Martin Fry and Thereza Bazar may only have met twice in their lives but for a long time their careers ran parallel under the blooming brilliance of one Trevor Horn.
’Poison Arrow’ and ‘Videotheque’, ‘All Of My Heart’ and ‘Give Me Back My Heart’; in 1982 ABC and Dollar had the look (and sound) of love.
Now ABC have stepped out on their own while Thereza’s parted company with both Trevor and the other half of her Dollar bill, David Van Day.
So how are these two independent souls enjoying life away from the nest, we wondered, a blind date stirring in our minds.
Well, you’ll find out just as soon as Mr Fry turns up for luncheon…
SO what do you do when your blind date’s an hour and a half late?
Tear your hair out? Tear his hair out?
No. “Order as much of everything as you can then when he arrives tell him you’ve said he’ll settle the bill and walk out. With a bit of luck he’ll have forgotten his credit cards…”
Nice thinking, Thereza.
“Oh and get some champagne…”
Ah-ha! Now we’ve hit on it. The Bazar soft spot. Her demon drink…
When we arrive at London’s groovy Video Cafe —
It takes half an hour and some coaxing for the truth to out. Thereza’s on a champagne diet.
“It’s my favourite drink,” she confesses, “but I’ve been trying to cut back. Everywhere I go everyone seems to know that I like it so it’s always there —
Well, you can’t get much more special than being stood up by Martin Fry. Waiter, pop that cork!
Suitably refreshed, Thereza recalls the first time she met the ABC man.
“It was when Dollar played Baileys, Watford. One of our early try-outs for our live show. Trevor Horn brought him along.
“After the show Martin came backstage and he was really quiet and nervous. I told him I’d heard some of the ABC songs while I was in the studio and I liked them. He didn’t know what to say…”
There’s no such problem on this their happy reunion. On the stroke of 2.30, in breezes Martin, a voluminous brown coat sweeping about his gangly frame.
“Sorry I’m late,” he grins apologetically, beneath his flop of hair, “but I couldn’t find a flower shop.”
Ignoring this creepy gesture Thereza decides against crippling Mart with her steak knife and instead hands him a menu.
“The fried mushrooms look good,” she suggests. Martin agrees but decides to wait on his main course.
“It’s nice to do something as civilised as this,” says Martin as we tuck in our bibs. “Usually Phonogram (his record company) stick me in a room full of Dire Straits silver discs and say ‘talk to them 79 journalists!’”
With steaks, salads, mushrooms and wine the order of the day, it’s certainly a civilised affair, even if you do get Pete Burns looming over your beansprouts on the screen in front of you.
Two topics recur as regularly as the wine waitress —
The fascination with America is a many splendoured thing. A mixture of dashed dreams —
“There is a lure for me,” says Thereza. “For me the ultimate achievement is to make something that’s accessible to every market in the world.
“I’m not into it for the Dynasty lifestyle. I’ve lived that for ten years.”
The Horn attraction is obvious but far broader than you might imagine.
When Martin tells Thereza that Trev’s just gone out to Washington to produce Grace Jones’ ‘Slave To The Rhythm’ single she almost tosses her salad.
“‘Slave To The Rhythm’ —
“‘Slave’ was originally written for Frankie but they wanted to rewrite the lyrics.”
And there are more astounding revelations from the Horn kingdom, via Martin.
“A long time ago Trevor was telling me this idea he had about ‘white noise’,” he remembers, “which he had in mind for you to sing. I guess that’s now mutated into The Art Of Noise and stuff like ‘Moments In Love’…
“You would have been this girl singing songs with this fierce avant-garde electronic backing.”
“It was a great idea,” agrees Thereza. “It just didn’t happen.”
Earlier, before Martin’s arrival, Thereza confided another project that had to be slightly curtailed.
“I used to be a bit mad at ABC,” she confesses, “because Trevor went to work on them instead of doing all the Dollar album.” In fact Thereza finished producing the LP herself.
It doesn’t seem to matter now though. These two have soon got the measure of each other and they banter happily from starter to finish…
“How’s the new album?” inquires Thereza.
“It’s finished now,” says Martin.
“Oh yes. How long did it take?”
“Twenty seven years.”
“Mmm, that’s pretty quick actually…”