For every singer who manages to keep a career going for decades, there are hundreds of flashes in the pan – people who get a one-hit-wonder in their teens or twenties, have a brief spurt of stardom, and then…<\/p>\n\n\n\n
…well, nothing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
What happens to them<\/em>?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nick Duerden at the Guardian <\/em>wondered the same thing, enough to write a book about it. The article abridged from it zooms past an array of “where are they now” artists<\/a> in a dizzying variety of genres, including one I’d been wondering about myself for a while, now:<\/p>\n\n\n\n In 1987, seemingly overnight, Terence Trent D\u2019Arby became the most arresting new pop star of his generation. To hear him sing songs such as If You Let Me Stay and Sign Your Name was to bear witness to the art of aural seduction; the knees buckled. He became terribly famous, terribly quickly. He was 25.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n