Friday, 31 January 2025

Ambiguo?

Just a few more hours to go, and the laptop can be snapped shut for another sixteen days - we're off to Spain at the crack'o'doom tomorrow morning for a (hopefully sunny) week on the Costa del Sol, followed by another week off just to potter... Yay!

To round off the countdown nicely, here's an old fave. Miguel Bosé (for it is he) is so amazingly popular in Spain he has produced not one, but two albums of his hits, re-recorded in duets with estimable international superstars such as Shakira, Ricky Martin, Fangoria, Ivete Sangalo, Michael Stipe from R.E.M. and even Penelope Cruz. When he started out, he was a heartthrob teen idol - in the same vein of David Cassidy or Leif Garrett - and, like so many pretty poster-boys, has subsequently "admitted to being bisexual". Cough. Cough.

When I first featured this particular number back in 2010, I said: "...one of the campest dance routines in the world! Madam Arcati reckons he reminds him of Anita Harris." Ha! I'll let you be the judge of that, dear reader - Gracias Disco ¡Es viernes!

That could just as easily been one of our "Tacky Music Monday" treats, to be honest...

Have a good weekend, peeps - we certainly will!

Thursday, 30 January 2025

God is Dead

“Never apologise, never explain - didn't we always say that? Well, I haven't and I don't.”

And she never did!

The saddest-of-sad news has reached our ears - one of the greatest of our Patron Saints, Miss Marianne Faithfull has departed to claim her rightful place at the top of the podium in the Fabulon Hall of Decadence. Black armbands all round, methinks...

There was never anyone else quite like Marianne - she simply oozed style and class, and indeed was for many years one of the most desired women on the planet!

Her glamorous background, her bohemian lifestyle, her relationships and her battle with drink and drugs and ill-health were all tabloid fodder for decades, yet she bounced back from it all to become a revered singer-songwriter with her own cult following - among whose number were Madam Arcati and I.

Indeed, I was thrilled to have an "Audience With God" [as Eddie Monsoon portrayed her in AbFab] way back in 2013! She was superb. Of course.

A very sad loss.

"Rebellion is the only thing that keeps you alive!"

"Maybe the most that you can expect from a relationship that goes bad is to come out of it with a few good songs."

And here's one...

“The morning sun touched lightly on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
In a white suburban bedroom in a white suburban town
As she lay there 'neath the covers dreaming of a thousand lovers
Till the world turned to orange and the room went spinning round.

At the age of thirty-seven she realised she'd never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.
So she let the phone keep ringing and she sat there softly singing
Little nursery rhymes she'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair.

Her husband, he's off to work and the kids are off to school,
And there are, oh, so many ways for her to spend the day.
She could clean the house for hours or rearrange the flowers
Or run naked through the shady street screaming all the way.

At the age of thirty-seven she realised she'd never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair
So she let the phone keep ringing as she sat there softly singing
Pretty nursery rhymes she'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair.

The evening sun touched gently on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
On the roof top where she climbed when all the laughter grew too loud
And she bowed and curtsied to the man who reached and offered her his hand,
And he led her down to the long white car that waited past the crowd.

At the age of thirty-seven she knew she'd found forever
As she rode along through Paris with the warm wind in her hair”

"Bad behaviour makes men more glamorous. Women get destroyed, thrown out of society and locked up in institutions."

"I haven't got purity, and I don't think I ever did. I have always been, even as a child, a very decadent little person."

This song might well be her epitaph...


The family tree was chainsawed Wednesday week
So now I have to mingle with the meek
Hey mister, you have finally met your match
Now everybody wants to kiss my snatch

To go where God knows who has gone before
I am a muse, not a mistress, not a whore
Oh, suburban shits who want some class
All queue up to kiss my ass

And I was only trying to please
I never got any royalties oh no, not me
I'm still sliding through life on charm
Sliding through life on charm

If Marianne was born a man she'd show you all
A way to piss your life against the wall
Go ahead why don't you leave me to these thugs
And creeps who want to fuck a nun on drugs?

Is it such a sin I never ever tried too hard?
I had to know how far was going too far
In proper homes throughout the land, Fathers try to understand
Why Eunice who is seventeen aspires to live her life like me

Oh no, can't ya see, Daddy?
She's just captivated by my charm
Sliding through life on charm

Sliding
Sliding
Never

I wonder why the schools don't teach anything useful nowadays
Like how to fall from grace and slide with elegance from a pedestal
I never asked to be on in the first place

Sliding on charm, sliding on charm
Sliding on charm, sliding on charm
Sliding on charm, sliding on charm
Sliding on charm

RIP, Marianne Faithfull (29th December 1946 - 30th January 2025)

Wednesday, 29 January 2025

Kung Hei Fat Choi!

