Surf The Internet, NewsRevue Lyric, 29 August 1995

The Web was pretty new, changing rapidly all the time and only just starting to become a big thing in 1995.

I wrote several versions of this lyric – the first in August, the other two in November. I think Version 2 is the best so I am showing it first. I think this got a fair old run in the show, hence the upgrading.

Prescient lyric, I’d call it. Prescient.

SURF THE INTERNET – NOW UPGRADED!! – VERSION 2

(To the Tune of “Surfin’ USA”)

VERSE 1

If everybody had a modem and PC to connect,
Then everybody’d be surfin’ across the Internet;
You bet their wearing their shell suits, and baggy anoraks,
And greasy, smelly, streaked hair-dos,
Surf the Internet.

CHORUS 1

They’ll all be surfin’ in Cambridge, {CHORUS: inside jargon Internet}
And up in Milton Keynes; {CHORUS: Gopher and Kermit the Internet}
The latest wheeze for accountants, {CHORUS: Birdshit and Dogspoo the Internet}
Instead of counting beans; {CHORUS: just made up some crap on the Internet}
In the house or the office, {CHORUS: Website analysis the Internet}
The flat or maisonette; {CHORUS: Virtual paralysis….}
ALL: Everybody’s gone surfin’
On the Internet.

VERSE 2

We’ll all be planning out a Web, with Netscape front, no doubt,
We’re waxing down our Barbours although we never go out;
Upgrading our hardware for Windows ’95,
And if we didn’t send you e-mail, you wouldn’t know we’re still alive.

CHORUS 2

They’ll all be surfin’ in Oxford, {CHORUS: inside jargon Internet}
And down in Basingstoke; {CHORUS: Gopher and Kermit the Internet}
Better key in a smiley, {CHORUS: Birdshit and Dogspoo the Internet}
So readers know its a joke;-) {CHORUS: just made up some crap on the Internet}
In the house or the office, {CHORUS: Website analysis the Internet}
The flat or maisonette; {CHORUS: Virtual paralysis….}
Everybody’s gone surfin’ on the Internet.
BTW surfin’ across the Internet,
IMO they’re surfin’ on the Internet,
FYI we’re surfin’ on the Internet,
TTFN surfin’, surf the Internet.

Here are the Beach Boys singing Surfin’ USA, with lyrics:

For completist collectors of my lyrics, here are the other two versions of this lyric – you can pick’n’mix if you wish.

Version One:

SURF THE INTERNET
(To the Tune of “Surfin’ USA”)

VERSE 1

If everybody had a modem and PC to connect,
Then everybody’d be surfin’ across the Internet;
You bet their wearing their shell suits, and baggy anoraks,
And greasy, smelly, streaked hair-dos,
Surf the Internet.

CHORUS 1

They’ll all be surfin’ in Cambridge, {CHORUS: inside jargon Internet}
And up in Milton Keynes; {CHORUS: Gopher and Kermit the Internet}
The latest wheeze for accountants, {CHORUS: Birdshit and Dogspoo the Internet}
Instead of counting beans; {CHORUS: just made up some crap on the Internet}
In the house or the office, {CHORUS: Website analysis the Internet}
The flat or maisonette; {CHORUS: Virtual paralysis….}
ALL: Everybody’s gone surfin’
On the Internet.

VERSE 2

We’ll all be planning out a Web, with Netscape front, no doubt,
We’re waxing down our Barbours although we never go out;
We’re all into the jargon, and smiley epithets,
BTW surfin’ across the Internet,
IMO they’re surfin’ on the Internet,
FYI we’re surfin’ on the Internet,
TTFN surfin’, surf the Internet.

Version Three:

SURF THE INTERNET – NOW UPGRADED FOR WINDOWS 95!!
(To the Tune of “Surfin’ USA”)
VERSE 1

If everybody had a modem and PC to connect,
Then everybody’d be surfin’ across the Internet;
You bet their wearing their shell suits, and baggy anoraks,
And greasy, smelly, streaked hair-dos,
Surf the Internet.

CHORUS 1

They’ll all be surfin’ in Cambridge, {CHORUS: let’s all go surf the Internet}
And up in Milton Keynes; {CHORUS: jargon and stuff on the Internet}
The latest wheeze for accountants, {CHORUS: what’s it all worth on the Internet?}
Instead of counting beans; {CHORUS: how ‘ja’ kill a smurf on the Internet?}
In the house or the office, {CHORUS: meet lots of Yanks on the Internet}
The flat or maisonette; {CHORUS: porn for your wanks, hmmmm ……..}
ALL: Everybody’s gone surfin’
On the Internet.

