

Matthew Rudd pic (c) Jamie Stephenson
If you work Mondays to Fridays, Sunday nights don’t have a good reputation. They’re about winding down the weekend, and about preparing for another week of grindstone. Creeping into the late Sunday night routine in recent years, though, has been a reassuring but often adventurous radio show, tapping into a generation’s nostalgia for the 1980s. For two hours every week, from 9pm UK time, Forgotten 80s gathers together listeners’ requests for the underplayed and the undervalued from all kinds of pop music genres.
Forgotten 80s’ creator, presenter and producer is Matthew Rudd, who has worked in radio for 30 years, initially at stations in the North of England including Hallam FM in Sheffield, Viking FM in Hull, and Stockport’s Imagine FM.
But he has since reached a national audience via Q Radio and since 2013, Absolute 80s, the decade-specific offshoot of Absolute Radio, and it was my pleasure to invite him on to First Last Anything to launch this third series of conversations on music. Over two Zoom sessions in June 2025, we discussed how he puts Forgotten 80s together, how it all came about, and how it continues to link together a loyal band of listeners on a variety of social media platforms every Sunday.
Matthew also talked to me about how he first got into music, about a band who put his home city of Hull on the map, although Hull was already generally on maps obviously, and about some of the other acts who have floated his musical boat down the years. We hope you enjoy our conversation.
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JUSTIN LEWIS:
Let’s start with the question I ask everyone. What music would have been playing in your house in your formative years?
MATTHEW RUDD:
I was raised in East Yorkshire and my parents are both from East Yorkshire. I love my parents dearly, but I’ve always felt they were brought up in a period where so much exciting stuff was going on and it completely passed them by. Either because they didn’t get access to it, but more likely because of the influence of their own parents; I think that they were told ‘this isn’t for you’ and therefore ‘stay away from it’.
My dad was born in 1940 and my mum in 1942, both still with us, and so both teenagers when Elvis Presley came along. The immediate reaction of their own parents was ‘this is not good’ – you know, like all parents are with new stars. But of course this was more than that – the advent of rock’n’roll, the beginning of what we would now call a modern world.
My dad’s only experience of music – I don’t know this for certain – was hearing a transistor radio while he was at work, as a motor mechanic, fixing a car. Most places where they’re providing a service and the customer has to stay for a while or the service involves the staff being in the same place for a long time, they’re going to have the radio on in the background, and I don’t think that was any different back in the 50s and 60s.
My mum, though, did notice stuff. Her parents were much more musically minded, they liked going dancing between the wars, when they first met and then, after the war when my mum and my auntie were little, they didn’t have a lot of money, but they treated themselves by going to a dance club. But also my granddad was always into Perry Como. And so, the very first record I remember in the house – I was preschool, so 76/77 – was a Perry Como LP. Couldn’t tell you what it was called, but it had ‘It’s Impossible’ on it.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
He had that revival, that second little run of hits in the 70s, didn’t he, that and ‘And I Love You So’.
MATTHEW RUDD:
Now my granddad died in 1991; he was nearly 80. We’re almost 35 years later and my mum who’s now in her 80s, still says, ‘Oh, my favourite was always Perry Como.’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, but it was his music.’
Later, when I was a teenager, I found this 7-inch singles box stowed away somewhere. There was Elvis Presley’s ‘Rock-A-Hula Baby’, the double A-side with ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ (1961). Now, neither of my parents remembers buying it. So whose was it, where did it come from? And did they have anything to play it on? I’m convinced my granddad on my dad’s side, who died when I was ten, would not have had a record player. But there was also a copy of Louis Armstrong’s ‘What a Wonderful World’ (1968), and the other albums included a Leo Sayer album [Leo Sayer, 1978], with the Buddy Holly song ‘Raining in My Heart’ on it… and Arrival by ABBA (1976). And I remember my mum was particularly keen on one of that album’s tracks, ‘When I Kissed the Teacher’.
But, apart from that Perry Como LP, I’ve never known who owned these records. I’m guessing it’s my mother, though my dad is not a music ignoramus. He’s a good singer. And this is something that he will be known for, by every member of his family all his life – he knows the first line to every single song that’s ever been recorded – and no more.
So to answer your question about the music that I grew up with, I had to learn about it myself and I learned more from my elder brother – same age as you, born 1970, and a completely fervent and loyal rock fan – who went to a Motörhead gig at Hull City Hall at the age of 13.
He had a friend who was a year older, really into heavy rock. Motörhead were on tour. His mate got two tickets – and he wanted to go, obviously – but he’s 13 and it’s Motörhead, they’ve been massive with ‘Ace of Spades’ et al, and it’s Hull City Hall in the middle of the city centre, on a school night. And he was allowed to go on one condition: that my dad drove him there, parked outside the City Hall and stayed there for however long the gig was – two hours, whatever. And then, when the gig’s over, Dad expects his first-born son to be out of the door and straight back into the passenger seat immediately. And that’s exactly how it transpired.
