By the looks of it, Ros Ellott was due to come and stay with Janie that weekend but in the end did not.
We had booked out a long weekend for the purpose.
I guess Janie and I found things to do, but none are recorded in the diary.
We both worked on the Tuesday – Janie working a very long day – then headed up to the Canal Cafe Theatre to see the Edinburgh show preview.
Elements of that particular Edinburgh show have been preserved for all posterity through a TV show named The Wire. The extracts even include one of mine – the Kate Adie Song.
The NewsRevue bit of the show starts at c7:00.
Top marks again to Janie in the stalwart stakes, coming with me to that show after a 12-13 hour working day.
…but it turns out that my log records the original as 9 August 1993.
Everthing I said in that 1995 document still applies, except that the conversation that Barry Grossman and I had that summer (or as the South Africans might describe August; winter) was 1993, not 1995.
I still think that “Roll Out Those Hazy, Crazy, Mangosuthu Buthelezi Days Of Summer” is a great song title – thank you Barry Grossman.
Here’s the earliest version for which I can find an electronic file; 23 October 1993. I clearly extended the piece in 1995:
ROLL OUT THOSE HAZY CRAZY MANGOSUTHU BUTHELEZI BATTLES – VERSION 2
(To the Tune of “Roll Out Those Hazy Crazy Lazy Days of Summer”)
CHORUS 1
Roll out those hazy crazy Buthelezi
battles,
Those wars of Zulus, Incartha and fear;
Roll out that hazy crazy Buthelezi
Natal,
Natal may be independent next year.
VERSE 1
He hates that ANC man Cyril Ramaphosa,
Say’s he’s a poser,
And a jerk;
But when they’re fighting in the
townships like Tokoza,
They take the F out of F.W. de Klerk.
CHORUS 2
Throw out that hazy crazy Buthelezi
arsehole,
He’s made a pact with the Fascistic
whites;
Just flush that shady Buthelezi down
the plug hole,
And put an end to his quarrelsome
fights;
Build understanding and more human rights.
Here’s Nat King Cole singing Hazy Crazy Lazy Days Of Summer with lyrics embedded:
But the following lyric was the original and I think better one. Writing more than 25 years later (March 2019) I could express similar sentiments about a heartless Tory Government being mean, inconsistent and incompetent about benefits.
Peter Lilley was not/is not many people’s favourite politician.
LILLEY THE PRICK
(To the Tune of “Lilly The Pink”)
CHORUS 1
We’re, sick, we’re sick, we’re sick, Of Lilley the prick, the prick, the prick, The breaker of the DSS; For he’s removing our benefit payments, Now we’re entitled to even less.
VERSE 1
Uncle Tony, was terribly bony, He could not afford his meals; They withdrew all his benefit claim forms, Now he can’t get meals on wheels. Johnny Huckle, was entitled to f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f fuck all, He could hardly claim a sou; They denied him his measly handouts, Now he’s dossing in Waterloo.
CHORUS 2
We’ll dig, we’ll dig we’ll dig, At Lilley the pig, the pig, the pig, The hater of the welfare state; He’s refusing most benefit payments, And leaving poor folk to their fate.
VERSE 2
Peter Lilley, was pompous and silly, He did not foresee attack; When the Torys stabbed him with their long knives, Peter wasn’t turning back. Purgatory, was home to this Tory, While the poor danced in the street; But Saint Peter was not Lilley’s greeter, T’was the devil he did meet.
CHORUS 3
O…….old Nick, old Nick, old Nick, And Lilley the prick, the prick, the prick, Have buggered up the DSS; By retracting the benefit payments, Britain’s welfare state’s a meeeeeeessssssss.
Below is a video of The Scaffold singing Lily the Pink:
I enclose your pack of lyrics and tape for my current offerings. The pack includes some very new ones, the songs currently in the show and some that have been cruelly overlooked before but still have life in them.
Please do 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 do let me know.
Our first Prom together. BBC Prom I’m talking about. And when I say, “together”, that wasn’t just me and Janie – oh no – we also had her mother, Pauline, in tow.
In truth Janie wasn’t too keen on the idea of a “classical concert”, whereas Pauline was a keen music listener.
Still, Janie professed to liking Brandenberg Concertos, so this concert, entirely comprising J S Bach works, including three of the Brandenbergs, seemed a suitable entry point. This, despite my reservations about the Royal Albert Hall as a venue for baroque period music.
Here is a link to the BBC stub for this Prom. The Hanover Band with some cracking soloists: Anthony Robson, Benjamin Hudson, Catherine Latham, Robert Farley, Pavlo Beznosiuk, Rachel Brown, directed by Anthony Halstead.
