And Then There Were None…

When the second founding member of everyone's second favourite girl band quit in 2005, to be replaced by Amelle Berrabah, many snarked that all we needed was for one more to go, then they could reform the original line up of Sugababes and start all over again.

 

I'm writing this one hour after the rather extraordinary news that Keisha Buchanan, the final founding member of Sugababes, is to be replaced by 2009 UK Eurovision flop Jade Ewen. And like many, my brain is in shock.

 

 

The variety of social networking sites open in numerous windows on my screen keep updating with exclamations of disbelief from friends and colleagues. It's as if a lesser member of the Royal Family just died in a bizarre gardening accident. Despite the jokes, it was the last thing anyone expected and it simply makes no sense.

 

But let's put things into perspective. This is neither Robbie being booted out of Take That nor Geri leaving the Spice Girls. It's not even Noel stropping off from Oasis. Keisha not being a Sugababe anymore will not go down as an historic moment in pop; just a really, really odd one. And to understand why it's odd, we need to look back to the very start of the group's career.

 

The story goes that Sugababes were put together in 1998 by former All Saints manager Ron Tom (never trust a man with two first names) when he united school friends Keisha Buchanan and Mutya Buena with Siobhán Donaghy to form a group initially (and rather stomach churningly) called The Sugababies. Their debut single Overload was a top 10 hit, but subsequent singles faired less well and Siobhán left the group in 2001.

 

But Donaghy's leaving was far from amicable. Reportedly referring to Buchanan as a "bully", the nature of her departure was enough to give any parent hyper-tension. During a promotional trip to Japan, Siobhán – feeling alienated from her bandmates and slipping into an as-yet undiagnosed clinical depression – excused herself from an interview, hailed a cab to the airport and booked herself a plane back to London. She was just 16 years old.

 

Hereafter, stories circulated that the other two girls had spoken in their own coded language to which Siobhán was not privy. In an interview I conducted, prior to the launch of her first solo album in 2003, Donaghy told me she'd forgiven them and accepted it was all part of growing up, before adding: "But I still think, what *****!"

However, the band's profile wasn't high enough for these events to merit more than a passing mention outside of fan circles. Neither was it unusual for Donaghy to be replaced by someone from another group (even The Rolling Stones did that).

 

So the arrival of Heidi Range felt more like a new chapter than a tumultuous upheaval. Heidi had, herself, been in an early line-up of Atomic Kitten, a band who continued their success after replacing Kerry Katona with Jenny Frost, from Eurovision flops Precious (was that the sound of the déjà vu bell being rung?)

 

This second arrangement of Sugababes proved to be a winning a formula, jettisoning the dark, trip-hop tinged sound of One Touch for the then revolutionary mash-up of the Richard X produced Freak Like Me. The group balanced and complimented each other well: Mutya was moody and cool, Keisha soulful and pretty, Heidi cute and smiley (and the one the dads fancied). Together they achieved four UK number one singles and three hit albums, and recorded their strongest and best loved songs, including Round Round, Stronger, Push The Button and Ugly.

But journalists came to know you could never rely on a full quota of 'Babes to turn up for interviews, or for the junket to happen at all. I've interviewed the group on five occasions and had last minute cancellations, or the absence of one or more girls every time.

 

Yet in 2005, rumours began to swirl that Mutya was failing to show up for group activities, and mutterings of arguments began to do the rounds. Yet even at the height of the alleged discord, I encountered all three girls during a press day appearing happier and closer than ever before.

 

Shortly after our interview it was announced that Mutya would be leaving Sugababes for "personal reasons".

 

To borrow from dear Oscar Wilde, to lose one band member may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness. Or, as the delightful British tabloids would assume, the result of that oft-mentioned "bullying". That Mutya embarked on a solo career within months seemed proof her leaving was not quite as it seemed. Did she jump or was she pushed?

 

Yet perversely this suited our idea of the Sugababes. It confirmed our suspicions that being a Sugababe was a constant hell of back biting, plotting and eventual ostracising. And their apparent dysfunction gave them a gritty illusion of reality, in an otherwise airbrushed pop world.

Waiting in the wings (and some believe she had been groomed to take over) was Amelle Berrabah. Amelle had been struggling to make her name as part of a sister act duo, called Boo2 (and you thought Sugababes was a terrible name).

