Don't, don't we want them?

We do, if appreciative live audiences are anything to go by. It's been 10 years since the last Human League album - and 30 years since Dare, their breakthrough record. Frontman Phil Oakey tells TONY CLAYTON-LEAabout the wilderness years, going against the guitar grain and the group's enduring credo: to start a disco inferno

AND WHAT exactly, Phil Oakey, have you been up to in the past 10 years? It's a fair enough question to ask of the Human League frontman, considering that the electro-pop unit hasn't released an album since 2001's Secrets. Oakey is talking from his home in Sheffield, where he lives with his girlfriend, his dog, his computers and - in a neat twist of the man-machine aesthetic that caused David Bowie to pronounce, in the late 1970s, The Human League as the future of pop music - a garden speckled with long-tailed tits.

"Maybe for a while it was whether we would do one again or not at all," says Oakey, whose debut appearance on Top of the Pops in the late 1970s generated WTF concerns from parents across the UK and Ireland (the nipple rings, the high heels, the lipstick and asymmetrical hairdo didn't help). "And then the years crept up on us. Secrets failed commercially, and it was the first time since the '80s that we hadn't any singles in the Top 40. From then we couldn't help but notice that the music business is not the same business it was in any way in, say, the late '90s, so we took the opportunity to play live instead of releasing albums.

"When we started back in the late '70s, we made records and the money flowed in from those. Then you played concerts to promote them, losing money on the gigs in the process. These days it's the opposite - you don't make a huge amount of money from records, but you make enough from gigs and touring. That means for people like me there is no certainty of money flowing into the coffers - or at least not like it used to. Maybe that's the way things should be. You get soft pretty quickly when you start earning money - as soon as you have some in the bank, you get a mortgage and a car, and then you take your eye off the prize."

Ah, yes, but what a prize it was. Although they began life in the late 1970s as a frugal electronic pop act that fused the melodies of Kraftwerk with the industrial dourness of Joy Division, a mutiny in 1980 (leaving Oakey on his own, pondering his future) transformed The Human League into a triple-rated cash cow. In a commercial and creative master stroke (or drunken strategy - depending on viewpoint), Oakey walked into Sheffield nightclub Crazy Daisy, walked over to two dancing schoolgirls and asked them to join his new band. Within a year Oakey, Susanne Sulley and Joanne Catherall watched in wonder as the hits kept on coming. By the time 1995 rolled around, they had hit the UK Top 20 on 15 occasions.

As Oakey has intimated, it hasn't been all rosy since then. Their last UK Top 20 album was in 1995 (Octopus), their last UK Top 20 single was in the same year (One Man In My Heart). The band's fall from commercial grace was all about, repeats Oakey, taking their eyes off the prize.

"We needed that slap in the face, because we were chasing the wrong things. A step away from trying to make really good records is trying to make hit records, and then really hoping they'll be hits, so that everyone can see what you're doing. We were trying to mould what we did towards what we thought people would like."

Pop acts before and after The Human League have made the same mistake, yet Phil, Jo and Su are still around, still banging out the hits to an ever- appreciative crowd. Oakey puts their longevity down to a mixture of luck, lack of sophistication and having a healthy back catalogue.

"If there was a reason - and I'm really not sure there is one - then I think it was because we really loved pop music. We just did the right thing at the right time, and we got the right people. I also don't think we were cynical about what we did - we wanted to give people the same excitement that The Trammps' Disco Inferno tune - which I rate as probably the best ever pop single - gave. I also feel we were a handy alternative to rock music. The guitar had become so predominant in music that people needed that opportunity to turn away from it a bit.

And we were very inspired by disco in doing that. We didn't mind that we looked a little bit camp - we always rolled in a lot of the gay crowd. That suited us, and we were glad to be an alternative to the norm."

Having songs as strong as Love Action (I Believe In Love), Open Your Heart, Don't You Want Me, Louiseand Humancertainly helped. With those bangers in their flak jacket they couldn't help but last the distance.

It's a basic truth, says Oakey, but if you've got a lot of records that did well in a lot of countries, then a tolerable lifestyle beckons. "We can do gigs for up to an hour and people will know all the songs. It's as horribly simple as that. Also, we were ambitious and we didn't mind working hard."

More than 30 years later they're still working hard at it, in no way yearning for the halcyon days, invigorated by the energy of dance music and the simplicity of pop, yet aware of the advancing years. The Human League is, by one definition at least, a heritage act, yet one whose new album, Credo (which, in keeping with all their previous studio records, is a one-word title) should bring them into contact with a younger audience.

"I think that's what we'll find out quite soon," says Oakey. "Do I worry about reaching out to a fresher audience? Well, as I get older I truly believe there are things you shouldn't worry about any more, and my attitude these days is to take delight in the world at large. And I hope that music continues to do just that for me for a long, long time. It's an evolving sort of language, music, and if it's what you're interested in then you've got to be part of that. Frankly I'm raring to go, eager to put out more music and see if it sells. We don't, and won't, rest on our laurels."

Credois out March 18 on Wall of Sound/PIAS. Human League play Dublin's Vicar Street on Sunday, May 1

You old romantics Guyliner returns

They haven't gone away, you know. Just when you thought it was safe to put away the guyliner and the silk blouses, along comes the original of the species. But what of the other original New Romantic bands - the ones that had us all in a tizzy with their sculpted cheekbones, their fringes just so, their synthesizers and their lip gloss?

Well, a week after Human League release Credo, their first album in 10 years, along comes Duran Duran with All You Need Is Now. Originally released digitally last December, the album is being released physically to tie in with their upcoming tour, which starts at SXSW in Texas next week.

Other New Romantic acts on the comeback trail this year include Culture Club, who haven't released an album since 1999's Don't Mind If I Do.Later this year, Boy George and co will embark on a 30th anniversary tour, with a new album to follow in 2012.

One more spin Classics of the genre

ADAM AND THE ANTS

KINGS OF THE WILD FRONTIER (1980)It wasn't all about Spandau Ballet, as this fine album testifies. Adam Ant - who will be touring later this year - described his multicultural call to blouson-covered arms "the final nail in the coffin of punk".

THE HUMAN LEAGUE

DARE (1981)"No guitars were used in the making of this album," it stated on the inside sleeve of this album, easily one of the most influential pop records ever made. It's also one of the era's most sombre, despite the fact that you can dance to every single track. Well, most of them.

DURAN DURAN

RIO (1982)This Brummie band started off with the intention of fusing Chic with the Sex Pistols, but ended up being something altogether idiosyncratic. Not too much so, however, as the record's multi-million sales prove.