That he was allowed to go to that, though, is amazing. My mum would have made the final decision, but it’s a tribute to my dad because he had a father who really did not rate anything about the modern world and didn’t actually rate his son very much. They had a very difficult, awkward relationship, which only got better when he left home and got married and produced grandchildren with his surname. That was important.
Meanwhile, my mum’s younger sister, my auntie, is a baby boomer, born in 1946. My granddad had been out to war. And like an awful lot of couples, as soon as my grandparents reunited, when the war was over, another child was soon on the way. So when The Beatles became really prominent, she was 16 years old.
In 1963 or ‘64, my auntie got tickets to go and see The Beatles, at the old ABC cinema on Ferensway. So she’s 17 or 18, but she’s living at home. And my grandma just said, ‘You’re not going’. And that was it. That was the end of the debate. Nowadays, there’d be bartering, bargaining, pleading, third party gets involved. But: no. My auntie’s always been quite generous about it – ‘Well, it’s just the way things were, so I didn’t go’ – but I can’t help but think she never forgave my grandma for that. Because the Beatles never came back to Hull.
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FIRST (1): SHAKIN’ STEVENS: ‘This Ole House’ (Epic Records, single, 1981)
MATTHEW RUDD:
I was not quite eight years old, so clearly Shakin’ Stevens was going to appeal to me. I was the right age for purchasing this record, with the help of my parents. Every major city has a local record store of great repute, and ours in Hull was called Sydney Scarborough. The address was ‘under the City Hall, Hull’, and that was enough. And I think that’s where my mum had gone to buy it for me.
That was my first record that I had bought for me. And over the next year or two, Mum would continue to buy the odd record for me, from town.
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FIRST (2): HOWARD JONES: ‘What is Love?’ (WEA Records, single, 1983)
MATTHEW RUDD:
But the first record that I bought myself was Howard Jones, ‘What is Love?’, in January ’84-ish. It got to number two, his biggest hit. And 1984… I can’t put into words how important that year was for me.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
That sounds like my 1980. Pop music became everything.
MATTHEW RUDD:
Well, there is this phenomenal period between the summer of 1980 and the end of 1981 where so many artists who defined the whole decade had their first hits – it’s incredible. You’ve got UB40, Joy Division, OMD, The Cure, Spandau Ballet, Linx, Ultravox, Bad Manners, Adam and the Ants in the second half of 1980, and then look at 1981: The Teardrop Explodes, Toyah, Duran Duran, Visage, Kim Wilde, Altered Images, Level 42, Depeche Mode, ABC, Human League, Freeez, Echo and the Bunnymen, Japan, U2, Imagination, Haircut 100, Soft Cell, Fun Boy Three… it almost goes on forever. I was seven and eight years old, I only noticed bits and bats, and didn’t see any bigger picture, and just liked Shakin’ Stevens because I was a child. If I’d been 11 then I don’t know how I would have
kept up, but I’d have had a good go.
And by the beginning of 1984, I’d started to be quite obsessed with the Top 40. I’d listen to the new chart on Tuesday, six o’clock [Radio 1, Peter Powell]. And that obsession came from the first Now That’s What I Call Music album, which was incredibly heavily advertised at the end of ‘83. And on that album was Howard Jones with ‘New Song’, which I’d seen him do on Top of the Pops.
By the time I started secondary school in September ‘84, I began to become known for my pop obsession, and also get slightly teased for it – but in particular my Howard Jones obsession had gone through the roof. I got the Human’s Lib album on cassette for my birthday – my grandma, the one who wouldn’t let my auntie go to see The Beatles, still managed to get herself to HMV and buy that for me.
I interviewed Howard Jones, in 2013, not long after I joined Absolute 80s. I was such a fanboy. It’s a good interview, I’m pleased with it – but I sound like somebody who knows slightly too much about him! He’s a lovely man, which is one of the reasons I liked him – he wasn’t controversial, but for 1983, ’84, he still looked relevant. He was a bit older, of course – he was twenty-eight when he had his first hit. He was a classically trained musician who ditched his boring square piano, and got this massive synth stack. He ditched his normal hairdo from his prog rock days, and his music teaching days and spiked it and turned it orange. And he found this mime artist geezer, Jed, with a bald head and stuck some chains on his wrist and said, you know, ‘Act like a div in front of me and let’s see what happens’. What can I say? I was ten years old and looking for somebody to idolise, and there he was.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
And you have something in common with him. Because obviously you’ve worked on overnight radio shifts…
MATTHEW RUDD:
Yes. He used to go to Piccadilly Radio in Manchester and he wasn’t allowed to use his real name because of something to do with the Musicians’ Union or something like that.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
He was billed as John Howard.
MATTHEW RUDD:
Well, his real name is John Howard Jones. His real first name is John. He studied at the Royal Northern College of Music in Manchester… And he used to go into what was then called Piccadilly Radio – became Key 103 later – and do songs on the overnight show.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
Apparently a psychedelic version of ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’.
MATTHEW RUDD:
Well he was a big prog man.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
Tell me how you got into radio, then.