VERSE 2

We’ll all be planning out a Web, and dreaming of Sandra Bullock’s,
We’re loading up new software, Netscape’s a load of bollocks;
Upgrading our hardware for Windows ’95,
And if we didn’t send you e-mail, you wouldn’t know we’re still alive.

CHORUS 2

They’ll all be surfin’ in Oxford, {CHORUS: let’s all go surf the Internet}
And down in Basingstoke; {CHORUS: jargon and stuff on the Internet}
Better key in a smiley, {CHORUS: what’s it all worth on the Internet?}
So readers know its a joke;-) {CHORUS: how ‘ja’ kill a smurf on the Internet?}
In the house or the office, {CHORUS: meet lots of Yanks on the Internet}
The flat or maisonette; {CHORUS: porn for your wanks….hmmmm}
Everybody’s gone surfin’ on the Internet.
BTW surfin’ across the Internet,
IMO they’re surfin’ on the Internet,
FYI we’re surfin’ on the Internet,
TTFN surfin’, surf the Internet.

Special Relationship Medley, NewsRevue Material, Perhaps Unsubmitted, 15 August 1995

This material is a bit all over the place – I have a feeling it was not submitted in this form but a holding pen waiting for some other material and a bit of mix and match. Other medleys had done well for me that year.

I did submit the Star Spangled School Tie separately at one point. I quite like the Al Gore short.

SPECIAL RELATIONSHIP MEDLEY
(To various US and UK patriotic tunes)
LAND OF HOPELESS TORIES
(To the tune of “Land of Hope and Glory”)

Land of hopeless Tories,
Mother of all teams;
How can we extol thee,
Who art born for greed?
Wider still and wider gulf twixt poor and rich,
God who made John Major can’t you make him less kitsch,
God who made Mag Thatcher, can’t you silence the bitch?

AL GORE’S BODY
(To the tune of “John Brown’s Body”)

Al Gores body stands a-sweating in his suit,
Al Gore’s body stands perspiring in his suit,
Al Gore’s body stands a-sweltering in his suit,
And it is a Gucci one.
Gore-ee, Gore-ee, Al and Tipper
Gore-ee, Gore-ee, Al and Tipper
Gore-ee, Gore-ee, Al and Tipper
In a Fiarucci thong.

RULE NEWT GINGRICH
(To the tune of “Rule Britannia”)

While Clinton never never never toked or poked,
Newt Gi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ingrich was acquiring the right wing vote,
In order to so gently shake Bill by the throat;
This was for starters, as violence stormed the land,
And Guardian A-a-a-angels steamed the train.
Rule Newt Gingrich,
He thinks he rules the States,
Newt and Clinton never never shall be mates.

STAR SPANGLED OLD SCHOOL TIE
(To the tune of “Star Spangled Banner”)

I say, can you see by the club’s faded light,
What so proudly we wear since the day we ceased schooling?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the commercial plight,
Copped us all the top jobs even if young and foolish.
The school tie got us there,
Even young Tony Blaire,
Isn’t so much hot air,
So he sends his kids there.
I say, does that spangled old school tie hold sway,
O’er the land of the free if they can afford to pay.

SPECIAL RELATIONSHIP
(To the tune of “God Save Our Gracious Queen” and/or “God Save America”)

BRITS: Special relationship,
YANKS United Nations quip,
BRITS: Lend us some dosh.
YANKS: You’ve had your Marshall aid,
BRITS: Come on, you’ll be repaid,
ALL (indicating towards the nuptial couple) This couple’s wanting to get……home,
While the rest get sloshed.

The Al Gore snippet reminds me of (was probably inspired by) Allan Sherman’s wonderful “The Ballad of Harry Lewis”:

Here also is a slightly different version of that medley page, designed as a solo:

N SPECIAL RELATIONSHIP MEDLEY N
(To various US and UK patriotic tunes)
LAND OF HOPELESS TORIES
(To the tune of “Land of Hope and Glory”)

Land of hopeless Tories, mother of all teams;
How can we extol thee, who art born for greed?
Wider still and wider gulf twixt poor and rich,
God who made John Major can’t you make him less kitsch,
God who made Mag Thatcher, can’t you silence the bitch?

