I Am Not The Beatles

 

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

“Desire is experienced as a gift : we privilege people with
our desire for them, though they don’t always recognise
quite what an honour they are being given.”

Adam Phillips - Terrors and Experts

Love can be many things : a battlefield, a losing game, a many splendoured thing. But - no matter what your personal opinion of love may be at this present moment - one thing it always is, is a transaction.

Taking this undeniable fact to its logical conclusion and using a bit of lateral thinking, Stylistics thus wish to make a suggestion designed to help us all during these tough financial times. Instead of giving out money to get the stuff you desire they say, why not give a little love instead?

What A Lovely Idea !

It certainly is.

Unfortunately - rather like your first visit to the prize booth after using the shoddy ticket / reward system employed by amusement arcades on many of Britain’s piers - the range of products actually available in exchange for your love is disappointingly limited.

Indeed some may suggest that the aforementioned pier system is vastly superior to this lovely suggestion, as at least with that you can walk away with something concrete you didn’t have before you went in - even if

a) it is a dusty Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles plastic key ring, which
b) cost you nigh on twenty quid - playing as you were on an endless series of shitty fruit machines in order to get enough tokens to acquire it in the first place.

Please be warned then that if you choose to use Stylistics latter method no plastic key rings are available, and that only yet more love can be traded in return for your initial little love outlay.

So I Can’t Give A Little Love For Oven Chips ?

Much though I would love to say that the freezer section in Sainsburys now recognises a little love as legal tender, I am afraid that the answer is no - which of course makes the idea behind this song less of a transaction… and more of a straight swap.

What A Shame… I’m Right Out Of Oven Chips.

On the plus side though there does seem to be an inflationary bonus attached, as you only have to give a little love to Stylistics in order to immediately have the much bigger and better bona fide full on intense why don’t we move in together love thrown right back in your face.

And although this is admittedly enough to scare just about anybody off who was only making a tentative enquiry, what with all the emotional trauma I’ve gone through with Falco recently the idea of anybody loving me these days certainly makes a nice change.

What’s The Song Like ?

Like a mobility scooter on a motorway : dangerously slow.

Indeed, so ponderously does the lead singer express himself to his beloved over the most unhurried backing track in existence, at some points you may well fear the whole thing is about to shudder to a complete halt and start playing itself backwards.

Where Are Those Lovely Stylistics Now ?

This is a tricky question to answer as first of all this seems to be the only release by the band which, presumably for some legal reasons involving people leaving, was released with no ‘The’ as part of the band name - and secondly because a bit like all that silliness which once afflicted Beggar & Co - there are now actually two bands vaguely bickering over which is the real one.

In one corner we have Russell Thompkins Jr. - an original member of The Stylistics who formed in 1968 and had massive hits such as You Make Me Feel Brand New - now singing alongside three other chaps who were also in The Stylistics and Stylistics at some point (although not necessarily at the same time as Russell) who call themselves The New Stylistics.

Whilst elsewhere we also have another original member called Airrion Love singing alongside three other chaps who may or may not have been in The Stylistics or indeed Stylistics at any point at all… yet performing in a band called The Stylistics.

Confused ? You will be :

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

Do Stylistics Give Love A Bad Name ?

No.

The same cannot be said for the website below however - as it is asking you to share the most intimate private moments of your utterly personal emotional and spiritual experiences of love… in exchange for a sample of some shitty perfume :

http://www.philosophygiveslove.com

Does Anyone Give Oven Chips A Bad Name ?

Yes - Jamie Oliver.

As apparently, when he was doing all that DON’T KILL THE CHILDREN nonsense a few years back, the sales of oven chips in supermarkets plummeted as a direct result. Luckily however, a company called Elmwood were on hand to charge McCain a pretty healthy £40,000 in order to draw some new pictures onto a plastic bag and thus - theoretically - save their frozen arses from collapsing :

http://tinyurl.com/psw8b4

http://www.elmwood.com/flash/?#/home/

Yes, it seems they utterly transformed the product - but only… stylistically.

Money Update

Cost : I give a little 8 pence
Current Value : for 2 pounds and 23 pence in return.
Current Profit : Gosh - 335 pounds and 75 pence. Which has made me rather chippy.