Happy Chinese New Year, dear reader!

It's the Year of the Trousersnake Snake (oo-er) in 2025, so, by way of a celebration, here are some suitably-themed numbers, for your delectation:

Oh! And then there's this charming little ditty that I remember from when I was in school...

My friend Billy had a ten foot willy.
He showed it to the girl next door.
She thought it was a snake,
And hit it with a rake,
And now it's only six foot four.

Boom-tish!

Don't choke on your Nian gao, dears!

Tuesday, 28 January 2025

Love and luxury*

The countdown to Spain continues...

...and no such countdown could be complete without featuring possibly our favourite Spanish singer of them all, Patron Saint of "¡Drama, cariño!", Señorita Mónica Naranjo!

Possessor of one of the most powerful voices, anywhere - on this one [surprisingly, one I have not featured here before], she really gives it the full, OTT, works!

I have, of course, featured the great lady and her demi-operatic numbers many times before - not least here, here, here and here. However, there is one song of hers that crops up most regularly, our best-loved number in her repertoire and a "house fave" at parties (for very good reason)! All together, now...

¡Fabulosa!

Roll on Saturday...

[Amor y lujo = "Love and luxury" in Spanish]

Monday, 27 January 2025

Either you got it, or you ain't


Counting down the days...

Sigh. Another thrilling week begins - but at least we know that this is the last one before we jet off to Spain on Saturday! Thank heavens.

Meanwhile...

In addition to Paul Newman's centenary, yesterday would marked the 80th birthdays of two remarkable women, from opposite ends of the cutural spectrum entirely (both of whom departed much too young) - the remarkable classical cellist Jacqueline du Pré, and...

...the potty-mouthed stand-up comedienne and singer from the working mens' club circuit, who [thanks to winning talent show New Faces in 1975, beating both Lenny Henry and Victoria Wood!] became a household name and national treasure, Miss Marti Caine!

As it's Tacky Music Monday, I think something from the latter (replete with her "safety gays"), rather than the former, is more appropriate to provide us with our wake-up call!

Have a good week, dear reader.

Sunday, 26 January 2025

Totty of the Day

We have another centenary to celebrate today, dear reader - the man with the most piercingly blue eyes in Hollywood history, the utterly gorgeous Mr Paul Newman!

Facts:

  • Early in their respective careers, he was regularly approached by people who thought he was Marlon Brando. Rather than correct them, he would oblige their request for an autograph by signing, “Best Wishes, Marlon Brando.”
  • It was after starring in the 1969 racing film Winning that he took to motor racing in real life - he was competing as an amateur for a decade, he won his first professional race in 1982 and, at the age of 70 he was in the winning team in the 1995 Daytona 24-Hours sports car endurance race. He only retired when he was 80, three years before he died.
  • His was one of the few non-political names on President Nixon's “enemies list” in 1971, largely for his vocal opposition to the Vietnam War.
  • Despite being nominated six times previously for a Best Actor Oscar, he only finally won (for The Color of Money) in 1987 - and didn't turn up to the ceremony! He said: “I’ve been there six times and lost. Maybe if I stay away, I’ll win.”
  • In his words: “I'm a supporter of gay rights. And not a closet supporter either. From the time I was a kid, I have never been able to understand attacks upon the gay community. There are so many qualities that make up a human being... by the time I get through with all the things that I really admire about people, what they do with their private parts is probably so low on the list that it is irrelevant.”
  • Newman’s Own, his eponymously-branded range of salad dressings and sauces, is entirely not-for-profit and has raised more than $600 million for charitable causes.
  • When he found out that he and Gene Hackman were being paid more than their co-star Susan Sarandon on Twilight (1998), he offered to give up a portion of his salary to her to make things equitable.

What a man!

Paul Leonard Newman (26th January 1925 – 26th September 2008)

Saturday, 25 January 2025

Tragedies, luxuries, statues, parks, galleries

Och Aye! It's Burns Night again - the celebration of Scotland’s national poet, traditionally marked by eating haggis, neeps and tatties washed down with a dram of whisky.

Scotland has produced more than its fair share of internationally-renowned singers, musicians and bands, of course - including Sir Rod Stewart [admittedly, he was actually born in Highgate in London], Gerry Rafferty, Jimmy Somerville, Annie Lennox, Wet Wet Wet, Altered Images, Barbara Dickson, The Proclaimers, Annie Ross, Sheena Easton, Orange Juice, Midge Ure, the Associates, Sharleen Spiteri and Texas, Big Country, Franz Ferdinand, The Waterboys, Strawberry Switchblade, Gallagher and Lyle, Eddi Reader and Fairground Attraction, Kelly Marie, Maggie Bell, Donovan, Lewis Capaldi, Shirley Manson of Garbage, the Bay City Rollers and Lulu...

