Welcome to the world of objectively subjective chronicles

The Human League – Don’t You Want Me

The single Oakey tried to hold back

In October 1980, half of The Human League walked out. Martyn Ware and Ian Craig Marsh left to form Heaven 17. Philip Oakey and Philip Adrian Wright still owed Virgin Records an album. On a night out at the Crazy Daisy in Sheffield, Oakey asked two teenagers, Joanne Catherall and Susan Ann Sulley, to join as singers and dancers. They were still at school. The first single with their faces on the sleeve, “Boys and Girls,” only reached No. 47 in Britain, and they had not even sung on it.

Virgin wanted a clearer pop record. Oakey brought in Ian Burden and Jo Callis, the latter fresh from The Rezillos, and booked Martin Rushent’s Genetic Studios in Reading. Rushent produced Dare, released by Virgin on 16 October 1981. It went to No. 1 in the UK. “Don’t You Want Me” was written by Oakey with Callis and Wright, and placed near the end of the album. Oakey took the story from a photo-strip in a teen magazine and from the film A Star Is Born: a man claims he made a woman’s career, and she answers that she was already on her way. Sulley sings the reply. She has pointed out, more than once, that she was never a waitress in a cocktail bar.

Oakey thought the song was too light to be a single. Rushent’s mix pushed the drum machine and the bright repeated synthesizer line forward. Virgin issued it anyway, on 27 November 1981, as the fourth single from the album, after “The Sound of the Crowd,” “Love Action (I Believe in Love),” and “Open Your Heart.” It became the Christmas No. 1 and stayed there for five weeks. It was the best-selling UK single of 1981. In the United States it reached No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in July 1982.

I thought it was too light for a single. Martin made it brighter than I wanted, and the label put it out anyway.

(Philip Oakey, on “Don’t You Want Me”)

The video, directed by Steve Barron, pretends to be a film set. Oakey plays a director. Sulley plays the performer he says he discovered. Catherall is in the clip as well. The picture matched the lyric without pretending the cocktail-bar line was Sulley’s biography. In 1981 Oakey could also hear the song the other way: he called it a proper pop record in the line of Abba. Years later he was harsher, and treated it as the group’s overly neat moment. Both remarks sit on the same tape.

What the record actually does is simple to follow. A drum machine holds a steady dance beat. Synthesizers carry the repeated line. Two voices trade the story, his in a flat baritone, hers answering line for line. Dare had already made the new Human League a chart group. This single is the one that put Oakey, Sulley, and Catherall on American radio, whether or not the singer had wanted it there.