Want to hear You Make Me Feel Brand New - which apparently uniquely for a (The) Stylistics record has both Russell and Airrion singing on it - with the addition of some words scrolling annoyingly along the bottom ?

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

Like the annoying scrolling words but can’t stand the voices ?

http://ronansonlinekaraoke.com/sing.php?id=190

Supporting Cast Update: Oliver, Jamie; Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

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

Phobias are strange things.

I, for example, am quite scared of flying and - even when friends of mine patiently explain to me that if I took my own health and safety even remotely seriously I’d be far better off being terrified of my own car - the phobia I have still continues based upon what I am convinced are two unassailable facts :

a) It has been known for me to find myself as a passenger in a plane. And,

b) It has been known for planes to find themselves dropping out of the sky and pulverising all the passengers, who have just spent the previous five minutes screaming in sheer fucking terror with the sure knowledge that they are - without a doubt - about to die, into a rather unpleasant passenger pulp.

It is important to note here that no matter how seemingly remote this personal plane pulverising process may theoretically be, the fact remains that it is still some sort of a possibility… and thus my phobia continues. After all, if the aforementioned events get all Venned Up together then all that needs to occur is for circlefact A to intersect with circlefact B in any shape or form whatsoever… and I would be utterly buggered.

No matter how much I try otherwise however, I am finding it curiously hard to get all worked up about the painful possibility of somebody setting fire to my testicles. It is a possibility it could occur I suppose, but a situation within which I would find myself with my testicles dangling out, ready and available for such a treatment and with a willing testicle torcher loitering around in the near vicinity seems like such a laughably remote convergence of conditions to surely render any worry worthless.

Roger Waters has no such qualms.

He frightens himself with the thought of his little ones burning with alarming regularity - usually when looking at his own children.

Why Would Anybody Want To Set Fire To Roger Waters’ Testicles ?

They don’t - but then nobody particularly wants to murder me by turning the plane I happen to be on into a huge flaming odious fireball of death either, and that doesn’t stop my phobia.

Interestingly in Roger’s case his phobia has been informed by past events, as what seems to have occurred at some unspecified point during his fatherhood is that he once looked in on his sleeping children in the middle of the night having presumably just gone for a pee – but crucially forgot that he was currently naked.

Thus, when leaning over into their cots to check if they were OK, he accidentally briefly dangled his two precious little ones directly onto his children’s Donald Duck nightlight.

Which must have hurt.

Errr… What Has All This Got To Do With The Tide Turning ?

Well, the likelihood of such a terrifying testicular event ever occurring again is virtually zero, so the tide turning is quite obviously a metaphor for Roger slowly overcoming his resulting ball burning phobia – it wasn’t easy though, as it got so bad at one point that he couldn’t even put his head around the door without the glow of Donald Duck giving him the jitters.

Mind you, I don’t really blame him for becoming a bit fearful about it all - as he apparently burnt himself so badly at the time that he had to dial 999 for an ambulance to attend in order for him to become the recipient of some urgently needed personal emergency medical attention.

You Mean, He Needed Some Live Aid ?

Yes.

The Tide Is Turning ? After Live Aid ?

Amazing isn’t it ?

What A Dreadfully Moody And Serious Song.

It is a dreadfully moody and serious song.

However, unlike the action of getting your bollocks burnt into near extinction, it doesn’t really bring a tear to the eye.

What Are Roger’s Best Bits ?

If Roger over-enunciating the word ‘crap’ as if he’s bizarrely regressed to be a 16 year old boy who has just sworn at a teacher raises a slight titter within you, then the male voice choir which join him for absolutely no apparent reason around the 4 minute mark may well floor you entirely.

Incidentally, if you do get as far as the choir please beware : you still have another 1 and half minutes to go.

Where’s Roger Now ?

He’s here, and his real name… is George :

http://www.roger-waters.com/

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

http://www.myspace.com/georgerogerwaters

Why Does George Say ‘The Tide Is Turning, Sylvester’ At The End ?

This song is from a not remotely ridiculous sounding concept album called Radio KAOS. You can read all about it below - if nothing else it explains that bloody choir :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radio_K.A.O.S.