...but it is to this lot (a fave of mine until they followed U2's lead and went from electronic indie band to stadium rockers) to whom I turn to provide the entertainment, Scottish-style, this year. I used to dance to all of these, way back in the early 80s:

Take care not to hurt yourself doing the Gay Gordons, dear reader!

Friday, 24 January 2025

You're no tramp but you're no lady

It's bleak out there - dank, wet and windy - but it's not meant to last, the weekend's almost upon us, and it's pay day!

Time, methinks to get this party started - so let's let our hair (or our braids) well and truly down, enjoy a classic choon from this week (gulp!) 47 years ago and...

...Thank Disco It's Friday!

Runnin' pretty, New York City girl
Twenty-five, thirty-five
Hello baby, New York City girl

You grew up riding the subways running with people
Up in Harlem, down on Broadway
You're no tramp but you're no lady talkin' that street talk
You're the heart and soul of New York City

And love, love is just a passing word
It's the thought you had in a taxi cab
That got left on the curb
When he dropped you off at East 83rd

Oh oh oh (Oh oh oh)
You're a native New Yorker
You should know the score by now
You're a native New Yorker
New York girl, ooh ooh ooh

Music plays, everyone's dancing closer and closer
Making friends and finding lovers
There you are lost in the shadows searching for someone
To set you free from New York City

And, whoa, where did all those yesterdays go?
When you still believed
Love could really be like a Broadway show
You are the star, win the applause

Oh oh oh (Oh oh oh)
You're a native New Yorker
No one opens the door
For a native New Yorker

(Runnin' pretty, New York City girl)
Ooh ooh ooh
Native, native, native New Yorker

Where did all those yesterdays go?
When you still believed
Love could really be like a Broadway show
You are the star

You're a native New Yorker
You should know the score by now
You're a native New Yorker

Have a good weekend, dear reader!

Thursday, 23 January 2025

Of iguanas, the Hit Factory, presidents and Tina

It's another snippets post, dear reader:

  • Killer reptile news: A chilly cold snap in Florida has led to an unforeseen hazard - iguanas, unable to warm up enough to move, falling out of trees! It sounds amusing until you find out that adult male Green Iguanas can reach five feet in length, and weigh up to 20 pounds. I wouldn't want one falling on my head, thanks...
  • History lesson: the tiny Somerset vllage of Barton St David (population 600) has a major claim to fame - its historical links to no fewer than five American presidents! Not Trump. He's German.

  • Pop legends news: Stock, Aitken and Waterman - one of the most successful songwriting and producing partnerships of all time, with more than 100 UK Top 40 hits, including thirteen UK No. 1 singles (and three US #1s), who launched the musical careers of the likes of Our Princess Kylie, Dead or Alive, Mel and Kim, Jason Donovan, Rick Astley and Bananarama [or made the latter into superstars, at least] - have unveiled a Historic England blue plaque in their honour, at their old studio in Southwark that became known as "The Hit Factory".
  • Basic biology news: A US court has ruled that elephants are not people. Well, there's a surprise!
  • And finally - a posthumous discovery from an icon: A never-previously-heard track by the sadly-missed Miss Tina Turner, believed to be lost, was premiered on BBC Radio 2 this morning. And here, for your delectation, it is!

And the weather? Miserable. [But thank heavens we're not in Northern Ireland or Scotland!]

Wednesday, 22 January 2025

Impudence!

As the weather here in London remains stubbornly cold and miserable, our thoughts (of course!) continue to be preoccupied with our pending return to the delights of the Costa del Sol (one week on Saturday) - and I feel in the mood for one of Spain's most entertaining bands, one of our favourites, and one we haven't featured for a while...

...the ultra-camp sort-of-Goth-cum-dance duo Fangoria!

It may be nowhere near Hallowe'en, but that's not going to stop the terrifyingly startling Alaska and her chums. They're in full haunting mood - forgive their Desfachatez [impudence]...

