Throwback Thursday Looks Back at Yaz and Alison Moyet

Yer boy Hank here is sitting in a library in suburban Portland, because the WIFI in my hotel room sucks balls. I'm in Portland to catch 80s-and-beyond chanteuse Alison Moyet on her rare North American set of dates celebrating her career, and also her 2024 release Key. Moyet, as the lead singer of the 80's synth duo Yazzoo (or Yaz on this side of the pond), entranced listeners with her "powerful bluesy contralto" voice. Many of those listeners were young club-going baby gays like myself who recognised through the coded love language of song, words that spoke to our queer joy and heartache. So I'm devoting this Throwback Thursday to my own memories, and a short trip down her musical past.

Formed in 1982 with former Depeche Mode founder Vince Clarke, Yaz exploded into our collective consciousness with the single "Situation" that was both fun and danceable, yet also austere and cold. "Cold" was often a word used to denigrate early synth pop, but it was Moyet's vocals, throaty and deep and soulful, that transfixed us. It elevated and warmed the cool fo Clarke's keyboards, and we were hooked from the first notes that flowed from her throat. And no, we had no idea what the lyrics meant, and we didn't care. We pulsed, we danced, and we felt seen, but we weren't exactly sure why. Hey, welcome to 80s music. They didn't need to say the words "gay" to know it was for us.

As you can see from their video above for their single "Don't Go," they had a dark, camp aesthetic that was weird and wonderful. I'm going to guess it was Clarke's queerness mixed with Moyet's earnestness that propelled their "messages," whatever those might have been. For me, it was "I'm a weirdo; you're welcome to join. We see your weirdness."

Examples of their aching love songs, like the plaintive "Nobody's Diary," were what really chilled us to the bone. This is where we truly felt their queerness, when we stood outside that love circle, looking in. Or refusing to play the victim, though we often felt that way. She spoke of this connection with her gay fans in a 2018 interview with afterellen.com:

Perhaps it is the not hiding my “otherness.” When you are not a member of mainstream society, when you don’t see yourself represented respectfully in the larger world, you gravitate toward those that [don’t] shy away from facing their detractors. Maybe it’s realizing already that external acceptance cannot be counted upon and we don’t need to make our lifestyle choices based on being socially accepted? Maybe it is that gay men don’t have to want to wank over their female singer of choice so it didn’t matter that I was ugly. Who knows? But hurrah for the gays!

And hurrah for you, Ms. Moyet!

Alas, Yaz was criminally short-lived. Clarke and Moyet would only produce two albums that would become, personally, two of the best the 80s had to offer: Upstairs At Eric's and You and Me Both. But before the end of 1983, Clarke would break up the duo, only to go hire a gay man who sounded just like Moyet (Andy Bell) to create Erasure.

Moyet, though, would find her own solid footing as a solo artist, with a string of singles off her ten solo albums, starting with Alf and the song "Love Resurrection." This would be followed by "Invisible" and the torch song "All Played Out."

Hearing from friends who have seen her recent shows in other cities, she's in stellar voice, singing Yaz hits alongside her solo material. Whatever she offers up, we aged baby gays will stand in the crowd, probably not dancing as furiously as we once did, immersed in her lush voice and lush memories.

Got a favorite Moyet or Yaz memory?

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