It seems I was unable to spell her name 100% right though – her hyphen is missing. Oh well.
Robert Miles 13 June 1995
News Revue
Dear Robert
VANESSA MAE
Hope all is going well towards the new show.
I have just read that Vanessa Mae is in fact sixteen (not eighteen as stated in verse two of the song). As sixteen also scans and rhymes, please substitute correct age if you are going to use the song.
This one did very well in NewsRevue. I’m not sure that the then teenager Vanessa-Mae deserved quite such harsh treatment, but life’s not always fair and by gosh did she strike gold as a star despite.
Writing in April 2017, I realise that this lyric wouldn’t need too much work to be topical and nasty about a certain prime minister…
…wouldn’t help/can’t be bothered.
VANESSA MAE
(To the Tune of “Enola Gay”)
VERSE 1
Vanessa Mae,
Prancing about just like an easy lay;
It’s such a sin,
The way you desecrate the violin.
That piece you slay,
I’d like to hear it done the proper way,
Oh, oh Vanessa Mae,
It’s such a fiddle with the crap you play.
INSTRUMENTAL 1
(Vanessa comically fiddles away at the instrumental bit of the tune)
VERSE 2
Vanessa Mae,
Why do they have to dress you up that way,
You pout and fawn,
As if your instrument is the French horn;
You’re just sixteen,
But heaven knows where on earth you’ve been,
I saw you pouting on the video,
Like an exponent of the pink oboe.
INSTRUMENTAL 2
(Vanessa even more comically fiddles away at the instrumental bit of the tune)
VERSE 3
Vanessa Mae,
Now JS Bach is turning in his grave,
Your awful goal,
Is scratching out Baroque and Roll;
Those ancient strains,
Sound like the soundtracks of computer games,
Vanessa Mae,
Just wish the stupid cow would go away, hey.
Here is Orchestral Maneuvers In The Dark (OMD) singing Enola Gay, with lyrics on the screen. If you don’t like synthesised music, don’t click:
Sexually Transmitted Infections don’t particularly lend themselves to comedy. I’m not sure this lyric breaks that rule either.
Still, it is a summer song – from June 1995. The version below was re-submitted (perhaps tweaked) in November 1995. I don;t think it was used then either.
SEALED SYPHILIS
(To the Tune of “Sealed With a Kiss”)
CHORUS 1
‘Tho’ we’re gonna get well laid for the summer,
Darling I promise you this;
I’ll give you all my love but I’ll wear a French letter,
So you won’t get Syphilis.
CHORUS 2
Yes it’s gonna be a gel coated rubber,
And I’ll fill its emptiness;
I’ll give you my pork sword, but I’ll wear a French letter,
Cos it hurts me when I piss.
MIDDLE EIGHT
You won’t get any herpes,
I’ll spare your parts from my Trich;
We’ll catch the germs in my clap trap,
And darling you’ll miss the Itch.
CHORUS 3
I don’t wanna wear this cold, lonely rubber,
Knowing the love I’ll miss;
So let me make a pledge to clean up my member,
No more urithritis.
CHORUS 4
Yes its gonna be a cold lonely rubber,
But I’ll fill it none the less;
And I shall soon attend the STD clinic,
And clear my syphilis,
And have a painless piss.
Here’s Brian Hyland singing Sealed With A Kiss, with lyrics on the screen:
The Maxwell trial. Big news in 1995. Not sure if this lyric was used, but for sure the story featured in the show.
“OH MY ” – PAPA
(To the Tune of “Oh My Papa”)
And now we go over to the Old Bailey, where Ian and Kevin Maxwell are about to sing the case for the defence.
VERSE 1
Oh my papa, to me he was so wonderful,
Oh my papa, Bob Maxwell was his name;
No one could be, so bent and so corruptible,
Oh my papa, he’s left his folks with shame.
MIDDLE EIGHT
Gone are the days,
When he would rape his pension funds,
And with a smile,
He’d change his bucks to bad debts.
VERSE 2
Oh my papa, so fat and so detestable,
Always spoke loud and treated staff like slaves;
Oh my papa, he made our lives so comfortable,
Here in the dock I wish he’d gone away.
MIDDLE EIGHT 2
Gone are the days,
When he would take me on his yacht,
With just one leap,
He dumped his sons up shit creek.
