In the darkened bar of a Mayfair hotel, over nothing stronger than water (still), Marc Almond is recalling his arrival in London.
It was only a mile away and 40-odd years ago, and the Soft Cell frontman, freshly down from art college in Leeds, wasn’t yet the make-up-wearing, leather-clad, transgressive Eighties chart sensation he’d become. But it sounds entirely like another place and era.