This is what we heard:
Brandenburg Concerto No 2 in F major, BWV 1047
Keyboard Concerto in F minor, BWV 1056
Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G major
Concerto for Two Keyboards in C minor, BWV 1060 (version for oboe & violin)
Brandenburg Concerto No 5 in D major, BWV 1050
Here is a later recording of The Hanover Band doing Brandenberg 5:
Meirion Bowen in the Guardian rated this Prom highly, while concurring with my view about the unsuitability of baroque music scaled authentically in the Albert Hall:
I don’t think I thought all that highly of Sarah Ferguson, the Duchess Of York. Here’s a lyric about her UN envoy role:
FERGIE’S NO UN ENVOY
(To the Tune of “She’s Always A Woman”)
VERSE 1
She can hunt with a gun, She can ski every day; She don’t half fuck around, When she’s in St Tropez;
She can only write books for inane under threes; She just wants to get rich, Fergie’s no UN envoy to me.
VERSE 2
She is haughty and proud, She is not very brave, tho’; She will go to Gorazde, And to Sarajevo;
She will then sell her memoires for ginormous fees, She’s a self centred bitch, Fergie’s no goodwill envoy to me.
MIDDLE BIT
Oh – she took care of herself, When she threw Andrew out, He was not ready for;
Toes – that she put in her mouth, When she gave her new man, Sensual pedicures.
VERSE 3
She’s been spurned by the Queen, So she’s not bloody goin’; She won’t join that incompetent oaf, David Owen;
She is undiplomatic, But then so is he;
And the worst he can do, Is split Kosovo too, They should sack all these envoys swiftly.
Below is a video of Billy Joel singing She’s Always A Woman To Me with the lyrics on the screen:
I submitted a version Two three weeks later, substituting “Johnny Bryan” for “her mew man” in the middle eight. Not sure whether that was on request or just an attempt to make the lyric more useful/informative.
…the following week was a bit of an Ian’s-old-friends-from-Uni-fest for her, as we followed up an evening with Annalisa and Annie with a dinner at my place with Michelle Epstein (then Infield) and Neil Infield.
The diary is silent on what I served. Probably my Chinese specialties but you never know.
I’m sure it was a very pleasant evening.
I think it was the first time that Janie met those two. The next time I think was out in Sussex at their place.
This period of 1993 was “peak Random”, with John perennially, heavily involved in NewsRevue (where he helped to get my comedy writing career going the year before) and also his show Sex In My Anorak, which had played in June.
The theatre was a sort-of public hall in Hoxton, near to Annie Bickerstaff’s place. Janie and I went to see this play along with Annalisa and Annie. We all very much enjoyed the play. I think we ended up back at Annie’s place for dinner after the show.
I don’t remember this one being used in NewsRevue, but neither do I recall it being rejected.
There were lots of songs and sketches about the Prime Minister at that time though and I’m not convinced this was among the best of them. One or two good lines, though.
WHO DO YOU TALK TO JOHN MAJOR
(A Quickie To the Tune of “Where Do You Go To My Lovely”)
VERSE 1
You talk like one of the Daleks, And you dance like Coco the Clown; Your clothes are from Marks and Spencer, And you’ll soon bring this Government down; (Yes you will).
VERSE 2
You live in a Georgian Terrace, Down in Whitehall’s Downing Street; And although you’ve been leader for ages, You still haven’t quite found your feet; (Or your brains or your balls).
CHORUS
Who do you talk to John Major, When your recorder is off? Swear when reporters surround you, And then why don’t you just piss off.
Below is a video of Peter Sarstedt singing Where Do You Go To My Lovely with the lyrics on the screen:
No wonder this lyric wasn’t used in a topical show. Writing about it more than 25 years later, March 2019, I’d only need to change a word or two to make it perfectly relevant today.
I might just do that…
THE SNARLING CABBIE
(To the Tune of “The Laughing Policeman”)
VERSE 1
PASSENGER:I know a snarling cabbie, He really is irate; He drives around old London town, And gets into a state. His black cab cuts up traffic, He loves to shake his fist; So people call him wanker, On account of his firm wrist.
CHORUS 1
TAXI DRIVER:South of London? not this driver, Now it’s time to pay. Four pound fifty, change a fiver? I’ve no change today. You’ll get coated with saliva, When I turn and say; I aint got no sales slips neither, Get out of me way.
VERSE 2
PASSENGER:Now folk who live in London, Have had their fill of flack; They hire the scabs in minicabs, And not the taxis black. But people went half round the bend, Because alas alack; The mini-cabbies snarl’s as bad, Cos their trade’s also slack.
CHORUS 2
MINI-CABBIE:Business better? Not in this town, Cabbing’s now the pits; Bleedin’ Tories, getting me down, John Major’s a git. Had that geezer Paddy Ashdown, Do a back seat flit; PASSENGER:I’ll get round by underground and dodge this heap of shit.
The embedded video below has Charles Jolly (Penrose) singing The Laughing Policeman:
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