MATTHEW RUDD:
I had two obsessions as a child. One was music and one was football. I wasn’t a musician and I wasn’t a good enough footballer, [but I was] so determined that these things were going to rule my adult life as much as my childhood. So I decided to go into journalism, because in any case, I was also quite a news and current affairs junkie. I took A levels in both English subjects and then after sixth form I went to Darlington College of Technology and did the NCTJ pre-entry certificate in newspaper journalism.
Prior to that, in 1989, when I was sixteen, I joined Kingstown Hospital Radio in Hull, at the Kingston General Hospital, which isn’t there anymore, but which was the original hospital radio station in England, started by a guy called Ken Fulstow (1920–83), who came up with the idea of setting up a radio station within a hospital to play music and requests and give messages to patients. [In 1969, Fulstow helped to set up NAHBO (the National Association of Hospital Broadcasting Organisations) and became its vice-president.] I learned the craft there, eventually well enough to get onto Hallam FM in Sheffield [1996]. Meanwhile, after I did my newspaper journalism qualification, I was a newspaper journalist, living in Huddersfield, and I worked for a news agency doing news and sport. But I was also doing what they called RSLs, Restricted Service Licences, which were 28-day FM stations handed out by the Radio Authority to people who wanted to put on a station in a town where the Radio Authority were considering advertising a permanent licence. So you basically got this opportunity to run your own 28-day radio station, see if it works, see what the reaction was. And then when the licence was advertised, you could apply for it permanently.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
Isn’t that how the original XFM [now Radio X] got started?
MATTHEW RUDD:
Yeah, that’s right.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
So where did the format of Forgotten 80s, your Sunday night show, come from, then? Because it began – and this is how I first became aware of you – as something called Q the 80s.
MATTHEW RUDD:
At the turn of the 21st century, in commercial radio, most FM stations, certainly ones that were targeting the slightly older adult contemporary audience, 25-to-44 year olds, would always have an 80s show. Friday evening, kickstart the weekend, nonstop 80s for four hours. And it was: ‘Come On Eileen’, ‘Don’t You Want Me’, ‘Don’t Leave Me This Way’, ‘The Only Way is Up’, etcetera etcetera. Every week. Which was taking the piss out of the people with a liking and a memory of this era because they were just playing the stuff that got overplayed in the first place. I mean, most commercial radio to this day (outside the one I work for) still thinks that Depeche Mode only had one hit single in the 1980s.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
‘Just Can’t Get Enough’, presumably.
MATTHEW RUDD:
Yes. At the time, Q Radio was run by an old chum of mine from Hallam FM called James Walshe, who was also the programme director of Kerrang! Radio, and Q was in the same building. Some Kerrang! presenters used to host voicetracked shows on Q, their own little pet projects, because nobody was calculating who was listening so they could put on whatever they liked that fitted in with the idea of what a Q magazine reader was.
So I emailed James with a treatment for a three-hour eclectic 80s show, Q the 80s, listed about half a dozen 80s songs, and I promise you, I got an e-mail back within 45 seconds saying, ‘When can you start?’ There was no money in it. I never got paid for Q the 80s, and I did 138 shows [September 2010 – April 2013], Sunday nights 6 till 9. I was still working for a living as a full-time presenter on stations all around the north as a freelancer, but I had this chance now to put together my own 80s programme, showing my image of who I was as a listener and as an adolescent.
Because I had been obsessed with music in the 80s, listening to everything, but not necessarily liking everything. But with my radio sensibilities, I knew that what the presenter likes isn’t necessarily what the listener will like, and vice versa. I persuaded myself that you can put on what you don’t like because somebody out there will really appreciate it because they do like it.
In fact, the biggest influence on both Q the 80s and then Forgotten 80s was a brilliant local show called Good Times, Great Oldies, hosted by a guy called Tim Jibson, who passed away earlier this year. He did it on BBC Radio Humberside, then on Viking Radio when they launched in the mid-80s, and then with his wife producing, much later on KCFM, the station that he ran which launched in Hull in 2007 (and I was on the launch team of that). I have no idea how they actually picked the music from different eras, 50s through to 80s, maybe the odd 90s track… but there would be detailed research on the songs and that made all the difference, plus they were often choosing less obvious songs from quite well-known artists. I’ve always wanted to be somebody who wants to pass on the basic facts about a record, or something they didn’t already know about the song in question. I got that inspiration from this show, and it was a big precursor to what I’ve done since.
When we started Q the 80s, we had a tiny cult audience almost entirely on social media because, Q wasn’t using RAJAR, so it had no calculation of audience figures. It wasn’t on DAB, you could only listen to Q on Freeview and online, and this is before smart speakers and before apps – so it was only on Freeview and its own website.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
And this is when I started listening, quite soon after it began. It started to trend well on social media, especially Twitter – did that surprise you?
MATTHEW RUDD:
Yeah, massively. I mean it. It thrilled me to bits because it was the only type of radio I wanted to do at this stage. I was otherwise eking out a living covering other people’s programmes on standard commercial radio and just phoning it in, you know, show and go as they call it.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
Then, in 2013, the Q the 80s format was tweaked for Forgotten 80s, on Absolute 80s. Tell me how that came about.
