To Nick Rhodes on His 51st Birthday

51 years ago, Nicholas James Bates arrived on this celestial plane. For this I am grateful, as he would one day change his name to Nick Rhodes and with the help of his best childhood mate, Nigel John Taylor, form Duran Duran.

I have loved Duran Duran since before I was really aware of what a band was. I was hooked from the first time I heard "Ordinary World" on the radio in 1992. I was 7. When I was 11, I bought my first Duran Duran album (Decade, in case you are wondering), and at 12 my introduction to the internet was also my introduction to the band members themselves. I was immediately taken with Nick, probably because he looked an awful lot like this guy at school named Robert Fryer with whom I was enamored. Robert was off to college that summer, so my 12 year old heart fell in love with Nick Rhodes and never looked back.

While my interest in him at 12 was purely physical (he was the hottest guy in the band, duh!), my appreciation of Nick Rhodes the man has outshone my teenage lusting over the years. I see him now as a whole person. The Nick Rhodes to whom I am devoted at 27 is a mountain of talent packed into a slight and aesthetically pleasing frame. His is a 21st Century Renaissance Man - a father, musician, photographer, producer, fashionista, philosopher, art collector, lover, writer, and friend. Just not my friend. He is also incredibly human and not without personal fault. Although he and ex-wife Julie Anne are now on pleasant terms, his divorce was less than amicable. He is a workaholic, often at the expense of his family and friends. He isn't perfect and that kind of makes me appreciate him and his body of work even more at this stage in my life.

Since around the time I bought my first Duran Duran album I have had precious little predictability in my life. I have a handful of friends who have remained constant and loyal, but none of them have been in my life as long as this band. How appropriate that the band I should gravitate toward would be one that has NEVER broken up. They've had a revolving lineup over the years, but they've never thrown in the towel. Through all sorts of changes, moves, relationships, and various sundry life upheavals, there has always been the music. In my happiest times and in my very lowest, there has always been Duran Duran. Consistency. 

And how appropriate that the member I should gravitate toward is the ONLY member to have been present at every stage of the band, from the beginning. Nick Rhodes, Stephen Duffy, and John Taylor founded the band in 1978. Duffy left before they even got off the ground. Simon LeBon replaced him and has been a constant ever since, but he wasn't really there at the very beginning, was he? As for John Taylor, he dipped out for about 10 years to address his coke habit. But Nick - for 35 years - has been a Duran. I think that's awesome. Admirable. I need someone like that in my life - even if they are a celebrity and I am merely a fan.

There's so much more to it than fandom and consistency though. While every member definitely brings something to the table (Warren Cuccurullo - I am looking at you!), Nick's style really seems to shine through. His interests wind up in song lyrics ("The Man Who Stole A Leopard"), his tastes wind up on album covers, and his role in the band - synth player - is what gives them their signature sound. He is the grounding force. Without Nick Rhodes, there would be no band, and without the band, I might not be who I am today. 

I first learned about Lou Reed because Duran Duran covered The Velvet Underground's "Femme Fatale" and later, Lou's "Perfect Day". I doubt this was chance - Nick was best pals with Andy Warhol, founder of The Velvet Underground. My attraction to beat literature (which I later rejected, but still) was a result of learning "Wild Boys" was inspired by William S. Burroughs' book of the same name. So many of my interests can be traced back to Duran Duran - it's kind of a big deal. They expanded my mind and broadened my horizons. Listening to them I knew that there was more to life than some double-wide trailer at the end of a dirt road in Crescent City, Florida. 

Their music shaped who I am. They are still relevant today, and although they often point out that which is wrong with our culture ("Sin of the City", "Other People's Lives", "Networker Nation", and the whole of Red Carpet Massacre come to mind) they have never ceased to give me hope. All that I have become started with Duran Duran and all that is Duran Duran started with Nick Rhodes. This love affair may have begun with my late 90s obsession with bleached hair and androgeny, but it wound up being about so much more. Every day I give thanks for all that he is, that the band is, and everything they have so generously given me in return for my adoration and purchasing power.