VERSE 3
Oh my papa to pensioners so criminal,
I’m in my cell while he burns deep in hell;
Oh my papa, oh my papa.
Usual blah blah about neat letter with table that won’t translate from Amipro properly…
Robert Miles
News Revue
LIST OF SONGS SUBMITTED AND TAPE TRACK LISTING
JUNE-JULY 1995 RUN
Dear Robert
This starter pack consists of songs currently in the show, previously unperformed ones and revamps of one or two which have come back into fashion as it were. 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
“oh my” papa / oh my papa/eddie fisher – New
i’m not sure / are you sure/the allisons – New
sealed syphilis / sealed with a kiss/brian hyland – New
sunbed / sunny/bobby hebb – 1-3
i’ll never find another job / i’ll never find another you/seekers – 4-6
jimmy knapp / jimmy mack/martha & the vandellas – 1-3
rugby love / puppy love/paul anka – New
matchinner, matchwinner / matchmaker, matchmaker/fiddler on the roof – New
we’re in the mood for grafting / i’m in the mood for dancing/nolans
– no recording, sorry – New
John Major was thought to dither over his cabinet reshuffles.
I’m not sure whether or not this lyric was ever used; probably not.
I’M NOT SURE
(To the Tune of “Are You Sure”)
VERSE 1
MAJOR: Goodbye, farewell, I’m not sure what to do!!
Virginia sucks, but all the rest suck too!
VIRGINIA: Are you sure you’ll treat me rottenly,
MAJOR: Stop your whinging, Virginia Bottomley,
VIRGINIA: Sacked unless John Major’s gotten cold feet again.
VERSE 2
VIRGINIA: Now are you sure that you want this kerfuffle?
That you won’t grieve if you botch this reshuffle.
MAJOR: You will see that I’m not cowardly,
I’ll get rid of that Michael Howard, he
Gaffed again, the media showered me with his crap.
VERSE 3
MAJOR: Goodbye, farewell, I’m not sure who to sack,
So long, au revoire, or just rejig the pack.
VIRGINIA: Are you sure you will be sacking me,
Come tomorrow you’ll be backing me,
To the hilt until you’re stabbing my back again.
VERSE 4
VIRGINIA: Just stop and think, it’s you’re decision now,
For you’re the one who chose us anyhow;
MAJOR: You’ll be sorry wait and see,
There is bags of choice for me,
Gerry Wiggins or Jerry Hanley,
Oh my God!!!!!
VERSE 5
VIRGINIA: Goodbye farewell I think that I’ll resign,
MAJOR: But Ginny, stay, you’re working out just fine;
VIRGINIA: Are you sure you won’t reshuffle me?
Come tomorrow, you won’t suffer me,
MAJOR: One fine day, I’ll get tough on thee – (but) not just yet.
Are You Sure by the Allisons sounded like this in the 1961 Eurovision Song Contest:
Sometimes I tweaked and resubmitted lyrics because the song was being used and needed updating. Sometimes I tweaked in an attempt to get a song used. This was the latter. Unsuccessfully, I am pretty sure. July version below the vid.
WE’RE IN THE MOOD FOR GRAFTING
(To the Tune of “I’m in the Mood For Dancing”)
ANNOUNCER: And now we present, that well known all singing all dancing Government enquiry: the Nolans.
CHORUS 1
We’re in the mood for grafting,
Three in a bed shafting,
We do it the Tory way;
We’re in the mood for grafting,
Feeble excuse crafting,
We’ve all been caught out today.
MIDDLE EIGHT
Grafting grafting,
We’re in the mood;
Rafting rafting,
We’re also crude;
Shafting shafting,
You’ve all been screwed,
Die laughing.
CHORUS 2
We’re in the mood for rake offs,
Police accountant make offs,
With cash that could be a bung;
We’re in the poo for sharing,
Without declaring,
We’ve even ripped off this song.
(Enter policeman)
POLICEMAN: Oy, you lot. Is that huge wad of cash your royalty money for this song?
NOLANS: (reluctantly admit that it is)
POLICEMAN: Hand it over then. That’s vital police evidence that is.
(Nolans reluctantly hand over huge wad of cash and exeunt muttering displeasure)
POLICEMAN: (Exit, saying) Mmmm, nice wad. Should buy me two or three questions in the House of Commons that should. Or me entrance fee to the Masons.
