Praise from John Fisher

There is now a dedicated blog for Funny Bones, the autobiography of comedy legend Freddie Davies what I cowrote, but I can't resist posting John Fisher's words of praise for the book here as well.

John is the author of Funny Way to Be a Hero and producer of the related TV series Heroes of Comedy as well as numerous other shows. He has also written biographies of Tommy Cooper and Tony Hancock. This is what he was kind enough to say:

I can’t get over how good Funny Bones is. Freddie Davies’ autobiography, co-written with Anthony Teague, is unquestionably one of the most honest and illuminating books I have read about the practice of comedy, never losing sight of the pressures and insecurities of a job that is prone to more ups and downs than a roller coaster. Along the way it provides fresh insights into other comedy greats, not least Sid Field, Sir Norman Wisdom, Frankie Howerd, Jerry Lewis, George Carl, Charlie Drake and Davies’ ostensible grandfather, the underrated revue comic Jack Herbert, who was a major influence on Field. It also vividly evokes the hollow shabbiness of so much of the late twentieth century British show business scene in that period betwixt the Beatles and Blur. In every way, a cornerstone of its genre. 

                                               John Fisher, writer and producer

Buy Funny Bones here.

Jake Thackray and Songs DVD now out

For those who don't yet know and would benefit from knowing, I bear the happy news that a DVD of extracts from the series Jake Thackray and Songs has just been issued. I have ordered it but have not yet seen it. This is from the product description on am*zon:

At last Jake Thackray's legendary television series, 'Jake Thackray and Songs', is released on DVD, by arrangement with BBC Music. ....  'Jake Thackray and Songs', broadcast in 1981, captures him at the height of his powers; it paints an intimate portrait of Jake as a live artist, playing to audiences in the small venues where he felt most comfortable. This DVD features all of his performances from the series: thirty of his greatest songs, along with his inimitable between-songs chat and storytelling. Also included are previously unreleased performances by three outstanding guest artists: Ralph McTell, Alex Glasgow and Pete Scott. 

If you haven't read my posts relating to Jake Thackray, the main one is here followed by two related post which also discuss Ralph McTell here and here.

Looking at the Jake Thackray website, I see that a great deal of his TV output appears to have survived. No indication, alas, of the appearances on the show Tickertape which have stayed in my mind (in particular a song which may have been called Sophie and William), but I was glad to see this note:

TW, TW, and thrice TW

At last a chance to see Frankie Howerd's appearance on TW3 in full. If you have seen any of the documentaries about Howerd then, like me, you may have been tantalised by a few brief glimpses of the 1963 appearance on TW3 which famously gave him back his career after his first major dip. I thought the Arena programme on Howerd was a dreary affair which only really came alive with a clip of him seizing his moment on Ned Sherrin's show.

Other documentaries have chosen slightly different extracts from that 1963 show, and for a while I contemplated trying to edit the material I had together in order to get at least a sense of the whole, which I was too young to see at the time.

It seemed the only way I'd get to see it, even though I knew it survived in complete form. A few years ago I was chatting to David Benson after a performance of his show about Frankie Howerd, and he said he'd seen a tape of the routine, which went on for about thirteen minutes - slightly too long, he said, with Howerd reluctant to quit even though he'd peaked.

Donald Sinden and Fiddler's Green

I was sorry to hear about the death of Donald Sinden. I have two memories of him, one shared by the playwright Simon Gray. In An Unnatural Pursuit, Gray's journal about the first production of his play The Common Pursuit, he describes going to see School for Scandal at the Duke of York's in order to check out one of the actors for a possible part in his play. Sinden is playing Sir Peter Teazle and Gray describes him in action:

Donald Sinden boomed richly away, postured ripely away, and was delighted in by the audience, whose delight he delighted in.

That was certainly my experience at the matinee I attended. I was studying Restoration comedy at the time (yes, yes, I know Sheridan's eighteenth century) but my exposure to high comedy of any sort (happy now?) had been limited to several stylised productions at the Citizens Theatre in Glasgow, so it was good to see a staging which may have been a bit of a museum piece but in a style which I'd never had a chance to ... well, to delight in before, as Gray says. And it wasn't difficult to believe that we were watching an unbroken line from its first staging. I can't remember how many asides were written into the play but I well recall that Sinden's Sir Peter indulged in quite a few.

That production was, I think, in the early eighties. A few years later I got the chance to see the great man at work up close when I attended rehearsals for a Thames sitcom pilot called Fiddler's Green.

Return of radio show about the Flamingos (Matt the Cat's Juke in the Back)

This is another post which involves recycling, prompted by seeing that Matt the Cat's radio show on the Flamingos is currently available once more on the Rock-it Radio website and can be downloaded for free while it's there. 

It's the first of three programmes, and Matt promises all the Decca recordings in a later episode. Go to the Rock-it Radio Archives Page here, and scroll down to show #5021 to download or stream. Shows are only online for a few weeks before they are displaced, so it may have gone or a later episode may be up, depending on when you read this. But there are always good things to listen to on the Rock-it website anyway, and you can support them by buying vintage radio broadcasts here.

If you have explored further than the most recent posts in this blog, you will know that it was originally set up to archive posts from a doo wop messageboard, and that a favourite subject of those messages was the Flamingos' recording of Golden Teardrops. This was recorded in 1953 for the small Chicago label Chance, before the group went to Parrot Records then found success at Chess Records.

Hermitage Revealed (new documentary by Margy Kinmonth)

 I thoroughly enjoyed and recommend the documentary Hermitage Revealed, which had its UK premiere at the Curzon Soho last night and is showing today (Tuesday 9th September) at Curzon Ripon and Curzon Victoria at 6.30.

