Still having fun in the love shack

The B-52's started as a bit of a laugh but their anti-punk party sound has endured and is now being enjoyed by a new generation. LINDA HERRICK reports

It all began with a drink. A flaming big drink, quaffed by a group of students who would later morph into a band called the B-52's. It was 1976, and the five friends were at a Chinese restaurant in Athens, Georgia. "We couldn't afford the dinner but we saw this rum drink called a Flaming Volcano," recalls guitarist Keith Strickland. "It looked very enticing so we ordered it.

"It came in a huge ceramic bowl with flames coming out of the top. It had straws coming out the side. We drank it, then we went to a friend's house and started jamming. That was the first time we played together, the five of us."

At first, the five - then-drummer Strickland, singers Fred Schneider, Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson and her guitarist brother Ricky - were in it strictly for laughs.

"The sound kind of clicked and we thought, hey this is fun. Eventually we got about five or six songs together then a friend had a Valentine's Day party and asked us to play. We thought that would be the first and last time we would ever play," chuckles Strickland, on the line from Key West, Florida.

Contrary to their early instincts, the band's high-camp appeal endures 25 years on. Their hits are instantly recognisable classics now and have found a new generation of fans - and provided the soundtrack for the odd TV commercial, too.

Their first eponymous album, released in 1979 and recently voted by Rolling Stone magazine as one of the greatest albums made, dared to party when punk cast a heavy pall.

Schneider and the two heavily bouffanted girls let rip on perky riff-laden songs such as Rock Lobster, Dance This Mess Around, Planet Claire, 52 Girls.

The lyrics were mad - "Why won't you dance with me? I'm not no limburger!" - but no one cared. The B-52's rocked, in a unique wigged-out way, and they were fabulous to dance to. They still are.

The hits continued to roll out during the 80s - Private Idaho, Roam, Quiche Lorraine, Cosmic Thing and Love Shack. During the 90s and this decade the band has kicked back.

They still play regularly but work to fit in with scattered geography, family commitments and solo projects. "We play two or three times a month," says Strickland, "but it's not a like a tour, per se."

The venues are more sophisticated these days, too. They played at the Valentine's Day Mardi Gras at Universal Studios in Orlando, Florida. The next gig on their leisurely schedule is next weekend's Mission Estate concert in Taradale, with Belinda Carlisle and John Farnham, where they are guaranteed to be the liveliest act on the bill.

But let's backtrack to the beginning - and the name. The B-52 is the moniker of the long-range bombers made notorious during the Vietnam War, when the Americans dropped 2.6 million tons of "ordnance".

"We were trying to think of a name and we went through a list," explains Strickland. "One night I had this dream where there was a hotel lounge with a band playing and they were called the B-52's.

"I woke up and thought, that's a good name, but the band said no because it had such negative connotations. But it's also slang in the south for bouffant hairdos, so it was, 'Kate and Cindy, if you wear bouffant hairdos - or any of us, actually, ha ha - we'll use the name'."

Although Strickland says they all take music seriously - certainly if the appeal was based purely on their kitschy image, it wouldn't have lasted - "it was very much about creating a good time".

"We were fortunate to hit on this sound which had an immediate response. We have a sense of humour about what we do but it's difficult for me to say what it is that other people find attractive about us. We started out trying to entertain ourselves, then we realised other people found it interesting."

Things were grooving along nicely in the early 80s. They were touring worldwide, scoring hit after hit. But in 1985, Ricky Wilson - Strickland's friend since college days and his songwriting partner - died of an Aids-related illness. The B-52's simply stopped.

"We went through a two-year period after Ricky died when we didn't think we would continue. We couldn't imagine doing this without Ricky. He was such a dear, close friend.

"To console myself, I continued to write. It was very much part of the healing process. Then Cindy and Kate heard some stuff I was doing and they warmed to the idea that we should continue."

And so the album Cosmic Thing came out in 1989, its playlist including the massive hits Love Shack and Roam. It changed Strickland's life - he had to switch from playing the drums on stage to taking over Wilson's role as guitarist.

"Ricky had a distinctive way of playing - he used open tuning. When we were writing we used to swap around instruments so I could play guitar, and I thought it was going to be difficult to find someone who could take that approach.

"It was a huge leap in terms of performance. It feels very different being up in front of the stage instead of being back behind the drums where you feel protected. It's taken a few years to get used to that - I'm still working on it, actually," he laughs.

At least being upfront means he gets to watch Schneider's bizarre antics. "He cracks me up, you never know what he's going to do. He's really a very shy person behind the scenes but when he's got an audience he's the biggest ham."* The B-52's, with Belinda Carlisle and John Farnham, Mission Estate, Taradale, Saturday, February 28.