I must have had a bit of a love-hate thing with Oasis at that time. I’d bought their albums – perhaps I just wanted to make full use of them for NewsRevue. I rather like this one, taking advantage of the somewhat derivative…sorry, I mean “tribute”…nature of Oasis’s oeuvre.
HALITOASIS (To the Tune of “Whatever”)
VERSE 1
Free of any copyright, Whatever you wrote, I change the odd note, That’s my lot.
VERSE 2
Free of any royalties, I just have to sneeze, The damned NME Studies my snot.
MIDDLE EIGHT
It always seems to me, That half our tunes are from 1973; And also lyrically, Like “stay on the bus, forget about us”, Is from “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round The Old Oak Tree”.
OUTRO
Free!!
Below is a video of Oasis singing Whatever with the lyrics on the screen:
Janie had never seen this play before and The Orange Tree was on a bit of a roll with us, so we decided to give this a go.
Given the scale of the piece, I thought we’d try sitting upstairs rather than downstairs for once. It was just for once, because we didn’t find upstairs very comfortable – less leg room and peering down didn’t please us.
In truth. the Orange Tree was probably biting off a bit more than it could chew attempting such a large-scale piece in the round, but Sam Walters obcviously wanted to have a go.
We enjoyed the production. I think Janie got more out of it than I did because she hadn’t seen the play before and didn’t have a big production with which to compare it.
Goodness knows what I sent Ben in this batch, but he would have been planning the album “How Bonkers Is That” at that time.
Ben Murphy 29 January 1996
(Wells address redacted)
Dear Ben
MORE STUFF!!!!!
I have been remiss and have not sent you any gear for ages. I actually haven’t been writing much but had a brainstorm this weekend, so here’s the stuff.
Give us a bell to let me know what you think. Look forward to hearing from you soon.
Protesters tried to prevent the building of the Newbury Bypass by intervening in the process. I merely wrote this lyric, which i don’t think even made it into NewsRevue.
THE NEWBURY BYPASS (To the Tune of “Winchester Cathedral”)
VERSE 1
The Newbury bypass, Will go round the town; You stood and you watched as, Our treehouse came down.
You could have done something, But you didn’t try, Now our bivouac will, Become a lay-by.
MIDDLE EIGHT
Now everyone knows just how much we hated that road, It wouldn’t have gone through that quick if it wasn’t for that Mawhinney toad.
VERSE 2
The Newbury bypass, Who knows what it’s for? It’s circumlocating, The A34.
The Newbury bypass, We’re blocking it hard, Don’t knock down our shelter, Not in our back yard.
MIDDLE EIGHT 2
Then the local fuzz dragged us out of the snow and hail; We’re one of the few groups around to be better off in a British gaol.
VERSE 3
The Newbury bypass, Now you’re a done deal; Once we’re out of prison, We’ll go and stop veal.
Below is a video with The New Vaudeville Band singing Winchester Cathedral:
Nothing you could say will tear me away from my Turk (her Turk), Nothing you could glean though I’m not even fourteen with my Turk (her Turk); I’m sticking to my Turk cos I’m not a pariah, He’s taught me the sheriah in an abaya; I’m telling it to the Sun and making twenty tons, For my Turk. (SUN REPORTERS: Whatcha say??)
VERSE 2
Nothing you can do will make stick with you in Essex (Essex), Nothing there is dainty so I’m well ‘acked off with Braintree Essex (Essex); I gave my Turk my word of honour, To be faithful and eat Donor; You’d best be believing I don’t regret me leaving, Essex. (SUN REPORTERS: Tell us more)
MIDDLE EIGHT
As a matter of opinion I think he’s tops, I just regret that he’s been dragged off by the cops; The row in Britain was in excess, Now he’s bunged in jail like Midnight Express.
VERSE 3
Some muscle bound man has lead me by the hand from my Turk (her Turk); The Sun wants its cash back cos I won’t take off me yashmak – piss off you berk!! We may not look like movie stars, But we looked OK in Kahra – manmaras; I wish my man today could take me away from Essex. (SUN: Whatchasay??) I’m now a ward of court for the stuff the papers bought on my Turk (SUN: Tell us more!!) I’ve pissed off the Brits cos I prefer Islamisists and my Turk!!
Below is Mary Wells singing My Guy with the lyrics on the screen:
Anyway, when Tony Blair decided that an idea referred to as The Stakeholder Economy was going to be the election winning idea, I got to work on that lyrical idea again:
STAKEHOLDER ECONOMY (To the Tune of “Don’t Sit Under The Apple Tree”)
VERSE 1 – JOHN MAJOR
Don’t fuck up the economy with anyone else but me, Anyone else but me, anyone else but me (no, no, no); Don’t fuck up the economy with anyone else but me, We’re screwed financially.
MIDDLE EIGHT – FEMALE CHORUS
You’ve heard the word from the Tory nerd, With a pre-election curse; So hear the tune from the God Squad goon, Now the Labour party’s worse.