Facts about (lead singer) the magnificent Alaska:

  • Born Olvido Gara Jova in Mexico, of Spanish/Cuban exile parents, she apparently told her mother when she was a child that she would love to be a boy just to be gay.
  • Her earliest bands Los Pegamoides and Dinarama were heavily influenced by punk and post-punk bands such as Siouxsie and the Banshees and Depeche Mode; on forming Fangoria her musical style changed more towards electro-dance.
  • Alaska is widely regarded in Spain as a "gay icon" and is a fervent supporter of Madrid Gay Pride.
  • She had a starring role as Bom in the Pedro Almodóvar film Pepi, Luci, Bom y otras chicas del montón.
Fangoria on Wikipedia

Tuesday, 21 January 2025

Dickheads

How to write a triumphant column about Trump that will make you look a dickhead in four years or less

Are you a journalist? Right-of-centre? Looking to write a gloating column about President Trump that will age very, very badly? Follow these tips:

Skip over the inconvenient
Whether it’s the attempt to overturn an election or his bromance with Putin, move smoothly past the awkward fact that he proudly stands for multiple policies you’re theoretically dead against. Stress instead his mandate, his restoration of traditional values, how lovely his wife looks in her gangster hat, and let cancelling elections come as a lovely surprise.

Dismiss valid concerns
The promise to retake the Panama Canal by force? No more than the aggressive opening of a negotiation by a renowned deal-maker. Trump’s no more going to send troops in an act of war against a peaceful neighbour than he would pack the judiciary with pals and arrest political opponents on false charges. Stay sure of that until it happens.

Praise his restraint
Trump loves praise, so lavish it. Tell him how wonderful he is for not imposing martial law, how statesmanlike for not appointing his sons to key cabinet posts, that by not ordering his face to be added to Mount Rushmore on the first day he is acting in the tradition of Jefferson and Lincoln. Then watch him do all those things because you gave him the idea.

Revel in the defeat of the wokerati
Never mind what Trump will do, what about your enemies? The columnists for rival newspapers who disagree with you? The twats who insist on having different opinions to you on social media? This is a time to mock, to belittle, to taunt them for their ridiculous claims of incipient fascism. You definitely won’t regret those words.

Stake your reputation
Dizzy with success, make predictions. Elon Musk’s random firing of half the government will have uniformly positive consequences. Appointing a vaccine-skeptic will be a massive boost to America’s health. Making it clear the rule of law doesn’t apply to thugs on our side will work out brilliant. Then sit back and wait to reap the wonderfulness you have sown.

The Daily Mash

Of course.

Monday, 20 January 2025

Will it be love?*


Amen.

Another delightful week begins, and I don't even feel like I have had a weekend [I have actually done bugger all - and yesterday was a complete write-off]. But hey ho! Whatever this week in work throws at us, it's less than a fortnight before we are in Spain again...

...so on this Tacky Music Monday let's have a suitably OTT wake-up call, shall we, courtesy of one of that country's campest-of-camp "national treasures"?!

Have a good week, dear reader.

[¿Será el amor? = "Will it be love?" in English]

Sunday, 19 January 2025

Classics Nouveau?


WTF?!

It's a gloomy Sunday, all dense cloud and chilly dankness. I only got out of bed around 3 o'clock, there being no light to awaken me.

Time for a selection of "newer" (and not-so new) choons that have caught my ear of late to brighten the horizon, methinks...

Let's open proceedings with our ever-reliable "house band", with their take on one of my all-time favourite songs, ever:

Speaking of "80s vibes" - there appears to be a wholesale revival of such sounds around at the moment. Not least with this one, which, if it were not for the demi-drag makeup and feathered hat, might well have been a Tears for Fears album track:

Taking us more down the path well-trodden by the likes of Bauhaus and their 80s Goth compatriots, this:

Next, a lady who has obviously listened to Depeche Mode's Violator album on repeat:

The wonderful Miss Kim Wilde [coincidentally just featured in Ms Scarlet's 2025 comeback] has delved back into the decade where she started, too! If Gary Numan wasn't involved here, someone's nicked his synthesisers...

[see also: Ms Scarlet's Wonky Words. Spooky coincidence.]

And, finally, a song that is actually from the 1980s [and one that was played on Gary Davies' Sounds of the 80s show on BBC Radio 2 just this week] that - much like my little "mixtape" I put together towards the end of last year - is one I have never previously played here, despite it being a favourite of mine for 37 years!

As ever, dear reader, I welcome your thoughts!

Saturday, 18 January 2025

Hair-hoppers

Ah, the 80s...

[right-click and "open in new tab" to embiggen]

Friday, 17 January 2025

Guess what?

Another weekend hoves into view...

...and it would have been the peerless Betty White's birthday today! We miss her. But, this is no time to be sad, it's time to party! And...

...Thank Disco It's Friday!

A classic.

Betty Marion White Ludden (17th January 1922 - 31st December 2021)

Thursday, 16 January 2025

Oops! Apocalypse...

Embarrassing mix-up as Starmer visits wrong war

Ha!

The Daily Mash

Of course.

