I Am Not The Beatles

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” Silence is golden, but you’re extra quiet…
Why don’t you shout or scream or… anything ?”

The Quiet Look - Thomas Wayne

The problem with total silence in love and relationships is that it doesn’t really say very much.

If you are the one instigating the silence then it is very easy to get all mixed up in the perceived profound enigmatic meaningfulness of it all, making you feel like you are starring in a black and white 50’s melodrama - forever staring into the middle distance through the steam of a nearby locomotive.

This perception however is a misperception – as if you ever got around to opening your big fat mouth and actually decided to ask the person on the receiving end of this nothingness precisely what they were getting out of the entire experience, then their answer would be ‘Pretty much fuck all to be honest’.

For silence, by its very nature, is impossible to interact with. Indeed, some would argue that by facing complete and utter silence it only makes for an increased likelihood that the person inflicted by it will go ahead and repeat the actions that possibly made you go all silent in the first place. This is however just a supposition of course, as the silence isn’t telling anybody anything, not even something remotely helpful such as ‘Will you please stop doing that, it’s really bloody annoying.’

The best way to deal with silence is to treat it as that most wonderful invention of popular music, the gap – after all we all love a good gap don’t we? And the reason we love them is that a gap isn’t silence per se, but merely a quiet bit that occurs between two other reasonably closely placed noisier bits, giving the pause context and thus turning it into a contemplative mouth watering moment to savour – but, importantly, only because you are safe in the knowledge that it isn’t going to go on forever.

If viewed in this way the silence can, like many mornings before it, finally be broken and in its place will stand the admittedly terrifying but ultimately wondrous joy of flawed human interaction. In short, in the same way that all the best musical gaps are bridged by our expectations of the music to come, we must bridge our own gaps with the hope of conversation to come - and we can only do this with an open heart of love, fear and trust so that our emotions can move on, be resolved or sadly ended.

With all of this in mind, Falco’s decision to start the very first line of his very first verse with the slightly defeatist words ‘What else is there to say? We’ve seen it all before…’ may seem initially foolhardy. It is however, a masterstroke – as this song is fucking superb.

Errr… Are You Sure ?

This fact may seem hard to grasp as the intro kicks in with Falco stutteringly informing you that he is indeed ’so emo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo motional’ in the manner of a man with Tourettes forever on the brink of screaming motherfucking into your ever shocked face, and then immediately following this with a backing singer overemoting a ‘yeah yeah yeah‘ to such a degree that you may fear for both

a) your sanity, and

b) the apparent imminent onslaught of a late career George Michael schmaltzfest.

However, if you can make it beyond this point you soon realise that with Emotional Falco has realised that just by writing this song the silence which he is experiencing will be broken, and the gap that is now his past be created. The verses then don’t really say very much at all in their strange broken English - after all, what else is there truly to say? We’ve seen it all before. It is a story, as Morrissey once said, that goes on -  but in actuality they are cleverly created to replicate those moments when you too in similar circumstances mutter drunkenly to yourself during those long dark lonely nights. When you too say things all too disturbingly similar and equally nonsensical to yourself - if only you were ever stupid enough to record them and play them back in the cold light of day like Falco did.

At least I say that he is speaking in broken English, but this a hope more than anything from certain knowledge – as if his wording is 100% accurate then when he says ‘I know there isn’t a woman being born who can take me as I am…’ he is setting the age limit for any possible future lovers at a shockingly low level.

What Happens Next ?

After quietly talking to himself for a few moments, and still receiving no response from the cold empty house that surrounds him, Falco senses that if there really is nothing more to say… then all he can do is feel and thus flies into the alcoholic self obsessed rage of the chorus - before finally reaching his crescendo where, tired and emotional he breaks down and criiiiiiiiiiies. This is the relief, the plateau of both the song and his emotions… the moment where you cry so much you fear may vomit – but God do you need to express it.

‘ Been That ! Been That ! Done That! ‘

Haven’t we all - and interestingly, this incredibly accurate portrayal of the feelings of lost love all then happens again. And again. And again – so Emotional is thus in essence a musical expression of the cyclic nature of post relationship grief itself.

Indeed, if you have just coincidentally lost that incredibly beautiful and astounding person who you fell worryingly in love with recently, then your heart may well jump when you hear Falco announce that he had ‘my the woman right here, I had her in the palm of my hand’ with ever increasing shriekiness and increasingly poignant nonsensical words shoved after it, then it may be sadly broken when at four minutes he screams ‘HE’S GOT TEARS IN HIS EYES’ whilst worryingly referring to himself in the third person, and it may finally stop entirely when - noticing that this song is in fact only him breaking his own internal silence, and that he is still totally and utterly and profoundly alone – he does Thomas Wayne proud and shouts and screams and… everythings ‘CMON! CMON! CMON!’ relentlessly during the outro at his stupid stupid self in the mirror, surveying a man who has lost everything but is still confoundingly in love with a person who really couldn’t give a fuck about him either way.

Astoundingly brilliant.

Where Is Falco Now ?

He died young.

He died alone.

Killed. In a car accident.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Falco_(musician)

http://www.falco.at/

Errr… That News Has Made Me Quite Emotional…

Quite right too, as if you forget about all that Rock Me Amadeus nonsense – a song which, if we’re being honest rather than ironic, frankly hasn’t aged well – you will very quickly note that Falco was, without a doubt, a bit of a pop genius.

Don’t believe me? Try this – it is one of the songs on the other record in this double pack, is called Ganz Wein and not only does it overuse one of those fantastic drums that goes Booo! to within an inch of it’s Booo!ey life, it also contains some Da Na Na Na’s even Sudden Sway would find hard to replicate so succinctly, and soon erupts into a collision of utter chaos and silly over the top shouting.

Fabulous or what?

If you enjoyed that then I would recommend you go away and track down The Final Curtain – his Best Of – like I just have, as incredibly that isn’t even the best song on there… but it’s not cheap, I warn you now:

http://www.cduniverse.com/search/xx/music/pid/1246924/a/Final+Curtain-Ultimate.htm

What’s That Quote From Thomas Wayne All About ?

It is from a song culled from a brilliant 3 CD set of 50’s Teen Angst Classics called Midnight Cryin’ Time - all of course precursors for Emotional itself - and it is definitely worth your money too:

http://www.amazon.com/Midnight-Cryin-Time/dp/B000089HCN

Want to hear the song ?

Tell Me About Thomas…

All I can say is that up until 5 minutes ago I knew absolutely nothing about him at all - but he has just very successfully spooked the living hell out of me. Why?

He also died young.

He also died alone.

Killed. In a car accident.

So… both Falco’s and Thomas’s stories of searching for a personal peace during the disturbingly brief spell we have on this planet are, it turns out, terrifically sadly interlinked and shockingly cut short - a Tragedy you could say :

http://tinyurl.com/cr7bs7

Money Update

Cost : 8 pence
Current Value : 3 pounds and fifty pence.  A nice price, but not enough to take my mind off that not particularly cheerful resolution. Why not go and listen to the best gap we have on here to make you smile again - the sensational Breakin’ Up Breakin’ Down.
Current Profit : 223 pounds and 24 pence. It’s been… emotional.

  

Click above for big pictures, click below to play me…

Basements are, by their very nature, always situated downstairs - and Biba’s Basement is no different in this regard, located as it is bang slap between Biba’s legs.

Biba’s Pet Name For Her Vagina… Is Her Basement ?

Biba’s personal referencing system for her own genitalia is sadly unrecorded, but it seems Ken Foreman - the lead singer of Thrashing Doves - certainly likes to view it in that way. Unfortunately however with this song Ken also wishes to voice his displeasure concerning the general overall state of Biba’s Basement, as when he popped down there recently to check that it was all still watertight… he found something ticking.

Ticking ?

Yes - and he isn’t referring to the watch he accidentally left behind the curtains on his previous visit either, as he appears to be using the word ticking in what posh linguists would describe as the present participle ie Biba’s Basement… is covered in ticks.

Ugh.

Don’t panic though as Ken is clearly on the case and after a brief investigation is currently laying the blame for this ticking squarely, if not necessarily entirely fairly, on the fact that Biba’s Basement has a Persian rug outside it’s door.

Errr… Isn’t That A Perfectly Natural Look For A Vagina ?

In my strictly limited experience, yes – but it doesn’t appear to be to Kens taste at all.

Anyway, in a desperate attempt to gain control of the situation he has just tried smoking the ticks out of Biba’s rug, but that made no real difference to the overall basement. In fact, so bad is the infestation that he is currently rather candidly advising Biba she may well want to consider getting some sort of a replacement.

Rug ?

