| (Drumming anoraks who choose to
scrutinise the picture with an intense scrute may well notice that the
snare drum being used is a blue pearl finish Premier Royal Ace 14" by
5.5" from the early 1960s, part of another kit in my possession.)
Al's buggered off to live in
Missouri, and Richard Lewis is in Paris
(It's all right, boys, I can take a hint) leaving me short to the tune
of two whole musical partners in crime. Still, there's Bill
Kibby-Johnson, my endlessly versatile neighbour. When not playing any
one of a thousand instruments, Bill is an authority on the history of
piano making, as can be seen from his
website.
Talking of versatility, I don't
just confine myself to hitting things. Sometimes, I pick up a guitar
and play it hamfistedly, but with great enthusiasm. Examples of my
multi-tracked one-man bandery include the following:
NEW - I Can't Say No - a
curious offering here from Frankie Tiddles and the East Anglian Dance
Orchestra, singing the praises of over-indulgence. Note well the
expansive, and expensive, backing vocals of the Dagenham Girl Peter
Skellerns.
Snipers in a Council Flat - An homage to one of the forgotten stars of
the golden age of variety, written by an old university mate of mine,
with some additional lyrics by myself. The inspiration for the whole
thing was the 'Duke of Uke', Willie Frywell, whose career was
overshadowed somewhat by the success of his rival George Formby. I'll
let his entry from Who Was Who in British Music Hall by T.
Aston Hippodrome (Kean and Thomson, London, 1993) fill in the other
details: "Willy Frywell's slight claim on fame rests solely on his
mythical performance on a lost BBC radio programme from July 1944. Born
in Grantham in 1920, tracking down any other facts about Willy's life
and musical career is now near impossible. His legend has been passed
on, mainly due to his ambiguously themed folk songs, written during the
dark days of the second world war, and intended, perhaps, to lift the
nation's spirits as the war dragged on and also to make them think
about just what they were fighting against. But if this was his
intention, it has been subverted to a dangerous degree... The BBC
programme, lost along with so many others during the Pebble Mill fire
of 1946, featured Willy and his trademark ukelele performing four of
his songs - possibly including these three songs, the only songs still
around that are attributed to his name: 'Hitler in a Kilt',
'V2 for Victory' and 'Browning My Trousers'. Which brings us to the
dangerous subversion that also ensured his name lives on. Neo-nazi
group Combat 18 adopted 'Hitler In A Kilt' as one of their anthems
during the 1980s. It has also been sung at BNP rallies, the song sheets
crediting 'W Frywell' with the lyrics. It's hard to tell whether Willy
would have been pleased or appalled, the only clues lie in his songs,
which can be interpreted as coming either from a Nazi sympathiser, or
from someone who simply intended to make Britain think, and make
Britain laugh at the same time. We'll never know the truth, but one
thing is certain, Churchill wouldn't have liked him!"
Shame and Scandal in the Family - A traditional ditty from the West Indies,
recorded at one point by the Wailers (when Peter Tosh was a member).
However, being whiter than the Ace of Tippex, I was introduced to it by
the very splendid Lance Percival version, which this rendition
resembles more closely than anything else. Listen out for the debut of
the Shithouse and Gastric Brass Band - one man, one trumpet, no talent,
but a lot of technology.
Putting on the Style - As I am a devotee of the proto-punk known
as skiffle, it was inevitable that I should pay an affectionate tribute
to Lonnie Donegan. And yes, that's a real, live washboard.
I Must Be in Love - Watching the Rutles for the millionth time
recently, I was reminded what a great song this is, pastiche or no.
Hats off to Neil Innes.
Tear Stained Letter - When I went to see Richard Thompson a while
ago, he opened the show with this number and it fair took the top of my
head off. The erudite Lewis has questioned
the quality of the lyrics, particularly the "coffee/fiddle-de-dee"
rhyme, but I remain a devotee.
* BMS is not only a song, but
also a drink - a vile concoction, consisting of Carlsberg Special Brew
and Two Dogs alcoholic lemonade. Hell, we were students...
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