Wednesday, 15 January 2025

Oh let our hearts go free

Sad news. Another Nolan Sister has departed for the sprung dancefloor and glitter curtains of the Fabulon Country Club "Dinner'n'Dance Nights" today - Linda [far left, above], once tastefully described in the tabloids as "The Naughty Nolan" because some of the publicity shots for the launch of her attempt at a solo career were considered a bit rauchy.

The poor girls are cursed, it seems. Their lead singing sister Bernie (Bernadette) died with breast cancer in 2013, the eldest Anne was also treated for the disease, and sadly Linda was given the all-clear in 2011 after years of treatment, but the cancer returned.

In memory of happier times, here are the girls with their follow-up to the mega-hit I'm In The Mood For Dancing - live on the Lena Zavaroni Show!

RIP, Linda Nolan (23rd February 1959 – 15th January 2025)!

Tuesday, 14 January 2025

A warm hand on Julian's entrance

There is something in the British psyche that leads thousands upon thousands of people, up and down the country, regular theatre-goers or not, to be strangely drawn to go to a Panto at this time of year. Knockabout entertainment, full of child-friendly colours, bangs, special effects, puppets and clownish characters making silly jokes? Check. Filthy double-entendres and innuendo that flies over the kiddie-winkies' heads and keeps the adults entertained? Check. Loads of audience interaction, men dressed as women and women dressed as men, perhaps a famous (or semi-famous) face in a guest-starring role, a couple of recognisable songs, loads of OTT costumes, and a cornier-than-corny plot that doesn't take much concentration and inevitably leaves everyone happy-ever-after? Of course.

However, mix all those ingredients together with one of our finest camp comedians Julian Clary, and the deep, deep pockets of the London Palladium and the production company Michael Harrison's "Crossroads" - and the entertainment is simply the finest in the business!

So it was that "our gang" - Madam Arcati, Hils, Crog, John-John, Our Sal, Lou, Bence and I - champing at the bit with excitement - headed off for the Palladium's 2024-25 season spectacular Robin Hood.

From the review in London Theatre:

This Robin Hood would be better titled "The Julian Clary Show". Even though the cast is bursting with talent... it is Clary who draws us in with his eye-popping costumes (the giant owl and castle complete with turrets and flags are stand-out designs) and naughty humour. His jokes are so near the knuckle that audiences were left open-mouthed on press night with one comment about 73-year-old Nigel Havers being “the poster boy for the assisted dying campaign”. Clary also goes after Keir Starmer and former Masterchef presenter Gregg Wallace - though most of his jokes remain classic Clary smut.

It's what we pay our money for!

Eternal "butt of the jokes" Nigel Havers at least had his moment in the spotlight at the show's opening number We Need A Hero (sung by "The Spirit of the Forest", aka the "narrator" who tries his best to keep some semblance of plot threads together, Rob Madge), where - in addition to a tableau of British legends and, erm, an animatronic dinosaur(!) - he was lowered precariously on strings from the ceiling as Superman/"Super-Nige"! West End stalwart Charlie Stemp as "Alan-a-Dare" and newbie "Little John" (Tosh Wanogho-Maud) got to perform some spectacular dance numbers - and, of course, were frequently on the receiving end of Julian's acid tongue [oo-er].

“Channel 5’s sultry star” (according to Mr Clary) Jane McDonald was given free rein on the big show-stopper numbers like You're My World. Even American ex-pat - and actual musical theatre star - Marisha Wallace, despite appearing at times utterly bewildered in her role as the villainous "Sheriff of Nottingham" got to show off her talents, singing (for some reason unrelated to the show) Defying Gravity from Wicked. Of course, ventriloquist (and Palladium panto regular) Paul Zerdin and puppet "Sam" got all the customary call-and-return and singalong bits to engage the children. And the traditional - and exhausting - ensemble number If I Were Not a Merry Man, where everyone is in line, waving the tools of their "alternative chosen trade" around, almost hitting each other as they do so, was utterly hilarious! We had tears streaming down our faces.

From WhatsOnStage:

The chemistry between Clary and McDonald is panto gold, of course, as they both share a love for cruising (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) and her constant requests for him to “satisfy her womanly needs” are, alas, always met with a closeted hint of resistance.

...In a show that boasts giant, fire-breathing dragons and flying fire engines, drones disguised as ghosts floating over the audience and even a 3D film section, it’s simply the communal spirit of pantomime that brings the real festive fulfilment at the Palladium. As Madge sings: “Well… hello, panto! Ain’t it nice to have it back where it belongs?” - a nod to the venue’s Imelda Staunton-led Hello, Dolly! in the summer - you can’t help but lucidly reply: “Oh yes, it is!”

