I suppose what I feel now looking back is that lyrically this track did not have the flourish and vision of our earlier work. On those first songs we had such a lyrical style, which I would triumphantly describe as an action painting of a thousand neon coloured tv channels. So does it get harder to retain that clear vision as you mature? Or is it that you lose that innocent “gang on the street” thirst for the new? We all struggle with this dilemma, trying to make sure new songs do not just retread the fresh ideas of our youth. It is why you can never go back or pretend you are still there - being eighteen - when you write. You have to be true to yourself, the person you are today, living in our grown up, responsible adult world. 

It is what makes reforming a band that was so extraordinary fraught with danger. 

How sexy was it then, being that androgynous glam Mad Max alien space gang, back in 1984? Walking through Soho in pink high heels and a Cockerel plume of pink hair with the Ultra Vixens snarling at passers by. We felt invincible, that we had this great secret, channeling Elvis into some futuristic rock and roll band like no other. I remember being so excited every time we did a gig thinking "just wait till you see this mother fuckers, this'll blow your tiny minds!!". It was the greatest aphrodisiac in the world.

Now nearly thirty years later, I question whether you can just dress in the warrior clothes of those young men and believe - along with your loyal fans - that everything is still as it was... looking, along with them, in the mirror through nostalgic glasses, even if they are still the mirror shades of Bruce Stirling.  Now I seriously reflect if there is a way to do it with dignity.  I wonder if it’s possible to make it work at this point in time - as we look now with youth no longer on our side - or does it denigrate everything we stood for during that perfect moment in time, by trying for the impossible - trying to claw back time?

PART 5 IN A CONTINUING SERIES....

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What I never want to see again is our creation, the mighty Starship Sputnik, reduced to playing in some pub venue or tiny obscure club.  The legacy we created deserves better than that.  It should be seen playing on a large stage where the idea, the myth and the monster truly belongs.

It’s seeing two drummers still pounding out that Terminator beat.  It’s seeing Divine channeled into a futuristic Elvis, with a global quiffed Ziggy blowing on guitar. And look, there’s Colonel Kurtz on bass, just the right side of madness, scheming the dreams. Finally, Jane Mansfield on Dub effects in the LED glow of a thousand TV screens while the UltraVixens lurk in the shadows. Playing a festival in some Mad Max desert, a club in Shanghai or on the 142nd floor of a Hong Kong tower.

Now that would be something to dream of.