Holly Johnson on orgasmic pop and his second coming: ‘It’s a miracle of modern science I’m still here’
It's a well-known fact that four of the top 10 best-selling singles in British history were created and sung by gay men. These include George Michael, who ranks ninth with Wham’s "Last Christmas," Freddie Mercury at number three with Queen’s "Bohemian Rhapsody," and Elton John, who holds the top spot with "Candle in the Wind." The fourth artist is Holly Johnson, the bold frontman of Frankie Goes to Hollywood, whose energetic hit "Relax" has sold over two million copies and remains the sixth best-selling single in the UK to this day.
"I feel really honored to be here with such prominent people," Johnson shares, his Liverpool accent still strong even after many years in the south. He's sitting in a fancy pub's function room close to his home in west London, dressed in all black, sporting a sleek white hairstyle and chunky clear glasses from the fashion label Jacquemus. "I used to see Freddie at clubs, but I was always too shy to talk to him. Elton John once invited me out to dinner with George Michael, but we didn't really connect. They were such huge stars – I always felt like I didn't belong in their circle."
During much of 1984, Johnson might have overshadowed everyone else. Four decades before the Brat Pack era, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, a band from Liverpool made up of three straight men known as "the Lads" and two flamboyantly gay lead singers (including the mustachioed dancer and backup vocalist Paul Rutherford), sparked a mix of excitement and shock throughout Britain and beyond. At that time, the few openly gay pop stars tended to downplay their sexuality (with Boy George famously telling chat show host Russell Harty that he preferred tea over sex), but Frankie took a completely different approach. They embraced a bold aesthetic and attitude drawn from the leather bars and bathhouses of the gay scene, presenting a sexually charged image that was both intimidating and exhilarating.
“Tom of Finland had a significant impact,” Johnson explains, mentioning the artist known for his illustrations of joyful bikers and sailors in passionate encounters. “We grew up hearing about the ‘twilight world of homosexuality,’ where it was believed everyone was supposed to feel isolated and unhappy. However, he portrayed gay men in a completely different way – as joyful, content, and enjoying life.”
Frankie’s music perfectly embodied a hedonistic spirit, exemplified by the song "Relax," which featured lyrics about postponing climax, all accentuated by Johnson's passionate growls and exclamations of "Huh!" Producer Trevor Horn transformed their original punk-funk anthem into a massive dance hit, combining the intensity of rock music with cinematic sound effects reminiscent of a George Lucas film, complete with playful squirting and splashing sounds. After a memorable appearance on Top of the Pops in January 1984, where Johnson sported a yellow bandana tucked into his leather pants—symbolically referencing a less conventional sexual practice within the San Francisco gay scene, not typically discussed at 7 pm on the BBC—the song quickly climbed into the Top 10. However, it faced backlash when Radio 1 DJ Mike Read labeled it obscene. As a result, the BBC banned the track, but it still soared to the No. 1 spot for five weeks straight.
The phenomenon known as Frankiemania took off: Relax, the band's powerful follow-up track, tackled the pressing issue of nuclear destruction and dominated the charts for nine consecutive weeks at No. 1. Meanwhile, Relax surged back up the charts during the summer, reaching No. 2. The band’s T-shirts, featuring catchy phrases like “Frankie Say Arm the Unemployed” and “Frankie Say War! Hide Yourself,” became a nationwide trend, with 250,000 official shirts sold by year’s end, alongside an estimated 500,000 bootleg versions.
Frankie wrapped up their incredible year with their third and final number one hit, "The Power of Love," which topped the charts for a week before being replaced by Band Aid's "Do They Know It’s Christmas?". Over time, this song has become a holiday favorite and recently featured prominently in Andrew Haigh’s film, "All of Us Strangers." The movie explores a gay man's struggle with childhood loss and the pervasive homophobia of the 1980s. “I cried so much while watching that film,” Johnson reflects. “I was also taken aback to see my younger self being viewed by the main character.” In the film, we see Adam, a troubled screenwriter played by Andrew Scott, late at night as he watches an old "Top of the Pops" performance of "The Power of Love," when the younger version of Harry, portrayed by Paul Mescal, unexpectedly arrives at his door.
Johnson's appearance in the film represents a hope for emotional satisfaction, highlighting the experience of being gay and loved. There's little doubt that his bold embrace of his queerness inspired many, especially during a time when the LGBTQ+ community faced significant challenges, including a lack of marriage and adoption rights, no workplace protection against discrimination, and an age of consent for same-sex relationships set at 21—five years older than for straight relationships. “I still receive messages that say: ‘I grew up in a small town, and you were a major source of validation for my uniqueness and my sexuality,’” he shares.
