The Lexicon Lives On: Martin Fry Reflects on ABC’s Past, Present and Future
Legendary British pop icons ABC, fronted by the inimitable Martin Fry, will return to Australian shores in March 2027 for a six-date national tour, performing songs from their landmark album The Lexicon of Love alongside a set of greatest hits spanning their four-decade career. It will be ABC’s first full Australian tour in over a decade. For Australian fans who have waited years to hear The Look of Love, Poison Arrow and All of My Heart performed live, 2027 marks a long-awaited return.
Fronted throughout its history by the singular Martin Fry — instantly recognisable in his gold lamé suit — ABC emerged from Sheffield in 1980 as one of the defining groups of the new pop era. Their 1982 debut album, The Lexicon of Love, shot straight to number one on the UK charts and remains regarded as one of the finest British pop albums ever made. Produced by Trevor Horn, it delivered the enduring hits Tears Are Not Enough, Poison Arrow, The Look of Love and All of My Heart. In Australia, replicated their UK success. The Lexicon of Love reached #9 on the national album charts of the time (the Kent Music Report), whilst Poison Arrow was top 5 hit single and The Look Of Love reached number 7.
ABC followed this with the harder-edged Beauty Stab (1983, featuring That Was Then But This Is Now and S.O.S.), the electronic-driven How to Be a… Zillionaire! (1985, home to US dance chart-toppers Be Near Me and Vanity Kills), and 1987’s Alphabet City, which produced the worldwide smash When Smokey Sings. In 2016, Fry released The Lexicon of Love II, a sequel to the band’s classic debut, co-written with Academy Award-winning composer Anne Dudley and debuting at number five on the UK album charts. ABC marked the fortieth anniversary of The Lexicon of Love in 2022 with a sold-out UK orchestral tour, followed by a Sky Arts television special filmed at the London Palladium. In 2024 the band sold out a 21-date UK orchestra tour to over 35,000 fans and joined Howard Jones for two US tours. Martin Fry talks to Rob Lyon about their long awaited return to Australia.
Great to be talking to an absolute legend like yourself, you must be looking forward to getting back to Australia for your first tour in over a decade?
Yeah, I don’t think we’ve ever played Australia properly, you know what I mean? We came and played a few bars last time around, about eight years ago. We were going to play a festival but it got cancelled, so we ended up putting something together very quickly. This time around it’s ABC in full glory.
Does it take a lot of work to get all the planets to align with organising tours now?
I don’t know. I like the days when we used to get in a van and drive down the M1 to London and try and get some shows, that was great back in the early 80s. Music’s got more… yeah. No, not really. It’s just time now to come and play. But I do notice Madness are coming through in February, Level 42, James, quite a few from the UK travelling through.
They’re all coming!
Okay, so we’re going to turn it up to eleven to blow those guys offstage. We’re going to have to do that. I was up in Stirling on Sunday playing a show for BBC Radio 2, they were on that gig. They put a good show together, Mark King and co, as do Madness. But yeah, the chance to come and play Poison Arrow, The Look of Love, When Smokey Sings, All of My Heart… it’s time to do it. We should have played Australia many years ago. I don’t know why we’ve never got around to it. Tony Hadley plays Australia a lot and said, “Martin, it’s time you did it.”
What is it about Australia that you love?
Sense of humour. My sense of humour aligns with yours, mate. Sometimes I start rabbiting away around the world and nobody knows what I’m talking about. In Australia, people respect a live band. People seem to really enjoy coming to shows and seeing a band in sync, in harmony, playing together. I started many years ago back in the early 80s, but I feel I’ve served my apprenticeship now. The band has blossomed, the shows have developed, and it feels really good to be on stage. It’s a great privilege to stand in the spotlight.
You don’t want people saying “they were great back in 1987.”
Exactly. I’ve seen bands like that myself. No, I want that moment at the end of a show, we’re hitting The Look of Love, everybody’s hands in the air, people have forgotten about the second mortgage or the third divorce. They’re happy, smiling, having a wonderful time. That’s a magical feeling. Money can’t buy that. That’s why ABC will be there and if I know James, Madness and Level 42 have been in town recently, we’re going to have to pull out all the stops.
There’s a whole string of UK acts coming through from February right up until ABC arrive. You are heading down at the right time of year right in the peak of summer here.
We love you, but we love the climate, yeah. They’re all snowbirds now. They’re all older, they’re looking for the heat. England in winter’s a very miserable place, so yeah, I guess that’s it.
The big focus of this tour is The Lexicon of Love. What is it about that album that keeps resonating with fans — and finding younger fans too?
Yeah, I mean, The Lexicon of Love was our first album, and we play an orchestral version of it sometimes in the UK. As the years roll by, people seem to come back to that work and say they really enjoy it. The show’s called Lexicon Live, so it’s a combination of playing that album and a bunch of other stuff as well. We just played a big show recently, Tears Are Not Enough, All of My Heart, The Look of Love, Poison Arrow, it just works on stage. I don’t know why, after all these years. At the time, we were trying to rebel against the 70s in Sheffield, make music coming out of punk rock that was very romantic. Influenced by Bowie, Roxy Music, Motown, Soul, Philly, Atlantic, Stax, a combination. But you know what? I’ve been trying to answer that question, why people like Lexicon for forty years. I’m the last person you should ask. As soon as you’re successful with something, it becomes public property.
Hearing thousands of voices singing those songs back must be humbling?
It’s a joy. When I hear thousands of voices singing a song back at me in 2026, it’s a magical feeling, a song I wrote. I’ve had the platinum records, the pop stardom way back in time, but today I really enjoy the pleasure of playing great shows. I think a lot of artists do, I’m sure that’s what runs through Mick Jagger’s mind when he gets out on the road, and I’m sure that’s why Bob Dylan is still out on the road. There’s something magical about singing your songs.
Although in my opinion Bob Dylan can be underwhelming live…
I’ve never seen him play. I love the work, the canon of songs, but I noticed his set looks a bit undercooked, sitting at a piano with a couple of guys behind him.
There’s no interaction with the crowd, you get “thanks for coming” and that’s it.
Well, nobody will be saying that when they leave the ABC concert. I won’t be saying, “Thanks very much, where’s my cheque?”
Seeing how much these songs mean to people must be overwhelming.
Absolutely. But you have to crank it up. I’ve never been somebody that’s felt, “I’ve suffered for my art, now it’s your turn, here’s twenty six B‑sides from 1987.” Our job is to get on stage and hit it. I love bands that do that. I’ve been watching The Hives, I love The Hives. There’s something physical about a band on stage. It doesn’t matter how old they are or what they look like, that magic, that chemistry takes place. I think I’ve been seeking that feeling all my life. That’s why I started seeing bands when I was a kid, hitchhiking at thirteen to watch The Jam or the Sex Pistols in London. It’s primal and it’s so nice to be part of that, having music to play in 2027.
The Hives are incredible, even coming through the airport in full matching outfits.
Really? I kind of grew up with the Jackson Five and the Osmonds, they were families, obviously, but bands that are regimented. There’s something magical about that too. They’re limit, aren’t they?
When you have a hit record like you did, does the pressure come to replicate it?
No, I’m fortunate that Lexicon was the first album, but we’ve had a lot of hits afterwards and we’ll play some of those. The wonderful thing about making your first record is you’ve no idea what to expect, you’re wild, like wild animals. You’ve never made a record before. We could roam free. Trevor Horn was involved, Gary Langan engineering, we were on fire. After forty years, I don’t know if you get absorbed by the music industry, it’s a very corporate place, and I like to avoid that vibe. Whenever you make another record, you’ve got to become stupid and innocent again, equipped as you were when you made your first record. You have to reinvent yourself and start again. I don’t like musicians plotting their next move like accountants. There’s still an opportunity to have a wayward spirit and be successful on your own terms.
Do you think there’s another creative journey ahead for ABC, maybe an EP or even another album?
Yeah, yeah, probably make another record, another album as I call them, another record. Very much so. It’s kind of really nice to pepper your set with some new songs sometimes. But I realise if you’re going to play to a large audience, that’s a pretty wide demographic. Some people have a lot of ABC in their record collection, some people have never heard of us. When you get on stage, you have to provide a show that works for everybody.
As an elder statesman of pop, does making a new record feel different now?
Yeah, it’s nice, but I’m doing it on my own terms. Back in the 80s, for my generation, it was like playing professional football you had to score goals. You’d get to number three in the charts and think it wasn’t really a success because someone was at number two and number one. That was crazy. These days there isn’t that pressure. People are listening to Olivia Rodrigo or Harry Styles, a whole new generation comes through. It feels good to get out with your catalogue of songs and play them, but it would be good to take a catalogue of new songs and record them.
Do you ever worry about making something that feels like a vanity project?
I never really want to do a vanity project. Artists come along and do a record and you think they’ve done it for their own personal ego. It is nice to connect with the audience and do something that works for them. It’s hard to describe.
Have you been writing new songs?
Yeah, I’ve been writing some new songs. I’ve just been in the studio with Martin Ware from Heaven 17, who used to be in the Human League. He’s doing an album called BEF, like an electro‑funk album, so it was great to get back in the studio and write and record two songs with him. It’s nice to keep your hand in. It’s not all airports and air miles.
When you listen to the newer generation, do you ever think, “There’s a bit of ABC in there”?
It’s funny, for a long time there was a whole new generation interested in the era I started in. I used to look out into the audience and see younger and older members, and I used to think mum and dad had dragged their teenage kid along reluctantly. But then I realised there is a generation interested in what we’re doing, maybe from streaming, Spotify, movie soundtracks, I don’t know. There’s a generation interested in the flamboyance of the era I started in, The Cure, Depeche Mode, New Order, Dexys Midnight Runners, Human League, ABC. It was a different way of making music back then, much more experimental. A new generation enjoys checking out those crazy camp videos we made. The age of MTV’s gone, so people check out bands from that era just like I checked out Velvet Underground, Iggy Pop, Bob Dylan.
When you look back at that era, what moments still make you smile?
Perfect, perfect. I remember walking down the street, I love Kevin Rowland from Dexys, but he’d been slagging me off in the NME. I was walking through Holland Park in London and there he was. So it was great to go up to Kevin and say, “Hello, it’s Martin from ABC, should we go for a cup of coffee?” And we became friends. Chance meetings.I met a lot of people in the park actually. I wasn’t stalking the park, I just did a lot of walking. Years later, after COVID, we played a show in Liverpool, the first time people were getting back together again. We drove over the hill and I could hear Blue Monday. Peter Hook & The Light were playing it. I stopped the car and had tears in my eyes. It was wonderful to see a crowd again after that period. Back in the day it was so competitive, everybody chasing number one. I kind of like it now because there’s a great deal of respect for any artist that’s survived through the years. Madness, Level 42, James, all those bands out on the road.
Any other moments that stand out?
You’ll have to ask me that in ten minutes, a lot of incredible things happened. But I do love today when I see an audience at Rewind Festival. People come in outfits based on Madonna in Desperately Seeking Susan, but also fluorescent, adding a bit of Zoom and the Acid House era. They’re condensing all of the 80s into one thing. Our Acid House was great, the raves, the Hacienda, Zoom, Spectrum, all those great clubs. A lot happened in the 1980s. It went from monophonic synths to polyphonic synths overnight, radical. You’d buy a new bit of equipment on Tuesday and by Thursday it had been superseded. It was a magical time.
If you were going to give any advice to your younger self, what would it be?
Just enjoy the moment, yeah. It doesn’t matter who’s number two in the charts when you’re number three in the charts, you know what I mean? That fierce competitive edge isn’t always a healthy thing, and that sort of self‑importance when you’re a fledgling pop star. But I’d say to anyone out there, if they’re in a garage just getting their tunes together, go for it. The air miles are good. Life is good. You’ve got to go for it. The sixteen‑year‑old me, I would say: just go for it and the more original stuff you can do, the better. You don’t need to chase anything else, just be yourself.
Does it frustrate you when you look at where the music industry is now, all about streaming, compared to the charts, vinyl, CD singles, physical releases?
My son and daughter sat me down and explained it all to me. They know more about the modern world than I do. It was a monoculture back then, if I got on Radio 1, John Peel, everybody heard it. Or if I got on Top of the Pops in the UK, everybody saw it. Sometimes they’d broadcast that in other countries. These days everything’s splintered. With streaming, you can find an audience in Korea, Barbados, Wales, Scotland suddenly online. But it’s a different kind of world, and it’s very hard for bands or musicians coming through now to grab attention. It’s really hard to grab the attention.
But on the other hand, things are in a really healthy place. I can only talk from my own experiences, but this last summer, and in fact these last ten years, we’ve played shows and they’ve been sold‑out shows all the time. People have a real hunger to come to concerts and watch bands play their music. I’ve no problem with that. The live circuit has improved massively. The record companies were sluggish, they had no idea what was happening. They sold all those rights to Spotify, I suppose. So I like to think musicians have battled their way through to find an audience.
When you come back to Australia, is there an Australian experience or somewhere you like to go that you’re looking forward to checking out?
I’m going to the beach. Life’s a beach. I’m hitting the beach, yeah. I spent a lot of time in Barbados on the beach, so I’m going to do the same in Australia, can’t wait. You’ve got plenty of them. I really want to connect with the audience, I want them to have a great time. That’s the challenge. I’m going to see if we can pull that one off.
Interview By Rob Lyon
Catch ABC featuring Martin Fry on the following dates, tickets from Destroy All Lines…
