ABC – The Lexicon of Love Live review

Martin Fry admits ABC knew exactly what they were doing when recording the Lexicon of Love in 1982. Speaking to Strange Brew he very openly explained “We wanted the record to sound in a way, crisp, in time and very polished. And that comes from that programming…we were ready for the next way of recording, and I have to say we were kind of ahead of the game because that’s the way people did make records throughout the 80s and into the 90s.”

After snagging a major deal, their first single Tears Are Not Enough had been a minor hit. But in amongst the sea of raincoats, synths and parkas, the quartet had big ambitions – and so they hired producer Trevor Horn, then best known for his work with sickly-sweet Dollar. The juxtaposition between the soul and schmaltz inspired material they’d written and Horn’s studio wonkery was inspired, resulting in a brand of cabaret funk that under the chassis was razor sharp, with Fry’s bittersweet lyrics adding both venom and intellect. The Lexicon of Love would go on to sell a million copies worldwide.

That success over time understandably proved difficult to recapture. However still active but now essentially a solo vehicle for the singer, the chance to recreate the album’s vintage glitz four decades later, this time with a full orchestra and in the band’s home city of Sheffield, was too good to pass up.

After a warm up medley of post-Lexicon hits, the main course is served with justifiable panache. In a sense though the in-sequence renditions are no frills, as any temptation to stray into eight-minute trumpet solos is resisted, a sideways glance to the musical economy and punch of it’s birth era. Four by fours parked all in a row outside, the noisy audience are well versed in the material and their role, but it’s the Look of Love which brings the show to an affectionate peak, a finale that’s a classically arranged version of a classic. Just don’t tell Trevor.

You can read a full review here.