Yesterday Once More, Thirty Times, for Three Hours
60 years from now, when we are aged beyond the recognition of ourselves in the mirror, and we turn in terror as we realise we forgot what we were terrified about, there will be those of us who can still use our limbs and our throats with enough gusto to be annoying in multiple locations. If we are so blessed, we may find ourselves in the cast of a Sunday afternoon of retrotianment, fondly mumbling the dulcit tones of our youth. I for one will represent an aged Kurt Cobain, during his now infamous dead stage. Others (Zaf) might bang out an old Prince tune.
And so, I had the pleasure of attending such an event not too long ago. First things first: I had a choice as to whether of not I went. I genuinely thought - and still think - that it would be great if I was still active enough in my golden years to do what these guys and 'gals' did. That said, I also anticipated a level of humour which maybe even transcended the irony of the event itself.
You can imagine my absolute, genuine delight when Marcia, Phyllis and Jackie came out to perform Teresa Brewer's "Music, Music, Music":
Yes. Yes indeed. I knew this afternoon was to be a treat. But my expectations were quickly dashed when Ivy Dempsey showed almost disappointing dignity and ability as she performed Patti Page's "Tennessee Waltz":
A shortlived victory, oldies. Bob quickly put the afternoon back on track with a baffling routine. I'm not sure if it's worse that he probably knew what he was doing. None of us did.
As Frank and Scotty Sang in my Brain, I wished I'd had a wide-angle lens, because this was a technofest. The singers had head mics so they had the freedom of dance and umbrella-twirl, and the musicians all had those goggles on with the lights, so they could hammer their synths whilst in the foggy dark. Awesome.
Sandy here made a good effort to reach all the notes, and we all politely pretended not to notice that she had forgotten to complete the more challenging routine of getting dressed:
Incidentally, Darrell up there on the right was a very good singer indeed. I found myself looking down the programme for his numbers, of which there were thankfully a few. UNLIKE THE NUMBER OF SONGS IN GENERAL. At this point I noticed that, a cool one-quarter through the entire running, a whole hour had passed, and no-one was even hinting at getting in the mood to hurry things along. They knew they had us trapped.
Notice this is an impersonation of fat Elvis. Out of several Elvis numbers - all fat Elvis. I wonder why.
We were, I thought, nearing the end of the show now at 2 hours. And as you can see, by this point, although there was still no hurry, sense was no longer featuring prominently.
The Twist
The Locomotion - every bit as sexy as it was in the 50s
The "Non-descript-free-for-all" - aka the Senility Shuffle.
Incredibly, even at 2.5 hours, there was absolutely no sense whatsoever of the need to wrap up. Now we are being treated to dance medleys - the longest non-final finale I have ever witnessed.
The costume department peaks too early...
This man had to come onstage to ask where the Wizard of Oz performance was being held. Unfortunately no-one knew, so he didn't bother going to dress up.
Bud does it his way. The long way.
Three hours later, all hope of finding a convenience store for hard booze was lost. Bless them for actually DOING stuff, and it was kind of cute. But really, it was very, very funny indeed. You know when a joke becomes so worn out that it becomes funny all over again? Well, so too did we break through a very special pain barrier here, as the spectacle become vague disinterest, via extreme tedium, back through to the euphoria compounded by utter disbelief at having sat through a 3-hour show and seeing the end in site. I (I imagine unlike a majority of the 60+ audience) didn't even take a toilet break. I didn't even have the excuse of a worn-out, 80-year-old bladder like everyone else in the room, to make good my escape.
It was truly inspirational. So much so that I have begun work on my own 80s and 90s show, scheduled for the year 2056. Confirmed tracks and tentative running order as follows. Any further suggestions or amendments gratefully received. This is just the first half.
1. Spice Girls - "Wannabe"
2. The Jesus Lizard - "Puss"
3. NWA - "One Less Bitch"
4. Erasure - "Stop!"
5. Nirvana - "Tourette's"
6. Salt 'n' Peppa - "Let's Talk About Sex"
7. House of Pain - "Jump Around"
8. David Gray - (track tbc)
9. Prince - "Cream"
10. Alice Cooper - "18 Till I Die"
11. Rush - "Spirit of Radio"
12. Big Black - "Steelworker" / Rapeman - "
13. Depeche Mode - "Suffer Well"
14. Nickelback - "Photograph"
15. Queens of the Stone Age - "Feelgood Hit of the Summer"
16. Nine Inch Nails - "Closer"
17. B-52's - "Rock Lobster"
18. The Prodigy - "Poison"
19. Placebo - "Nancy Boy"
And so, I had the pleasure of attending such an event not too long ago. First things first: I had a choice as to whether of not I went. I genuinely thought - and still think - that it would be great if I was still active enough in my golden years to do what these guys and 'gals' did. That said, I also anticipated a level of humour which maybe even transcended the irony of the event itself.