VERSE 2 – TONY BLAIRE
Don’t stakeholder economy with anyone else but me, Anyone else but me, anyone else but me (no, no, no); Don’t stakeholder economy with anyone else but me, We’ll screw you equally.
Below is Glenn Miller & His Orchestra performing Don’t Sit Under The Apple Tree with the lyrics on the screen:
This evening – a rare visit to The Cottesloe on a Tuesday evening – was the first time I saw Ken Campbell perform.
I was really smitten with this piece – I found it very funny. I think I got more out of it than Janie did, but she was fascinated enough to want to see more of his work after that.
One of the things that attracted us to the piece, apart from the weirdness of the blurb, which promised us – I paraphrase from various book blurbs available:
“Cathar heretics, a mysterious female French book thief and a Vietnamese violinist who does pig impressions”.
It would be difficult to say no to that, especially as we had booked to go to Vietnam a couple of months later.
Janie and I saw an early preview of the show; it didn’t get reviewed until October but we saw a preview in January.
One of my most successful songs of all time. There was a sort of goatee beard thing at that time. I exploited it.
GOATEE
(To the Tune of “Swanee”)
INTRO
I’ve been bare-faced for such a long time,
I never thought I’d grow a beard;
Somehow I feel, so juveneel,
Bristly I long to be.
There’s nothing growing on my neck line,
There’s nothing growing on my lip;
But there’s some thin, hairs on my chin,
Goatee’s, the style for me-ee.
VERSE 1
Goatee, how I love you how I love you,
My dear old Goatee.
It makes me look obscene,
Just like those blokes in,
That crap band East 17.
My rabbit has a shaved patch on his back,
That’s shaped like my goatee.
The folks up north think we are all weird,
Cos they prefer their ZZ Top beards.
MIDDLE EIGHT
Fanny, fanny
My beard looks like a fanny;
Bum fluff, bum fluff,
Or a smear on George Michael’s chin.
VERSE 2
Goatee, I look grown up, I look grown up,
Now I’ve a goatee.
My balls have not yet dropped,
But there’s this small patch,
On my chin that I’ve not cropped.
My gerbil has an unrequited crush,
On my dear old goatee.
It might be gone once I learn to shave,
But now I’m off to join my rave.
The above lyrics contain a minor revision and were published 29 January 1996. The original version assigned the intro & verses to men, but the middle eight to women. The first couplet of the original middle eight read:
Goatee, Goatee,
Don’t tell me that’s a goatee;
Anyway, it ran and ran in the show. I remember Gerry Goddin in particular saying it was his favourite of mine.
LIST OF SONGS SUBMITTED AND TAPE TRACK LISTING
JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1996 RUN
Dear Paul
This starter pack consists of brand new / previously unperformed songs. 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
side 1
michael winner eats it all the winner takes it all / abba N
don’t you want me voters? don’t you want me? / human league N
goatee swanee / al jolson N
hooray for bollywood hooray for hollywood / hollywood hotel N
my name is jacques my name is jack / manfred mann N
rip it off roll with it / oasis N
I think this one could have done very well in the show, but no-one other than me believed…
HOORAY FOR BOLLYWOOD
(To the Tune of “Hooray For Bollywood”)
(The more Indian paraphernalia the better for this one)
CHORUS 1
Hooray for Bollywood, Bombay’s equivalent of Hollywood;
Where any actress name of Shah or Patel, can be like cattle,
A holy cow who can’t act;
A punkawallah can leave his squalor,
To join a crowd scene that is at least as packed.
Hooray for Bollywood, we’re making movies, they’re no bloody good;
Where any caste may have Sudras and Brahmans to sing like Carmen,
And dance around their manhood,
They’re worse than Bombay duck but no-one gives a fuck;
Hooray for Bollywood; Hooray for Bollywood!!
INTERMISSION
And now for a commercial break.
“You don’t have to go to England to try genuine English cuisine. Merely three minutes walk from this Bombay cinema and you are in the Buckingham Palace Fish and Chip Restaurant. Peter Parker and his friendly staff serve you fish and chips in typical Northern English style. Batter flavours include Madras and Vindaloo. Peter Parker’s Pukka Palace Place”.
CHORUS 2
Hooray for Bollywood, where women sing and dance more than they should;
They howl and shriek in Tamil and in Urdu, they sound like nerds who,
Have just got their privates nailed;
They sound more arty in Gujarati,
Cos then the wailing sounds like they’ve been impaled.
Hooray for Bollywood,
Get it on cable in your neighbourhood;
Now Rupert Murdoch can broadcast a channel, That’s so much flannel,
It makes Sky One appear good;
Subscribe your weekly pay,
And watch these films all day;
Hooray for Bollywood,
That cow’s half naked,
Hooray for Bollywood,
Is nothing sacred?
Hooray for Bollywood!!
Here is Benny Goodman and his Orchestra with Johnny ‘Scat’ Davis & Frances Langford, performing Hooray For Hollywood:
