Let's hear it for the boys
We should take better care of pop stars’ mental health, says Blue co-creator Daniel Glatman
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In the 1990s and 2000s, girl bands and boy bands were massive. After the success of Take That and East 17, every record company wanted to sign the next big teen band. I was aged 24 and, inspired by Simon Fuller, who managed the Spice Girls, my dream was to be the next pop Svengali. I blagged a meeting with Hugh Goldsmith, the boss of Virgin Records’ Innocent label, and we got on. Despite my youth and lack of experience, I left his office with ten grand and a guaranteed record deal to build a pop group. Through contacts and auditions, I found my four boys, who became Blue, and it all just worked.
Daniel Glatman was manager of boyband Blue for a number of years. PR
A lot of boy bands were styled in ways that annoyed them, like Westlife in their polo necks or Take That rolling around in jelly in their infamous Do What You Like video. We had Simon Webbe shave off his afro. You say to your boys, “Just come with us and trust the process.” Once they take off, they can style themselves how they like.
Their lives change overnight. Five minutes ago, Brian McFadden from Westlife was working in McDonald’s and Blue’s Duncan James was selling perfume. But we gave them the head’s-up. They knew the reality of it: they weren’t NHS nurses dealing with drunks on a Saturday night.
Some figures, including Brian Harvey from East 17 and Robbie Williams from Take That, had breakdowns and blamed it on the industry. I’d argue they weren’t managed properly. It’s the same in any field – look at Mike Tyson or Gazza. People treated them as cash machines and they imploded. That’s what happens when you don’t care for your artists emotionally.
If I knew then what I know now, I'd employ a 24/7 therapist
Blue were talented. Lee Ryan had the best voice of his generation of recording artists, but he was unmanageable. I spent five years trying to explain to him that the media wasn’t a conspiracy. If you collaborate with them, they’ll make you famous and that’s the trade-off, but he never wanted to accept that. And we were peddling Duncan as this international sex symbol while secretly he knew he was gay. The record company wanted me to protect their golden goose so it was stressful for everyone. By the end, we were all burnt out.
If I was managing a young band today, I would be all over their mental health. Back then, we had a fitness instructor who travelled with us, but it was a waste of money because the boys wouldn’t do it. We called him “water boy” because all he ended up doing was taking water onto the stage. If I knew then what I know now, I’d have replaced him with a 24/7 therapist. Twenty years ago, nobody did that. Now it’s clearly something record companies need to invest in.
One Direction’s Liam Payne died in October. Getty
Without knowing the full story of what Liam Payne from One Direction was going through at the time of his death, what we do know is that if anything bad happens to you when you’re as famous as he was, it’s massively amplified. And it’s a tragic end to a young life.
The pressure is immense for these young stars. They work crazy hours, they’re jetlagged, they miss their family and they can’t walk down the street any more.
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But the bottom line is, they live their dream. If you said to them at the start, “You’ll lose your grip on reality, but on the flip side you’ll be treated like royalty, you’ll have lots of fun and you’ll make more money than most people make in a lifetime,” I promise you most of them would still say, “Where do I sign?”
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