It was, director Margy Kinmonth said in a brief Q&A afterwards, made primarily for cinema, and although it will eventually be shown on the Beeb I urge you to catch it on the big screen if you can. We seem to float at will through the Hermitage's many spaces and are even taken backstage to see the Museum director's desk, piled high with papers and books. There is the motif of a little boy walking around the gallery who is at once the current director, Mikhail Piotrovsky - son of a previous director and brought up in the building - and us, the popeyed audience, as we look around at the riches on offer.

Pentel Man or Blu-Tack Thinking

There is no pleasure sweeter than the awareness that one is in possession of a perfectly valid reason to recycle old blog posts. Especially when what I wrote didn't really fit in with the rest of the post and I can now make a whole new post out of it without too much extra effort. Sort of a victimless crime. A while ago, I wrote:

The promise of new stationery rarely delivers, in my experience, but continuing to buy it is an act of hope. Which reminds me of a Clive James interview with Jonathan Miller and Robbie Coltrane, viewable here, in which the good doctor goes off on a two minute riff about things and Robbie Coltrane eagerly joins in. What isn't mentioned, and may be relevant, is Coltrane's background as an art student: there is a shop in the basement of Glasgow Art School, and another - at least there was - a few blocks away. I still remember the joy, aged about fourteen, of my first Rapidograph: such perfect things I'd be drawing from then on ...

The recent publication of a book by James Ward entitled Adventures in Stationery sparked off further thoughts - this time about writing, rather than drawing, implements, in particular those orange Pentel pens with a fine tip which I used to use for essay writing when I was at university.

Afterwards they seemed to disappear, only to surface on those I Heart the 80s type programmes. At least, I think they did. (Beat.) Yes, yes, I'm pretty sure I can remember Johnny Vegas saying in a hoarse voice: "If you didn't have a Pentel Pen you were NOBODY." Unless that was spacehoppers and Phil Kay, or rather Peter. Anyway, in the places I normally search for stationery I certainly have no memory of seeing such pens in recent years.

But today I had a quick look online, and guess what? Yep: you can still buy them in large, cheap packs just about everywhere, it seems. You lied to me, Vegas. Or possibly one of those pesky Kay twins. So I'm going to. Buy them in large, cheap packs online, that is. And if traces of an ancient creative flame don't immediately set my veins atingle thereafter it can only mean the manufacturers have switched to a different ink or something.

Living Legends - the Clark Brothers (event at the V&A, 22nd August)

Went to the V&A on Friday evening to see Steve Clark of dancing duo the Clark Brothers talk about his career in a presentation entitled Living Legends - the Clark Brothers.

I had only become aware of him a few weeks earlier when I was invited by Freddie Davies (autobiography available here, if you're new to this blog) to partake in the "bait" which is customary after a Water Rats meeting. Various Rats, including Chas McDevitt, entertained us after the meal but once that was formally over a slim and elderly man went over to the piano stool lately vacated by Rick Wakeman and proceeded to play a few tunes which had a big impact on me, partly because his playing reminded me of Fats Waller's approach. I talked to him afterwards and was astonished to learn that he'd actually worked with Waller and just about every other jazz great. This was the publicity material for the V&A evening:

Sketchiform - review of Free Fringe music-based revue

Bit of an unexpected show, this. Terrible title: Sketchiform, or possibly Sketchyform or even Sketch-y-form, like there's some kind of Welsh vibe going on, but never mind all that: this is, quite simply, the funniest revue I have seen in ages.

One year in the mid eighties I decided I would only see revues at the fringe. The warped logic was that happiness could not but be amplified further with each show. Alas, nohow and contrariwise. With the exception of a show called Writers Inc there were diminishing returns. I remember telling my then drama tutor, who I bumped into at the Fest, of my plan: he looked sceptical but sadly didn't forcibly stop me. Anyway, my money and my time I wasted.

Which is why Sketchiform (I'll stick with that spelling) at the Free Fringe has been such an unexpected delight. More difficult to describe than to experience - and the element of surprise is a big factor - but here are some of the items, though I don't know how they will come across in cold print (or on a lukewarm screen).

And I Ran With the Gang: review of Edinburgh Fringe play about Alan Longmuir of the Bay City Rollers

A few days ago I saw And I Ran With the Gang, a play about, and starring, Alan Longmuir of the Bay City Rollers. As plays go, it's hardly the most ambitious piece in the world, but then it wasn't really written for me. It is, as the narrator (an actor playing a Rollers-era version of Alan) says, a celebration, and the darker side of things isn't really explored. It was undoubtedly a hit with the former Rollers fans who came on the afternoon I was there. It was written by Liam Rudden, who I understand is working on Alan Longmuir's autobiography.

The production, which lasts about seventy minutes, is in three sections: first of all three actors tell the story of how the group came into being, and there's no doubt it's a fascinating tale. It comes over as a kind of fairytale, such is the speed with which we skip to their colossal international success. This opening third is done quite effectively, with a bit of comedy (the actor playing Les McKeown forever appearing too early in the narrative) which enlivens the brisk canter through the key events in the Rollers' saga. I am not deeply read in Rollers lore so can't say whether this version is one which would be agreed upon in every aspect by all the other group members, though I have read that the real Les is coming to see the show on the day I am writing this, which seems to indicate an endorsement. There's a bit of music at the start but this first section isn't punctuated by full songs.

Funny Bones the blog of the book ...

Doo wop fans might be relieved to know that a blog has now been created for the book Funny Bones: My Life in Comedy, so consider that destination, here, your one-stop (pet) shop for all things psittacine.

Radio interviews etc are all noted there, and there are a couple of recent ones. Kevin Cann (an expert on early Bowie, so maybe he'd like my Gnome Thoughts series) talks to Freddie on Channel Radio today, and Billy Butler of BBC Merseyside has already had an interview, listenable on ... but why not check out the other blog for details?

