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Tve never had that kind of fear’

Simon Le Bon comes forward, unsmiling, to shake hands. He orders tea, picks up a magazine and sits on the window seat in his hotel on Madison Avenue. He appears relaxed, dressed in black and white and looking slimmer than he often does in photographs. And he chats ‘casually, flicking through the magazine, talking about topics as diverse as aboriginal hunting techniques, Ronald Reagan and the death of the last Pope. It is only at the end of the morning, with all the personal and sometimes difficult questions over, that he is laughing openly and is relaxed to the point of offering the brown roots of dyed black hair for inspection. Five years as a person to be put on posters and pedestals have matured him. Now, even more than in the early, heady days of Duran Duran, he confesses to being slightly bemused at the public’s interest in someone with something of a talent for singing, song-writing and sex-appeal. Especially since the recent yachting accident that nearly claimed his life. After that, everything material, and even his talents, seemed rather less meaningful than they did before. And so, at the age of 27, it is in his mind to slow things down a little. As a new album, “So the Red Rose,” written and recorded by the group Arcadia — Simon and two other Duran members — is released this month, he has realised there is more to life than being top of the pops, even if it has made him a millionaire. When talking of the future of Duran Duran and the smaller group Arcadia, he says: “Well, it’s been crazy for the last five years and we decided it’s too much to carry on at that rate. We’re not going to continue on what’s commonly called the rock ’n’ roll treadmill — “What a great picture!” he interrupts suddenly, stopping at a photo of a pretty girl in the magazine he is still leafing through. “Isn’t she sexy?” he says, completely losing his train of thought and then laughing at himself for doing so. Back to music, he continues: “Duran’s a very welloiled machine and there’s no point in trying to change that "Gosh! She’s got a lovely body, hasn’t she?” He breaks off, still leafing through the pages and looking at a picture of a woman wearing nothing but a wide leather belt around her hips. “Really cute — I like dark women.” "Yes, well ...” — He puts down the magazine. In August, while indulging another of his passions, sailing, ' Simon Le Bon came perilously close to achieving the kind of Immortality attached to. Buddy Holly and James Dean. He nearly died young. As his 77-foot yacht Drum

set off in the Fastnet Race in gale-force winds and heavy seas, the keel broke off and it overturned, spilling most of the 24 crew — including Simon’s brother Jonathan — into the water trapping Simon and five others in a pocket of air underneath. “My God,” he says quietly. “It was an incredible thing. To have the boat going down like that, and then later to have all the Press around ... People-say, “Well, you’re used to it.” But that kind of Press attention is totally different. Suddenly, they seemed very aggressive ...” What happened was that he went from being a pop story and a celebrity, to being of actual news interest. He was on the front pages, not only of the tabloid newspapers which normally favour him, but of the “Guardian,” the “Daily Telegraph” and “The Times.” And it surprised him a lot and flattered him a little. But the experience of the boat going down gave him something less pleasant and more lasting: fear. As plans go ahead for Simon to sail in the last two legs of The Whitbread Round The World Race, which began at the end of September, 1985, clearly his experience hasn’t put him off. He’s quiet for a few seconds. “It scared me a hell of a lot,” he says. “I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t scared and there are certain things which bring back very frightening memories. I just have the vision, and the feel and the smell — you don’t realise just how frightened you are until after the event. “It’s that horrible gut sort of fear — fear of death. It makes you feel ...” and for a moment he’s lost for words. “I don’t know,” he falters. “I’ve never had that kind of fear before. It’s a horrible feeling in the bottom of your stomach. It’s very physical and it makes you feel quite helpless and weak.” The full impact sank in gradually in the weeks after the accident and began to close in to the extent that he and Yasmin Parvaneh, his girlfriend, decided to go on a week’s holiday to Mustique. “I had to get away,” he explains, “because I started to really think about it It was good for us to have a bit of time with each other, anyway,” he adds. “But it’s funny because its the kind of thing you think will never happen to you. I nearly drowned. It nearly happened to me. And you realise how very fragile life is and how you really have got to take care. “The one great thing about it was that it happened where it did” (three miles off the Cornish coast) “and when it did” (in daylight). “I it had happened at two in the morning, 100 miles off the coast in pitch darkness, I doubt very much whether I’d be sitting here talking to you now. I know that sounds horrible, but it’s true. “Did I pray? You know, I

haven’t thought about it, but I think I did. Not to any established God but to my own strength and life and survival. But there was one point when I thought, “God, it’s today.” Then I said, “Is it? No. No way!” "I found out very quickly what my priorities in life are. My life, my family, my girlfriend and my friends. That’s all that really counts to me.

“People have said, ‘Oh, you’ve lost a lot of money.” Well, it’s no great loss when you compare it with having your life. In fact, it’s nothing.” This serious subject apart, he is not, anyway, a flippant person. He jok.es often, many times a cheeky delight in embarrassing people. But he thinks about things deeply. Almost as if afraid you might laugh, he says: “It sounds really stupid but I’d like to one day train to get my Master’s ticket (a certificate of sailing proficiency), so I could take people on holiday — and get paid for it,” he adds.

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19861229.2.112

Bibliographic details

Press, 29 December 1986, Page 21

Word Count
1,116

Tve never had that kind of fear’ Press, 29 December 1986, Page 21

Tve never had that kind of fear’ Press, 29 December 1986, Page 21

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