Back From Out of the Blue

WORKING AS A YOUNG PRESENTER ON RADIO 5 in South Africa in 1988 was both exhilarating and fraught with tension. The country was deep in the grip of apartheid, and the National Party government had recently extended the State of Emergency. Key anti-apartheid organisations were banned, and detention without trial had become routine. Voices of dissent were being silenced — sometimes permanently. 

Foreword: Dave Charles

Nearly every South African band I featured on my show was under surveillance by the Security Branch, accused of spreading so-called subversive, anti-apartheid messages. Playing their music on national radio wasn’t just rebellious — it was dangerous. Still, I believed that their songs mattered. They were giving voice to the pain, the courage, and the defiance of a generation that refused to accept the status quo. 

So, I played them — the banned tracks, the forbidden voices. Songs the authorities didn’t want the public to hear. It cost me my job: suspension, and ultimately, dismissal. But it was worth it. 

In that same year, Bright Blue released "Weeping", a haunting and powerful anthem that captured the spirit of the times. For many of us, it became more than just a song. It was a lifeline — a reminder that, despite the darkness, we were still dreaming of — and fighting for — a kinder world. 

"It doesn't matter now 

It's over anyhow 

He tells the world that it's sleeping 

But as the night came round 

I heard its lonely sound 

It wasn't roaring, it was weeping 

It wasn't roaring, it was weeping" 

A Brighter Blue 

Words: Ian Cohen 

I stood on the pavement in Kalk Bay and looked down the grey subway steps. I paused… and wandered back forty-odd years to when we first scrambled down those steps to play our first of many Bright Blue gigs. I took a deep breath of sea air… and took my first step. Little did I know what an epic week lay ahead.

In the 80s, sex and drugs and rock n roll had a new slant—war, civil unrest, defiance and resistance. We took them all on. A busy and scary business. Playing the Brass Bell, with sea spray in the air and surfers riding the reef, was always a temporary escape—losing ourselves in the music.

Now, 43 years later (to be precise), I walked down those same steps - same Fender P bass slung over my shoulder. This time we came fully loaded with the original lineup: Dan Heymann from NYC, Tom Fox from Auckland, Robin Levetan, and the Cohen brothers from Cape Town. Joined by the incredible Julio Sigauque (Freshlyground), Shaggy Scheepers on keys, Buddy Wells on sax, and Rosie Bruce on vocals… it felt like Orchestra Bright Blue. 

We brought new songs for 2025 (now on all streaming platforms) and a new spirit.

"The Bell looked beautiful.

At night it felt like the Colosseum.

The fans were amped.

We took the place apart.

The love is strong."

That gig was something else - packed to the brim and buzzing with nostalgia. We were all teleported back to the 80s… the dark days of resistance, but also the hope of better things to come. The response was overwhelming. We stayed to say goodbye… and found old friends, family, and fans. The love was mutual.

I was chatting to Nic Hofmeyr and he called Bright Blue a core with a community of musicians that come and go. He’s right. Always evolving, always growing.

Then two more nights at the Star Theatre with our friends Heather Mac, Arno Carstens, André de Villiers, James Stewart, John Ellis… and of course our bestie Robin Auld. The shows marked the end of a surfing event—we closed the evening, and everyone joined in and sang along and it was so unexpected. It was truly overwhelming, the love we’ve felt from our fans here in Cape Town. So, one gig became three. And the band just rocked.

At our final show, we blew the roof off. Walking into the foyer straight after the set to say hello and thank those who came, and we were met with nothing but love. We were treated like lost family found. For the first time, I could feel that Bright Blue had become a local treasure.

Yip… we come and go. In the 90s, a stripped-down Bright Blue released an EP called Every Now and Then. Now the sentiment is the same, but to play with all the original members… and to perform our new song We Come and Go… it felt right. It felt sure of itself.

I should probably stop here. It was weeks of solo practice, two weeks with the band, and three incredible gigs with our families, friends and fans all around us showering us with love.

My world is full of music. I hope yours is too.