Why Do People Hate The Style Council?

Or, more specifically, why is there a cohort of fans who love The Jam and Paul Weller’s solo albums, yet struggle with the bits in between? There’s a curious overlap between people who went bald and right-wing as they got older and people who can’t get on with The Style Council.

I saw The Style Council at Newcastle City Hall on their first UK tour. The show was set up like a soul revue, with different acts including The Questions and a very young Billy Bragg. Bragg ended his set with a one-man cover of Pictures at an Exhibition — recorded live in the same theatre by Emerson, Lake & Palmer.

My brother was too young to see The Jam, and while The Style Council were fantastic live, I think he would rather have been there at Whitley Bay Ice Rink watching The Jam. My mate Phil King was with us too, and he had no doubts at all: he loved The Style Council so much he even had his hair cut and dyed to match Weller’s.

Their debut album Café Bleu is back. A new six-CD expanded reissue is on the way, marking a reappraisal of one of the most unusual albums of the early 1980s. This was Weller’s first LP since leaving The Jam two years earlier, signing off with both a single (Beat Surrender) and an album (The Gift) sitting at number one.

Café Bleu didn’t sound much like The Jam — but that shouldn’t have been a surprise after the string of non-album Style Council singles released across 1983. Speak Like a Child, Long Hot Summer, Money-Go-Round and Party Chambers all experimented with different sounds and pointed clearly away from three-chord mod orthodoxy.

It’s a great listen: a mix of immaculate pop songs and restless experimentation across styles and genres. Despite being the star of the show, Weller sings on fewer than half the tracks. Four are instrumentals, the best of which include the Northern Soul-inspired banger Council Meetin’ and the full-on jazz workout Droppin’ Bombs on the White House.

Elsewhere, vocals are shared with Dee C. Lee, Dizzy Heights, Ben Watts and Tracey Thorn. Watts and Thorn would soon become huge stars as Everything But The Girl, but when Café Bleu was released they had just one single to their name.

Instrumentally, Weller gives equal status to Mick Talbot — previously best known for his work with mod revival band The Merton Parkas and a short stint in Dexys Midnight Runners — and drummer Steve White, who was just 18 years old at the time.

Weller’s willingness to share the limelight and bring in new talent confounded many fans, particularly those who wanted The Jam 2. In retrospect, though, it’s exactly this openness that gives Café Bleu its sharpness and freshness, and which still makes it sound distinct forty years on.

Not everything works. Me Ship Came In! is limp pretend Latin jazz, and the band’s flirtation with rap on A Gospel is a bit cringe-making.

But when the album works, it works brilliantly. The Whole Point of No Returning, Here’s the One That Got Away, My Ever Changing Moods, You’re the Best Thing and Headstart for Happiness are among the best things Weller ever wrote — a bold claim, perhaps, but one justified even by his intimidating back catalogue.

The truth is that people don’t hate The Style Council because they were bad — they hate them because they refused to behave. Weller walked away from certainty, from repetition, from an audience that wanted him to stay the same forever. For some fans, that felt like betrayal. For others, it was liberation. Café Bleu still divides because it represents a moment when pop music chose curiosity over comfort — and not everyone forgives you for that, even forty years on.

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