Freddie Parrotface Davies talks about his book on YTV news programme Calendar on 31st July

Freddie Parrotface Davies book signing at Blackpool Waterstones Saturday 2nd August 1.00-3.00pm

Freddie Davies and Blackpool go way back - about sixty years, in fact - so he's delighted to be having a book signing at Waterstones Blackpool this Saturday, August 2nd, between 1-3pm.

Freddie's long-awaited autobiography Funny Bones: My Life in Comedy, cowritten with Anthony Teague, was published on July 31st - fifty years after his TV debut on Opportunity Knocks.

Freddie was brought up in Salford but Blackpool helped give him the taste for performing. As a teenager he would travel there for the day to see the shows, waiting outside the stage door for a glimpse of a star and the chance of an autograph, enjoying comedians such as Bill Waddington (later Percy in Coronation Street) and Joe Church, and singer David Whitfield.

Freddie was entertainment manager at the Butlins Metropole Hotel in Blackpool in the early sixties, a time he remembers fondly. "In those days Blackpool was a great place to go if you wanted to have a look at most of the premier acts of the age. On a good day, there was nowhere nicer: a walk along the prom then a star-studded show in the evening. Blackpool always enjoyed a longer season than most with the famous Illuminations extending it. And the stars shone bright in 1962 with Doddy at the Opera House, Tommy Cooper and Nina and Frederik at the Queens; all the piers had big stars at the top of the bill. It was quite a season for us as well, as they launched Smirnoff vodka from the Metropole!"

In 1963 Freddie made the big decision to leave the security of Butlins in order try his luck as a full time comic. Blackpool was the obvious choice for a base: "In the sixties there were still about ten major summer shows in Blackpool plus big nightclubs and pubs, all needing acts."

Samuel Tweet spluttered his first in a Manchester club, but the homburg hat which started it all was bought in a nearly new shop in South Shore for two and sixpence (12½p). "It was for an impersonation of Arthur Lowe, who was in Coronation Street at the time, but when someone shouted out for a joke about a budgie I put it on and the voice somehow just came out. A few months later I got the call from Opportunity Knocks and that was it - the next twenty years just flew by."

Freddie appeared in many summer shows in Blackpool over the years, and there is still footage of his 1966 appearance at the ABC Theatre, introduced by Tony Hancock: "I was playing on the same stage I was working on every night," recalls Freddie, "so it was easy - a home crowd, you might say. I remember going onstage around that time, and the audience was really going 'Wow!' Such wonderful memories."

Freddie lived in Blackpool until the early seventies and returned to produce pantos there in the early eighties. Later the Disney film Funny Bones was shot there in 1994, featuring Freddie and George Carl as double act the Parker Brothers, along with Jerry Lewis and Lee Evans. "It really captured the spirit of Blackpool as it used to be and is now seen as a cult classic," Freddie says.

Funny Bones: My Life in Comedy by Freddie Davies with Anthony Teague is published by Scratching Shed. There is a 19.99 limited edition hardback and a 14.99 paperback edition. If you can't make it to Waterstones you can order a copy on the Scratching Shed website here.

What a Crazy World DVD review

I have just added the following review of the Network DVD release of What a Crazy World to a well-known shopping website. It rehashes some info from posts on this blog, so it's nothing regular readers won't already know, but I was keen to get something up quickly, and it might work here as an introduction to the posts about Alan Klein (click here) if you haven't read them.  

Readers directed to this blog by Network's newsletter may be interested to know that I have cowritten Funny Bones, the autobiography of veteran comedian Freddie "Parrotface" Davies, who was at Butlins Skegness around the same time as Alan Klein.



The stage version of What a Crazy World came about in 1962 when Gerry Raffles heard Joe Brown sing Alan Klein's song of that name on TV and commissioned him to write a musical for Theatre Workshop. Klein had tired of singing exclusively American songs during a stint at Butlins and wrote a song in the style of George Formby which didn't try to emulate the subject matter of American songs.

The resulting musical was a popular success despite some adverse critical reaction. Robert Stigwood offered to put it on in the West End with Mike Sarne in the lead but Klein opted for Michael Carreras' offer to make a film of it because "a film's gonna be there forever." And thank goodness he did, because now, more than fifty years on, we can still enjoy it on this Network DVD.

Existing fans of the film can be reassured that the restoration is fine. It's a joy to see such sharpness and clarity compared to the ropey off-air copy I have had to make do with until now. True, when the film begins, and at a few other points like a conversation between Joe Brown and Harry H Corbett, you hear a little faint scratchiness, but that's far preferable to overprocessing of sound. So to anyone who has been hesitating, worry no more - it's worth getting. And the film deserves a whole new generation of fans.

What a Crazy World DVD ... yes, it's good!

This is not a review of the film but simply a note to reassure anyone with doubts that the Network DVD release of What a Crazy World is indeed a good 'un. I have watched about half an hour so far, skipping ahead to see some of my favourite sequences (like Independence, filmed just off Denmark Street) and the picture quality compared to the ropey ebay copy I've had to tolerate up till now is remarkable: it's a joy to see such sharpness and clarity.

When the film begins and at some other points like a conversation between Joe Brown and his old man, Harry H Corbett, you can hear a little scratchiness, but that's far preferable to overprocessing. So to anyone who has been hesitating, worry no more - it's worth getting.

There is also something which Rich Podolsky, author of a recent book on Don Kirshner, would call ironic about the fact that a restored A Hard Day's Night has also recently been issued. I watched what I presume is the new version on TV last night. A Hard Day's Night was the film whose release suddenly made What a Crazy World look like a period piece, but here's hoping that now both films can be seen and appreciated without any need for comparison.

Ex nihilo or ex-Parrotface? a note on the tangled origins of Monty Python's Parrot sketch

The origins of Monty Python's Parrot Sketch have been well documented, but on the eve of the team's imminent reunion I think they could stand a little more examination. And as the cowriter of Freddie Davies' autobiography Funny Bones, to be published by Scratching Shed on July 31st, I may be able to add a further note.
 