 

While many fans must've doubted the group's ability to continue with just one original member, Amelle revealed herself to be charming, charismatic and in possession of an above average vocal ability; she was practically over-qualified for the job! She also shared the group's love for cervicalgia-inducing hoop earrings, big enough for dolphins to jump through.

 

Against all odds she fitted in just fine and Sugababes continued their rulebook-defying run of hits, with a hastily rerecorded Taller in More Ways and its follow-up album Catfights and Spotlights (oh the irony).

 

But things didn't stay rosy for long. Amelle, it was suggested, came from the wrong side of the tracks. A slur which gained credence seemingly on a month by month basis as tabloids reported several arrests and some truly unpleasant inner-family accusations that we won't go into here. The papers also never missed an opportunity to point out that the girls were rarely seen together in public.

 

No one expects a pop group to last forever. The temptation to prove yourself, not to mention the temptation not to have to split your royalties three ways, proves too strong to resist for most singers who've had to share the limelight for any length of time. And as if on cue, the dust of rumour billowed into a cloud of absurd tabloid speculation this month. Firstly it was reported that Amelle had been kidnapped, before being downgraded to being simply "missing". When the Sugababes turned up to record their live session for MSN Music Xclusives, Amelle's absence was blamed on "an emergency". Ah, so she was leaving the band!

 

Fears as to her whereabouts were laid to rest thanks to good old social networking when a somewhat bemused Berrabah tweeted: "MISSING!!!? Is this some sort of joke!!!!! I'm not bloody missing!!!!!" (exclamation marks singer's own).

 

Keisha was next to pop up in the Twitter-verse with a virtual essay (difficult to do in 140 character bursts). She seemed genuinely upset that, once again she was the subject of slanders suggesting she had bullied Amelle out of the group, insisting they were all still friends. She ended on a slightly cryptic message, saying: "Wow history repeats... This hurts."

 

So with Amelle's departure as good as confirmed (her recent number one hit with Tinchy Stryder appeared to seal the deal), the unlikely name of Jade Ewen popped into the arena.

 

Jade had gallantly represented Britain in our most recent Eurovision disaster, having won the poisoned chalice on an Andrew Lloyd Webber-fronted, publicly voted talent show (and previously been a member of earthbound girl group Trinity Stone). But with a well received solo single out this month, it was crazy to suggest she'd give that all up to be the evil Sugababes' next victim.

 

Once again Keisha reassured fans, telling the News of the World that the group were not splitting up, Jade Ewen was just a friend who was not joining them and the Sugababes were in fact in LA together. "There's the three of us in this band and no one is joining," declared Keisha, defiantly.

 

Two days later, a statement is placed on the Sugababes official website announcing: "The current line-up of the Sugababes has disbanded. Heidi Range and Amelle Berrabah will continue as the Sugababes and will be joined by new member Jade Ewen. They release their album Sweet 7 on November 23."

 

No matter how many times one reads it, it still makes no sense. The statement was cleverly released after office hours so none of us hacks could bug the press officer for further details. But thankfully we no longer live in a world of restricted information. Over at the giant thought repository of Twitter, Keisha had been busy. Among the expected gracious platitudes came this: "Although it was not my choice to leave, it's time to enter a new chapter in my life."

 

You can dress it up any way you like, but what that surely means is the only remaining founding member of the Sugababes was sacked. No, worse than sacked – ousted. If this happened to a president of an unstable regime we'd call it a coup. With friends like Jade Ewen, who needs, well, people to usurp you from the job you've had for 11 years?

 

An album that we know was close to completion with Keisha will now have a hurriedly rerecorded vocal track by a new girl whose arrival we'll be expected to accept is part of the natural ebb and flow of being in a long running band, when we know (and we're sure to find out more in the coming weeks) it's nothing of the sort. How can the New Sugababes (as we shall call them from now on) expect to be taken seriously in the coming months? What does anyone think they'll gain by decimating a much-loved group and treating the fans with such contempt as to think they won't mind?

 

Or perhaps they'll get away with it; they have so far, twice. Perhaps it doesn't ultimately matter to people who is in the Sugababes. Maybe it's just the songs they enjoy, regardless of who's singing them. It brings to mind the popular version of Theseus's paradox: If I inherit my grandfather's axe, but replace the handle and then give it to my son who replaces the blade, is it still my grandfather's axe? And ultimately, does it matter? It is, after all, just an axe. Or in this case, a damn fine pop group.