MATTHEW RUDD:
Q Radio was coming to a halt, but the format of Q the 80s was mine. My name was above the door as the producer, as well as the presenter – and I was desperate for that to continue. And Absolute said yes, you can continue that. I was giving up the industry at this point because I was retraining – and suddenly I’d been offered the biggest gig of my career.
Initially Forgotten 80s had no profile, it had to start somewhere – so I was quite cautious with music choices. When I joined in 2013, the station was only three and a half years old, and DAB was still fairly fledgling as a platform. We started to get more traffic when we put the show on a Mixcloud page after broadcast, and then eventually the app and smart speaker technology gave us more platforms to aid the show’s growth.
There’s only room for 24 tracks in a two-hour show, but I will get upwards of 150 requests a week, on e-mail alone, as well as all the stuff that comes in on social media during and after the show has been on. And then there’s all the stuff that comes in later, on the socials, with people who consume the show via Listen Again.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
For people who may not know the show, we should probably explain that it’s not just a standard 80s show, is it? Forgotten 80s, as its name suggests, treads a slightly different path.
MATTHEW RUDD:
It’s an 80s programme but it plays an awful lot that otherwise doesn’t get onto standard ‘80s radio. One or two selections scrape through on the Absolute 80s daytime schedule or during the rest of the weekend, but the vast majority of tracks don’t get on the station’s peak slots, and certainly not on other 80s stations, certainly not mainstream ones.
The opening night for Forgotten 80s was 26 May 2013, which was two days after my 40th birthday – the symmetry is wonderful. So every year, we do an anniversary show. This year, we’d done 12 years in May, we did songs that got to number 12 in the charts – a wide range of things… ‘Tower of Strength’ by The Mission; ‘Ever So Lonely’ by Monsoon; ‘Thinking of You’ by The Colour Field; ‘Easier Said Than Done’ by Shakatak.
But with Forgotten 80s I made sure I had features from day one. In fact, from the beginning of this year, I revived the one we started with, an hourly feature called ‘The Nobody’s Diary’, where we play singles from artists who charted between number 41 and number 100 but never actually made it to the Top 40, the route into the Radio 1 chart show and potentially Top of the Pops. ‘The Nobody’s Diary’ was the one feature I brought with me from Q the 80s.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
What are some of the other ones you’ve done? There have been several, haven’t there?
MATTHEW RUDD:
With ‘When Will I Be Famous?’, we’d play acts who became really big but whose initial singles flopped. ‘Dreaming of Me’ by Depeche Mode, for example, that sort of thing.
Then we did a couple of tie-ins with the retro chart shows that precedes us in the Absolute 80s schedules: Sarah Champion doing two 80s singles charts from 4 till 7, and Chris Martin doing the equivalent albums charts from those same two years from 7 till 9. So we’d find a couple of records that didn’t make those Top 40 singles charts or weren’t in the Top 20 album charts.
Another time, we did ‘Calling America’, selections from the Billboard Hot 100 from that week in two different years that never made the charts here – some of the stuff there never even got a UK release.
With ‘Flaunt the Imperfection’, people picked album tracks from two favourite albums of the 1980s. And finally last year, we did ‘Song for Whoever’ – cover versions released in the 1980s. Most of these features ran for two years at a time, though ‘Song for Whoever’ was just a year – and now we’ve gone back to ‘The Nobody’s Diary’.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
Do people suggest features to you from time to time?
MATTHEW RUDD:
They have done. ‘B-sides’ is one. I also get a lot of suggestions for ‘12-Inch Versions’.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
I remember suggesting that one myself, very early on! You explained why not, and I understood.
MATTHEW RUDD:
Because if you take a song that people already may not like very much, and then play the seven-minute version, which takes forever to start, you’re just going to piss people off. It’s too divisive.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
A surprising number of 12-inch versions are terrible, it must be said. Long for the sake of it, sometimes.
MATTHEW RUDD:
And we’ve had people suggesting a ‘novelty records feature’, which is a straight no. My first executive producer of Forgotten 80s, Martyn Lee, was incredibly supportive – he said: ‘As long as you’re not ridiculous.’ And by that, I think he meant: Don’t play any novelty records.
I get requests for novelty records all the time, but I’m not going to play them, partly because ultimately it’s my head on the block, but also because it’s counterproductive. The person who wants them: fine. But everyone else is going to go, ‘What’s he playing this shit for?’ And they’ll switch off. I can’t afford for that to happen. And I wouldn’t blame them for switching off, because I’d do the same.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
What is a novelty record, then? How would you define that?
MATTHEW RUDD:
If it’s designed to make people laugh, or if it’s an obvious parody, or if the artist is very obviously not taking it seriously. I’ve played the odd one which people say is a novelty record – the one that always comes up which I’m now looking forward to seeing on your playlist at the end of this is ‘John Kettley (Is a Weatherman)’ by A Tribe of Toffs (1988). A teenage band having a go, mentioning lots of celebrities, and it’s all a bit playful. It’s not offensive, it’s funny but it’s not laugh out loud – just random celebrities and random rhyming.
