It happened in a flash. One minute, Nick Heyward and his bandmates were just some stylish kids from Beckenham with questionable knitwear and great hair, and the next, they were the absolute faces of British pop. If you weren’t there in 1982, it’s hard to describe the sheer, caffeinated energy of haircut one hundred songs hitting the airwaves. They weren't just "another 80s band." They were a burst of optimism in a UK landscape that was otherwise feeling pretty grey.
Most people remember the chunky sweaters and the satchels. But if you actually listen—really listen—to the arrangements, you realize these guys were basically jazz musicians masquerading as teen idols. It’s funky. It’s complex. It’s got these weird, stabbing brass sections that shouldn’t work in a pop song but totally do.
Honestly, the tragedy is that the "classic" lineup only lasted for one album. Just one. Pelican West is a masterpiece of pop brevity, and then, poof. Nick Heyward was out, the band tried to soldier on, and the magic sort of evaporated into the damp London air. But those tracks? They haven’t aged a day.
The Secret Sauce of the Pelican West Sound
When people talk about haircut one hundred songs, they usually start with "Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl)." It was their debut single and it basically laid out the blueprint. You've got that percussive, Nile Rodgers-style guitar scratching, a bassline that sounds like it’s running a marathon, and Nick’s breathless, almost stream-of-consciousness vocals.
It’s frantic.
But it’s tight.
Graham Jones (guitar), Les Nemes (bass), and Blair Cunningham (drums) were a rhythm section that most post-punk bands would have killed for. They weren't just playing chords; they were interlocking like a Swiss watch. If you go back and listen to "Love Plus One," which is arguably their biggest hit, the percussion is doing some really heavy lifting. There’s a conga track in there that gives the whole thing this tropical, "Bermuda shorts in a rainstorm" vibe.
Why "Love Plus One" Isn't Actually About Anything
Nick Heyward has been pretty open about the fact that his lyrics were often just phonetics that sounded good. He liked the way words sat in his mouth. "Love Plus One" is a perfect example. What does "Ring-a-ding-ding" actually mean in the context of a relationship? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But it fits the rhythmic pocket so perfectly that your brain doesn't care about the lack of a narrative.
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That was the genius of the band. They prioritized feel over meaning. In an era where bands like The Smiths were starting to make everyone feel very, very sad and introspective, Haircut One Hundred was there to remind everyone that pop music could just be a physical reaction. It was "happy" music, but with a weirdly sophisticated skeletal structure.
The Deep Cuts You’re Probably Skipping
Everyone knows the hits. They’re on every "Best of the 80s" compilation ever pressed. But the real meat of the haircut one hundred songs catalog is buried a bit deeper on side B of the vinyl.
Take "Snow Girl."
It’s got this melancholic undercurrent that the singles lack. It’s slower, more atmospheric, and shows that they could do more than just high-energy funk. Then there’s "Marine Boy," which feels like a fever dream about the ocean. It’s lush. It’s strange. It’s got these soaring backing vocals that make it feel much bigger than a standard pop tune.
And then there's "Fantastic Day." If you want to talk about the quintessential summer anthem, this is it. It’s the sound of a Saturday afternoon when you’re seventeen and nothing has gone wrong yet. The brass hits are iconic. It's the kind of song that makes you want to buy a bicycle with a basket and ride through a park in slow motion.
- The Funk Influence: You can hear the DNA of Chic and Heatwave in their guitar work.
- The Fashion: They accidentally invented the "Preppy Explorer" look.
- The Breakup: Stress and exhaustion blew the band apart just as they were becoming superstars.
What Happened After Nick Left?
This is where things get a bit messy. 1983 was a rough year for the band. Nick Heyward suffered a well-documented breakdown from the pressure of fame and the grueling schedule. He went solo, releasing North of a Miracle, which is a brilliant album produced by Geoff Emerick (the guy who engineered for The Beatles).
Meanwhile, the rest of the band stayed together. They recruited Marc Fox to take over lead vocals and released Paint and Paint in 1984.