Basement.

Now, I want to state plainly here that I don’t think such a transplant is either particularly viable or especially necessary either but - whatever the rights and wrongs of the situation - it’s too late now… as if you take a look at the front cover Biba is already

a) under sedation

b) mid operation, and

c) having her right breast groped by the surgeon who apparently just can’t help himself.

The big perve.

Hmmm… I don’t trust this lead singer of Thrashing Doves at all – we met previously you see about a year ago, and in that instance he was found to be rather arrogantly withholding some vital truths of the situation within which he found himself, and as a result made me look rather stupid.

Well, that tendency to lie hasn’t really changed I’m afraid. Just listen to the end of the second verse for example, where he rather stupidly tries to convince us that Guy Fawkes was a close personal acquaintance of his - which would make Ken at least 402 years old, the silly bugger.

Perhaps He Meant To Say Guy Ritchie ?

Guy Ritchie ? Why on earth would the lead singer of Thrashing Doves possibly be a friend of Guy Ritchie ?

Well, towards the end of this song I note that Ken claims to have also recently visited the basement belonging to Guy’s soon to be ex-wife, Madonna – so it could be that Guy had coincidentally popped down to her basement to start collecting his stuff at the same time that Ken was there.

That would certainly make Madonna’s basement a tad overcrowded wouldn’t it ? Anyway, I think you’ve probably misheard a rather key lyric here, as Ken doesn’t refer to Maddies basement – but Maggie’s Basement.

As in Margaret Thatcher.

Fucking hell. Ken has been rooting around Margaret Thatcher’s basement as well ?

I am afraid that when it comes to basements… our Ken isn’t really that picky.

What’s more, in a coincidence which is all too rather revealing, once he got down there he found Margaret Thatcher’s basement to be bloody well ticking too… so, just like Biba, he has advised her to get a replacement.

The Sick. Fucking. Bastard.

It is, I must admit, a bit of a coincidence that of the two basements most recently visited by Ken both were found to be ticking. As such it is becoming increasingly obvious to me that Ken is the sick man infected with the genital ticks - and he is consciously, purposefully and maliciously spreading them around any old basement he can get his hands on before then using his camp powers of persuasion to force himself onto his victims and carry out some totally unnecessary vaginal replacement surgery.

Then, if that wasn’t enough, he also cops a quick feel of their breasts and takes a photograph as some sort of a ’souvenir’.

This man needs help.

Fast.

Would Margaret Thatcher Ever Get Her Revenge On Thrashing Doves For This Sleight On Her Vaginal Health ?

Yes – she would mercilessly and unrelentingly bring down their entire fucking career at the exact moment their next single was released.

We have, as I say, met Thrashing Doves here before with their previous effort Matchstick Flotilla. So, if you don’t know the full story of how Margaret Thatcher Got Her Own Back – or even if you just want to read a famous tale you already know of but this time with the phrase ‘they were totally fucked’ as part of the narrative – then click here:

http://www.iamnotthebeatles.com/?p=89

Incidentally, the link above also details what all the members are up to these days – although we did miss out one by mistake :

http://www.iamnotthebeatles.com/?page_id=318

Just How Camp Is Ken’s Performance?

Very.

In fact,I have just held my ever trusty campometer (otherwise known as my left ear) up to the speaker and it currently claims that this vocal for Biba’s Basement is a rather astounding 147 times more camp than the 4 minute mincefest that is Matchstick Flotilla - as this time Ken seems doubly incapable of refraining himself from ooohing and aaahing all over the place making this song sound not unlike Alan Carr : The Musical.

The best bit though is the intro :

“One, two… one two three PHWOARRRR…” it all begins as if Ken is touching himself whilst looking at a photograph of the slightly tearful remaining members of Take That just after Robbie Williams had left – with both his Phwoarrrr and his passion obviously reserved for Mark Owen.

Is Ken As Camp As His Singing Would Suggest ?

You can find out for yourself if you like, by watching the video :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUUoLFnBagk

Sorry, I Can’t Be Bothered To Do That… Can’t You Just Tell Me ?

Ok - the answer is ‘No… But.’

With the ‘but’ bit being the fact that every single ounce of camp floating around in the known universe appears to have been distilled into Ken’s right leg which is the campest right leg I have ever set my eyes on… but the rest of him, oddly, remains totally unaffected.

Which is all a bit unsettling to be honest.