But there’s a ‘mini campaign’ on Facebook for ‘Seven Tears’ by the Goombay Dance Band [#1, 1982]. [JL gasps] Yeah, exactly. Your reaction says it all. But generally, I’m not complaining. Long-time listeners know what I’m going to play and what I’m not and they get it completely.
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LAST: BROTHERS OSBORNE: ‘Might as Well Be Me’ (from Brothers Osborne album, EMI Records Nashville, 2023)
JUSTIN LEWIS:
Not to be confused with the bluegrass act the Osborne Brothers, especially popular in the 60s and 70s, this is the Brothers Osborne, an entirely different act – and current, too.
MATTHEW RUDD:
I was listening to Planet Rock, and what I like about it as a radio station is that they take the word ‘rock’, and they look at every single subgenre with the word ‘rock’ in it – they’ll play hard rock, soft rock, prog rock, spandex rock, glam rock, Celtic rock, roots rock, a little bit of punk rock, and then they’ll play an awful lot of country rock. And that’s where these guys come in, because Planet Rock played this song, ‘Might as Well Be Me’. I thought it was great. I don’t know anything about them, it’s just two brothers, obviously American. Ultimately, with Planet Rock, if it’s got a guitar and a raucous vocal and a heartfelt lyric or whatever else, they think, ‘Our listeners are going to like it.’
JUSTIN LEWIS:
When we were setting this up, you acknowledged that you’re not listening to a lot of contemporary stuff, instead tending towards music that’s unfamiliar to you from different eras. And you mentioned that that started to kick in maybe about 15 years ago. It occurred to me that coincides with the creation of Q the 80s. So do you think that the 80s shows have necessitated you doing more listening research, or did you in any case find you were getting less satisfaction from new music – or both?
MATTHEW RUDD:
Well, certainly I was doing the research for the shows because it’s the professional thing to do. There are always going to be gaps in your knowledge and when somebody requests an unfamiliar song, you go off and look down the usual Spotify or YouTube rabbit holes and find a million other things at the same time…
But also, by 2013, by the time I came off daily commercial radio, it was my own choice. I lost a lucrative nightclub gig thanks to the premises closing which meant that my DJ work was no longer paying the bills on its own. I did love being on the radio, I loved prepping, the geeky side of it, working the desk, hitting the news on time, doing all the professional things. But the music – and a lot of jocks of this era will tell you this, depending on the station you’re on – was incidental. And repetitive. Your own taste never came into it – never does with formatted commercial radio, you play what you’re told, and you play it in that order…
JUSTIN LEWIS:
And with that frequency too.
MATTHEW RUDD:
Yes. And I was only forty, but I just felt too old for the majority of stuff. I didn’t mind most of it, but I can’t say I loved any of it. One genre that I’ve always found a struggle is R&B and that was dominating radio playlists. An awful lot of new music was R&B. Even the new music that wasn’t R&B was being pushed to one side. And there’s plenty of good R&B and I used to love playing it if I was doing a more modern club night – because I knew the audience would like it. There are records like ‘Yeah!’ by Usher, which I will always turn up if I hear it. But the majority of it was insipid, bland, boring – and I just didn’t like it. And unfortunately, it really dominated radio playlists at the turn of the century.
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ANYTHING (1): THE HOUSEMARTINS: London 0 Hull 4 (Go! Discs album, 1986)
Extract: ‘Happy Hour’
MATTHEW RUDD:
I don’t know how much airplay they got before ‘Happy Hour’ – but that video became part of the psyche, and it became national as much as it became local. But I’d never seen them live – I was too young, and also, I always lived in the East Riding, so the city centre and the music venues were always at least a bus ride away. And I think my dad had, by now, gone beyond the stage of ferrying his lads into town to watch bands anymore. Plus, it was a different era for me, I was doing other things in the evening. I was a competitive swimmer and that dominated things.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
So how quickly did you get round to buying this album? It came out at the end of June 1986, just as ‘Happy Hour’ was in the top three.
MATTHEW RUDD:
I’m pretty certain I saved my pocket money, and bought the cassette – cassettes were just handier and you could play them in the car. And I bought it in the summer holidays, so if it came out in June, I got it within a month or so. But I’d heard about the Housemartins not from the teenage music press that I read but from the local paper – they were in the Hull Daily Mail all the time, and were interviewed on BBC Radio Humberside. They were playing the Adelphi, still a very famous venue. Paul Heaton lived around the corner from it for years – even at his most famous in the Beautiful South, he was still living on Grafton Street and talking about the Grafton pub and the Adelphi Night, the Adelphi Music Club, still a brilliant going concern to this day.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
It’s very interesting to see, in that period, ’85–88, even at the height of their fame, they’re talking to the local press, the Hull Daily Mail, much more than the national press. When they decided to stop, Norman Cook did quite a long interview with the paper, and you get a completely different side of them to how they ended up being marketed in the national media, in which they were portrayed as first ‘wacky’ and then attacked for daring to have opinions on things. The ‘Happy Hour’ video, and it’s brilliant, does unfortunately and unwittingly pigeonhole them as The Wacky Housemartins. And of course, on this album – they’re not that at all.
MATTHEW RUDD:
No, they’re not. They’re ‘wacky’ because of that video, but that video is a massive pisstake of people in the City, making too much money and being obnoxious and being unpleasant to bar staff, especially female members of staff. London 0 Hull 4 is wonderful – nearly every song is brief but the lyrics hit you hard, and the musicality is fantastic. Only ‘Lean On Me’ goes on for any length of time, and that’s more an epic piano track.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
And ‘Flag Day’’s a very different arrangement on the album to how it was as the single, their first single which Norman wasn’t on. Ted Key, the original bassist, is on that. Norman joined after that.
MATTHEW RUDD:
‘Think for a Minute’ was like ‘Flag Day’ in that it was very different in arrangement when released as a single. I don’t remember hearing ‘Flag Day’ as a single – it didn’t chart, and therefore it fell by the wayside. ‘Sheep’, my first experience of them, nearly made the Top 40. But ‘Happy Hour’ was when I realised I liked them, and they remain a favourite band. And that album means so much to me because they’re ours.
Hull’s musical history – and there’s half a million people here – is not considered outstanding. That’s not to say there weren’t great people making music from here; they just never got the breaks or got the chance. Whatever, you know… life happened for them, presumably. We did have David Whitfield [light operatic tenor, was #1 for 10 weeks in 1954 with ‘Cara Mia’], whose granddaughter was in the year below me at school. Joe Longthorne, brilliant entertainer, was from Hull. Mick Ronson – now more revered in the city than I think he ever was when he was alive. There’s a stage in Queen’s Gardens named after him, a memorial in East Park and a mural on a wall in Cranbrook Avenue, in the middle of the student belt.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
Do you claim Everything But the Girl as Hull, as obviously they were at university there?
MATTHEW RUDD:
Oh yeah, because they formed there. The Housemartins, similarly – Paul Heaton’s formative years were spent in Manchester, Peterborough and Sheffield – and then he moved to Hull where the Housemartins formed. But Everything But the Girl – who famously took their name from a local furniture shop in the city, a shop I used to walk past every week to get to the hospital radio station – are one of the three bands from Hull who Paul Heaton claimed were better than the Housemartins because they used to label themselves ‘the fourth best band in Hull’.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
Red Guitars were one of the other two, I think, and…?
MATTHEW RUDD:
The Gargoyles. I’m assuming Kingmaker hadn’t formed at that point. But also, the Housemartins called themselves Christian socialists. They had the little crucifixes shaved into their heads. How religious they really were, I don’t know. But they combined Christian values with left-wing politics. And whether you agreed with them or not, it was just completely infectious.
I can’t put into words just how much my class at school talked about that album over the rest of 1986. And at the end of the year, when ‘Caravan of Love’, which wasn’t on the album, got to number one… you could have asked the Lord Mayor of Hull to give everybody a day off work and he would probably have said yes. It was that important, Justin. I can’t emphasise it enough – their impact on the reputation of a city that still hasn’t got, hasn’t had for a long time, a good reputation, even though most people who say that Hull’s a shithole have never been there.
They’re still revered around here, the Housemartins. They’ll never get back together again – not properly anyway. I remember publicly saying I’d hope they would reconvene after Hull got awarded the City of Culture status for 2017, but it never happened, although Paul and Jacqui Abbott did a gig at Craven Park, home of one our rugby league teams, during that year. They were supposed to reform when the Adelphi had a big anniversary a couple of years ago and they nearly managed it. But Norman got delayed and had to pull out. Paul, Stan and Dave Hemingway were there. But then Norman did Glastonbury, didn’t he, last year, with Paul, playing ‘Happy Hour’. I’d have loved to have seen Stan and Dave there as well.
—–
ANYTHING (2): JESUS JONES: Doubt (Food Records, 1991)
Extract: ‘Trust Me’
MATTHEW RUDD:
The first time I knew about Jesus Jones was ‘Info-Freako’, great record, which just missed the Top 40 in ’89. And then ‘Real Real Real’ came out [spring 1990] and I just thought, What a brilliant song. It’s no more scientific than that! I bought this album, on CD, I had a CD player by then, early 91, while I was doing my A levels. I went to Sydney Scarborough again, and bought that and Mixed Up by The Cure on the same day. I had a part-time job in a pizza takeaway at this stage, so I had a little bit more money, bit more disposable income, and saved for a CD player and then started getting CDs.
Doubt is still a great album. It opens with this two-minute jam, ‘Trust Me’, which starts with this little sound of a door opening or something. And then in the background, a voice: ‘Trust me, I know what I’m doing.’ And then immediately this noise starts up. They actually put a warning on the album notes that some of the music could cause damage to speaker equipment! Some of the songs had been deliberately recorded slightly louder than the recommended level for recorded music played on stereo systems or hi-fis. And ‘Trust Me’ is so loud – it’s a noise but it’s a musical noise. Adrian Edmondson always said that the Sex Pistols were the best punk band because they made the best noise and I know what he means.
The second song is ‘Who? Where? Why?’, a much better version than the one that came out as a single. A guitar part that bangs you right between the ears. And that was a track that I could play at full volume on my hi-fi. I made a point of it, especially when I was a student in Darlington and had my own digs, I loved blasting that. And coming straight after ‘Trust Me’… it was a loud, relentless, unforgiving guitar song, but with a with a singer, with a melody, with an electronic element. I liked that Jesus Jones were a fusion band, electronic as well as guitar led, which attracted me more than bands like the Stone Roses, who I’ve never really had much time for. Although I also liked Inspiral Carpets because I love the organ motif on most of their records, and they had the best singer of the era in Tom Hingley.
Also, on Doubt, later on, you get ‘Right Here Right Now’, Mike Edwards’ effort at talking about the revolutions in Eastern Europe at the end of the 80s. The fall of Romania. The split of Czechoslovakia into two separate states. Lech Walesa had done his job in Poland, the fall of the Berlin Wall, and of course the breakup of the USSR in the early 90s.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
Which was not a particularly big hit here, but was massive in America [#2 on Billboard, in fact].
MATTHEW RUDD:
And at the end of the album there’s this song called ‘Blissed’, their kind of ambient track, with bleeps on it that sounds a bit like the pips on the radio.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
I was very interested to discover that while making this album they’d been listening to the KLF’s ambient album, Chill Out. That and Janet Jackson.
MATTHEW RUDD:
There’s not a lot of ambience on the album – ‘I’m Burning’ is one, ambient but still a sort of fusion track.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
But there are quite a few samples. And I think when they were doing remixes as well, they were really interested in all that, I think they got a lot of inspiration from Pop Will Eat Itself and people like that.
MATTHEW RUDD:
They were influenced by dance music, but they had guitars in their hands as well and as songwriters and as performers they could marry the two. In turn, Jesus Jones heavily influenced EMF, who were younger, a little bit less mature, more tabloid fodder.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
Also massive in America, briefly [‘Unbelievable’ was a US #1 single].
MATTHEW RUDD:
Yeah, at the same time – the two bands became sort of touring mates.
—-
JUSTIN LEWIS:
How do you put each Forgotten 80s together, then?
MATTHEW RUDD:
When it comes to picking the music, for the main body of the show, I have three rules.
The first rule – and it has to be my decision in the end – is that the record in question is underplayed. The show’s called Forgotten 80s, but if you’ve been listening for ten years or more, nothing’s forgotten anymore, because I’ve kind of played everything. So ‘underplayed’ is a better word now – a song from the 1980s that you think doesn’t get on the radio often enough, if at all. That’s the first rule, kind of the main rule.
The second rule: to guarantee that we don’t get too much repetition, so that the artists are spread around in the various genres and that the individual years are evened out, there’s always a thirty-show gap between each play of a song. Once I’ve played the song, I have to wait at least thirty shows – usually longer, depending on requests – before I’ll play it again.
And the third rule: no artist is repeated two weeks in a row. So I wouldn’t play, say, Ultravox two weeks running – although when it comes to solo careers of group members, I could play Midge Ure – or Visage for that matter.
But mainly, it’s about gut feeling: ‘Those two tracks will sound good together.’ It’s about mixing it up and representing as many people as possible who put requests in.
JUSTIN LEWIS:
And you really do mix genres up – not always to everyone’s satisfaction! There was a running joke that certain listeners would announce they were putting the bins out whenever a heavy metal record would start, but I quite enjoy that element, not least because it evokes what an 80s top 40 chart was like. Heavy metal was part of the mix.
MATTHEW RUDD:
Yeah, though I have a soft spot for those tracks because they bled through my bedroom walls throughout my childhood via my brother’s collection. People also do the bins joke with a lot of dance records from the end of the 80s. But I’ve got the nerve to play almost anything – as long as there are no obscenities – if it fits those three rules. I do like a mad segue, and they often get picked up by people on the socials – my most memorable one was putting The Fall next to Elaine Paige and Barbara Dickson, and then imagining the number of programme directors throughout my career who were obsessed with pigeonholing and compartmentalising music and presenters and audiences that would now be tearing their hair out! But nobody at Absolute has ever come to me after a show and told me not to do something again.
Generally, I’m not one who dislikes. Of 1980s bands, I’m known for not liking Simple Minds and New Order, but between them, they’ve been played on the show 124 times in over 600 shows. As we’re speaking, I’m putting show 627 together. So about a fifth of the shows have featured at least one of those two groups. Because people ask for them and I’m not quite so pompous to say, ‘Well, I don’t like that band, so I’m not going to play their record.’
JUSTIN LEWIS:
The request element of it is very important. Because, especially via social media… you’ve created a community through that show, there’s no question about it.
MATTHEW RUDD:
Well, we’ve had one Forgotten 80s wedding. I think at least two other couples have got together through the show, if not got married. But the weirdest thing, though, which I still can’t get my head around: every year, maybe twice a year, some listeners have a tweet-up or meet-up. They meet in a pub somewhere and do karaoke and quizzes – and these are all people who largely didn’t know each other. They’ve come together because they’ve met on social media through this tatty two-hour show that appears on their radios at the end of the weekend. It’s brilliant. It’s a huge, magnificent compliment – but it’s also a bit of a mindblower.
I count my blessings literally every week, because – something that isn’t always known and certainly isn’t common within the industry – not only do I present this show, I produce it as well. It’s the most privileged job in radio, as far as I’m concerned.
—–
You can hear Forgotten 80s with Matthew Rudd every Sunday on Absolute 80s between 9 and 11pm (UK time). You can stream Absolute 80s here: https://radioplayer.planetradio.co.uk/ab8, or tune in via your DAB radio.
Here’s how you can get involved in suggesting tracks for the show:
Via the Facebook page ‘Forgotten 80s – Requests’.
Or email Matthew via Absolute Radio here: matthew.rudd@absoluteradio.co.uk
Before you do that, take a look at the Forgotten 80s blog, with details of every show’s set list since it began in 2013: https://forgotten80s.blogspot.com/.
And search ‘matthewjrudd’ on Spotify to find playlists of every Forgotten 80s feature, and most of the show’s special editions.
Check out the archive of Disco Dancing 80s, a show Matthew sold around commercial and community stations a few years back. The tracks chosen were selected from the Disco/Club charts in the music press during the 1980s. The shows (50 editions, arranged chronologically and all anniversary based) are available to listen to here: https://www.mixcloud.com/DD80s/
Matthew is also a columnist for Classic Pop magazine: https://www.classicpopmag.com/
Finally, please consider donating to Matthew’s favourite charity: Parkinson’s UK – https://www.parkinsons.org.uk
Follow Matthew on Bluesky at @matthewjrudd.bsky.social
——
FLA PLAYLIST 25:
Matthew Rudd

Spotify playlist link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5iv1pSVvbqiqpSuCPJ3yTu?si=e13576b945554b3d
(For the time being, this site and project uses Spotify for the conversation playlists, but obviously I disapprove that Spotify doesn’t pay artists and composers properly, and other streaming platforms are available, as are sites to buy downloads and buy recordings. For consistency, you can also listen to the selections via YouTube (where available), and links are provided in each case, below.)
Thanks to Tune My Music, you can also transfer this playlist to the platform or site of your choice by using this link: https://www.tunemymusic.com/share/KMEXs4aWEH
Track 1: PERRY COMO: ‘It’s Impossible’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8yzk5wuNTk&list=RDX8yzk5wuNTk&start_radio=1
Track 2: ELVIS PRESLEY: ‘Rock-a-Hula Baby’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nMIdBzQcsy8&list=RDnMIdBzQcsy8&start_radio=1
Track 3: ABBA: ‘When I Kissed the Teacher’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8dW8XRt5-hY&list=RD8dW8XRt5-hY&start_radio=1
Track 4: MOTORHEAD: ‘Ace of Spades’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMavhk16FJU&list=RDPMavhk16FJU&start_radio=1
Track 5: SHAKIN’ STEVENS: ‘This Ole House’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRvcrWGUmR4&list=RDdRvcrWGUmR4&start_radio=1
Track 6: HOWARD JONES: ‘What Is Love?’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w34vnz_LEX4&list=RDw34vnz_LEX4&start_radio=1
Track 7: DEPECHE MODE: ‘Dreaming of Me’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DeRezaKB_os&list=RDDeRezaKB_os&start_radio=1
Track 8: A TRIBE OF TOFFS: ‘John Kettley (Is a Weatherman)’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJRdsqMvBgE&list=RDXJRdsqMvBgE&start_radio=1
Track 9: BROTHERS OSBORNE: ‘Might As Well Be Me’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCuNc3XfFVA&list=RDrCuNc3XfFVA&start_radio=1
Track 10: USHER featuring LIL JON, LUDACRIS: ‘Yeah!’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GxBSyx85Kp8&list=RDGxBSyx85Kp8&start_radio=1
Track 11: THE HOUSEMARTINS: ‘Happy Hour’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I9-_0RJYGl0&list=RDI9-_0RJYGl0&start_radio=1
Track 12: THE HOUSEMARTINS: ‘Caravan of Love’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehfiQd7lcPY&list=RDehfiQd7lcPY&start_radio=1
Track 13: JESUS JONES: ‘Trust Me’:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CK3C9XZcTbM&list=RDCK3C9XZcTbM&start_radio=1
Track 14: JESUS JONES: ‘Who? Where? Why?’ (Album Version):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fidPRriWTrQ&list=RDfidPRriWTrQ&start_radio=1


