UNLEASHING a liberal sprinkling of glamour and outrageous hairstyling to the 1980s pop scene made The Human League one of Sheffield’s finest exports.

Along with Martin Fry’s ABC they flew the flag for the northern contingent of New Romanticism with great panache.

But strangely enough it seems they never courted the fame that was thrust upon them with Don’t You Want Me Baby which was an instant number one on both sides of the Atlantic.

"People like us weren’t cut out to be pop stars. It’s funny that the core of the band never wanted to be famous," expained the group's flamboyant frontman Phil Oakley.

"We always thought that being a star was a bit silly. Perhaps that’s what’s kept us going and along the line we have become what people wanted us to be."

While he may not be sporting any gravity-defying quiffs these days, his love of all things musical, from seeking out old synthesisers to checking out the latest bands is as keen as ever.

Phil, who lives in Sheffield with his girlfriend Mia, seems well at ease with events as the band approaches its 30th anniversary.

Strangely enough their origins came from an unlikely source, two computer programmers – Martyn Ware and Ian Craig Marsh. They gleaned the group’s name from a sci-fi board game and enlisted their old school-mate Phil who was not working as a waiter in a cocktail bar, but rather as a hospital porter.

He was actually their second choice, joining them only after Glenn Gregory of Heaven 17 fame was unavailable.

"That hospital job was ok, though I often ended up doing 90 hours a week which earned me more than some of the gigs.

"I was just an extra to the band. But we were in a desperate state when Martyn and Ian left the group. Martyn had been good at a lot of the high parts in the songs which is why we ended up looking for girl singers to replace him.

"I didn’t feel up to going up to people randomly in a club and asking, so just handed out these pre-printed cards which is how we found Susanne and Joanne," added the 51-year-old with a laugh.

This stark change in line-up immediately bore fruit with the album Dare, which mixed dark-edge synths with some sexy disco beats to brilliant effect.

It was to win the appreciation of a generation of pop fans who were drawn to the glamour of New Romanticism. Bands such as Spandau Ballet, Adam and the Ants and Duran Duran became Top of the Pops favourites for with their bold sound and outlandish fashion statements.

"I am so glad that we were involved in all that and that other bands had dared to dress up before us- as we probably never would have done otherwise. It was a much braver time musically.

"I thought Dare was quite a sad and dark record and was a lot less rock based than our later stuff. I did really like Don’t You Want Me, though it was the start of a difficult time for us.

"Once you’ve had big success it is hard to keep it going. I remember when I heard it got to number one we had a massive row over what we would do next."

Though Phil later enjoyed a side-project, Electric Dreams with keyboard pioneer Georgio Moroder, it seemed the group had run out of creative energy by the end of the decade as the indie-rock scene headed by the likes of the Stone Roses began to emerge.

But against the odds they made a sublime 1990s return with a new record, Octopus, which sounded like a pristine time capsule straight out of the 1980s, packed full of potential chart hits.

"That’s what made the career for us. We were always a recording band and not really very good live. But when we had our comeback and a few more hits we started to believe that we were a proper band playing gigs and have been working on that side of things ever since.

"We’re really excited about doing the tour and the Margate show – I used to go to Kent quite a bit to see Vic Reeves who I am friends with and would see him down at his place near Tenterden."

Underlining just how much of a character Phil is, I enthusiastically explained I’d be going to catch them live for the first time. "I wouldn’t bother, we’re rubbish," he added with a wry chuckle. I think he’ll find that the sound of the crowd will quickly dispel that myth.

The Human Leauge play Margate Winter Gardens on Monday, November 27. Tickets £22.50. Box office 01843 296111.