1 April 1987 Level 42 construct a tightly-sprung, chattering bedrock of rhythm which satisfies the lower half of the body, and from there they set about exciting the waist up
Wembley ArenaThat
music so seemingly dependent for its success on recording studio intricacy should effortlessly hoist 8,000 respectful young people to their feet in a frenzy of mass dancing greatly confounded my expectations. That I joined in myself shocked me even more. Once a byword for upwardly mobile
London suburban young married taste, the self-effacingly named Level 42 presents an infectiously rounded night out.
Their precision-built records translate to the stage with muscle and wit. Level 42 construct a tightly-sprung, chattering bedrock of rhythm which satisfies the lower half of the body, and from there they set about exciting the waist up.