![]() ![]() It’s still hard to grasp that three days later I’ll be watching my favorite band (winners of this year’s Fan Vote) be inducted into the Rock Hall - and on their first nomination. In fact, this week, my husband and I are celebrating our 15th anniversary of meeting at a Duran Duran concert… by going to a Duran Duran concert! I married a Brit named Simon, only to divorce him for a hotter man named John. I ran an international Duran fanzine before pursuing a career in entertainment journalism so I could be paid to be near them. I traveled to their concerts and waited outside their hotels and recording studios. From then on, everything I thought and felt was in the name of John, Nick, Simon, Roger and Andy. Up until that point, I’d shared my musical taste with my parents, but this was all mine. But soon I morphed into a new-wave Carrie Ann, the little girl in “Poltergeist,” spending hours staring at MTV waiting for Duran’s exotic, escapist videos. When I first found Duran Duran (or more like, they found me) I was 11 years old and listening to Air Supply and the “Grease” soundtrack. ![]() To that they’d add a funky rhythm section like Chic’s, the glamour of Roxy Music, and a quest for world domination a la their biggest hero, David Bowie. Inspired by the DIY ethic of the Sex Pistols, Duran would leave the punk legends’ filth and fury but take the raw power of Steve Jones’ incendiary guitar. In the late ’70s, co-founders Taylor (bassist) and Nick Rhodes (keyboards) came up with the sonic blueprint and career check list even before recruiting members Roger Taylor (drums), Andy Taylor (guitar) and Simon Le Bon (singer).
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