And... before the glittering finale, with all the biggest and best costumes on show being paraded around, there was the "big reveal". By way of concluding the story of "Robin and his Merry Men" getting their final comeuppance on "the Sheriff", the heroic "King Richard" needed to make his entrance to save the day. This part has been created in this show as a revolving door of special guest stars - indeed, previous King Richards have included James Corden, Dawn French, Jennifer Saunders, Gary Wilmot, Paul Merton, Mark Gatiss, Beverley Knight, Christopher Biggins, Patricia Hodge, Jenny Eclair, Alan Carr, David Walliams, Jason Donovan, Gyles Brandreth, David Mitchell, Lee Mead, Al Murray and Jon Culshaw (as Donald Trump!) - for this, the penultimate evening show, however, the honour went to...

Sir Ian ("Serena") McKellen!!

We were very "merry men", indeed!

Roll on next year, I say!

Monday, 13 January 2025

Slow down, you move too fast

We have a centenary to celebrate today, dear reader - that of one of the greatest Broadway dancers and choreographers of the latter half of the 20th century, former Mrs Bob Fosse, Gwen Verdon!

She - in collaboration with Bob - was the powerhouse behind some of the greatest and most memorable musicals, including Sweet Charity, Chicago (in both of which she starred on Broadway), Cabaret, Damn Yankees and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (for which she coached Marilyn and Jane to create two of the silver screen's greatest vamps)!

On this Tacky Music Monday, however, by way of a tribute - here she is in a most bizarre routine indeed:

Have a good week, dears.

Gwyneth Evelyn “Gwen” Verdon (13th January 1925 – 18th October 2000)

Sunday, 12 January 2025

Where did you come from, where did you go?

Still coming down to earth after laughing our tits off last night at the spectacuar panto Robin Hood starring Julian Clary and Jane McDonald at the London Palladium (more on that later, no doubt), the bitter cold air is still hanging over our poor, bedraggled garden and we've just been lolling-about in the house with the heating on.

To cheer ourselves up as we await the (forecast) thaw this week, let's take a little "mini-timeslip" moment, shall we?

This week thirty years ago in 1995, the Top 10 in our charts still had some Xmas "hangovers" from the likes of Boyzone and East 17, the Human League was having a little comeback, there were some soon-to-be-classic dance choons courtesy of N-Trance and Ini Kamoze, and also present and correct were Guns'n'Roses, Oasis and novelty kids' TV puppets Zig and Zag. However - thankfully keeping the godawful Slime Dion off the top, for the next few weeks at least - taking the #1 slot was this lot! Talk about "left-field"...

Try as we might to deny it, everyone still sings along to it!

Saturday, 11 January 2025

Of Iris, Mary Poppins and bananas

It's another snippets post, dear reader...

And the weather? Bloody freezing! It was the coldest night in the UK for fifteen years last night. Every pot in the garden is frozen solid. Sigh.

Friday, 10 January 2025

Now hold on a minute, before we go much further, give me a dime so I can phone my mother

Sir Rod Stewart, a national treasure and genuinely decent bloke, the man behind a slew of classics including Maggie May, You Wear It Well, Sailing, You're in My Heart, The Killing of Georgie (and covers of I Don't Want to Talk About It and The First Cut Is the Deepest) and much, much more in a career spanning six decades, is 80 years old today!

As a child, he lived above his father's newsagent shop in Archway, North London, and had ambitions to be a footballer.

Yesterday, he and his extended family kicked off his 80th birthday celebrations in grand style, enjoying a luxurious 10-day getaway aboard a $150 million super yacht in the Caribbean.

Not bad for a lad from a Scottish family whose musical career started off busking in Leicester Square...

As another weekend hoves into view it's only fitting to play, by way of a tribute, the spiky-haired-one's biggest-selling hit - and Thank Disco It's Friday!!

Have a great weekend, dear reader! Our gang's off to the panto at the London Palladium tomorrow (Oh, yes we are!)...

Many happy returns, Roderick David Stewart (born 10th January 1945)!

Thursday, 9 January 2025

Where did he even hear about them?

The US is hunting down the thoughtless prick who provided Donald Trump with a map of the world and caused all this trouble.

The incoming president has never previously suffered from territorial ambition but is now attempting to annex Canada, buy Greenland and wants the Panama Canal as an inaugural gift, prompting advisers to seek out where he even heard about them from.

A Mar-a-Lago insider said: “He’s clearly got one. How else would he know the names of all these places? He didn’t before.

“It’s somewhere in his suite, covered in ketchup fingerprints, with Gulf of Mexico scribbled out and ‘Gulf of AMERICA!’ written in, but we can’t find it and he’s getting worse. Yesterday he asked if I knew we had to go through Canada to get to Alaska, and if I thought that was ‘fair’.

“Last time he’d happily get on Air Force One, meet a leader, have a banquet, fly home and not even know where he’d been. Now he’s getting all geopolitical.

“It’s definitely a map, not a globe, which is why he thinks Greenland is as large as the continental United States. I pity the poor bastard who has to explain the Mercator Projection to him.”


He added: “If he finds out it wraps around and we’re only a strait away from Russia? Oh boy.”

The Daily Mash

Of course.

[What?! I hear you say - two Daily Mash posts in one week? Yes. This one was too good not to share...]

Wednesday, 8 January 2025

Even a Fool Learns to Love?

It is that annual "Diva Day", when we celebrate the birthdays of two eternal icons and Patron Saints here at Dolores Delargo Towers [one, gladly, still with us us, one forever missed] - Dame Shirley Bassey and Mr David Bowie.

To that end, a mini-quiz, dear reader. What connects this song from the then Miss Bassey's repertoire...

...with this, from Mr Bowie's?

From The Guardian:

In the late 60s, a young songwriter called David Bowie was asked by his manager to write an English lyric for a French pop song, Comme d’habitude (As Usual), by Claude François. “I turned in the pitifully awful title 'Even a Fool Learns to Love', which he rejected out of hand, quite rightly, I feel,” Bowie remembered in 1999. “And it passed on to Paul Anka, who did his own English lyric. And he called it, simply and effectively, 'My Way'”...

...Later, Sinatra would claim My Way “really had nothing to do with my life whatsoever”. Anka, however, felt Sinatra’s experiences helped give the song its power. “Shit happens to everybody every day, whether you’re Frank Sinatra or Joe Blow,” says Anka. “Of course he had regrets – that’s why we sat around and drank every night. You could hear it come out in him, from Ava Gardner, to whoever … but that was the magic of Sinatra: when he sang about it, you believed it. His lucky streak is that he is able to sing about it, convey it and help people along who need it emotionally.”

... When the young Bowie heard Don Costa’s grand arrangement [for Sinatra] on the radio, he was crestfallen. “So in retaliation,” he said, “I wrote 'Life on Mars'.”

A note on the inner sleeve of Hunky Dory reads: “Inspired by Frankie.”

Inspired, indeed.

Tuesday, 7 January 2025

The same as a week in Ibiza?

A group of drinkers who spent three days snowed in at a Yorkshire pub are gamely pretending they loved it. They didn’t and nor would you:

Day one, snow
It is intrinsically exciting to look at heavy snowfall through windows while inside and warm. Add that to the adrenaline rush of getting pissed and the day flies by. It’s early evening and dark before you know it.

Day one, evening, snow
Except now you can’t see the snow. And you’ve got that queasy day-drunk feeling in your guts and while you were gazing out of windows the other patrons secured the best beds, couches and patches of floor. Continue to order pints in lieu of genuine merriment.

Day two, snow
Wake hungover and cold. The landlord’s doing cooked breakfasts and your stomach’s lurching, and he’s charging £22.80 for them which makes you heave. And full price for drinks? Three days in a Yorkshire pub’s going to cost you the same as a week in Ibiza!

Day two, afternoon, snow
After a morning of sulky abstinence you hit the booze and go out to make a snowman, have a snowball fight, and urinate your initials into a snowdrift. All tremendous fun until you return indoors, panting and red-faced, and realise your clothes are soaking and you didn’t bring any spares because you were only coming to the pub.

Day two, evening, snow
Right. At this stage you’re trapped in a building with people you’d rather not be trapped with and all entertainment options have been exhausted. The thought of a pint makes you ill, but you can’t even have a Coke without it costing £2.80. Settle to getting shitfaced but grimly, as Captain Oates might have done.

Day three, more fucking snow
Still? Still snowing? Are they taking the piss? When you’ve woken up from a nightmare about The Shining, shivering under a damp coat, to the sound of the landlord taking a plunger to the toilets? You step outside into the snow to vomit copiously into it. This won’t make the regional news.

Day three, escape
The roads are cleared. The media arrives to cover the wonderful time you’re having. You pay a photographer £100 for a lift back to civilisation. It’s small change compared to the £600 you’ve spent locked in this fucking pub. Make it home. Vow never to enter a pub again. Go that night, to brag about how great it was.

The Daily Mash

Of course.

[The "real" story]

Monday, 6 January 2025

Little arrows in your clothing, little arrows in your hair

It's been an absolutely foul weekend - freezing temperatures followed by slushy frozen rain and snow, followed by murk, mizzle, rain and general dankness. Now it's time to get back to work again. How lovely...