Many enthusiastic fans, along with others, will gather at an exhibition dedicated to Johnson's life, which opens this weekend at the Museum of Liverpool. Are any of his old rubber outfits on display? "There is some fetish attire, but nothing I've actually worn, since rubber falls apart and leather underwear tends to get misplaced," Johnson, 64, explains. The exhibition features his artwork from the late 80s and 90s, which he has always created alongside his music; his Vivienne Westwood suit from the music video for his 1989 solo hit "Love Train"; and a jacket made for him by the late performance artist Leigh Bowery for a charity event supporting the Terrence Higgins Trust. "He showed up at my house with a bizarre old-lady wig and was wearing stiletto heels inside large boots, so he looked extremely tall," Johnson recalls.
These unconventional characters opened William Johnson's eyes to a broader world beyond his restrictive upbringing. He reflects, “The entire 70s bohemian scene, with its fluid approach to sexuality—like The Rocky Horror Show and Quentin Crisp's The Naked Civil Servant—hinted at a lifestyle that was worlds apart from being a working-class kid in Liverpool.” He became deeply influenced by David Bowie and drew inspiration from Andy Warhol’s circle of gay and transgender icons, even taking his first name from Holly Woodlawn, a figure immortalized by Lou Reed in the song “Walk on the Wild Side.” Johnson eventually met Woodlawn years later, and she was delighted that he had taken her name. “She was amazing! It was such a pleasure to meet her after watching her in Trash alongside Joe Dallesandro when I was just 14.”
Johnson's exploration of his own identity—whether it was shaving his eyebrows or delving into the works of Jean Genet—often put him at odds with his parents, a taxi driver and a nurse, who sometimes felt so ashamed of his look that they tried to keep him from leaving home. In his 1994 autobiography, A Bone in My Flute, the singer recounts an incident where his father, who had enlisted in the navy at 14, lost his temper when young Holly asked for a Babycham while being offered a drink one Christmas. “'No son of mine is going to drink that Babycham!'” Johnson chuckles. “My dad considered me a weirdo. He had never met any kids who dyed their hair and wore makeup to school.”
Johnson and his friend, known as Honey Heath, found themselves shunned by their peers. "He was tall, had blond hair, and had a style reminiscent of Bowie, which made him really noticeable," the singer recalls. "We were subjected to constant harassment and taunting every day at school. The bullying was both physical and verbal. As a result, we often skipped school. We spent our time at St John’s Precinct, where we first encountered Jayne Casey and Pete Burns, who were working at a hair salon called A Cut Above the Rest."
Burns, known for his strikingly androgynous appearance, used to frighten the people of Liverpool with his sharp sense of humor and dark contact lenses. He eventually gained fame as the lead singer of Dead or Alive. Casey was well-known in the area for sporting a shaved head and later joined Pink Industry, becoming a prominent figure in Liverpool’s art community. “We found it amazing that there were other unique individuals out there making a living – even if it was in a unisex hair salon.”
This bold form of self-expression flourished when punk arrived in Liverpool. In 1976, Casey introduced Johnson, who had been composing songs since he was 13, to Eric’s nightclub, a hub for the city's alternative music. Together, they created a band named Big in Japan alongside Budgie, Bill Drummond, and Ian Broudie, all of whom would later achieve significant success with groups like Siouxsie and the Banshees, the KLF, and the Lightning Seeds.
However, Big in Japan didn’t achieve much recognition outside of Eric’s club, and even Frankie Goes to Hollywood faced challenges after forming in 1980. “We had completed two sessions for John Peel and were playing gigs across the north-west, but it seemed like no record label would sign us, even after our appearance on The Tube.” They performed their song "Relax" on the Channel 4 music program, accompanied by two scantily clad female backup dancers known as the Leatherpettes. “We were on the verge of disbanding. I even applied to art college and was accepted. I was set to start in September 1983, but then 'Relax' was released in October.”
Frankie joined Horn's label ZTT, which turned out to be a smart artistic move but a disastrous financial one. "Our contract was unbelievably unfavorable," Johnson recalls. They received only an 8% royalty rate from album sales in the UK, which was roughly half of what other bands in similar situations earned. ZTT kept control over their producer, studio selection, and recording expenses. They also gave up their publishing rights to a company owned by Horn, and anyone who left the band still had to remain bound to the label. Nonetheless, Johnson explains, "We were struggling financially—I had been on social security for about seven years. I had to choose between taking a local education authority grant for art school or pursuing the passion I had since I was a teenager. Signing a bad contract didn’t matter to me—I just wanted to create amazing music."
However, the band wasn’t the only one aware of how much they had been taken advantage of. “When we looked at the royalty statements and realized we’d been completely deceived,” it became clear to everyone, including their fellow pop artists. Johnson recalls, “Bronski Beat ridiculed us for taking that deal because they had been offered the same one but chose different paths.” He continues, “Even when Neil Tennant interviewed me for Smash Hits” – just before he embarked on his journey as a Pet Shop Boy – “he had a condescending attitude about my poor contract. But honestly, it didn’t bother me at all. In my opinion, I produced better music than all of them, music that has endured over time in a way theirs simply hasn’t.”