Money Update

Cost : 8 pence. Want to find out more about Thrashing Doves ? http://www.thrashingdoves.co.uk/html/press_archive.html

Current Value : 2 pounds and 34 pence… which is 1 pound and 4 pence less than their previous effort. Incidentally, if you are the owner of a basement which is unfortunately ticking you may want to get one of these : http://www.lymediseaseaction.org.uk/information/tick_removal.htm

Current Profit : 205 pounds and 83 pence. The box… is ticked.

Supporting Cast Update : Winton, Dale; Carr, Allan; Owen, Mark; William, Robbie

Click above for big pictures, click below to play me…

Patrick Kane would really rather prefer it if you didn’t call him a mother.

As in motherfucker ?

No… as in mum.

So it’s OK for me to call Patrick Kane a motherfucker ?

Well, he doesn’t specifically rule against it - but I warn you now, your desire to describe Patrick in such interfamilial shaggy terms is what an old female friend of mine describes as permission by omission and, as such, reminds me of both her and the copious amounts of anal sex she has indulged in.

I beg your pardon ?

Anal sex. It means ‘up the bum’.

Yes, I understand that - but what the hell are you talking about ?

My friend was, shall we say, put in a difficult position - as she

a) Was deeply religious, and
b) Desperately wanted to have sex.

Not believing these two seemingly completely opposing facts to be entirely irreconcilable, she carried out a thorough reading of all the relevant Bible passages. This research showed that penetrative vaginal sex was definitely, and rather obviously, frowned upon by God and was therefore immediately ruled out… and it was also noted by her that anal sex between two men was similarly outlawed.

It was at this point though that she spotted the loophole she wished to exploit, as absolutely no reference whatsoever is made in The Bible to the very specific subject of anal sex between a man and a woman. Indeed, the very possibility of such congress doesn’t even seem to enter into God’s otherwise omnipresent, and therefore at least partly filthy, mind.

Making the reasonably fair assumption that if God felt it not worth mentioning in his own book then he probably wasn’t really that bothered about the situation anyway, she immediately granted herself permission by omission… and spent her single days having her bible merrily bashed by all and sundry.

When she told me this a few years ago and I suggested that it certainly seemed possible to me that her interpretation of God’s words - or, indeed, the complete lack of them - wasn’t perhaps entirely as He had intended them to be understood, she cryptically replied

“God doesn’t ever come into it.“

Which certainly seemed, I suppose, at least physically true at the time even if I, unlike her, wasn’t entirely sure how to take it.

What a fucking warped story.

Well, this is one fucking warped record.

In what way ?

The record. It’s physically warped - it is, essentially, buggered.

If the record is warped as you claim, how am I managing to hear I Refuse at this very moment ?

Well, luckily for you, Hue and Cry obviously foresaw the precarious nature of long term vinyl warpage and therefore very helpfully provided a much more forward thinking format - a free cassette - to go with this record, so it is the version of I Refuse from the cassette which is featured here.

It’s a cassingle ! How exciting !

It certainly is… and it certainly is.

No matter how exciting this turn of events is, however, the downside of being forced to use the cassingle is that it only has the extended version of I Refuse upon it… and, as you are no doubt already discovering, this does rather unfortunately mean you have to sit through a ludicriously long intro before anyone utters a single bloody word - let alone starts to refuse to do anything.

So what exactly are Hue and Cry refusing to do ?

In their endlessly brave and perhaps ultimately foolhardy fight against The Power Of The Sexual Stereotype, Patrick and his brother Gregory (the keyboard player and co-songwriter) have decided not to have any children and never join the armed forces. This heroic stance means neither of them will ever be either a Sweet Madonna or a Pistol Packin’ Son right up until the moment they apparently die - although from that moment on, as Graham Parker discovered, everything will be pretty much up for grabs.

It is worth noting here that as a title I Refuse is a bit of a misnomer, as whenever Patrick sings those two seemingly simple words what he really means is : We Should All Refuse, Can’t You See ? It’s Bloody Obvious. This not exactly subtle Brechtian didacticism means he is actually telling all of us not to get our eggs fertilised and all of us never to enrol as a soldier.

Ultimately however, Patrick’s Egg and Soldier argument is rather overcomplicating matters as pure logic dictates that if we really do all stop having children then all war will undoubtedly end pretty darn quickly, because there would be absolutely no army to join for the very good reason our species has just ceased to exist - and this does perhaps seem like a short lived and rather trivial victory.

