Matt Goss - More Than You Know

To Tom’s great credit, he had a famous line that he used to apply to us all the time: ‘You can’t make chicken soup out of chicken shit.’ Nonetheless, we did not get publishing credits on those two songs.

That’s one of the key reasons why I soon wanted to get involved in the writing of the songs I sing, because it was all so disappointing when we realized later that even though we’d put so much effort and work into those songs we would not be entitled to any publishing monies. Having said that, I harbour no bitterness whatsoever about that situation, I don’t have the energy to focus on that, it’s just not wise – I will discuss my feelings towards Tom and Mick in more depth later on in my tale.

With the benefit of hindsight, what I will say to anyone going into a studio for the first time is if you are adding anything , then you are entitled to some of the publishing. At such an early stage in your career when you are around more experienced people, it’s a hard conversation to have, but you have to make your point. It also sets a precedent for future work – usually I will not go into a studio as a writer unless there is fifty per cent for me. I do lyric and melody, all the arrangements, some programming, harmonies and so on, elements which are never going to be worth less. If you have three people in a room, then it’s split three equal ways, but I would also say, to go beyond three people writing in a studio . . . it might work in Nashville, but be careful. Whichever line-up you have, get it understood what the splits are; it cuts out the disappointment. Believe me, I know.

By the time we were recording that debut album, the word on the street about Bros was already reaching epic proportions. We were increasingly being asked to do photo shoots and interviews and on some days it was as if everyone knew about us already. We were starting to be mobbed before we’d even had a hit.

We did some PAs to fan the flames, although not exactly hundreds like some young bands do. Nonetheless, something intangible was happening and we were already getting a following. Girls were beginning to go mad when they saw us. That was quite a shock, I can tell you. One of the first times it began to dawn on me that something was happening, was outside my mum’s house in Peckham (this would be the location of some of the most insane moments of Brosmania over the coming years). I came home one afternoon after doing some recording and there was a girl hyperventilating outside Mum’s house. I instinctively thought it was a passer-by in distress, so I ran in and anxiously said, ‘Mum, quick! There’s a girl outside and she’s obviously not well, she’s hyperventilating. Look! Look!’

My mum followed me out of the front door and looked down the street. There was no one there. I was completely bemused. We went back inside, puzzled, but I was not happy, there had definitely been a girl out there in discomfort, so I had to look out of the window to check again. This time there were four girls and they were all hyperventilating. I dragged Mum out to see if we could help. When they saw me, they freaked out and their condition escalated to what can only be described as hysteria.

‘I think that’s because of you, Matty,’ said Mum, a cheeky and proud little smile spreading across her face.

Within what felt like a month of that day, we were being mobbed by hundreds of screaming girls every day without fail.

We hadn’t even released a record yet.

SEVEN

A Righteous Way Of Getting Paid

August 1987 saw the release of our debut single, ‘I Owe You Nothing’. The song was already being played repeatedly in certain cool clubs so hopes were high for the actual chart.

It peaked at Number 74.

It seemed to matter very little. In the post-Millennial pop climate, many labels might have abandoned ship at that point, but fortunately for us – and Sony in the end – our record company was undeterred. Our second single was pencilled in for October.

Even after the disappointing chart placing for our debut single, the fever swelling around Bros seemed to increase. When our follow-up single was issued, ‘When Will I Be Famous?’, everything changed. Normal was a word I would no longer be able to use in my life. We were told we might go in at Number 40.

‘Maybe, Matt.’

‘When Will I Be Famous?’ mid-weeked at 41 so we knew we had a chance. Back then you had to sell thousands of records just to get into ‘the Forty’. To me, Number 40 would have been an incredible achievement; after all, we were a completely new band. I remember lying in my bedroom on a Sunday night with my mate Lloyd – Luke was downstairs – listening to the chart countdown, as we had done for most of our lives. Before, we’d have been listening to see if The Specials or Police had charted and where. Now we were waiting for Bros, it was the most extraordinary feeling of disbelief and anticipation.

‘And at Number 40 . . .’

. . . it wasn’t us.

It was Simply Red with ‘Ev’ry Time You Say Goodbye’.

It was just the most awful feeling.

They played that record and we were barely listening, we were so deflated. Then the DJ said, ‘Number 39, they’ve done it, it’s Bros!’

We all just went nuts, Luke ran in and we were going crazy. All I remember was jumping up and down in a frenzy, swearing in excitement, hugging each other. We were inside the UK Top Forty! It didn’t make sense, it was amazing. We’d charted. It was a quite phenomenal moment.

And it just got better. As Brosmania started to break on the unsuspecting shores of British pop, the single stayed in the Top Forty for nearly four months. Eventually, it reached the giddy heights of Number 2.

In one sense, when ‘Famous’ hit Number 2, we were dumbfounded. By then, however, Brosmania was in full flow (an alternative name, ‘Brosteria’, was less popular). When I try to analyse why the hysteria surrounding Bros was so intense and so sudden, I still can’t put my finger on it. Yes, we were good-looking boys, we’d had a Number 2 single, we had a great album coming out and we were working very, very hard promoting the band. But there were certainly plenty of good bands who were getting far more press than us – at that stage anyway – who were much less fawned upon. When the mania first exploded, we’d only really had one published piece of high-profile press, a brief interview in Smash Hits . People often ask me why it took off like it did and I can truly say I don’t know. Bros had a natural, massive momentum, which is quite rare I think. There was just something magical about what was going on.

There were a couple of watershed moments when you could visibly see the hysteria cranked up a gear. One of those was playing a PA at Busby’s in Tottenham Court Road, but perhaps the biggest single event that seemed to have a massive effect on our popularity and profile was when a gentleman called Michael Metcalf gave us a slot on the TV show The Roxy . We were waiting anxiously to get The Roxy and then finally it came in. That programme and Michael in particular took a gamble when Tyne Tees announced they would be doing a special on us. I remember being at a Sony/CBS conference doing some meet-and-greets when someone took me to one side and said, ‘You have to go now , you’ve got The Roxy !’ We were absolutely mobbed just trying to walk into the TV studios and looking back at the video footage, you can see we are beaming. It was a pivotal moment and we knew it. Yet even that hysteria was nothing compared to the frenzy that erupted after our performance of three songs was broadcast, along with some interviews. After The Roxy , there was no stopping it.

To this day one of the cameramen from The Roxy tells the story that when he thinks of that show, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He was stunned by the hysteria and likened it to the mass adoration he had also witnessed when he filmed The Beatles back in the Sixties. He wasn’t comparing us to The Beatles – of course not – but he said that our fans’ behaviour was identically, inexplicably insane. It wasn’t just the fans screaming at the limo or at the stage door. Within what seemed like a few weeks, we began to notice blatant manifestations of our popularity. It was a steep learning curve for us and it never plateaued.