ZTT had little hesitation in betraying Frankie, he notes. “They looked at us as just a bunch of locals from Liverpool whom they had transformed into this massive success.” Johnson ultimately had to take ZTT to court to be able to sign with a different record label and kickstart his solo career. After an extremely costly two-year legal struggle, ZTT was defeated, with the judge declaring that their agreement “was not an equitable arrangement.” Horn has since voiced his regrets, but that doesn’t mean much to Johnson. “His initials are TCH, and to me, they will always stand for That Cunt Horn.”
Johnson found satisfaction in his debut solo album, Blast, reaching the number one spot, and in the success of his singles "Love Train" and "Americanos," which both landed in the top five. However, his next album didn’t perform well, and Johnson soon found himself unable to address the situation. In October 1991, after experiencing skin issues and a fungal infection on his toenails, he received a diagnosis that would change his life.
"I had enough symptoms for my condition to be diagnosed as AIDS instead of just being HIV-positive," he explains. "This involved specific criteria, like having a significantly low CD4 blood count, which are the white blood cells that fight infections. Additionally, I had an AIDS-related illness, which in my case was Kaposi's sarcoma—a type of cancer affecting the blood vessels in the skin. The media often showed images of extremely thin men with disfigured purple spots, and that contributed to the widespread fear surrounding HIV."
Johnson observed the appearance of Kaposi's lesions on his arms, chest, and face, which were addressed through radiotherapy. At just 31 years old, he received a prognosis indicating he had anywhere from two months to two years to live. “Several close friends and roommates passed away around the time of my diagnosis, and I truly believed I would be the next one.”
In the spring of 1993, he courageously chose to share his health struggles with the public through an interview with the Times. Unfortunately, it became quite chaotic when Piers Morgan, who was then working as the editor for the entertainment section of another Murdoch publication, the Sun, lifted parts of the interview from the Times’ database and published them in a sensational manner just a few days before the scheduled release. This led to his parents being caught off guard by reporters, which was very distressing for them. Johnson was painfully aware that many people at the time saw AIDS as a consequence of the kind of indulgent lifestyle he had led. "It felt like being ostracized," he recalls. For many years, very few people reached out to him, except for a couple of friends like Radio 1 DJ Janice Long and Kirsty MacColl, who even featured one of his paintings on the cover of her single "Angel."
There was one memorable instance that stood out. "I received a phone call from David Bowie, and it felt like I was getting a call from a deity. We ended up talking for more than an hour on a Saturday evening. We discussed various art movements, including the Vorticists and Keith Vaughan. During the conversation, he mentioned that he had a tour coming up and asked me for song suggestions. So, I just listed off a bunch of my favorite songs.”
Johnson faced challenges not only due to his illness but also because of the treatments he underwent. “I would take experimental medications eagerly, and one of those ended up giving me pancreatitis for five years, which is extremely painful.” Despite these struggles, he grew closer to his father. “We connected over our health issues – he dealt with angina and gout. I remember when he called me after hearing about combination therapy on the news and said, ‘I was relieved to learn there’s hope for you.’ So, we were able to reconcile our relationship.” Johnson’s father passed away in 2001, and his mother is now 89; he continues to visit her regularly in Liverpool.
Combination therapies have transformed AIDS from a life-threatening illness into a condition that can be managed, saving Johnson’s life and the lives of many others. He reflects, “Thanks to modern science's wonders, I’m still alive and able to work.” Next June, he will celebrate the 40th anniversary of Frankie’s first album, *Welcome to the Pleasuredome*, with a six-show tour that includes iconic venues like the Royal Albert Hall in London and the Liverpool Arena. “I understand that fans come to hear the hits,” he shares. “My worth as a performer lies in the music. The songs somehow offer me a shield, which is why I get to headline festivals—I owe it to the music and my talent for performing it.”
Will Frankie Goes to Hollywood ever get back together? Last year marked their first performance as a group since 1987, coinciding with Liverpool's hosting of the Eurovision Song Contest. They only played one song, "Welcome to the Pleasuredome," as required by the event organizers. “I can’t believe we actually pulled it off,” Johnson reflects. “In the two weeks leading up to the show, there was an overwhelming amount of communication. However, once we arrived and completed our performance, it all went smoothly. I enjoyed a drink with the band afterward at the Bridewell, which used to be our rehearsal space and is now a bar. It was nice to reconnect, and nice to say goodbye.” So, don’t expect a reunion like Oasis (to which Johnson, for the record, says: “I really don’t care”). “I get a lot of fans asking if we'll reunite on social media, but I’ve stopped responding – it just feels so unlikely.”