What’s the best bit ?

I quite like gaps and - after you sit through all the excitement of a camp and nonsensical middle eight - there is a particularly fine example of The Gapper’s craft.

Indeed, if you listen very closely you can actually hear the sound of a bra being burnt within it and absolutely nobody getting shot whatsoever.

It is a beautiful moment.

Do Hue And Cry Really Deny Inhibition ?

Gregory doesn’t seem to, as he doesn’t even has his own website - and this is surely about as inhibited as it is possible to be these days. Even his wikipedia entry is just one sentence long, so we will presume he is The Shy One of the two.

Patrick, however, most definitely does Deny Inhibition - for example he was Rector of The University of Glasgow for three years, only to be succeeded by… errr… Johnny Ball :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pat_Kane

He is also very proud of his book, The Play Ethic - and has even referred to himself as a creative and organisational consultant with regards to it :

http://www.theplayethic.com

Don’t forget to go and say hello, he seems very nice :

http://www.patkane.com

What is The Play Ethic ?

http://www.theplayethic.com/images/Scotland_on_Sunday_piece_on_PE.doc

Can’t be bothered to read that but want a brief I Am Not The Beatles summation ? Ok, here’s an attempt :

75% of the workforce in industrialised nations do repetitive (not necessarily manual) tasks which will eventually be done by modern technology. Rather than frowning upon this by dwelling upon our imminent mass unemployment as a bad thing and pointlessly trying to find people other work to do (as there won’t actually be any other ‘work’ to do in the traditional sense of the word), we should accept this as a matter of fact of our evolution. As such, we should use this as an opportunity to be more creative and play more - not hedonistically and individually, but as communities. If we do not accept this realignment of both the human condition and the way communities will now be forced interract with each other… we may very well end up, frankly, dead.

Which, although ludicrously easy to take the piss out of, is actually quite an interesting point.

Gosh. Do Hue and Cry Really Escape Definition ?

Absolutely not.

Some like them, some hate them but everyone seems to have an opinion. My favourite review of them is over at Amazon and is written by a chap called Kenny, concerning their Greatest Hits CD :

“Buy it,” he states menacingly… “make yourself a better person“.

And I suppose if you did happen to buy it, and then played it - not hedonistically to yourself of course you selfish bastard, but with your whole community also able to participate in the hearing of it… becoming a better person may actually happen for everyone involved.

Either that, or your next door neighbours will be knocking seven shades of shit out of your adjoining wall demanding you turn that fucking racket down before they call the police.

There’s Been Something Bothering Me About Patrick Kane For Years… Did He Ever Actually Find Linda ? Sometimes I Lie Awake At Night Fraught With Worry About This. Can You Help ?

Yes I can.

When they played Looking For Linda live Hue and Cry apparently sometimes added in an extra verse towards the end which explained that, yes, Linda was eventually found after much of that aforementioned looking and that, yes, she was essentially fine all things considered.

They never released this version of the song as a single however, so you would have to be a pretty hardcore Hue and Cry fan to have discovered this vital piece of Linda related information - and if you weren’t, well…. you may well have been left on tenterhooks for the rest of your natural life.

Hang on… Patrick Kane knew ? And he never told me ?

Errr…. yes.

The Motherfucker.

Money Update

Cost : 8 pence

Current Value : I never stopped looking… but I never found anything. I am not saying it’s worth absolutely nothing, but I can find absolutely nobody who is selling one. The rules then very sadly clearly state this is A Refusal and I must record…. a very disappointing minus 8 pence, which I am neither satisfied nor pseudo satisfied about. Incidentally, some of you may recall I Refuse reaching the lower echelons of the top 40 - but that was actually a re-recorded and utterly different version 2 years later. The one here was apparently Hue and Cry’s first major single and got pretty much nowhere. Want to watch the video ? If nothing else it lets me say ‘Look At Our Tints’ again :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pyFURJFv6Bw

Current Profit : Easy ? I knew it was never gonna be easy… but not this hard : 186 pounds and 41 pence. Oh well, want to watch Labour Of Love in the company of lots of mysteriously floating blocks of wood ?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9gxMvb9VrzY

And finally, are you interested in what Hue and Cry are up to now? They have done jazz, some notjazz and some err… drum and bass since you last probably looked. There are even wild(ish) rumours of a new album in 2008…

http://www.hueandcry.co.uk

Supporting Cast Update : Brecht, Bertolt ; Ball, Johnny

Click above for big pictures, click below to play me…

* Official I Am Not The Beatles Warning : This article requires you to do some actual jumping, so please clear an area next to your computer in line with all Health and Safety directives before proceeding. Thank you. *

Jumping

Jumping is brilliant.

Everybody likes a good jump.

It is a shame then that as we get inevitably older, occasions within which jumping would be a socially acceptable thing to do sadly start to diminish. In fact, the more immersed we become in the relentless gravity of everyday adult existence, our lives can become essentially jumpless.

If you went back in time and told your eight year old ever bouncing self that by the time you were as old as you are now you would never be doing any jumping around at all, they would look at you like you were totally bonkers. Before we go any further then, let us rectify this situation immediately and… have a quick jump around.

Come on, what are you waiting for - get yourself off that chair and jump in the air you miserable bugger… I absolutely promise that it will make you smile…

Ooooh, actually, if you do what I just did and also combine the jump with a childish ‘Wheeee!’ sound at the same time - it might even make you giggle.

There… feel better ?

Of course you do - because jumping is brilliant.

Jumping Songs

Jumping songs are almost as good as jumping itself – this comes with the very important caveat that they need to give you the precise reason why they want you to jump, and then repeat it excessively throughout. It doesn’t matter if the Jumping Reason given doesn’t really stand up to close scrutiny in the cold light of day - nobody will notice because they will be too busy having fun jumping around to care – but it is important that you state the reason and repeat it.

Alot.

Good Reasons To Jump

In their song Jump, The Pointer Sisters show themselves to be sexually obsessed jump fetishists, telling you to jump for their ‘love’. So obsessed are they in fact, that if they had been in the room 30 seconds ago and caught you jumping up and down going ‘Wheee!’ next to your computer, it would have been the best bouncy porn they’d have seen all year. As a reward, you would have been on the receiving end of not just that aforementioned ‘love’ but also their ‘kisses in the night’ – which seems like a rather good trade doesn’t it ?

Bad Reasons To Jump

Jump by Van Halen is an example of bored rockers jumping for an uncaring generation – telling you to jump for the rather uninspiring reason that, well, ‘You might as well.’

This can make it feel less of a jump, and more of a trip hazard.

Very Bad Reasons To Jump

Count Basie’s Do You Want To Jump Children? asks a question in definite need of rephrasing or – at the very least – the luxurious addition of a well placed comma situated somewhere upon it’s person.

The sick bastard.

How Does Jump To It Fare ?

It all starts rather well as it gives you a reason to have a quick jump within the first 20 seconds, which is nice – telling us we should Jump To It if we say a question we want to know the answer to. Luckily I did have a question, and I said it… so I jumped.

Good For You. What Was Your Question ?

I wanted to know if that really is Jon Moss on the front cover.

Is It ?

Apparently, yes.

From hereon in, however, it all starts to go horribly wrong as – just when you’re learning where those Jump To It’s should theoretically be occurring (which is, rather excitingly, just about every other line) - Heartbeat UK start messing with the formula and shout things at those points other than Jump To It. If like me you have been jumping around to this song in the live environment, you will already know that this can lead to jump confusion leading on to the strong suspicion that Heartbeat UK aren’t really that keen on jumping at all.

In the second verse, for example, it says I shouldn’t ever forget that my heartbeat’s keeping a rhythm. I hadn’t forgotten this so I jumped, only to hear the band then shout Pump To It rather than Jump To It when I was already midair – which made me feel really silly as I was now jumping totally unnecessarily. Fortunately this happened on my own in the living room with the curtains pulled so nobody noticed, but imagine if I had done that in a nightclub – I’d be forced to leave out of embarrassment.

It was at this point I really wished I’d listened to what my mama used to say.

What Did Your Mama Used To Say ?

Junior’s mama used to tell him to take his time young man, which is spectacularly good advice in the right situation – such as being the centre of attention of The Pointer Sisters’ kisses in the night, for example. Meanwhile, my mama used to say ‘never trust anybody who tells you Cross my heart I’m not leading you on, particularly if they say it at the end of the verses just before the bridge to the chorus.’

Unfortunately, by the time I had remembered this rather specific piece of parental advice, I had already got carried away with the overexcitement of it all.

Do You Like Jump To It ?