The essence of the joke has been traced back to Ancient Greece but let's begin a little later, with Michael Palin's supremely evasive car salesman (above) in a sketch in the one-off pre-Python show How to Irritate People; if you are unfamiliar with it you can see it here.

As is well known to aficionados, that situation was reworked for a Python sketch with the garage replaced by a pet shop and, at Graham Chapman's suggestion, a parrot replaced the car as the faulty object. (At one point a toaster had also been mooted, which suggests it took a while for the shop's identity to settle.)

 You will find occasional references online to the idea being stolen from Freddie "Parrotface" Davies. That would be getting rather silly, as the late Colonel Chapman might have put it. Nevertheless, it's not beyond the bounds of possibility that Freddie's standup act may have made a small contribution towards this enduring sketch.

Gerry Goffin Pt 2

 (headline on Sky News website)

Two points as a follow-up to the previous post. I have found suggestions online that the singer of the demo of Up on the Roof is Tony Orlando. Think I assumed it was Goffin himself, without knowing or bothering to investigate whether he had any kind of voice: yes, that's the kind of attention to detail which this blog offers as standard. If it is Orlando, then that would certainly make sense: if you want your song to be recorded by Ben E King, then get someone who can make a demo in his style.

Secondly, thanks to the magic of the internet (or wundaweb, as we Bernard Cribbins fans cry it) I find myself transported back to that gig at the Jazz Cafe in Camden - or rather twenty fours earlier to the previous night's performance, but close enough - and Ben E King does sing Up on the Roof. The arrangement borrows from a later recording by James Taylor or Carole King, possibly both, and as I've remarked earlier his voice isn't what it was, but it's still worth hearing.

Gerry Goffin and The Man with the Golden Ear

The recent death of Gerry Goffin has been widely reported, and the importance of his contribution to popular music appropriately acknowledged in the British newspaper obituaries and articles I have looked through. You will find plenty of detailed obits online, and this post is not intended to compete with these, only to add a few personal notes.

One is very personal indeed: the memory of an evening in 2003, walking home from work, when the verse from It Might As Well Rain Until September popped into my head for some reason, and I was struck afresh by its simplicity and perfection: it's not particularly clever or witty but it sets up the song as well as any equivalent introduction crafted in pre-rock'n'roll days by the sort of writers who used to throng the Brill Building.

I immediately thought of the person I could share that thought with, the friend who would undoubtedly get it, and understand why it was important. Then I remembered that from now on it was no longer possible to do that.

Which is probably why those words of Gerry Goffin's had come to me in the first place. They said everything without a word wasted.

It approaches ...it is nigh.

Another videocap from the clip of What a Crazy World in the previous post, out in a month's time.  From left to right, Marty Wilde, David Nott, Alan Klein and Barry Bethel (I think).

Go to the Reel Streets website, here, for six pages of comparing locations as they were at the time of filming with today.

What a Crazy World DVD release delayed?

It looks as though the Network DVD of What a Crazy World has been delayed - the popular online shopping site where I ordered it now says it won't be delivered until July 7th, and that's the date now given on Network's own site.

But the good news is that Network have recently put up a clip on youtube which suggests that the transfer will, indeed, be as good as hoped: the above is a screengrab from that clip which is far sharper, and more subtle tonally, than the ropey off-air version I bought from a well-known auction website.

Breakfasted he is, and yet he's breakfastless

After the demise of my favourite record shop Cheapo a few years back (see here), another blow: I learnt this morning that the cafe in my local supermarket is to close at the end of this month. As I told the assistant, now I'll have to start making my own breakfast.

Alright, in some ways this will be no bad thing - and I have made my own breakfast in the past, I hasten to add. (Yes, really.) But the cafe was more than just a place to eat a meal prepared by other hands. It was a kind of refuge, providing an uncluttered table top when my own desk was messy (yes, yes, maybe I ought to address that too sometime), and over the last three years I have written or planned a substantial amount of my forthcoming book there.

Why? Well, unlike other local cafes - whose competition has, I'm told, finally proven too much to bear - once you sat down with the contents of your tray you were left alone: no passive-aggressive enquiries about whether you were finished; no whisking away of cups and plates, necessitating a mumbled "thank you" or an awkward and guilty silence - either way, something which you had to deal with, drawing you back to the workaday world.

It was a Madd, Madd, Madd, Madd, Madd world ... but not anymore.

I happened to notice that Madd, the mango dessert  emporium which took over the former home of Cheapo Cheapo Records in Rupert Street, Soho, is no more. A blog post says:

After 3 sweet years of dessert loving, we have bid our final farewell to our beloved Rupert Street location. The MADD team would like to send a very big thank you to every customer, staff and Soho “character” that has walked through our fluorescent yellow doors and joined in the experience. Leaving your first home is never easy but we are excited about our move and will never forget the memories here.
Thank you letting us be a part of your Soho experience and we look forward to seeing you very soon at our next grand launch.

"Never forget the memories"? Oh well, I suppose they're entitled to their own mango-themed brand of nostalgia. I would like to know the full story but I suppose today's economic climate is explanation enough. No one wants to go out and buy CDs, and they obviously aren't all that keen on mango desserts which were not, from my occasional forays, all that cheap.

Wonder what will take its place? Could there be scope for a Daniel Kitson-type show about all those businesses which alight there over the next few years, filled with an optimism which gradually leaks away ... I don't know how long Phil reigned there but I would like to think that he would have carried on had his health permitted. An article about Roy Orbison's years in the commercial wilderness (but still singing his heart out at county fairs or whatever gigs he could get) likened him to a mighty oak tree, staying the same, unmoveable, while all around him changed.

