“Carl sets his own soundtrack to this vivid and colourful book. I’m thrilled to have been part of that soundtrack. Wonderful, captures the time perfectly.” – Marc Almond
Carl and I were born in 1969, six months apart – he in Birmingham, me in London – so many of the reference points, often raw, occasionally reverential, hit home like Peter Gabriel’s ubiquitous sledgehammer.
Just why weren’t Boy George O’Dowd, Pete Burns or Marc Almond more vocal in the sexual preferences department back then? Were they afraid Thatch would have them incarcerated in the Tower of London, or did they assume the false eyelashes, blusher and lippy did the talking for them?
Anyway, Kiss & Make Up is an eloquent and wittily written personal memoir about a misspent youth as a club-going New Romantic. There are innumerable wild tales in there that had me feel a whole gamut of emotions. I laughed out loud disconcertingly often, and you will too.
(NB See Emma Coray, if you want journalists to plug your tomes it’s probably a good idea to actually send them to said scribe. Well, it is if you’re just kissing to be clever.)