I Am Not The Beatles

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Looking at Oscar James on the front cover whilst listening to him sing the phrase ‘Love Riding High’ does not bring the most tasteful of images to mind.

Is it just me or can you visualise sweaty old Oscar’s forehead rammed up against your neck as he desperately pushes his Y-fronted self between your legs, so determined to ‘ride you high’ that he is still wearing his socks - and that incredibly tasteful jumper ?

Unfortunately for him, the only thing ‘riding high’ at that exact moment seems to be the aforementioned jumper - which has been pushed up slightly in all the excitement and is now showing off his ample stomach, along with a tantalising glimpse of nipple.

Errr…Song Any Good ?

Well, it is one of those songs where the writer was desperately trying to be anthemic and failing, if not miserably, then certainly very badly.

It brings to mind an even stagier version of Rod Stewart’s execrable ‘We Are Sailing’.

But whereas croaky Rod went sailing ‘home again, across the sea’ - which at least seemed worthwhile - you get the feeling the only possible ’sailing’ you may need to do is over the endless waves coming at you down that large rippling stomach, as you hang on for dear life after changing position and climbing on top.

Ummm… So You’re Saying This Song Is Like Trying To Have Sex On A Waterbed ?

No, I’m saying this song is like trying to have sex with a waterbed.

Anything Else To Add ?

Yes : The sublime ‘Chain Reaction’ by Diana Ross contains about 50 million really clever key changes throughout the course of it’s three and a half minutes, and even then you get the feeling there should have been about 10 million more. On Oscar’s record there is only one - and it is one too many.

Worryingly, as if full in the knowledge of the song’s own slight tediousness, the writers have put the key change immediately after the first chorus - and when that sort of thing happens you know you are in deep deep trouble.

Where Is Oscar Now ?

Well he was born in Trinidad, is based in the UK and perhaps most famously (like Wendy Richard here before him) used to be in the BBC soap opera ‘Eastenders’ - and now…

http://www.oscarjames.com/

he is not, I repeat not, a hairdresser.

He was, however, the first black actor to play Macbeth at the RSC - and has even been in a Tim Burton film :

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

Here is his complete list of credits :

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0416805/filmoyear

Gosh.

He lives in North London apparently, so if all that imagery at the beginning got you going a bit and you have a sudden desire to stalk him - you now know where to look.

Money Update

Cost: 8 pence

Current Value : 3 whole pounds and 5 equally whole pence. In an Eastenders Record-Off, Oscar would beat dear Wendy by 55 big pennies.

Current Profit : 108 pounds and 63 pence. Which is a surprise to say the least.

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Ever had your heart broken ?

Want to know exactly how it happened ?

Unfortunately Toby can’t help you.

I am all for leaving out lyrical specifics so the listener can fill in the gaps with their own life experience, but you can only take this idea so far before your song becomes absolutely nothing at all. Toby proves this over and over again with a lyric so devoid of existence that it could be being sung by Godot himself.

“How long Girl?… It’s been a long time ” he begins immediately answering his own question, like one of those really annoying men you meet at a party who insist on finishing all your sentences for you.

It’s not a good start and is just about enough for me to start looking over his shoulder, make vague excuses about refilling my wine glass and scuttling off to the kitchen to hide.

Before I do though, I’ll give him a chance and have a close listen to the rest of Toby’s expert explanation of heart breakage :

” How long Girl?

It’s been a long time

I got in mind, but where did you come from ?

You’ve had a good time, but now you look about ready to run.

Oh, your dreams they didn’t work out

I wish I knew when I was starting out

Oh, you said you know now

I guess you found it out.

That’s how hearts break. ”

Sorry. Am I missing something ?

Forget the never appearing Godot, it seems all I need to do is paint Toby’s face white, put a noose around his neck and bung in a few lines about a skull in Conemara and I could be listening to the incoherent jabberings of a doped up Lucky.

The Cover

Oddly, Toby is vacantly sitting in almost precisely the same position as that young scamp Geoffrey Moore did a few songs back - but in mirror image.

Let’s have a look at them side by side.

It’s like a pair of rather unappealing Toby n’ Geoff bookends.

I can only presume it was the same photographer who is incredibly short on ideas.

“Oh, it’s for a record cover is it ? Why not, errmmmm, sit on the floor with your legs open flashing your lovely crotch to all and sundry ? Yep, yep… that’s brilliant…”

Unlike Geoffrey though, Toby makes the wise decision not to take his shoes off - but he is still trapped inside tight trousers that are far too short, thus exposing his ridiculous socks. What is it about Geoffrey and Toby ? Are they trying to appeal to some hitherto untapped musical market populated purely by ankle fetishists ?

As for that jacket : I always wondered what happened to my grandmothers living room curtains after she died - now I know.

