Even knowing what I know now, and however difficult the later days of Bros proved to be, I still maintain that going to meet Tom, talking about the band and possible record deals and all that flurry of activity that kicked off shortly after Nicky spotted us was a fantastic, exciting, unbelievable time. We were so young and here was one of the industry’s biggest managers talking to us across a desk in a swanky West End lawyer’s office. It was hard not to be dazzled.
I genuinely have amazing memories of those times, even though they happen to be the days that would mould certain future events. However, I can’t sit here and write my autobiography and feel negative and weird about experiences that, at the time, were nothing but exhilarating. Maybe I’m too philosophical. I don’t know, maybe I’m naive. Whatever the cause, that’s how I see those events, it was the stuff of dreams.
If I Was A Wishful Thinker . . .
Once Tom was involved, through his Massive Management company along with his partner Mick Newton, events moved very quickly indeed. It was December 1986 and within a very short space of time, our band would be all over the papers. For now, however, we didn’t even have a record deal, yet that seemed an insignificant obstacle. Suddenly, demo tapes were recorded – there had already been a false start when Arista pulled out of a deal at the last second. It was disappointing at the time, but with Tom on board anything seemed possible. We were having meetings to discuss which record company would be best, CBS/Sony or EMI, the people behind Michael Jackson or the ones who looked after The Beatles. A few weeks earlier we’d been wiping bacon spread off our guitars in the summerhouse.
Tom was a very big character, physically and in terms of his presence. He would bundle into meetings full of ideas and it sounded like the world was ours for the taking. And you know what? Tom was right.
The name Bros came about from one of these highly-charged meetings and it seemed to fit perfectly. Tom even had his designer Mark Farrow create that famous logo which all seemed very ambitious yet totally natural at the same time. The strategy worked and the music business was soon talking about Tom’s latest act.
Eventually, we signed to CBS/Sony for an advance of £260,000 for the debut album. What that actually equated to for us in hard cash terms was a wage of fifty pounds a week. In a way, I have to be honest, I was more excited by the fact that someone was going to pay for us to go into a studio to make a record and then, amazingly, it would get released. It was a period when even the air I breathed seemed to be rich with dreams. When I arrived home one day after yet another exciting meet, this fantasy life turned to a horrific nightmare when Mum broke the news that she had been diagnosed with cancer.
Every day for weeks, my Aunt Sally had pestered my mum to have a check-up, for no other reason than she had a feeling she should get looked at. Thank God Sally did because eventually Mum did go in and they found something. The surgeons removed what they thought was everything but placed Mum on a strict routine of further check-ups to monitor the situation. Fortunately, three years later she was given the all clear.
The pace of the band was relentless. A girl called Tula, who was working with Tom, took us to the Cuts salon in Soho where we had all our hair chopped off really nicely. Prior to that our hair had been long, very Eighties, very Duran-esque (we also played around with a lot of different styles, even the Buffalo Boy look). I knew in my heart of hearts that the hair had to come off, I’d been thinking about it for some time anyway. When I was about fourteen, I went on holiday with my grandad and Aunt Sally, because I was Nobby No Mates and my brother had gone off sunning himself with some tasty bird, like you should be doing at that age! So what’s the next best thing for a pubescent, hormonally-challenged teenage boy? Go to Greece with your grandad and aunty.
Neither of them were great sun-worshippers, so I found myself on the beach alone most days. On one particular afternoon, I was lying down on the golden sand, with my beautiful long blond hair, slim body, very few hairs on my legs. The next thing I know, five guys start putting their towels down around me. I thought, Oh my God, they think I’m a fucking bird! So in the deepest voice I could muster, I said to the guy next to me, ‘Can you pass me the oil please?’ I’ve never seen five lads scarper so bloody fast!
When the day came to get the hair cut, it was a relief. What was strange was that prior to having the short cut, both Lukie and I did very well with girlfriends, we never had a problem. However, when we had that James Dean cut, it was like flicking a switch, it all started kicking off. Not long after, I was standing in a phone box when a girl who didn’t normally give me the time of day drove by in her car – and did a blatant double-take. She stopped the car and clearly didn’t know who it was, then as she got closer she said, ‘Matt?’ That felt good! My mum still has the ponytails, the string of hair that we had chopped off.
Our look – chunky Doc Martens, ripped Levi 501s, white T-shirts, Harrington jackets and James Dean-esque haircuts might seem quite tame, but at the time it was very striking. A lot of our gear was bought from American Classics and Red Or Dead and both shops did a roaring trade with Brosettes. Duran Duran and Wham! had both enjoyed massive success in the Eighties but their younger fans were starting to look elsewhere. New Romanticism was still very popular with all its flamboyance and melodrama, Goths were always skulking around (a look I have always liked when it is done well), soul boys were besuited and very smooth, casuals were in the mix too, but our look was very different. It just seemed to hit a chord with people. I think it was a time when a new generation was up and coming and wanted their own uniform.
I have often heard people suggest that we were ‘dressed’ by our management and PR team. Let me say now for the record, that is absolute nonsense. I have never, ever been dressed. I am the one who loved James Dean, I was a massive fan, hence the red Harrington. I loved James Dean’s hair. That’s where it came from and I don’t care what anyone says. The ripped jeans were just a case of the trousers we had on having worn out. Simple as that. Next thing you know, everyone is ripping brand-new jeans to simulate the ‘look’. I have never been the sort of person who will sit down with a stylist and say, ‘Do what you want with me.’ I firmly believe that you can’t be in bands and not have opinions. Our look might not have been considered state-of-the-art West End fashion, but people loved it.
When our management team said, ‘Okay, we’re ready, let’s go in and make the album,’ it was so exciting. We were recording at Hot Night Studio in Farm Lane, Fulham, on the top floor of a building in a trading estate. I went in on the first day with a lucky T-shirt that I was determined to wear to record all my lead vocals. Even though it was our debut album, to this day it was one of the few times that we really cracked on with the whole record from start to finish. We didn’t rush anything, it was just that the pace was blistering and yet so productive.
We weren’t studio virgins. In fact, we’d done quite a lot of recording for our age. Before things kicked off with Bros, we’d met a fireman called Ray Hedges – he went on to have success and work with Take That – who owned a sixteen-track, two-inch recording studio. It was pretty impressive, proper gear, and we recorded quite a bit of material with him, so being in the studio with Bros was nothing new.
Nevertheless, we couldn’t wait. Each morning we would make our way to the studio, full of energy and ideas for the day’s work ahead. We were delighted to discover that our producer was Nicky Graham – I think we needed to bring Nicky in, it was quite formulated and organized as a result. He had charts on the studio wall which listed all the component parts of each track and we would diligently work through each one day by day, ticking off lead vocals, bass, guitar, drums and so on as we went, like an advent calendar. It was just the most amazing feeling.
I remember looking at my reflection in the vocal booth thinking, I cannot believe I am making a record! I just sang my heart out on all those tracks, ‘I Owe You Nothing’, ‘When Will I Be Famous?’, ‘Drop The Boy’, ‘Cat Among The Pigeons’, really giving it my all. When I had finished the vocals, I was more reflective and I distinctly recall saying to