New Fame Game

Highgate, where Fame Academy is based, is a rather salubrious area in north
London that often leaves me cold. Heavily populated by rather smug, satisfied types braying in their four-wheel drives, it can make sitting in the pub on the green a little toe curling. Not when you're with David Grant though. He could charm the birds out of the trees, sell snow to Eskimos and get home in time to make your tea. I mean, he lavished me with compliments with such sincerity I almost believed him.

If you haven't watched Fame Academy then shame on you, because it's
fabulously addictive. The formula is simple but effective: a group of wannabe pop stars are held captive in a house and put up for eviction on a weekly basis.

Their fate depends on the vote of the public and four judges, who include David and his wife Carrie Grant. The pair also act as voice coaches to the young hopefuls. David is the voice of reason, while Carrie is firm but fair. Both are adept at serving `insult sandwiches' (cushioning a criticism between two veiled compliments). They're a marketing team, the funky, multi-racial version of Richard and Judy.

"I'm really glad I'm doing it with Carrie," says David. "Last year she was doing it on her own, which was really hard. She'd get home exhausted and have all this baggage to unload, and I'd just listen to her for an hour or so.

"We have to be their tutor, their mentor, mother and father. But we can get into the car at the end of the day, talk about it for a while and move on to other things." Like being a mum and dad to Olivia, 9, and Talia, 2.

David and Carrie have been doing voice coaching since 1993, when they got their first break with Take That. They have since helped S Club, Will Young, Gareth Gates, The Spice Girls, Atomic Kitten and Charlotte Church.
What does David think about their music abilities? "Well, some of them are very talented and others are talented in areas other than singing.

"There are bands with four to five people - one can sing, the other two can dance and one's a great publicist, so as a group they really work well together. It's when they start to pursue solo careers that the dog doo hits the fan."

Talking of dirt, I tried to get him to dish some on the fledglings he's trained - but he merely points out: "It would be unprofessional to say so."

However he adds: "But sometimes I feel like a herdsman on the Serengeti, seeing all those lovely young gazelles leaping and frolicking. Then I look through my binoculars and see a pride of lions coming down the hill. What do you do - save them, or let them learn the hard way?"

A good analogy, but then he knows about the feckless industry that is the music biz. He's been there, done that, banked the bucks, laid low for a while and has been enjoying a steady renaissance for the past ten years.

David began his career as a performer with '80s band Linx, having tried his
hand at journalism for a while.

He worked at Island Records as a publicist before forming the group. "I went to audition for numerous bands from Melody Maker and nobody would have me so I decided to form my own," he says.

Showing commendable entrepreneurial flair and indomitable spirit - something he attributes to his Jamaican mother, who he clearly adores - he made his first hit single, You're Lying, on a shoe-string budget.

They borrowed £1,000, printed off 1,000 copies, took them to a specialist
record shop on Wednesday, it was played on the radio on Saturday and by
Monday all the record companies were phoning up wanting to sign them.

"We signed to Chrysalis because they didn't have a black music department
and no other black artists, so we thought if we sign to them, they'll market us like Blondie.

"We wanted to be the first black band with to have a Top 10 album and the
first black band on the front cover of the NME. We achieved both of those
objectives."

It was while he was surfing the crest of pop fame that David met Carrie. He
was a guest on her TV show, Freeze Frame. They married in 1988. Now, 15
years on, they are a successful husband and wife team - the most expensive
voice coaches in the business.

He still had time to buy me lunch, pay me compliments, give me careers
advice and perform a live rendition of my favourite song of his, Intuition.

I've decided this has now set the precedent for all interviews.