Marc Almond Plastic Surgery: Marc Almond’s plastic surgery is investigated: the Soft Cell singer appears on Saturday Kitchens, There’s nothing like a lazy Saturday morning, and you can always count on ITV to deliver some fantastic programming during the weekend. James Martin takes over as presenter of Saturday Kitchen, a show that airs every Saturday morning, on the first of February in 2020. We got one-half of the best-selling UK band Soft Cell as a guest on this episode.
David Ball and Marc Almond formed the synth-pop band, which was hugely popular in the 1980s. Marc’s book “Chaos and a Dancing Star” was published in January 2020. Has Marc Almond had any kind of plastic surgery? I’m not sure how old he is.
Marc Almond has had what kind of plastic surgery procedures?
Marc Almond of Soft Cell was one-half of the duet. He’s worked in the music industry for over four decades. Marc, who was born in 1957 in Southport, Lancashire, is now 62 years old. Marc “came clean about nose surgery,” according to a 2006 report from Wales Online. Additionally, he had surgery to remove the bags beneath his eyes. Marc has undergone aesthetic surgery in the past, but he’s also had surgery that he wasn’t expecting. The iconic guitarist was nearly killed in a motorcycle accident in 2004. Marc was in a coma as a result of the accident and had to undergo emergency surgery on his upper body.
He got a big hit to the head in addition to the two large blood clots. In just two years, he was able to make a miraculous recovery and is now able to compose music again. He currently serves as a patron for the Headway injury charity. Marc told The Sun, “Mine was a pretty terrible injury.” I couldn’t walk correctly and had damage to my frontal lobe. “Even now, I’m prone to forgetting tunes, such as Say Hello, Wave Goodbye (1982 Soft Cell hit).”
‘Sometimes, I’m knitted together,’ says Almond
“Music is continuously recreating itself.” People are remixing songs from prior times these days, which is something fresh. Is a new musical revolution on the horizon? There isn’t any.” Marc Almond, 61, has a four-decade music career and has earned the right to share his thoughts on a variety of topics. It is not lost on him that he is still alive to tell tales. In every sense of the term, he is a true survivor. He was in a near-fatal motorbike accident in 2004, which put him in a coma for weeks and left him with several fractures, compromised hearing, a collapsed lung, and major head trauma.
It took him more than two years to recover, and his short-term memory is still a problem 13 years later. Before the disaster, the electro-pop group Soft Cell had a lengthy history of songs about drugs, prostitution, s&m, and transvestites. Almond and his melodies had all they needed. “Sometimes I feel like I’m sewed together,” he says, his voice soft and northern English with a stutter, a relic of an unpleasant upbringing marred by cruelty by his father, a military man who was both drunk and homophobic.
Before he was a teenager, Almond realized he was gay. He recalls being intrigued as he saw risqué, ambiguous glam music stars like Marc Bolan and David Bowie on Top of the Pops, and secretly delighting in how such characters clearly irritated his parents. In 1981, Almond’s first commercial performance (as a member of Soft Cell, whose another member, Dave Ball, he had met while studying performance art at Leeds Polytechnic) sparked the same amount of controversy.
Almond – adorned with studded leather bracelets, a bohemian polo-neck, and an approachable twinkle in his kohl-lined eyes – drew equal measures of anti-gay commentary and call-to-arms admiration when they made their Top of the Pops debut with Tainted Love, a cover version of the well-known Northern Soul classic. The latter has outmaneuvered the former over the decades, but Almond’s solo career has carried the edginess that Soft Cell established with a string of hit songs and their first two albums – Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret (1981) and The Art of Falling Apart (1983).
Returning to the Beginning
He appears more aware of the passing years than other people his age and has been clean since the end of the 1990s from his dreadful dalliances with heavy narcotics (“that’s all behind me now,” he adds wearily but resolutely). It’s possible that’s why his latest album, Shadows, and Reflections, is a collection of cover versions that pays homage to the pop music he grew up listening to. “By the time I was six years old, I was watching every pop music show on television, including Thank Your Lucky Stars, Top of the Pops, Juke Box Jury, and Ready, Steady, Go.” My mind was imprinted with the entire pop genre – which was fairly vast back then.”
He waxes lyrical about this 1960s form of baroque orchestral pop. “It was pop music with string arrangements, fantastic singers, gloomy melodies, and incredibly serious subject matter,” says the author. I was too young to understand what the songs meant or were about at the time, but I remember watching all of the shows.” The Walker Brothers (whose essential member, Scott Walker, would profoundly impact Almond) and Gene Pitney (with whom Almond would work on 1989 worldwide hit single Something’s Gotten Hold of My Heart) were two pop music groups who left a lasting impression. He says, “That’s how it started for me.”
Almond had a difficult childhood, which was dominated by his father, an alcoholic salesperson. “Father saw you with your black eyes/Responded with a savage slap,” says the lyric in the autobiographical song Trials of Eyeliner. “I attempted suicide a few times when I was younger,” he recalls. “I was sectioned at the age of 17 after attempting suicide and having a mental breakdown. On other occasions, I’ve had close calls. But I’ve always had this desire to just go on with it in my life.”
Sense of his age
He claims to have felt all 61 years of his life and has recently acknowledged hating photoshoot close-ups. Nonetheless, he claims that a performer’s or “practitioner of pop music’s” age no longer matters as much as it once did. Almond inked a two-album deal with major label BMG last year. He claims that major companies are now increasingly interested in signing older musicians as a reflection of the times. He explains, “It’s because we have a catalog, a history, songwriting experience, and stagecraft.”
“The people that have that degree of consistent record sales are older musicians, and this appears to be a common occurrence.” Younger individuals are finding older musicians and music genres through streaming and downloading, which have most certainly inspired the bands they prefer. To be honest, it’s a lot broader range of music.” Almond is modest about his accomplishments, yet he is proud of them anyway. He comes across as a sweet man who is a little resentful of a past that blazed a little too brightly for him.
“With all my fears and everything else,” Almond responds, “I don’t loathe myself as much as I used to.” “I don’t believe I’m the awful guy I used to believe I was. Except for a few stupid decisions, I’m generally a good person. ‘I don’t think I’ve let you down too much,’ I remark, looking at the photo of myself as a sweet little five-year-old. I’m not sure who you are, but I don’t think I’ve disappointed you too much.'”
