The Golden Age of Thomas Dolby

By Gregg Shapiro

Photo By Felix Goncalves

It’s hard to believe that “The Golden Age of Wireless,” the debut album by musician Thomas

Dolby was released more than 40 years ago. Regardless of its vintage, it still sounds as fresh and appealing as the day it hit record store shelves. A versatile artist who lists Joni Mitchell, Lene Lovich, Prefab Sprout, and Foreigner among his many collaborators, Dolby is the definition of someone who plays well with other. Dolby, who is embarking on a multi-city international concert tour, including

several U.S. dates, graciously made time for an interview before hitting the road. [Thomas Dolby performs on April 20 at House of Blues.]

Gregg Shapiro: Your 1982 majorlabel debut album, “The Golden Age of Wireless,” was rereleased in 1983 to include the hit single “She Blinded Me With Science.” Were you prepared for the reception that both the single and the album received?

Thomas Dolby: Totally unprepared. I never really saw myself as a mainstream act, so it was pretty

amusing when suddenly I was in the mainstream. I've always been a bit of an introvert, a bit of a social

hermit. I went from wallflower to the center of attention in a very short space of time. I viewed it with

amusement more than anything. It never really overwhelmed me. I wasn't particularly into hedonism,

partying, being the rock star figure. I never really got wrapped up in that stuff. I just found it creatively very stimulating because I started to get the most amazing offers of different projects. Musically, it was the beginning of a fascinating journey.

GS: Your debut coincided with the early years of MTV, and the “She Blinded Me With Science” video was seen by viewers on a regular basis. How do you feel about your impact on the music video genre?

TD: I think MTV was crucial for me, really. My album came out, won awards, got great reviews, and sold

about three copies. The excuse given by the American (record) label was, “Well, you’re a little bit hard to pigeonhole for radio programmers. Your stuff is kind of funky, kind of punky, but you're a white dude.

Although MTV was accused of homogenizing its playlist. It was actually, in the early ‘80s, a lot more

diverse than most American radio was. They didn't really care what genre of music they were playing, so long as it had a great video. As MTV got into the major markets, it was thrilling for audiences. Cool people were staying home on a Saturday night to watch MTV instead of going out to clubs and gigs. As the viewership ticked up, radio stations had to take notice of what MTV was playing, because that's what people were calling in and asking for. Suddenly, the radio situation was reversed for me, and I was getting a lot of play across different genres of radio. Dance clubs were opening up, as well. I guess I was ambushing the public. It was a crest of a wave for the sort of new British invasion. Catchy song and catchy image, and it just worked. It all came together.

GS: While we’re on the subject of radio, presently your music is in regular rotation on Sirius XM’s First Wave station, where you continue to reach the fans who have been with you from the start, as well as younger people who might have been unfamiliar with your music. Do you recall how you felt the first time you heard one of your songs played on the radio?

TD: It wasn't really an overnight thing because, as a keyboard player, as a writer and producer, I had some success before. I was very surprised when Foreigner asked me to play on their album “4.” When “Waiting For a Girl Like You” was a hit with this sort of dreamy synth intro that I made, suddenly, that was getting on mainstream radio. So, I heard that. I wrote “New Toy” for Lene Lovich, and that was a big hit in the UK. We were on “Top of the Pops,” and things like that. It had been a gradual thing. But I think the difference with “She Blinded Me With Science” was that I created it in my own brand.

GS: Out musician Adele Bertei performed with you on the song “Hyperactive,” from your second album, “The Flat Earth,” and queer musician Gail Ann Dorsey is currently touring with you. How aware are you of an LGBTQ following for your music?

TD: I'm not sure if, in the early days, it was that easy to put your finger on. I think that the gay community, in the early ‘80s, still had its own clubs, its own bars, its own lifestyle, which then, as we know, was decimated in the mid ‘80s. I wasn't aware of being a darling of that particular demographic the way, let's say, Bette Midler might have been [laughs] or somebody like Barbra Streisand. I think the appeal of my music crossed barriers. When I went to see Prince in the early days, I was amazed by the age, the race, the proclivities of his audience; it was right across the map. I think queer was a good way to describe his audience in those days. I certainly didn't put any labels on anything. But through the history of people I've played with, you mentioned a couple, there's a lot of LGBTQ people right there. In my own family, there’s a lot, as well. I have three kids. The eldest is trans, the

middle one is a lesbian, and the youngest is a drummer. When my eldest kid transitioned – his name

now is Harper, and he's 35 – but he transitioned in his late teens. That was before there were a

lot of high profile trans people. We were living in the UK at the time, and he was an activist

and very much a mentor for other kids and their families. He felt very fortunate that his parents were very progressive; that we supported him. At the time when he started down this path, we were living in San Francisco. So straight, vanilla people were in the minority there [laughs]. Then we went to the UK, and he went on BBC morning TV to talk about his experience, to help other kids, and so on. I started to get social media comments saying, “Right on! Great that you're supportive.” People would start to notice things in my songs; they’d pick up on lyrical things. Even before my son transitioned, I had a song called “Simone” that was about a trans person.

GS: Thank you so much for that. Are there contemporary artists to whom you feel like you could draw a through line from you to them?

TD: A few years ago, there was synthwave. I think that for those artists, I was one of the influences

for them. I think it's more to do with songwriting than genre, if anything. Over the years, when new artists have emerged, I’ve thought, “Oh, I bet they used to listen to me when they were young [laughs.” In fact, I had rather a nice surprise a year or two ago when I was listening to a

podcast that was made by Billie Eilish's dad, Patrick O’Connell. Billie came on, and she said, “Dad, what

was that weird stuff you used to play us when you took us on camping trips?” He said, “Oh, you mean

Thomas Dolby?” (She said), “Yeah, put some of that on.” Billie Eilish starts singing along with my songs,

“The guy is so good, but it's so weird!” I think that she and Finneas were a little bit influenced by their

dad, who was a big fan, sort of ramming the songs down their throats when they went on long

camping trips.

GS: That’s so cool! There seems to be more conversations about AI every day. Do you have concerns about AI with music, and if so, what are they?

TD: I'm a glass-half-full kind of guy. Technological advances and musical artistic advances have always sort ofgone hand in hand, or at least leapfrogged each other. It's exciting when new, creative technology comes along. I'm not the doomsayer that says, “This is going to mean the end of everything.” I can remember sitting in a musicians’ union meeting in London in about 1982 at which

the agenda was: the union shall ban synthesizers forever because they're taking jobs away from real

musicians. The motion passed, but there were a handful of us that's stood up and made impassioned

speeches. Being able to get my hands on synthesizers early on was really a substitute for…I think my

music is quite orchestral in many ways. I think I'm sort of a frustrated orchestral, classical composer

[laughs]. A synth was a way for me to get into the organic nature of symphonic arrangement. As opposed to some of my contemporaries, who leaned into the inherent coldness and mechanism of

synths. Kraftwerk, Gary Numan, The Human League, etc. That stuff is great, and I touched on that. But I think more often I would use synths and samplers to create these imaginative soundscapes and cinematic textures. Maybe not my radio hits, but the deeper cuts on my albums are very personal.

Use the sounds as a way to take you inside my brain.

GS: You’re an artist with a long history of live performance and have released a few live albums over the years. Now, you’re embarking on this 2026 tour, which includes U.S. dates, as well as several UK dates. In what ways would you say U.S. audiences differ from those in the UK, and in what ways do you think they are similar, if at all?

TD: It's interesting; I feel somewhat exposed when I go back to the UK. I don't think this is entirely justified, but British people are very proud of the originality and authenticity that they ascribe

to their homegrown talent. The ruse in all of this is that actually what we're great at, and

have been great at for centuries, is going out in the world, finding the spices and the rare gems and

minerals, and bringing them home, wrapping them up, putting a new spin on them, and then re-exporting them to the rest of the world.

GS: Are you describing a kind of musical colonialism?

TD: Totally! I think there's very little true, indigenous, British pop music. Whether it was the blues, reggae, African music, electro, house, dance, techno from Detroit and DC – we would go out, and we'd snag the best bits, bring it home, and put a new Carnaby Street spin on it and then sell it back to the rest of the world. The British are actually quite snooty about anybody who does that openly. They prefer it if you grew up in the projects and every morning before you even have brewed your first cup of tea, you jotted off a couple of lyrics to new indie songs [laughs]. Like Morrissey or somebody like that. It's not to say there's none. Prefab Sprout, who I worked with. I think Paddy McAloon is a true national treasure. But there's not many of him. There's a lot of roots in American music that is

truly original, albeit with a heritage of African, Cuban, whatever. I think there’s more true indigenous music in the States between jazz, funk, R&B, and rap and all the rest.

Photo By Felix Goncalves