"Eat your heart out, Temptations!"

Doo wop being on my mind in the last few posts, perhaps now is a good time to remind you of the documentary Life Could Be a Dream, which I have reviewed here. It has been uploaded to yout*be, though who knows how long it will be there, so it's worth having a look. Thanks to the magic of the internet I can even take you to the precise place I mentioned in the review, namely the sequence at the end when lots of singers, including one of the Teenagers and Earl "Speedo" Carroll, have a bash at a couple of Smokey Robinson songs. It's ragged but will bring a smile to your face if you are anything like me.

On the Beat doo wop special featuring interview with Little Anthony available on BBC iplayer until 29th March

I have now listened to the On the Beat doo wop special and it can be thoroughly recommended. I think it's possible for US readers to access it too, so click here, wherever you are, if you want to hear an engrossing interview punctuated by lots of doo wop. The programme, which is on BBC Radio Merseyside and presented by Spencer Leigh, lasts two hours. I don't have the time to give a blow by blow account but will add a few thoughts here.

On the Beat Doo Wop Special on BBC iplayer soon

This is to alert readers that there will  be an On the Beat doo wop special with Little Anthony and the Imperials available on BBC iplayer shortly for one week - I only caught the very end of the progamme live so can't review it yet. Anthony Gourdine was part of the David Gest soul package in Liverpool recently but only got to sing two songs - though he is still in good voice, according to Spencer Leigh, who relayed the happy information that there might be a bit of a Little Anthony renaissance on the cards: he has a track on an album with Paul McCartney, there will be an album of him singing with other big names, and he has an autobiography coming out soon.

I will be interested, in particular, to read about his relationship with Richard Barrett, a name who ought to be more widely known to the general public.I have read in an excellent series of articles about Barrett that Anthony Gourdine resented, at the time, Barrett's disciplinarian and seemingly overprotective ways but now he understands what it was all about. You can find a series of articles about Barrett on the Classic Urban Harmony website here; scroll down and you will links on the left. Part 4 focuses on Little Anthony and the Imperials.

Now you can listen to some of those Decca sides ...

Seven of the nine Decca sides on Jasmine's Time Was Flamingos compilation can be found on yout*be. Sound is reasonably good except in the case of Jerri-Lee (a girl rather than the pumpin' piano man), which is a pity as the vaguely Spanish or South American backing is rather nice. Anyway, here, to save you effort, are those available recordings and handy notes. Think I'll stop now.

Helpless (everything but the kitchen sink: bells, white-sounding chorus and ending OTT in a bad way)
Where Mary Go (not unpleasant: sounds vaguely Jamaican-y in a Harry Belafonte way)
The Rock and Roll March (this is very corny, like something even  the Ravens would have turned up their noses at - possibly it was meant for them as there is a bass lead)
Ever Since I Met Lucy (a pop confection I can take or leave which doesn't seem to fit the group)

Kiss-A-Me (almost very good but production lets down)
Jerri-Lee (pleasant, Spanish-tinged pop)
Hey Now! (bit like Chance recordings but sounds a bit more regimented, formulaic - wonder if hearing higher quality recording would make a difference?)

Now click below if you can't see the clips.

The Flamingos 1953-1962

Below are my reviews of the two Flamingos compilations as posted on a well-known shopping website. They don't really contain anything which hasn't already been said on this blog, but they may be more concisely expressed.

New Flamingos compilation includes Decca sides

Wow! At last there is a Flamingos compilation which includes the sides they recorded for Decca.

It's issued by public domain label Jasmine, responsible for the earlier Dream of a Lifetime 2CD set, and the perfect complement to it in terms of track selection as it collects the End label recordings they missed out before - there was just a selection - so if you have both sets I presume that that will cover everything commercially issued by this superlative group up until the end of 1962.

Rather cannily, that earlier collection ended with I Only Have Eyes For You on the End label, thus ensnaring the casual purchaser, but at the expense of chronology as their Decca sides came in between Chess and End.They only included Ladder of Love from Decca.

There is an earlier post about the Dream of a Lifetime collection here. But to cut a long story short, it was the first compilation to assemble their Chance, Parrot, Chess and a selection of their End recordings in one place and was fairly cheap, as befits a public domain issue.

To my ears, however, sound quality was okay rather than great. If you listen to the Flamingos CD issued as part of the Chess 50th anniversary celebrations, or the Chance recordings issued alongside those of the Flamingos in 1993 (by what seems to be Vee Jay itself) then you can hear just how clear and full those original recordings really are. Jasmine, by contrast, don't seem to want to get too trebly and exposing of their (presumably vinyl) sources.

Perfect by name ...

A new clip show entitled The Perfect Morecambe and Wise is currently being broadcast on Saturday nights. Yes, there have been quite a few programmes about the pair recently but - based on the first two episodes - this particular assembly has the advantage that some of the sketches aren't overfamiliar through exposure on documentaries and other clip shows and their earlier ATV work is also represented.

I'm drawn to the little dance they do halfway through a Syd Lawrence number. Watching it you think: "Ah, maybe we're seeing some of the musical interludes to give a flavour of the original context," but then on they trot. If you are in the UK and reading this within five days of its being posted then go to BBC iplayer here, and start watching about 3.20 in.

Is it a classic clip? I dunno. But you can see the contrast between the two men: Ernie's transparent delight in the moves and Eric maintaining a kind of solemnity. The overall shape is pleasing: they are decorous, city-suited, and there is slow build to their climactic jitterbugging, the whole rounded off by a simple but smile-inducing bit of business.

But in the end there's not much point in comparing it to other, more celebrated routines. It's them. It's like that feeling I remember when once watching Oliver Hardy (sans Stan) in a less than great film called Zenobia listening to his daughter sing. Whatever these men do I want to watch it. And maybe it's also about seeing Ernie giving the lie to the idea that Eric Morecambe was really a single act. Anyway, if you can watch it, do so. Think I'll try it one more once ...


