THOMPSON TWINS

It was about three o’clock in the afternoon, with the sun shining through the burnt sienna gauze of air on Manhattan's 57th Street. I was wearing my powder blue suit, with black shirt, tie and display handkerchief. black brogues, "navy” cotton socks with emerald tumbling dice on them. I was everything the welldressed CREEM reporter ought to be. I was calling on the Thompson Twins.

The Dauph’s file on the Thompson Twins was extensive, most of it provided by their record company, in whose offices the interview encounter would take place. Traveling upward in the compact elevator to the sixth floor headquarters of Arista, I flicked idly through the dossier. Some 8x10 black and white snapshots that would be useful in positively identifying the subjects. The expected assortment of press puffery—harmless background info, mostly, yet hidden among the biographical material, some intriguing references to replicants, plus an account of a violent incident between Alannah Currie and Lou Reed in New Zealand Hmmmmm. Rounding out the file, of course, were some Thompson Twins records, which could be used as evidence against them.