I don’t dislike it but it is, I am afraid, a tad disappointing - as by the end your initial suspicions are confirmed when you come to the realisation that the main repeated line is in fact ‘I want this forever, I want this for life…’ which is actually all about replacing one status quo with another, and is about as far away from the adventurous anarchic spirit of jumping all over the place it is possible to get.

Is This The Most Misleading So-Called Jumping Song You’ve Ever Heard ?

Absolutely not. The Sultans Of Ping’s Where’s Me Jumper ? wasn’t exactly as advertised either.

I Have A Fetish For Slightly Shit Orchestra Hits. Will This Help ?

It certainly will. Depending upon how this fetish manifests itself, you may well find yourself totally unexpectedly orgasming into your rather surprised pants somewhere around 2 minutes and 35 seconds - which really will make you jump, I assure you.

Who Are Heartbeat UK ?

The aforementioned obviously lovely Jon Moss fresh from telling us how stupid war is in Culture Club, ex-Roman Holliday vocalist Steve Lambert who really doesn’t want you to even think about stopping it - plus two sadly currently unidentified others.

Could Their Record Cover Actually Be Any More Gay ?

No.

I’ve tried everything from imaginatively hanging some gladioli from their audaciously pert snow-washed denim bottoms, to dreaming they are all about to recreate that Take That video and suggestively cover their buttocks with raspberry jelly instead - but none of it worked.

Seeing as it has been scientifically proven that any room on this earth immediately becomes 10% more camp just by me walking through it’s doorway, this is a superb achievement for Heartbeat UK and must not be underestimated.

Where Are Steve and Jon Now ?

Jon plays in a number of bands these days, and recently also played drums on the charity single ‘People I Don’t Know Are Trying To Kill Me’ whose profits went to help the families of those affected by the tube and bus bombs in London :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jon_Moss

Meanwhile Steve was obviously getting bored by the endless stream of emails begging him to reform Roman Holliday, so… he reformed them for a special one off show in 2001 :

http://www.romanholliday.co.uk/

He does have his own website, but at the time of writing it is ‘under reconstruction’ with a nice picture of some dancing horses being it’s only feature, so here is a nice interview with Steve telling us that shit, has indeed, happened - and this is the CD he’s on about.

Incidentally, Roman Holliday’s guitarist - Brainy Brian - is now professor of Russian History at Youngstown State University :

http://brianbonhomme.freeservers.com/

Gosh. What Was Heartbeat UK’s Profound Influence On The Pet Shop Boys ?

‘Profound’ is perhaps too strong a word for it but - for reasons I still cannot entirely fathom - the Pet Shop Boys changed the name of their lovely number one hit song Heartbeat …to Heart just because Heartbeat UK existed :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heart_(Pet_Shop_Boys_song)

Which is odd.

Money Update

Cost : 8 pence

Current Value : Good God… Original acetate - 112 pounds and 90 pence. Bloody Hell… Most expensive vinyl- 28 pounds and 33 pence. Cheapest Vinyl… 2 pounds and 9 pence. Ah, that’s better.

Current Profit : 165 pounds and 39 pence. After releasing just one song… Heartbeat UK sadly disbanded. Oh well, want to watch the video ? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwncUdFBxY4

Supporting Cast Update : Pointer Sisters, The ; Van Halen ; Count Basie ; The Sultans Of Ping ; Take That ; Culture Club ; Junior

Click above for big pictures, click below to play me…

Thomas Leer Likes You Alot

Really ? How nice. I must have made quite a first impression as I hardly know the man.

You Certainly Did. In Fact, Despite The Brevity Of Your Current Aquaintance, He Wants To Tell You That He Rates You As A Number One

Gosh. How sweet. What’s the scale ?

I Beg Your Pardon ?

The scale. If one is presumably the highest score I could possibly get from the obviously lovable Thomas, what would be the lowest ? Am I, for example, in his ever sultry eyes… one a million ?

Errr… No.

What then ?

Ten.

I am number one on a scale of ten ?

Yes… Are You Having Fun ?

Well I was until you came along and ruined it with the details of Thomas’ totally ridiculous scoring system. It’s a fucking insult.

I Think You’ll Find He Was Trying To Be Nice…

Trying to be nice ? That’s almost as bad an excuse as only following orders in my book. Nope, you can go back to your good friend Thomas and tell him that he can try to be nice all he bloody well likes, but perhaps he should attempt to go that one tiny step further and actually be nice.