And my family wants them back.

Where Is Toby ?

Well, I hope I track him down, as I’m deadly serious about the curtains.

I bloody loved those.

OK…. it seems he may have been a keyboard player by profession, and may even have appeared onstage at Live Aid with Spandau Ballet.

Gosh.

Can this really be him playing keyboards at the bottom ?

http://liveaid.free.fr/rewind/bbc/pages/015spandauballet.html

I have no idea - he’s a bit podgier there and isn’t waving his leathery crotch in my face, so it’s hard to tell.

If it is him, then he now plays with Paul Carrack - and is one of the people stood on stage in the first photo at Paul’s really horribly designed gallery here :

http://www.carrack-uk.com/

Well, it’s either that or he took up a sport I’ve never heard of before called Sprint Racing, becoming the Midwest Season Champion in 2006 :

http://www.tobychapman.com/

Anything Else To Add ?

Yes. I have been looking at that website for 10 minutes now, and I am still not convinced I understand what Sprint Racing actually is.

Oh well.

Money Update

Cost : 8 pence

Current Value : Just two pounds. Now that’s how hearts break, Toby.

Current Profit : 37 pounds and 22 pence.

 

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In which our hero makes use of some absolutely fantastic brackets, as if he is following up a previously circulated general sleeping request with the specifics he should have perhaps mentioned earlier.

It is a brave technique.

“You know I talked before about the possibility of sexual congress,” he seems to be saying “Well, I think I may have neglected to mention quite an important timescale issue…”

What’s It Like ?

Musically it worships at the satanic altar of Chris de Burgh, which is a dangerous place to be at the best of times. Imagine dressing yourself up like a Lady In Red, smothering your body with the blandest cheese sauce available, then meeting a slightly tipsy young Jeremy Clarkson lookalike who offers to lick it all off.

Every single line has the long lolloping rhythm of the embarrassing chat up lines you only ever attempt after a few drinks, when you have the sudden realisation that not only does sex exist : You Are It.

“WhenI’mwithyoothewurlz’suntroowesharealovedeepasthurrrr…….sea….” Geoffrey slurs as an opener.

Oh dear. It appears he may be more drunk than we thought.

Worse, in the second line - showing a complete lack of understanding of one of the fundamental metaphors in pop history - he slobbers the following into your ear :

“WhenI’mwithyooIdreamofdoorsthatopencozzzzyouholdthekey… “

“Geoffrey,” you feel like saying, “It is a simple metaphor based on genitalia. It has kept pop music going for over 50 years. Key / Lock. You have the key, Geoffrey - and I have the lock. Only by you using your ‘key’ in my ‘lock’ do my ‘doors open’…. well, unless you are asking me to… umm… well… errr… are you asking me to… ? ”

You don’t though, what’s the point ?

Does It Get Any Better ?

That’s hard to ascertain - it certainly gets scarier.

Just before Geoffrey asks you to sleep with him, the bass guitar makes a noise like a post coital fart under the duvet - as if to warn you of what you can expect from such an experience if you ever relent.

By the time the guitar solo kicks in, Geoffrey is getting seriously desperate for some hot him on you action, moaning, “Oh baby, c’mon, c’mon, c’mom, “ as if he’s touching himself whilst talking to you - and if you get as far as the outro he’s practically pouring Rohypnol in your drink, pushing you against a wall and begging you to get your bits out.

Anything Funny About The Sleeve ?

Yes. Everything : The false suntan, the jeans that are too short… the lack of shoes.

The best bit though is the photo on the back, where he sits on the floor as if he’s just been told off by his mum.

Do We Know Any Moore ?

If you’re not sitting down, SIT DOWN NOW.

This is incredible.

Not only has he been tracked down, I can tell you where is right now.

Surprisingly, he is not working as a Jeremy Clarkson lookalike… as this quote from a 2002 interview with him in The Guardian makes clear :

He hadn’t intended to enter the restaurant business: as a child his sights were firmly set on films or music. “I sort of drifted into it by pursuing as many options as possible all at the same time - I was signed as a singer to EMI and I did appear in a few movies, but it’s the restaurant that really took off… “

Yes it’s true… he co-owns a restaurant in Mayfair :

http://www.strictlyhush.com/

But that’s not all.

Prepare yourself :

He is the son of Roger Moore.

And he hasn’t aged well :

http://www.mi6.co.uk/livenews/images/geoffrey_moore1.jpg

Money Update

Cost : 8 pence

Current Value : Well he may run a successful restaurant populated by the rich and famous, but his record is worth bugger all : 83 pence. Higher than only Georgio and Rock and Hyde…

Current Profit : 33 pounds and six pence. Just over half as much as I would need for the evening set menu at Geoffrey’s restaurant, if you’re interested.