You can imagine my absolute, genuine delight when Marcia, Phyllis and Jackie came out to perform Teresa Brewer's "Music, Music, Music":
Yes. Yes indeed. I knew this afternoon was to be a treat. But my expectations were quickly dashed when Ivy Dempsey showed almost disappointing dignity and ability as she performed Patti Page's "Tennessee Waltz":
A shortlived victory, oldies. Bob quickly put the afternoon back on track with a baffling routine. I'm not sure if it's worse that he probably knew what he was doing. None of us did.
As Frank and Scotty Sang in my Brain, I wished I'd had a wide-angle lens, because this was a technofest. The singers had head mics so they had the freedom of dance and umbrella-twirl, and the musicians all had those goggles on with the lights, so they could hammer their synths whilst in the foggy dark. Awesome.
Sandy here made a good effort to reach all the notes, and we all politely pretended not to notice that she had forgotten to complete the more challenging routine of getting dressed:
Incidentally, Darrell up there on the right was a very good singer indeed. I found myself looking down the programme for his numbers, of which there were thankfully a few. UNLIKE THE NUMBER OF SONGS IN GENERAL. At this point I noticed that, a cool one-quarter through the entire running, a whole hour had passed, and no-one was even hinting at getting in the mood to hurry things along. They knew they had us trapped.
Notice this is an impersonation of fat Elvis. Out of several Elvis numbers - all fat Elvis. I wonder why.
We were, I thought, nearing the end of the show now at 2 hours. And as you can see, by this point, although there was still no hurry, sense was no longer featuring prominently.
The Twist
The Locomotion - every bit as sexy as it was in the 50s
The "Non-descript-free-for-all" - aka the Senility Shuffle.
Incredibly, even at 2.5 hours, there was absolutely no sense whatsoever of the need to wrap up. Now we are being treated to dance medleys - the longest non-final finale I have ever witnessed.
The costume department peaks too early...
...running out of costumes. But not time, it would seem.
Ivy's back. She's good, but these performers are just a little TOO good...
This man had to come onstage to ask where the Wizard of Oz performance was being held. Unfortunately no-one knew, so he didn't bother going to dress up.
Bud does it his way. The long way.Three hours later, all hope of finding a convenience store for hard booze was lost. Bless them for actually DOING stuff, and it was kind of cute. But really, it was very, very funny indeed. You know when a joke becomes so worn out that it becomes funny all over again? Well, so too did we break through a very special pain barrier here, as the spectacle become vague disinterest, via extreme tedium, back through to the euphoria compounded by utter disbelief at having sat through a 3-hour show and seeing the end in site. I (I imagine unlike a majority of the 60+ audience) didn't even take a toilet break. I didn't even have the excuse of a worn-out, 80-year-old bladder like everyone else in the room, to make good my escape.
It was truly inspirational. So much so that I have begun work on my own 80s and 90s show, scheduled for the year 2056. Confirmed tracks and tentative running order as follows. Any further suggestions or amendments gratefully received. This is just the first half.
1. Spice Girls - "Wannabe"
2. The Jesus Lizard - "Puss"
3. NWA - "One Less Bitch"
4. Erasure - "Stop!"
5. Nirvana - "Tourette's"
6. Salt 'n' Peppa - "Let's Talk About Sex"
7. House of Pain - "Jump Around"
8. David Gray - (track tbc)
9. Prince - "Cream"
10. Alice Cooper - "18 Till I Die"
11. Rush - "Spirit of Radio"
12. Big Black - "Steelworker" / Rapeman - "
13. Depeche Mode - "Suffer Well"
14. Nickelback - "Photograph"
15. Queens of the Stone Age - "Feelgood Hit of the Summer"
16. Nine Inch Nails - "Closer"
17. B-52's - "Rock Lobster"
18. The Prodigy - "Poison"
19. Placebo - "Nancy Boy"
posted by JS at 3:52 PM
3 Comments:
Fucking NickelBACK?! How dare you.
Dear - you need a bit of ballad relief from all the hard rock and technopound.
jonners man!
is is it truly you?! have i unearthed the curly haired head of justice from the sun baked sands of phoenix? the grains filter through your flaxen locks as granulates of sugar through the unfurled fingers of a colonial corporal; a corporal whose eyes squint toward a new and unimagined aspect of a star we simply call...sun. i am that man jonners. i have polished each brassy button to realise your twinkling eyes in finely planned increments down my tuniced torso. a series of sparrow heads running from the adams apple to the gushing loins. i salute you in the finest tradition jonners, you and your techno wonders. do not forget me old chum.
yours in bugum
peter of duplock.
ps glad you are having plenty of time for shits and giggles. write me bag ya nobber!!
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