Anyway, the album version of this song apparently has a ‘hidden verse’ at the end of it performed entirely in morse code - which, of course, isn’t a remotely pretentious thing to do in the slightest. When transcribed, it reads thus :

“Now the past is over but you are not alone
Together we’ll fight Sylvester Stallone
We will not be dragged down in his South China Sea
of macho bullshit and mediocrity”

Yes, George is talking to Sylvester Stallone essentially requesting him to stop making such shit movies - and this really quite incredible fact means this record is strangely connected to Jean Beauvoir‘ s study in talcum powder and Bill Medley’s ever vibrating shit removal machine… which is something I am sure George would be thrilled by.

http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=7881

Did The Tide Really Turn After Live Aid ?

It is a slightly contentious issue :

“Much of the money raised by Live Aid went to NGOs in Ethiopia, some of which were under the influence or control of the Derg military junta. Some journalists have suggested that the Derg was able to use Live Aid and Oxfam money to fund its enforced resettlement and “villagification” programmes, under which at least 3 million people are said to have been displaced and between 50,000 and 100,000 killed.”

Still - at least Queen did well out of it, eh ?

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

http://liveaid.free.fr/

Money Update

Cost : 8 pence
Current value : Straight in at number 11 valuewise… 4 pounds and 95 pence. I am not really convinced it deserves it though… Gosh : this record actually reached the dizzy heights of number 54 - which would of course be tremendously exciting if it wasn’t a mere six places above where Gay Gordon and The Mince Pies got to as well.
Current Profit : 203 pounds and 57 pence. TWO HUNDRED POUNDS ! Who’d have thought it, eh ? On the same day that a very nice person from Boys Wonder popped in to say hello as well (see comment from Jones on the right if you’re interested). Fabulous. Oh, by the way, somebody has actually managed to make this record sound even more overblown. Impossible ? Not if you put Barack Obama speaking over the beginning of it : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7s9ubMQX7WE

Supporting Cast Update : Duck, Donald.

 

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…

Bill Medley’s voice is very low.

Bill’s Medley’s voice is very very low.

In fact, Bill Medley’s distant thunderoll of a voice is so disturbingly unnaturally low that if - like me - you prefer to play your music with a bit too much bass on your stereo, you will very quickly discover this voice can have the rather unnerving physiological side effect of quite literally rumbling the shit out of you.

If this has just happened to you then I would heartily recommend doing what I just did. ie Pop upstairs for a quick shower and a very sensible change of underpants, before returning with a rather nice glass of Harvey’s Bristol Cream in your hand to steady your nerves - along with the bottle’s cork strategically placed up your freshly vaselined bottom to prevent any further accidents. You’re going to need that cork believe me, because what happens next is bizarre…

Right, first we have to do an initial nervous re-wading through those opening buttock shaking lines again whilst Bill drones on about the fact that, yes, roads can indeed be quite long and - what’s more - some of them even have bends in… but if you make it safely past these slightly bland highway related pronouncements, Bill finally tells you his two incredible secrets… which are :

a) On the rare occasions he has both the desire and the access, he quite likes to carry Sylvester Stallone around his back garden by piggyback - and importantly, doesn’t really find it too much of a strain. This is, Bill modestly suggests, nothing to do with his own personal fitness levels but because of the fact that Sylvester is actually alot lighter than those glistening rippling muscles undoubtedly make you presuppose.

b) The reason why Bill is allowed in Sylvester’s back garden in the first place to carry out such a Stallone Carrying Mission is because this aforementioned star of Rambo III is in fact… a close blood relative of his.

What A Winding Turn !

Indeed.

But I suppose if point b) is factually correct it does at least make sense, as all the relevant Stallone Styled nepotism would explain how He Ain’t Heavy ever managed to make it onto the soundtrack of a Hollywood film in the first place, because - let’s face it - without it this huffing, puffing thigh strain of a song would still be lying in agony on the floor of the recording studio begging to be smothered to death with Deep Heat.

As it is though, so much does Bill strain his way through the torturous 4 and half minutes rather overgenerously allocated to him by Giorgio Moroder, it sounds like his vocal was in all probability recorded whilst that Sylvester Stallone piggyback was actually in progress. This is, we must assume, some strange sort of Post Modern High Art Method Singing Experiment which Bill, frankly, fails.

Song Any Good ?

It is unfortunately far too long and doesn’t really have enough of those musical winding turns. As a consequence, it’s welfare shouldn’t really be of your concern.

In fact, it is such hard work that when Bill sings “So on we go…” mere moments in it is certainly possible your initial reaction may well be a rather jaded ‘Must we?’ , and when he reaches ‘We’ll get there..’ it is more than likely that you won’t be too prone to entirely believing this to be the case.

But, get there you eventually do and - if you have the stomach for it - in the outro your reward is Bill repeatedly screaming “He ain’t heavy” and “He’s my brother…” as if he is rather belatedly trying to convince the jury of these so-called ‘facts’ whilst simultaneously being hauled off to the cells having just been convicted for lying about something so unbelievably stupid.

So How Heavy Is Sylvester Stallone ?

He is a very well oiled 228lbs… which converts to just under 16 and 1/2 stone - which is not heavy as such, but also not particularly light.

Still, this does mean that if there is one thing I have learnt today, it is that I probably weigh the same as one of Sylvester Stallone’s legs.

Is Bill Medley Really His Brother ?

No he’s not, the big fibber… but you can see why Bill thought he could probably get away with the deception as Sylvester’s Brother, Frank, is also - allegedly - a musician.

Additionally, although no nepotism was involved in getting Bill’s song into the soundtrack of Rambo III, the same cannot be said of the previous film in the Rambo series very logically called… Rambo II.

Why ?

Because that soundtrack contains a song somewhat punningly entitled Peace Of Our Life, performed and written by….. Frank Stallone.

It turns out that Our Frank has sung many songs on many soundtracks. These include films such as Rocky, starring Sylvester Stallone, and also Paradise Alley, starring Sylvester Stallone. Interestingly, he also actually got an acting role in a film released in 2006 called Rocky Balboa which starred somebody called… errr… Sylvester Stallone.

Apart from that, Frank released an album a couple of years ago called Stallone On Stallone - By Request, which was a collection of his theoretical greatest hits all culled from the soundtracks to his brother’s biggest films.

Do pop off and say hello… be prepared to be shocked though - he looks exactly like Sylvester Stallone would look if you left his face on a radiator for too long :

http://www.frankstallone.com

By the way, all this soundtrack madness means that Bill Medley’s record is also strangely connected to Jean Beauvoir’s - as both him and Jean also appear on the soundtrack to yet another film, called Cobra, starring… you’ve guessed it … Sylvester Stallone.

And who else managed to get a song onto that soundtrack ?

Yep : Frank.

Shut Up About Frank, Tell Me More About Bill…

Bill Medley was, of course, one half of The Righteous Brothers who recorded one of those songs that it sometimes feels is impossible to discover whether or not it’s any good anymore, because you get sick to death of hearing it so bloody much - You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’.

If you have recently lost that lovin’ feelin’ for You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ just like I had, then this should help you :

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

Infinitely better than you remember it, isn’t it ?

Sadly, however, Bobby Hatfield - ie the other chap whose vocals were far too loud in the mix at that previous link - has since lost not just his lovin’ feelin’ but absolutely all feelin’, as he died in 2003 :

http://www.spectropop.com/remembers/BHobit.htm

Has Bill Ever Sung A Medley ?

I can find no definitive proof that he has but it certainly seems very likely, as he currently spends most of his time performing at Dick Clark’s American Bandstand Theatre in Branson, Missouri - and it definitely looks like the kind of place where a Medley medley would go down a storm :

http://www.dickclarksabbranson.com/BillMedley.cfm

To show that he won’t be outdone by Sylvester Stallone when it comes to showbiz nepotism, Bill’s daughter Mckenna Medley also has a regular spot there - as well as in Las Vegas :

http://www.lvol.com/bios/e164.html

Want to see Mckenna perform at Dick’s ?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PYzCuXi0xhE

Sorry, Did You Say This Was Produced By Giorgio Bloody Moroder ?

I did, but it’s no Together In Electric Dreams is it ?

The production isn’t helped by Giorgio indulging in yet another High Art Experiment by apparently constructing the world’s biggest snare drum - roughly the size of an Olympic Swimming Pool - putting it in an echoey warehouse, filling the drum with water, then getting Sylvester Stallone to use a dolphin as a drumstick.