Sorry, Can You Calm Down Please ?

You’re trying to matchmake me with a man who finds it morally acceptable to squeeze the entire sprawling mass of individuals that make up the human race into an overpopulated and totally degrading scale of ten, and you’re asking me to calm down ?

I would be fascinated to watch Thomas attempt to justify the warped rationale he uses to differentiate between people he has marked down as a one and a two, let alone a one and ten - because there are going to be some pretty diverse individuals all branded together into his rather pathetic narrow world view, don’t you think ?

If I - presumably for reasons of excellent bone structure - have been marked as a one for example, where does Mother Theresa sit ? Or Gandhi ?

Most worryingly, I must also presume that Thomas has marked The Real Cunts Of The World Who Did Things Like Murder People with the lowest score possible. Whilst this obviously isn’t an incorrect thing to do, it does mean that as far as he is concerned :

I am only ten points away from Hitler.

I Suppose You Have A Point…

Thank you.

Now, how do I get off this pathetic list ? I want nothing to do with it.

I Don’t Think You Can Get Off The List - It’s Just Like The Masons and Facebook. ie Once You’re A Member You Can Never Actually Leave…

The total fucker.

Song Any Good ?

Despite Thomas’ slightly worrying number fascism, this record really is quite incredibly fabulous.

It’s rather like being on the receiving end of a particularly satisfying all body massage from Sade.

In drag.

Does Thomas Leer ?

In 1978 Thomas recorded the whispered vocals of a song as his girlfriend slept merrily in the next room of his flat in Port Glasgow, Scotland, called it Private Plane and released it on his own label. Over the coming months it went on to sell over five and half thousand copies, is cited by Matt Johnson as the reason why he was inspired to start The The, and is generally regarded as a bit of a lost classic.

The rave reviews when Private Plane was released hailed it as pop masterpiece of the new electronic era where synthesisers would be king. Ironically though Thomas couldn’t actually afford a synth at the time, so all those hi-tech wibbles are in fact just a guitar and a bass run through craploads of effect pedals.

Want to hear it ?

Now, this older record is all very well - and is making me feel oh so breathlessly retrotrendy - but lets face it, the Thomas Leer of No.1 sounds like a smokey man you’d happily turn your body into a receptacle for, whilst the Thomas Leer of Private Plane sounds like that teenage boy you’ve been desperately trying to avoid for the very good reason he has one too many piles of used Kleenex badly hidden beneath his bed.

After the success of Private Plane Thomas released a few more records independently before eventually signing to the major label Arista. It appears that, despite my moral misgivings, Thomas was very proud of his socially divisive experimenting, and ultimately highlighted it by unapologetically calling the album this song comes from… The Scale Of Ten.

‘The past response has been rubbish… It’s down to the radio play I wasn’t getting… I am fed up with being a cult… I don’t see anything wrong with being successful…’ he said at the time.

‘<I did it to> subvert the mainstream from the inside‘ - he said a few years later after leaving Arista having sold no records, and signing with ZTT to form a band called Act with Claudia Brücken from Propaganda :

http://www.zttaat.com/search.php?search=thomas+leer

Not long after this Thomas was obviously having a very bad day as one second he was in the midst of legal wrangles trying (and failing) to clear an Abba sample for one of Act’s songs - and the next he suddenly got a bit flustered, decided everything was crap and disappeared for 15 years.

You will be relieved to know though that he is now back.

Take a look :

http://www.thomasleer.co.uk/

Is Thomas Leer Really A Total Fucker ?

Of course not.

His website above contains a few free downloads for us to all to listen to, and this obviously makes him utterly lovely. In fact he is so lovely that I have decided to forgive him for our initial disagreement, and - just like he did 23 years ago - would like to publicly announce to the world that on a scale of ten…

I’d give him one.

Money Update

Cost : 8 pence

Current Value : Some people want 15 pounds - whilst others want 1 pound and 17 pence, which is 2 tiny pence more than Rupert Everett. Just like the sales of this record then, it’s disappointing.

Current Profit : 163 pounds and 38 pence. Our number’s are definitely up, but the ship has totally failed to come in.

Supporting Cast Update : The The ; Brücken, Claudia; Bojaxhui, Agnes Gonxha (Mother Theresa) ; Gandhi, Mohandas Karamchand (Gandhi… err, obviously); Abba