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Look, let’s be real: it wasn't the same.
The songs on Paint and Paint aren't bad. "Prime Time" is actually a pretty solid bit of mid-80s synth-pop. But the "it" factor was gone. The chemistry between Nick's frantic energy and the band's tight funk was the lightning in the bottle. Without Nick, they sounded like a very talented session band. With Nick, they sounded like the future.
Why We Are Still Talking About These Songs in 2026
It’s the nostalgia, sure, but it’s also the craft. We live in an era of Quantized, perfectly gridded-out music. Haircut one hundred songs feel alive because they were recorded by humans in a room playing together. You can hear the slight pushes and pulls in the tempo.
Modern indie bands like Vampire Weekend or even some of the 1975's funkier moments owe a massive debt to Haircut One Hundred. They proved that you could be "musician-ly" and "pop-y" at the same time. You could have a saxophone solo that didn't feel cheesy. You could wear a Fisherman’s sweater and still be cool.
Kinda.
Mostly.
The influence is everywhere if you look for it. It's in the way modern producers use bright, clean guitar tones and the way pop stars are moving back toward "real" instruments.
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The 2010s and 2020s Reunions
The cool thing is that the original lineup eventually made peace. They played some shows in the early 2010s and then really got back into the swing of things recently. Seeing them play "Favourite Shirts" in their 60s is actually pretty inspiring. The hair might be thinner (well, not Nick’s, his hair is still suspiciously great), but the chops are still there. They can still play those intricate interlocking parts, and they still sound like they’re having the time of their lives.
How to Properly Listen to Haircut One Hundred
If you’re new to them, don’t just shuffle a random playlist. You have to experience Pelican West as a cohesive unit. Start with "Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl)" to get the blood pumping. Then move into "Love Plus One."
By the time you get to "Lemon Firebells," you'll start to see the complexity. Notice the bass. Les Nemes is an underrated hero of the four-string. He’s playing lead lines under the vocals half the time.
Then, after you’ve exhausted the first album, go find Nick Heyward’s first solo record. It’s the spiritual successor. It has the same DNA but with a bigger, more orchestral production. It rounds out the story of what those haircut one hundred songs were trying to achieve before the wheels fell off.
Essential Listening Path:
- Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl) - The high-energy entry point.
- Love Plus One - The "I know this song" moment.
- Fantastic Day - The dopamine hit.
- Snow Girl - The proof they had range.
- Whistle Down the Wind (Nick Heyward solo) - The logical conclusion of the sound.
There’s a common misconception that they were a "manufactured" boy band. They weren't. They were art school kids who liked jazz, funk, and soul, and happened to be very photogenic. They wrote their own parts, they shaped their own sound, and they burned out because they were doing too much, too fast.
The legacy isn't just about the 80s aesthetic. It’s about the fact that for a brief window of time, a group of guys from the suburbs of London made music that sounded like pure, unadulterated sunshine. That’s a hard thing to do without being annoying. Somehow, they pulled it off.
Next time you’re stuck in traffic or having a particularly dull Tuesday, put on "Fantastic Day." Try to stay in a bad mood. It’s physically impossible. That’s the power of the haircut one hundred songs. They are a permanent vacation in a three-minute pop format.
Actionable Ways to Explore the Legacy
- Audit the Production: Listen to the 40th-anniversary half-speed master of Pelican West. The separation between the brass and the rhythm section is much clearer than on the original muddy 80s pressings.
- Watch the Live Performances: Find the 1982 Old Grey Whistle Test footage. It proves they weren't just a studio creation; they could actually play those hyper-fast parts live without a click track.
- Track the Influence: Create a playlist that bridges Haircut One Hundred with modern acts like Orange Juice, Aztec Camera, and even early No Doubt. You'll see the line of "sophisti-pop" and ska-adjacent funk very clearly.
- Support the Current Tour: Nick and the band have been active again. Catching a live show now is the best way to appreciate the technical skill required to play these "simple" pop songs.