More Morecambe and Wise stuff here, here and halfway down here.

Freddie Davies autobiography (Funny Bones: My Life in Comedy) to be published July 31st

As I have a vested interest in promoting this I can't comment on its inherent quality but this is to let readers know that Freddie Davies' long-awaited autobiography Funny Bones: My Life in Comedy will be published on July 31st.

An apt date, as it's the eve of the fiftieth anniversary of Freddie's debut on Opportunity Knocks on August 1st 1964 when he told the budgie joke, already honed in the clubs, which brought him and his antic alter ego Samuel Tweet overnight fame. Read more about the book on the Scratching Shed Publishing website here. It will be available as a paperback and a limited edition hardback which you can pre-order via the website.

If you have read my earlier post on Mr Davies, here, you will know that the book has been in the planning stages for quite some time. Has it been worth the wait? Well, Stafford Hildred, writer of a great many biographies and autobiographies, calls it "The fascinating autobiography of the ultimate showbiz survivor." And Alwyn Turner, who has a very interesting page about comedians' biographies and memoirs here, describes it as "a good 'un." You can read about Alwyn's own books, including a biography of Terry Nation, on his website here.

And in case you were wondering - yes, Freddie is still performing. He can be seen at the Grand Theatre, Wolverhampton, on Wednesday May 28th at 2.30pm and 7pm as part of a Music Hall bill - details here. Samuel Tweet lives - and it looks like 2014 could be the Year of the Parrot.

Sedaka's Backstory or Neil Sedaka: King of Song (BBC 4 documentary available on iplayer)

[19/3/17: this programme was recently repeated on BBC 4 and is once again available on iplayer until 17th April 2017- the link below has been updated]

I almost didn't watch the recent documentary about Neil Sedaka, thinking it was a repeat of something which had been on BBC 4 a couple of years ago.

Nohow and contrariwise. Well, alright, not too contrariwise, as this programme, like its predecessor, was firmly in Mr Sedaka's corner: "more tribute than assessment" as the Daily Telegraph said here. I wiped the earlier show from my hard drive so can't make a detailed comparison but it's certainly my impression that Neil Sedaka: King of Song is several notches above the previous effort.

What a Crazy World to be released on DVD

Great news!What a Crazy World, the film version of Alan Klein's Stratford East musical, is finally going to get a legitimate release on DVD ... Alright, it's in June, so you'll have to hang on for a bit, but it's still worth marking.

The company is Network, which is also good news: they have recently issued Joe Brown's later film Three Hats For Lisa in an excellent print. And according to a well-known shopping website What a Crazy World will be "a brand-new transfer from the original film elements in its as-exhibited theatrical aspect ratio."

Not a great cover - they have taken it from a publicity picture of the actors not in character - but I suppose it indicates their target audience: not film buffs but fans of the individual stars. Nevertheless this is a great film, not simply a pop star vehicle, and if it reaches as many people as possible that is a Good Thing. I have written about it, and the work of Alan Klein, at length in this blog already. Go to this page for a guide to earlier posts.

This release may also be an incentive for me to update my posts about Alan Klein. I have gone through all the newspaper reviews of the shows he has been involved with over the years, mostly at Stratford East, so watch this blog.

I do hope Alan Klein is going to make some money from the release of this DVD and that it will get the film more of the recognition it thoroughly deserves. In an interview with Spencer Leigh (which can be found in one of the posts in the guide above) he talks about how the release of A Hard Day's Night a few months later made his film suddenly seem dated.

 It was changing fast from when I started writing the stage show in 1962. The Beatles had a big impact, they swamped the business. By the time the film came out, it was probably starting to age already. It was a document of its time, even though it's dated. All I was doing was saying what people felt.

 But the verve of What a Crazy World still shines through - and not having to rely on a ropey off-air copy will make it even better.

Lost Lover - the Magnificents

Talking of the Magnificents' Lost Lover (see previous post), it has recently been uploaded to youtube, so here 'tis, as the B side of Off the Mountain, their soundalike follow up to their big hit On the Mountain.

It's an odd track - it's not really doo wopified, as, say, the Flamingo's version of I Really Don't Want to Know is. Is it a sendup? Not sure, but the guitar is a big part of the record and the singers do seem to be taking a back seat. Could it be as simple as their being told to record what sounds like a country song and their hearts weren't in it?

Now We Are Four ...

As it is now the fourth anniversary of that day in December 2009 I started this blog with the intention of archiving posts from Steve's Kewl Doo Wop Shop written in 2000 I decided to commemorate my achievement by submitting the contents to OSTMB, the UK-based Office for Standards in Music Blogs.

This was done on a voluntary basis and I'm not sure what I thought might be gained from doing so. Above is a scan of the printout I received in the post today. After much waiting on the telephone I managed to speak to one of the inspectors for ten minutes (he put the phone down mid-sentence which I thought was discourteous, to say the least).

But I surreptitiously recorded the last eight minutes of the conversation so thought I would give a report here. My advice to other bloggers, however, is don't bother seeking out this organisation. If you gain pleasure from writing posts then go on doing so. Anyway, here are the "highlights" of what I was told combined with a more detailed email.

They turned him off (Russell Davies show axed)

Big news in my little world, and I regret to say it appears to be a done deal, though there is a campaign: Russell Davies' Sunday night programme on the art of the songwriter on BBC Radio 2 is no more.

And so ends a line which stretched, for me, from the seventies and Benny Green in the same slot (before it was shunted from the afternoon, during the Davies era, to make room for the chumminess of Ms Paige).