Never mind, eh? It's less than four weeks till we're fleeing to warmer climes on the Costa del Sol - so, on this Tacky Music Monday, how about something from one of our favourite combos from sunny Spain?

The lovely Las Seventies never fail to cheer us up!!

Have a good week, dear reader. Keep warm.

Sunday, 5 January 2025

Saturday, 4 January 2025

2024 - a bit of a whirlwind year, Dolores Delargo Towers style

We breathed a sigh of relief in 2022, the first year that our social events really resumed after the nightmare "coronavirus years". We ramped-up the ante in 2023, with quite a few theatre trips and holidays. 2024, however - this was a year when we went into overdrive! Just about every month brought something new to see and do, and heavens, we saw and did a lot...

The whole thing kicked off with a bang in January, with the Cinderella panto starring Craig Revel Horwood, closely followed by Madam Arcati and I at Menier Chocolate Factory for Sondheim's Pacific Overtures, and John-John and I in Heaven for (what would turn out to be our only visit to what used to be a monthly treat) Polari headlined by David McAlmont and HiFi Sean. February saw us make our annual pilgrimage to Benalmadena - en masse, as it was The Madam's 65th birthday - but before we went, we found the time to go to Wilton's Music Hall for a one-woman tribute to Gertrude Lawrence...

As Spring began, in March we two were off to the Cadogan Hall for the first of three choral concerts during 2024, Faure's Requiem. In April, the "clans" gathered for a [return, for me] visit to the V&A for its splendid DIVA exhibition. May began with a real treat, as we were off to the London Palladium for an unforgettable live show by "house band" Postmodern Jukebox, and the following weekend it was "The Gay World Cup", our Eurovision Song Contest party.

With barely time to recover from our hangovers, however, The Madam and I were off to Spain again - for our "Andalusian adventure", taking in the delights of Seville, Cadiz and Jerez, before another week of hedonism back in Benalmadena. June brought us more joys, with Jerry's Girls at the Menier, and by complete contrast, the magnificent Verdi Requiem at Cadogan Hall. Of course, the end of the month saw the event around which everything else just pivots, [our red-and-gold-themed] Gay Pride!

July saw us complete our "choral triptych" with another trip to Cadogan Hall for Walton's Belshazzar's Feast - and, as we are definitely not averse to "mixing-up the genres", John-John and I went to see [in its opening weekend] Deadpool and Wolverine.

Onward and upward, and August was hectic! We were back to the Palladium for Hello Dolly! starring Imelda Staunton, and A Chorus Line at Sadler's Wells a few days later - well, it was mine and my sister's birthday fortnight [ours are a week apart, although there's three years between us] - and then The Madam and I were once again at "The World's Leading Variety Theatre" for a once-in-a-lifetime experience: Bernadette Peters in Concert. With barely time to draw our breath after all those shows, we were off to our [second, after London] favourite city Amsterdam for the annual pilgrimage! To end the month, we took advantage of a rare bit of sunshine in what was an up-and-down "summer" (again) for our first outdoor "Grand Picnic" in two years.

After a relatively quiet September, we were off again in October [for our first ever visit] to Alexandra Palace Theatre for the revue Sondheim on Sondheim and then, in a matter of days, another once-in-a-lifetime event - Dame Joan Collins: One Night Only at the Adelphi Theatre! In a final flourish, we went to see the triumphal return of Rick Skye and Steven Brinberg's Barbra & Liza Live! at Charing Cross Theatre, and Sacha Regan's all-male Pirates of Penzance at Wilton's Music Hall in November. Oh, and Our Sal's 25th anniversary at the "Lady Shaston" Arms, of course. And then there was her birthday party in December, and our New Year's Eve Party as a fitting finale..!

Whew.

However, if this is to be a "review of the year" - was there any music that could in any way be considered in the running for a "song of the year"? Hmmm...

This one was fucking everywhere last "summer" - despite me describing it back in June as sounding "like something Kylie might have thrown out during her time with Roc Nation" - but, if social media wasn't around, would it really have been that big..? Maybe:

This one is a real "left-fielder" - we loved it, and I'm sure it was a club hit. Bizarrely it seemed to disappear from what laughingly passes for "the charts" without a trace:

This sublime cover from November is a contender - just pure class, as one might expect - and it was indeed on heavy rotation for a long time on the Radio 2 playlist:

However, it was this one that really was the "Discovery of the Year" [despite being released in 2023] - so it may as well be crowned the "Dolores Delargo Towers Song of the Year"!

Utterly brilliant!

Let's see what 2025 brings us, shall we..?