John Random NewsRevue Pre-Run Letter, 26 February 1995

This looked all neat and tidy with an Amipro table at the end of it; the best I can do now is to turn the table into a list of submissions.

But you’ll get the idea.

I was getting into co-writing a bit at that time; a couple on this submission – never worked quite as well as I’d hoped it would.

John Random was quite regularly directing runs in those days; perhaps one a year or more. John will know.

John Random
News Revue

LIST OF SONGS SUBMITTED AND TAPE TRACK LISTING
MARCH-APRIL 1995 RUN

Dear John

This starter pack consists of songs currently in the show but mainly previously unperformed ones. If you want me to work on a rewrite of an old chestnut of mine that you might have uncovered in the archive, just let me know.

Call me and let me know if you are short of any subjects or styles and I shall try to oblige. Also, if any of these need a bit of rewrite then I am happy to change them on request.

Good luck and I look forward to seeing you soon.

Song Title/Original Title/Artist on Tape

Aprox. No. of weeks performed: 7+ 4-6 1-3 New

have i the right (co-written with John Cowen)/have i the right/honeycombs – New

i’ll never find another job/i’ll never find another you/seekers – New

privatise/bright eyes/art garfunkle – 4-6

the peanut farmer/the peanut vendor/alvin “snake eyes” tyler – New

tory rebel (co-written with d a barham)/ rebel rebel/david bowie – New

gillian shepherd/jennifer eccles/hollies – New

oj’s girl/bobby’s girl/marcie blaine – 1-3

why do you want to break our ties with clause 4?/what do you want make those eyes at me for?/emile ford and the checkmates – 1-3

veal meat again we’ll meet again/vera lynn – 4-6

Tory Rebel, NewsRevue Lyric Written Jointly With Debbie (DA) Barham, 3 January 1995

Debbie Barham was one of the most talented young writers to enter our NewsRevue orbit back in the early-mid Nineties. She really was just a kid when she first showed up; pretending to be a drop-out after a year at University whereas she was actually a fifteen year old runaway from school and family. Her untimely demise was a genuine tragedy.

But by late 1994/early 1995 she and I had started corresponding by e-mail and attempted to write a little bit together, with very limited success.

This lyric is one of just a couple of joint submissions we made to NewsRevue. I don’t remember it making the cut.

 

TORY REBEL
(To the Tune of “Rebel Rebel”)
VERSE 1

REBELS: We’ve got John Major in a whirl,
(Cos) Theresa Gorman’s our kind of girl;
MAJOR Hey guys, you’re so far right,
Hey guys, please party tonight;
REBELS: We hate Frogs, Krauts and Wops we shun,
We love hanging even more than the Sun;
MAJOR You sound off like Attilla the Hun,
How many of you are with me?
REBELS None!

MIDDLE BIT

REBELS: We’ll stick our ground, ‘cos we’re no drips,
MAJOR: We’re cracking down with our Tory whips.

CHORUS 1

ALL: Tory rebels,
MAJOR You’re past your best,
ALL Tory rebels,
REBELS: John Major’s a mess;
ALL: Tory rebels,
REBELS You look forlorn,
MAJOR Tough shit, you’re whip’s withdrawn.

CHORUS 2

ALL Tory rebels,
REBELS: We’ve earned some credit,
ALL Tory rebels,
REBELS: From Thatcher and Tebbit;
ALL Tory rebels,
MAJOR: Most people know,
You’re as bent as Portillo.

Here is Bowie singing Rebel Rebel with lyrics in English and Italian – that might get up the Eurosceptics’ noses…

 

Accountancy Age Awards, The Brewery (Chiswell Street), 9 November 1994

OK, perhaps it wasn’t THAT long ago.

In the annals of accountancy folk lore, 9 November 1994 will forever be an historic day, not that you would easily find a reference to it on-line…

…until now.

For that evening in 1994 was the very first Accountancy Age Awards, now operated as a separate venture by the looks of it and/or rebranded as the British Accountancy Awards.

And I was there.

Not just there, I was an honoured guest. For I had been one of the judges on one of the panels for that very first year of the Accountancy Awards. I had been on the judging panel for accounting systems, no less. Selected for the role while I still worked for Binder Hamlyn, although I had left to form Z/Yen in the meantime. Accountancy Age were told about the move but didn’t mind. Nor did Binders.

A few weeks or months earlier, while still at Binders.

According to my 1994 diary, I spent the afternoon of 13 September 1994 at the Accountancy Age offices. During those few hours, I and the rest of the panel “examined” several systems, to decide which were worthy of  awards. You can imagine just how methodical and scientific that judging process must have been.

It was my first experience on an awards judging panel and I learnt a lot that afternoon to stand me in good stead since, whenever I have subsequently sat on (or in some cases chaired) such panels… mostly I learnt how NOT to judge awards from the Accountancy Awards experience.

But on awards night itself the judging was all behind me. My hard work was done. My black tie outfit was donned. I think I might have still been hiring black tie gear back then. It looks from my diary as though I worked from home that day, thus avoiding the worst excesses of “black tie day misery”: lugging clobber around all day, knowing you’ll have to change into that tux in some smelly bog, early evening. Or, in many ways worse, wandering around town all day in black tie, explaining to each client in the morning and afternoon meetings that you are so darned busy with back-to-back meetings that you are already dressed for a pompous evening do.

I have two lingering but fitful memories from the evening. The first relates to Bob Monkhouse, who hosted the show. I remember discovering that Debbie Barham was writing gags for Bob Monkhouse when he did this kind of gig, by mentioning this event to Debbie at a NewsRevue writers meeting. Debbie was a young, supremely talented comedy writer, whose subsequent tragic story was posthumously written by her dad in this book – click here.

I cannot remember whether Debbie and I had that conversation about Bob before or after the event itself. I do remember that, once we’d had that conversation, I’d get occasional e-mails from Debbie (she, like me, was a relatively early e-mail adopter) asking me for background information, buzz phrases or just something for her to latch onto when she was writing patter for similar commercial events, usually for Monkhouse or another serial awards offender, such as Ned Sherrin or Rory Bremner. Little did I know at that time how obsessive Debbie’s work habits would become and how tragically her situation would end.

But on the Accountancy Awards evening itself, I recall finding Bob Monkhouse’s jokes rather predictable but very professionally served. As was the food.

My second memory relates to George Littlejohn. By good chance, I was placed next to George. He was also an honoured guest, in his case in the capacity of a former editor of Accountancy Age magazine. George had subsequently moved on to bigger and better things; yes that really is possible.

George is a most interesting chap with a very good sense of humour. The latter came in especially handy that evening. There is always something incongruous/pompous about awards ceremonies done “Oscars-style” for matters less glamorous and more mundane than the Oscars. Accountancy Awards, for example, are, in my opinion, just a tad less glamorous and a smidgen more mundane than Oscars.

Perhaps George Littlejohn remembers the evening differently; if so, I hope he chimes in with a comment or three. We’ve kept in touch all these years, our business interests overlapping occasionally, but in any case we always enjoy meeting up. I occasionally run into George at cultural events, as indeed I did on New Years Day 2017 at the Curzon Bloomsbury – click here – which triggered me to write up this 1994 event now.

I particularly recall the last award, Accountant of the Year, being delivered with extreme fanfare, won by a big-haired young woman. Her excellence as an accountant I couldn’t possibly question, but it seemed (to us at least) that she had primarily been chosen for the award because she would utterly look the part in the press photos. In any event, she rapidly got busy, kissing Bob Monkhouse spontaneously, looking elatedly happy and supremely excited about it all. Meanwhile, the flash guns went on firing and the thumping music went on blaring. George and I couldn’t stop giggling for quite some while.

Still, the event must have been a great success – it is still being held every year, at the same venue I believe – for sure it was again at The Brewery, Chiswell Street in 2016. The event even has its own website and strap line – click here.

Although I have no pictures to show you of the event from 1994, the good news is, Accountancy Age have put up an album of pictures from the 2016 event. I have to tell you that, apart from the absence of me, George Littlejohn and of course the late Bob Monkhouse, the photo album looks just how the event looked in 1994 – it’s an uncannily similar look – click here.

So perhaps it’s no surprise that there is no record on-line from the 1994 event; who needs it? As another great George, Santayana in this case, succinctly put it:

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

John West Rejects, NewsRevue Quickie, 18 October 1994

This poor quality and poor taste quickie shows why I did well to stick mostly with lyrics.

The best Fred and Rose West material in NewsRevue was Debbie Barham’s wonderful English Country Garden song. I take a tiny amount of credit for that one having contributed the opening line, “How many stiffs can you hide without a whiff?” at the idea’s birth during a writers meeting. When Debbie retorted, “How many tendons in the rhododendrons?” I insisted that she would do a better job of that lyric than I possibly could – and I was right.

My sketch below is very very pale by comparison:

JOHN WEST REJECTS
(A quickie to hail the trial of John West, Fred West’s ne’er do well brother)

A weirdo walks across the stage. It will transpire that he is Fred West. He happens upon two women.

WOMAN ONE:: Oy, Fred, what are you staring at?

FRED: I was thinking about offering you lodgings, but I’ve decided against it. Push off.

WOMAN ONE: OK Fred.

FRED: (Sings) Now I’m a ripper ripper…….

WOMAN TWO: (Innocently enters with luggage) Excuse me, I saw your sign advertising lodgings………..

FRED: Bugger off. We’re full.

VOICE-OVER: It’s the chicks Fred West rejects, that makes John West’s victims the best.

(While the voice-over is going, all three look upwards and around, trying to trace the source of the voice-over)

WOMAN ONE: What sort of pilchard put this sketch in the show?