It's also a source of sadness because although I believe he will still be presenting the odd programme for Radio 2 this marks the end of regular broadcasting of the last of those presenters who educated me in pre-rock'n'roll music, most notably Benny Green, Hubert Gregg, Ken Sykora and Robert Cushman.
Of that quartet only Robert Cushman is still alive, although as far as I know he is no longer broadcasting.

Lou Reed

 I have just heard that Lou Reed has died so I am reposting this piece from 2012.

The Word - a magazine I ought to have read more often than I did - is shortly to be no more; its final edition is in UK shops just now.

Others will be better placed to eulogise; I only mention it because skimming through its last hurrah reminded me of an early post on this blog, and a matter which has been occupying me on and off for some time, namely the content of Lou Reed's record collection, stolen in the sixties.

In an interview with John Medd in the final edition of The Word he mentions a few artists presumably among those purloined, and it's gratifying to see that he liked "anything by the Flamingos" and the Diablos' The Wind, a near neighbour of Flamingos recordings at their ethereal best:

Reuben, Reuben (1983 film with Tom Conti)

Have just watched Reuben, Reuben for the second time - with a gap of about thirty years in between. The first time was, if memory serves, at the former Glasgow Odeon, now gone or translated, the second time was last night, with the film shrunk to the dimensions of my fairly small telly screen.

Is it a good film? Not sure, although I didn't stop watching it last night, which must mean something. Mind you, I'd mislaid the remote, so maybe I just couldn't be *rsed with all the kerfuffle of stopping and starting.  The ending is quite something, and I'd retained that from the first viewing; avoid the w*kipedia page as it gives everything away - and I mean everything.

Although I momentarily fancied myself as a critic in those days - I did a few pieces for the student paper - I think I saw films as purely entertainment. I was studying Drama, and it was quite nice to feel free  not even to shape critical thoughts in my head if I wasn't sitting watching a play. The Glasgow Film Theatre, or GFT, would give out a closely printed A4 for most of its films as you filed in; I would read these but I think I made a conscious decision not to join the game.

Anyway, that's by the by. What it means is I don't have a handy set of notes to compare my reactions then and now. All I really remember is that the ending made an impression. And that I was in two minds about the film as a whole, while accepting that the central performance was a piece of bravura acting.

Crackerjack May 1964

Clips from this edition of Crackerjack have has featured in several documentaries (Danny Baker's programme on Peter Glaze and The Unforgettable Leslie Crowther) but I haven't seen it since a repeat on TV in the late eighties.

It's Eamon Andrews' final programme and although I probably saw it as a kid I don't remember it from then: for me Crackerjack was always presented by Leslie Crowther, but Pip Hinton and Gillian Comber  and of course Peter Glaze are present and correct in memory, though I seem to remember Gilliam Comber as more maternal, less glam.

They're not juvenile delinquents ...

A clip of 14 Karat Soul not seen before (by me) is cause for celebration. Presumably this is Sesame Street as the background is the same as for their version of the ABCs of Love. Stay tuned for developments re my doo wop presentation. Forty years boiled into an hour. How can I do it? I did jokily suggest to the kind person who has encouraged me that five hours would be more realistic but he wasn't wholly convinced. Also going back to basics, the play which I occasionally alluded to in my posts on the Kewl Steve site may be more realistically within sight of a production, and one of the lead characters is obsessed with doo wop. Ee, it's all happening, or it might be. Also in the pipeline is a book but, cursed as I am with the ability to talk a good game I shall shut up until matters become more concrete. I ache for the moment I hold a hardback in my hands. Anyway, here be the group:

There'll be fifteen minutes of expoundin' my thesis, and then you'll holler "Please, DO stop!"

No time, I'm afraid, to write a detailed post, so consider this an interim bulletin for those who might care. This blog is going back to basics as I have been asked to prepare a presentation for students about doo wop music. I will post audio when it's done and add the occasional entry here as I go along if you want to keep up with my progress.

Which task has made me think back to Phil Groia's They All Sang On the Corner, the first book I read devoted to the subject. I have to admit it didn't live up to my expectations. Not that there wasn't good info in it, but as the first book I read specifically about doo wop, there was a bit too much of the trainspotter about it. Yes, I know: following the changing members of the Cadillacs, etc is important, and there were some great phrases in the book, for example describing Frankie Lymon as the little boy who "lit up like a Christmas tree" whenever a microphone was placed before him. But the "list" aspect seemed - to me, anyway - to devalue the book a bit.

Against that, of course, you could say what's a history of the subject for if not to set the record straight? And such books may be better regarded as reference books than sparkling single-sitting reads. 

I mention this partly because I have just received Johnny Keyes' book Du-Wop (sic), have already read half, and it really puts you there, in the middle of a group. It's fairly short but it answers questions I've often thought about but don't think I've seen answered before.

In particular, Keyes says that the backing musicians for doo wop groups in the studio would compose arrangements which essentially came from the singers' acapella version of the song, though it would be the musicians who would get all the credit. Interesting, too, to note that the musicians were usually older and could be contemptuous of the groups. If a band was supporting a group or groups live, it could be that a current hit might be played at the wrong tempo, either through negligence or a deliberate attempt to mess the singers up. But the main thing is that, according to Keyes, the real creativity was in working out the vocal arrangement then bringing it into the studio, whereupon the band would quickly work up a backing.

I will have more to say on that and maybe some other books in my next post. So join me, why don't you, in my quest to boil down forty years' enthusiasm for streetcorner sounds into one measly hour. Which gives a whole 'nother meaning to Sixty Minute Man, hence the above title.

Last tired gasp of Bizarre Beatles Coincidences

 

 One final astonishing set of Beatles coincidences has recently been sent to me by a reader of this blog. I present them below.

The production of the Beatles' Lady Madonna owes a great deal to Humphrey Lyttleton's Bad Penny Blues. That much is beyond dispute.

