The Purple Kingdom’ by BrownMark (with Cynthia Uhrich) is published by the University Of Minnesota Press.

Gig Review: The Revolution @ The Showbox, 15 July 2017

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Our guest writer in Seattle: Sebastian Wright.

A warm Seattle evening, just steps away from the iconic Pike Place Market. One of the definitive bands of the ’80s are getting ready to take the stage.

But one member, the lead vocalist, is famously and notably absent. How can they pay tribute without becoming a tribute act?

The Revolution are close to the end of their 29-date North American tour. Reformed with the original line-up, they provided backup for Prince throughout his creative zenith (1980-86).

It’s hard to think of a band who funked as hard in that era. And tonight, that’s what shines through.

The Revolution, 2017: From left, Brown Mark, Dr Fink, Bobby Z, Lisa Coleman, Wendy Melvoin and guest Dez Dickerson

Gone are the ’80s fashions, the side partings, ruffs and glitter (though keyboard player Dr Fink maintains his scrubs and stethoscope). This is not a celebration of the past but rather a testament to how relevant Prince’s music remains today.

In the diverse, 1,100 capacity Showbox crowd, there is no hint of irony or throwback-chic. These people, many of them tattooed with Prince’s ‘symbol’ motif, came to party. And from the opening bars of ‘Computer Blue’, party is what they do.

What follows is a two-hour set of peerless pop classics. There are no overwrought solos, no extended jams. Nothing outstays its welcome or is embellished. Wendy takes lead guitar but keeps true to her original riffs instead of trying to mimic Prince’s soloing.

It’s a joy to hear a band this tight and disciplined. Their use of vintage keyboards and drum machines, at chest- splitting volume, has a transportive effect.

Joined by guest vocalist Stokley Williams, The Revolution power through ‘Uptown’ and ‘DMSR’ until noticeably dropping the energy level (and losing the crowd) with two tracks from Prince’s vault of unreleased songs.

Then it’s back to the dancefloor, tearing through ‘Erotic City’, ‘Let’s Work’ and ‘1999’, until their next break in pace: Wendy and Lisa’s quiet, melancholic and clearly deeply personal tribute to their missing bandleader, ‘Sometimes It Snows In April’.

It’s at this point that you hear the tears from fans who continue to be touched by the passing of their innovative, imaginative hero. For many, this is a moment of quiet reflection, surrounded by like-minded people – a cathartic release for all, including a visibly upset Wendy.

As the show goes on, climaxing with ‘Purple Rain’, the band are overwhelmed by the ecstatic energy of the crowd. It’s not hard to understand how The Revolution, all now in their mid-50s, can keep up with touring such a high-energy show.

The passion of the music, camaraderie of the players and discipline of their act transform the audience into just what they lack: their missing frontman.