AL GORE’S BODY
(To the tune of “John Brown’s Body”)

Al Gores body stands a-sweating in his suit,
Al Gore’s body stands perspiring in his suit,
Al Gore’s body stands a-sweltering in his suit, and it is a Gucci one.
Gore-ee, Gore-ee, Al and Tipper
Gore-ee, Gore-ee, Al and Tipper
Gore-ee, Gore-ee, Al and Tipper, in a Fiarucci thong.

RULE NEWT GINGRICH
(To the tune of “Rule Britannia”)

While Clinton never never never toked or poked,
Newt Gi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ingrich was acquiring the right wing vote,
In order to so gently shake Bill by the throat;
This was for starters, as violence stormed the land,
And Guardian A-a-a-angels steamed the train.
Rule Newt Gingrich, he thinks he rules the States,
Newt and Clinton never never shall be mates.

STAR SPANGLED OLD SCHOOL TIE
(To the tune of “Star Spangled Banner”)

I say, can you see by the club’s faded light,
What so proudly we wear since the day we ceased schooling?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the commercial plight,
Copped us all the top jobs even if young and foolish.
The school tie got us there,
Even young Tony Blaire,
Isn’t so much hot air,
So he sends his kids there.
I say, does that spangled old school tie hold sway,
O’er the land of the free if they can afford to pay.

Dat’s Di, NewsRevue Lyric, Almost Certainly Unused, 8 August 1995

I’m not over impressed with this one. I wrote a few good Princess Di songs. This wasn’t one of them. I’m pretty sure this wasn’t used and the couple of half-decent ideas in here got reused elsewhere I’m sure.

One for the completist.

DAT’S DI
(To the Tune of “Habanera” from Carmen, or “Dat’s Love” from Carmen Jones)

INTRO

I can’t pick any man, even if he fancies me,
It can’t go that way, I am Princess Di,
So I have to cheat and lie.

VERSE 1

Love’s evaded my high class life,
Guess some would say I’ve been out of luck;
How would you like to be the wife,
Of a dull blatherer like my man Chuck?
One man gives me his diamond stud,
And I just pester him with mobile calls;
Next man likes rolling in the mud,
I like to fumble with his rugby balls.

CHORUS 1

Love’s evaded her high class life, {DI: that’s right}
Guess some would say she’s been out of luck {DI: that’s right}
But even while she was still Charles’s wife {DI: that’s right}
The bitch was partial to a casual fuck {DI: that’s lies}

VERSE 2

My love life is my own affair,
And my affairs are legion in this land;
So if I want some rugby player,
I think his wife should really understand.

CHORUS 2

CHORUS: Will Carling’s wife!
DI: Should get one too,
And if she hasn’t then she must be dumb,
CHORUS: Will Carling’s wife!
DI: Must get some new balls,
In this instance I have won the scrum.
Ole.
[Makes flamboyant gesture to one of the chorus. One of the others might comment “I bet she drinks Carling Black Label”]

This Carmen Jones number is a good one, though, you might enjoy the vid:

 

Three Steps To Records, NewsRevue Lyric, 8 August 1995

Celebrating a Brit, Jonathan Edwards, winning gold in the triple jump…or something. (I added an E to Edwards name back then, much like my extra E for Tony Blair).

THREE STEPS TO RECORDS
(To the Tune of “Three Steps to Heaven”)

[You’ll have to supply all the do wap waps yourselves, I’m afraid]

VERSE 1

Now there are three steps to records,
Jonathan Edwardes has seen;
Cos sport is not much fun,
Unless you’re number one,
Just follow steps one two and three.

CHORUS

Firstly, you choose a sport unlikely,
Three legged race or egg and spoon,
Don’t be put off if it’s unsightly;
Cos then you might win the world soon.

VERSE 2

Now there’s only three steps to stardom,
If you trust the hype that they pump,
You’d think this sport we’ve won,
Was the highest, fastest one,
Instead of the hop skip and jump.

CHORUS 2

Step one you hop and hold your vitals,
Step two you skip like you are bent;
Step three you jump for the world title,
But only Britain has watched the event.

Here is Eddie Cochran singing Three Steps To Heaven – if you load YouTube fully you can read the lyrics in the first comment: