‘We were the Girls Next Door. On drugs’
The subject of a remarkable new documentary, pioneering girl band the Go-Go’s talk to Neil McCormick
The Go-Go’s made girl group history when their fizzy New Wave debut album, Beauty
and the Beat, went to number one in America in 1982. They were the first all-female band who played their own instruments and wrote their own songs to ever achieve that feat. Astonishingly, 38 years later, they remain the only ones. “You hear about how things have changed for women in music,” notes bassist Kathy Valentine. “Maybe they have, but not as much as people like to think.”
I spoke with four out of five surviving band members by phone about a highly entertaining new documentary that tells the story of the rise and fall and resurrection of the Go-Go’s. It’s a rip-roaring tale of intense friendship, musical adventure and hair-raising hedonism to match any other band’s saga of sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll. “All the clichés,” as frontwoman Belinda Carlisle notes, with an amused if slightly longsuffering sigh. “When it came to partying and debauchery, we were just doing what any rock band would do. We were young, we had money and no responsibilities and so we took advantage. Just like most guys would.”
Except the Go-Go’s weren’t most guys. “Women in that time had a limited amount of choices in the music business – you could be a slut or a bookworm,” notes guitarist Jane Wiedlin, who at 62 still talks with the squeaky tone of a cartoon character. “We never used our sexuality to get anywhere, so we got shoved into the box marked Girls Next Door. And, I mean, sure, we were those girls. On drugs.”
Although the Go-Go’s achieved success with bright, catchy, pop rock hits such as Our Lips Are Sealed and
We Got the Beat, their roots lay in LA’s punk scene. Carlisle and Wiedlin formed the band as teenagers after attending the Sex Pistols’ notorious final show in San Francisco in 1978. “Oh man, they kinda sucked,” recalls Carlisle.
“We thought we could do that,” notes Wiedlin. “The Hollywood punk scene opened doors for a lot of people who might have struggled to find roles for themselves in music. Girls, gays, people of colour – it was super-inclusive.”
Directed by Alison Ellwood, the documentary demonstrates how this all-American pop phenomenon’s sound and attitude was forged in the UK. “We were obsessed with Britain, cause that’s where all the great music came from,” says Wiedlin. In 1979, the unsigned Go-Go’s supported Madness at LA’s Whisky a Go Go, partied hard (“I woke up next morning in a chaise longue next to the pool,” recalls Carlisle), forged friendships, and wound up travelling to England in 1980 for tours with Madness and The Specials. “We were wildly excited to be there,” recalls Wiedlin. “We had no idea that the ska audience had been taken over by National Front skinheads. That was quite the eye- opener.”
“They were a pretty nasty crowd,” recalls Gina Schock, who talks with the same percussive energy she brings to striking her drum kit. “In the beginning, we’d walk off stage and burst into tears, cos we were getting bottles thrown at us, and boys were spitting all over us. But it didn’t take long before we’d be like, ‘OK, f--- you, we’re ready for whatever you want to throw at us’. By the time we got back to the States, we were a well-oiled machine. We thought if we can get through that, we can get through anything.”
The hardest thing, however, was getting past the male gatekeepers of the music business. Despite drawing enthusiastic crowds, the Go-Go’s were rejected by every major record company. “They’d tell us no one buys records by girl groups,” notes Carlisle. It was another year before they signed to independent label, I.R.S, releasing their debut in July 1981. Over nine months, it crept slowly to number one, going on to sell more than two million copies. “Those years were so fun and exciting,” says Wiedlin. “When you’re young and in a band, you can’t wait to get rich and famous. But you have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for.”
The Go-Go’s initial career was short and not always sweet. They toured incessantly, rushed out records, and fell into all the usual rock vices. “We were in our 20s, it was the Eighties, the debauchery was expanding into a different realm,” notes Valentine. “Things were getting a little down and dirty.” Two members, Carlisle and lead guitarist Charlotte Caffey developed serious drug addictions. There were divisions over royalty splits that created underlying tensions. “I still think it was unfair,” says Carlisle, who earned less than the band’s main songwriters Caffey, Wiedlin and Valentine. “But I didn’t think I had the right to ask for what was fair because I was such a mess, partying way too much. I was on another planet.”
Yet coursing through the documentary is also a great spirit of fun, laughter and friendship. “There was so much boredom hanging around on tour that we became very adept at entertaining ourselves,” laughs Valentine. “We were in London once at the Royal Kensington Hotel, in the bar, drinking, and there was a businessman looking down his nose at our behaviour. So later on, he passed out in his chair and we took Polaroids of us looking like we were having a romp with him. Then we stuck them in the pockets of his jacket, in the hope his wife would find them. We were always playing pranks and getting up to mischief.”
The documentary doesn’t shy away from the Go-Go’s hedonism, although there is little said about sex. “Male groupies weren’t really part of the experience,” according to Valentine. “We’d have flings on the road, mini short-term relationships rather than one-night stands.”
“One time we saw this group of guys that were really cute in the audience, and we thought, ‘oh let’s bring ’em back like guys do,” recalls Carlisle. “So we sent out roadies to find them and we’re like ‘Oh my God, what do we do now?’ And we hid in the dressing room and wouldn’t come out!” She laughs. While Go-Go’s fans revelled in their spirited party-girl image, they found men were often afraid to approach. “The Go-Go’s together is kind of intense, like a five-headed monster. Girls were the ones that were aggressive. There would be women hanging around trying to pull a Go-Go. We were like, ‘Jeez, I wish the guys would be more like that’.”
The Go-Go’s broke up in disarray in 1985, after just three albums. “The material was awful, the chemistry was awful, it just didn’t make sense to carry on,” says Carlisle, who went on to solo success with hits including
Heaven is a Place on Earth and Leave a Light On. There was some bitterness and jealousy, but eventually they
patched up friendships and the Go-Go’s have sporadically reunited since 1990. “There are very complicated dynamics in the band, but we’re never together long enough for things to start becoming a problem, let’s put it like that,” laughs Carlisle.
The documentary unveils the first new Go-Go’s song in 19 years, a buzzing punk pop anthem entitled
Club Zero.
“The logistics of trying to write together are overwhelmingly difficult,” says Wiedlin. “I live in Mexico, Belinda’s in Bangkok, Kathy’s in Austin, Gina’s in San Francisco and Charlotte’s in Los Angeles. So try to figure that out. But when we do get together, nothing’s changed. There is a ton of clowning and time wasting. We always try to crack each other up.”
“The story of this band is a love story too,” says Carlisle.
“I’ve been married for 36 years and I’ve known those girls for 43 years. There’s a deep connection, and not a lot of bulls--- any more, and that’s a really precious thing.” The Go-Go’s is on Showtime at 9pm tonight
‘When it came to partying, we were just doing what any rock band would do’ ‘Perhaps things have changed for women in music, but not as much as people think’