I'm not going to lie and say that I wasn't that Duranie who hated Madeleine Farley and several of Nick Rhodes’ girlfriends thereafter. I was. I was 12, and like Lewis Black "deep, deep in my chest, beat[s] the heart, of a 12 year old girl" to this day. I love Duran Duran and Nick Rhodes in particular more than most things. My family and friends are the top of the list, but my boys are a solid #3. Also like Lewis Black, "rock and roll is like a religion to me"  and Duran Duran are part of the Holy Trinity. As such, I worship respectfully and at a distance. 

There are nights where I dream about hanging out with the band. In these dreams Nick and I usually wind up alone having some sort of deep conversation or doing something both exciting and mundane - something that friends do. These dreams are nice, but I know them for what they are: fantasies. While I believe that the members of Duran Duran, past and present (with the exception of that Judas, Andy Taylor) are kind, gracious, and generally wonderful people, I do not think for a moment that I would ever wind up having a heart to heart with any of them - or any other celebrity for that matter. That's not the way these things work.

I don't presume to think that they owe me any face time. They owe me nothing. Honestly, I probably owe them a debt that I could never begin to repay. They've given me so much more than music. How could I presume to think I am entitled to more than that? I bring this up because in researching some things for this post I found some very unpleasant forum posts by “fans”. Apparently, there were some shows toward the end of the last tour which were canceled because Nick was suffering from exhaustion. This caused quite the online uproar. People were irate. “I bought tickets �" they owe me!” they cried. Some “fans” began to disparage Nick’s character, calling him a jerk and suggesting that the show must go on, and asking “why can’t they just get another synth player?”.

Say what? Did a “fan” really just ask that question? The asking shows that the so called die-hard is nothing more than a poser �" an initiate. If they were at all savvy, they would know that the synthesizer is a very complicated instrument and you can’t just bring in someone else. If they had ever considered the men who create the music for one moment as more than products, they would know that Nick is the type to be more broken up than they were about his inability to perform. If they knew anything at all, these fans should know that Duran Duran does not cancel shows. One week before his birthday while on the Red Carpet Massacre Tour, Nick Rhodes’ father Roger passed away. Did they cancel the show? No. The band played on. So, if Nick, or any of the band say “Hey guys, I really can’t do this tonight,” you can rest assured that there was no other option. Work ethic: yet another admirable quality of both Nick and the band.

 As for these “fans”, I truly wonder how people can get to that state of mind - especially with regard to Nick. It's maddening. Personally, I hope that unlike Lewis Black I never get to meet the objects of my affection and idolatry because it will not be able to keep from embarrassing myself. If a Duran Duran cake can make me squeal and almost cry - if seeing the band walk on stage from the nosebleed section can cause me to involuntarily spring from my seat and scream at the top of my lungs - if merely thinking of them can make me smile in spite of myself - well, a meeting would probably send me into cardiac arrest. I would literally die. That's not a good look. I can see the headlines now: Aging Pop Stars Kill Enthusiastic Young Fan �"Stunned World Asks “Why?”

Instead, I must content myself with being a loyal and mostly sane fan. I hope that his birthday is filled with friends, family, and all manner of fine things and I wish Nick great happiness and prosperity in the coming year. So far 2013 has been pretty good to him: TV Mania, his side project with former Duran Duran guitarist Warren Cuccurullo was finally released, he had an exhibition of his photography, he's got a pretty awesome lady in his life, and he's back in the studio working on the band's 14th album. Today, I will eat strawberries (his favorite!) and dark chocolate (to symbolize decadence) while listening to 35 years worth of sonic perfection and being thankful that he and the band are still going strong. May Nick Rhodes and Duran Duran live long and prosper. Happy Birthday you lovely man, and thank you for being you.