What is less well known, however, is that "Bad Penny" was a character in the comic Smash!, created by Leo Baxendale and based on his own character Minnie the Minx in the Beano; Baxendale had left DC Thomson by the mid sixties so could no longer draw the anarchic tomboy he had created.

Thunderbirds are Wash 'n' Go!

It's not music-related, but I just had a really good idea which I'd like to share.

I like to swim, and I take shampoo and shower gel for afterwards. Obviously there's no point in taking big heavy bottles so I usually decant stuff into two small bottles, but even so it seems a lot to be carrying about, especially if you've got a back problem like me. I wondered about having one bottle with two compartments, maybe a stopper at top and bottom, or perhaps having a tiny bottle of shampoo within a bigger (but not too big) gel bottle with a wide neck.

Birch tree agonised - please advise

On a certain social networking site I have been entertaining (or not) family and friends with youtube clips of fave songs which actually might be better placed here. I think the reason I haven't placed them here is that a few lines of writing doesn't seem adequate, and the best pieces on this blog have, I think, been the longer, more considered ones. But those arose out of having no other writing activities on the go, a situation which has changed. So, on the understanding that this is low level, Division Two stuff in terms of care, the following series of posts contain some of those songs and what I wrote to my limited audience at the time. Or, as in this case, writing taken from an earlier blog post.

Not long after the news of his death I was upstairs in Tower Records in Picadilly Circus when they were playing On Again! On Again! (the album). There was an additional pleasure in hearing it unexpectedly, and at such a time. Not exactly on the scale of the vigil at the Dakota, but someone working in the shop must have been responding to the death - or scenting a marketing opportunity. Whichever it was, the music felt like a glass of cool, clear water after whatever aural alcopops had just been blasting out, and I delighted in being reminded of his capacity for taking pains with details - "rascally episcopal", "pussyfooting butcherman", not to mention "wild as little strawberries" - but it was The Rain on the Mountainside, with its blind persistence and final note of defiant hope, which got to me most - and it is clearly poetry, not comic verse. A bare transcript cannot convey the strange half-growl ("singing in hi-i-i-is") with which he invests the final line.

As a sort of companion, here is Van Morrison's The Philosopher's Stone.

To our joys a C.L.O.G.(S.)

When Frank Zappa used a phrase like "cretinous love songs of greasy simplicity" he may have been thinking about records like this. I don't think I've heard this before today but it sounds awfully familiar - at least I could predict every change. And I love it.

I'm presuming these Markeys are not the Mar-Keys of Last Night fame - in fact I'd be willing to bet money on it. The sound is not dissimilar to various New Orleans vocal groups I'm familiar with from a compilation entitled Lost Dreams.

I looked at Unca Marvy's website and found a reference to a song called Eternal Love recorded by the Heralds, but this is a different song. Then there was a page on Marv's site about the Marquees, which mentions there were lots of groups with a similar name ... You know what? In the past I would have happily gone down  a series of alleyways and come up with some vaguely interesting discoveries.

But if you're wondering about the heading for this post, wonder no more.  

The AMAZING Tale of the Macca from the East (from Bizarre Beatles Coincidences)

                                                                                                 Ah, go on, give us a go ...


Yes, there are still many AMAZING Beatles stories to tell, and they can all be found in my forthcoming book, Bizarre Beatles Coincidences. 

You can, for example, read about how Cilla Black's real name inspired the title of a Beatles album ... or did it?

But it's another curious tale I have to tell in this post, a mish-mash of coincidences and unlikely events coalescing. I call it ...

Bizarre Beatles Coincidences - the Frankest Tale of All (buy the book)

My final extract from Bizarre Beatles Coincidences is perhaps the most staggering of all. After this you really will have to buy the book. I call this story ...

More stuff about sitcoms

On the general subject of new or newish sitcoms I have been unimpressed with two of the latest, Family Tree and Big School. The former is directed by Christopher Guest, and I've never been that keen on his films, so perhaps enthusiasists can discount what I have to say. But I'll try to say it anyway in case anyone else has been underwhelmed.

More thoughts about Count Arthur Strong

There's an interview with Steve Delaney, creator of Count Arthur Strong, here. It's worth reading all the way through, but the responses to two questions in particular interested me. One is that he both knows and doesn't know Arthur: that is, he knows instinctively how the character will react but couldn't necessarily articulate that beforehand:

A further extract from Bizarre Beatles Coincidences (please help fund the book)

Another extract from my forthcoming book Bizarre Beatles Coincidences. Please consider contributing to my Kickstarter page as the American publishers withdrew their offer once they read the completed MS for some reason.

STARKEY - THE BALD FACTS

I'm sorry that I doubted you, I was so unfair
You were in a car crash and you lost your hair

So runs the lyric of Ringo Starr's Don't Pass Me By, one of Ringo's most accomplished compositions, according to top Beatles authority Howard Goodall, who has singled out that couplet in particular for its "playfulness, originality and invention." He continues:

The unexpectedness of Starkey's vision, perhaps as a result of the Indian soujourn which had such a profound effect on him, enables us all to see the world afresh.

It is a bold, disturbing image, certainly. But original? I think not, Mr Goodall.

Goodbye, for the moment, to Count Arthur Strong

 

 [Find a revised version of this post here.]

It doesn't really need to be said, because you'll either get it or you won't, but the TV adaptation of Count Arthur Strong has been beautifully judged and got better with each succeeding episode. I have just watched the final episode (there is definitely going to be a second series) and it's difficult to describe except in the most general times - I don't want to ruin the surprise for those yet to see it on iplayer.

But the real achievement is the marriage of comedy and sentiment - no, that's not fair, because that implies unearnt emotion. You're taken into the lives of these strange and isolated characters - the cafe regulars - and really believe they have been united by the childlike Count Arthur. In the last episode in particular you see the effect when, for a while, he isn't there.