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

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. 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…

Terminator X (Public Enemy DJ): Norman Rogers

Jet Black (Stranglers drummer): Brian Duffy

W. Axl Rose: William Bruce Rose Jr.

Divine: Glenn Milstead

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

De La Soul: 3 Feet High And Rising 30 Years Old Today

The citizens of Punxsutawney have the groundhog to tell them whether there’ll be an early spring (much to Phil Connors’ disgust).

But my yardstick is generally: is it time to listen to 3 Feet High And Rising yet? Perhaps prompted by the recent freakishly-warm weather in London, the answer is a resounding yes.

Because De La Soul’s debut album, released 30 years ago today, can refresh the most jaded of pop palettes and may be the ultimate summer record.

At my school, it was all the rage and a relief from the incessant INXS, Simple Minds and U2. Probably because De La Soul were from the suburbs of Long Island rather than the inner city, they brought a playful spirit and much-needed humour to hip-hop.

It also reminded older music fans (or – let’s be honest – music critics) of that other ‘summer of love’ anthem, Sgt Pepper, even if the band denied any knowledge of that album.

To my ears, it was the first time sampling was used to bring about a truly surreal vision of music. This was a carefree world where it was perfectly normal for a ‘how to speak French’ lesson to accompany The Turtles’ ‘You Showed Me’, or for Sly Stone’s ‘Poet’ to back up some nursery-rhyme rapping.

Liberace, The Headhunters, Fats Domino; they were all fair game (though controversial – see below). If it sounded good, it was good.

There’s a silly-but-funny fake quiz show schtick running through the album and it’s not often you hear a whispered rap. Almost every track is under three minutes.

There are rhymes about school, haircuts and soap, and if you don’t like one song, there’ll be another one along very shortly.

3 Feet High And Rising was the gateway to some brilliant retro music too, especially for my generation who were too young or not even born the first time around.

A theory: it single-handedly led to a resurgence of interest in Hall & Oates, Steely Dan, early Michael Jackson and Funkadelic.

At the time of writing, the album is unavailable on streaming platforms, pending a stand-off between the band and Tommy Boy Records. Is it karmic payback for the boys being so trigger-happy with the samples? Who knows.

But it doesn’t stop 3 Feet High And Rising being a classic of the ’80s or any other decade.

Seven More Great ’80s Album Openers

7. David Bowie: ‘It’s No Game (Part 1)’ from Scary Monsters (1980)
Weird doesn’t cover it. We hear tape spooling around the reels and the machine being turned on, followed by drummer Dennis Davis whirling around a football rattle and counting us in in his best Cyborg voice. After this, Robert Fripp’s deranged solo and Michi Hirota’s strident Japanese outbursts sound almost normal.

6. De La Soul: ‘Intro’ from 3 Feet High And Rising (1989)
A whole generation of pop kids hadn’t heard anything like this before, and yet somehow it bears repeated listening. It’s just as fresh and original as anything The Small Faces or The Beatles tried 20 years before and arguably started off the whole ‘intro’ concept on hip-hop albums.

5. Genesis: ‘Behind The Lines’ from Duke (1980)
In musical theatre, I believe it’s called an overture. This bombastic piece previews many of the themes that will reverberate through the album. Tony Banks’ keys and Phil’s drums have seldom sounded brighter or tighter.

4. Lil Louis: ‘I Called U’ from From The Mind Of Lil Louis (1989)
This classic piece of bunny-boiler house is funny and arresting.

3. It Bites: ‘Positively Animal’ from Eat Me In St Louis (1989)
Watch that volume dial. The underrated four-piece jolt you out of complacency with a flashy, these-go-to-11 opener. Audacious and very un-English.

2. The Police: ‘Don’t Stand So Close To Me’ from Zenyatta Mondatta (1980)
Another moody classic. A brooding Oberheim bass-throb, a fudged Andy Summers lick, a hint of click track and then that brilliant, patented half-time groove. The full-length version hints at the darker themes of the lyric.

1. Talking Heads: ‘And She Was’ from Little Creatures (1985)
Leaving behind the art-funk of Speaking In Tongues, this sprightly opener introduces a new stripped-down pop sound in no uncertain terms.