As I am sure Giorgio would be the first to admit, this doesn’t exactly produce the subtlest of sounds to power along your ballad of choice… but then this should come as no real surprise, as the other really rather odd thing Giorgio designed around the same time - the Cizeta Moroder - wasn’t exactly very subtle either.

What the fuck is a Cizeta Moroder ?

It is Giorgio’s car :

http://www.moroder.net/cizeta/m_cizeta.html

Money Update

Cost : 8 pence

Current Value : Fucking hell. The cheapest 12″ version I can find of this record is 50 fucking quid. That must be one fuck of a remix Giorgio. The 7″ though ? Errr…. 1 pound and 68 pennies.

Current Profit : 174 pounds and 65 pence. Find exactly why Giorgio is the king of that most maligned of genres, Hi-NRG, here - learn more about this song, here - and find out why Satan’s time is short, here.

Supporting Cast Update : Stallone, Sylvester; Moroder, Giorgio

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

This man has either the widest shoulders in the world – or the tiniest waist.

He certainly has cheekbones that could cut diamonds, and an evil stare that seems to be designed purely to put the shits up Superman. We must presume that his body has been taken over by demons to create that most terrifying of things : Evil Hernandez.

Musically it’s quite an evil beast too - the worst kind of summer holiday soft reggae. It is one of those records that tries really really hard to be a success with its seemingly inoffensive bounciness, then makes the mistake of just trying too damn hard. All those funny noises and orchestra hits designed to create excitement… can grate. If this song was a contestant on a TV talent show, it would be one of those endlessly sobbing ones who, when asked why the audience at home should pick up the phone and vote for them, inevitably answer:

“Because I want it sooo much…” - as if that is any real answer to the question.

Evil Hernandez has also made this record just a few beats per minute slower than it really should be. This slightly slower pace guarantees that if you try dancing to this record, you’ll end up just aimlessly bobbing around the dancefloor like a 6 year old child stuck in a pedalo at Butlins. I am sure Evil Hernandez laughed his spotty shirt off at the prospect .

Then there is the lyrical darkness. Yes, you lucky bugger, Evil Hernandez will indeed give you all of his love - but there are certain preconditions…

They are :

a) When the world around you has fallen

b) When the one you loved has gone

c) When sorrow’s taken your tomorrow, and

d) When the sun shines on you no more

In other words he will only attempt such a manouvere when you are at your most emotionally vulnerable and more likely to put out.

This shows a complete lack of confidence on Evil Hernandez’s part. Why is he so fearful that he may be rejected in a non-Hernandez-manipulated situation? What is it that makes him so unsure of himself? We all know that evil masterminds have emotional and/or physical characteristics that drives them on to create more and more evil - and that it is this characteristic that somehow makes them feel removed from society. Makes them feel different.

It is here we take another look at the front cover, and notice that Evil Hernandez’s characteristic is very much physical : he has no arms.

Still, at least he’s not Nazz Nasko.

Where Is Hernandez ?

There are many…

There is a chap who hilariously calls himself ‘Hotstuff Hernandez’

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

but, thanks to a truly dreadful goatee / headscarf combination, is anything but ‘Hotstuff’.

This is not him.

There is also a singer called Marcos Hernandez

http://www.marcosonline.com/

If you click on ‘music’ at the above link, you can hear his songs and read his totally fascinating explanation concerning his song ‘ C About Me ‘. It is, apparently ‘a pick up line he uses when asking girls to come check him out’. So, go check him out. Girls.

This, unfortunately, is not him either.

Finally, why not take a peek at Horacio ‘El Negro’ Hernandez

http://www.elnegro.com/

who is ‘one of the most talented drummers in the world today’. It is a shame then that he has decided to show the world his truly undoubted talents by playing with… Stevie Winwood.

In other words we do not know, and will never know if Mr Nice Hernandez ever escaped the Evil One’s grip.

Money Update

Cost : 8 pence

Current Value : Well, after all the excitement that Prayin’ with Harold Melvin created, I don’t expect much. And…. I am right. A paltry 1 pound and 53 pence.

Current Profit : 60 pounds and three pence. It broke us through the sixty barrier, but at what cost to Mr Nice Hernandez’s soul?

EDIT: Hernandez Found! See ‘Corrections and Clarifications’