Below are my tweaked July 1995 lyrics:
WE’RE IN THE MOOD FOR GRAFTING
(To the Tune of “I’m in the Mood For Dancing”)
ANNOUNCER: And now we present, that well known all singing all dancing Government enquiry into standards in public life: the Nolans.
CHORUS 1
Oooh-oooh-oooh, oooh-oooh-oooh, oooh-oooh-oooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-h-h-ooh-ooh,
We’re in the mood for grafting,
Three in a bed shafting,
Oooh – we do it the Tory way;
We’re in the mood for grafting,
Feeble excuse crafting,
Oooh – we’ve all been caught out today.
MIDDLE EIGHT
Grafting grafting,
We’re in the mood, Tories, rack up director’s pay;
Oooh – shafting shafting,
You’ve all been screwed, lately, so underneath the carpet this must stay.
CHORUS 2
We’re in the mood for rake offs,
Police accountant make offs,
Oooh – with cash that could be a bung;
We’re in the poo for sharing,
Without declaring,
But you’ll never find, backshish that’s gone;
But MP’s don’t mind, we’ve even ripped off this song.
Oooh-oooh-oooh, oooh-oooh-oooh…………
(Enter policeman)
POLICEMAN: Oy, you lot. Is that huge wad of cash your royalty money for this song?
NOLANS: (reluctantly admit that it is)
POLICEMAN: Hand it over then. That’s vital police evidence that is.
(Nolans reluctantly hand over huge wad of cash and exeunt muttering displeasure)
POLICEMAN: (Exit, saying) Mmmm, nice wad. Should buy me two or three questions in the House of Commons that should. Or me admission fee to the local Masonic lodge.
It fails rather a lot of PC tests on rereading; race, sex, socio-economic group…oh dear.
I do still like the fake rhyme with Kharach-ee. That made me smile.
MATCHWINNER, MATCHWINNER
(To the Tune of “Matchmaker, Matchmaker”)
MRS GOLDSMITH: Matchmaker, matchmaker make her a match,
Find one who’s rich, and up to scratch,
Stockbroker, fundstrader, someone with spunk,
Jemima would like to hatch.
JEMIMA: Matchwinner, matchwinner, you are my match,
You, Imran Khan, came on my patch;
Matchwinner matchwinner, though you may come,
From Pakistan’s town Kharach…..
MRS GOLDSMITH: (…ee) Jemima make him a scholar,
JEMIMA: But scholars say that we should not wed;
MRS GOLDSMITH: Perhaps I can bake him a challa, (pronounced with a germanic “ch” followed by “olar” as in “scholar”)
JEMIMA: My Imran don’t dig on that kind of bread.
JEMIMA: Matchwinner, matchwinner, crickets your game,
If we have sons, they’ll have your name;
And play for England if they choose the same,
BOTH: So paparazzi,
Muse on this truth,
Jemima might be,
One English youth,
Who’s able to hold her catch.
Here is Matchmaker Matchmaker from the film of Fiddler:
I don’t think Ben recorded either of my suggestions from this letter; he might have used one or both live.
I might try “Hanging Around” on the baritone ukulele; I still love that song.
Ben Murphy 14 May 1995
(Wells address redacted)
Dear Ben
THAT TAPE / THOSE TAPES
I enclose a tape with the Free Nelson Mandela song on it for your greatest hits. I still think it should be short and sharp:
Thirty one years in captivity,
In most unholy matrimony,
Are you so blind that you cannot see,
That she’s so fat she can hardly breathe;
Free Nelson Mandela (from Winnie, from Winnie,
Free Nelson Mandela (from Winnie, from Winnie).
etc.
I have also taped Hanging Around by Lou Reed which I think you could do really well “straight” – see what you think.
Those back catalogue tapes arrived towards the end of last week; ten of each, many thanks. I can now fulfil the transatlantic sample orders – don’t hold your breath. There were no inlay cards with the tapes, which is a bit of a shame. Is that because there are none left or just an oversight? If you have any left, please send them to me ASAP as I do think presentation helps, especially with our US friends.
Look forward to hearing from you soon.
Cheers.
Yours sincerely
Ian Harris (Z/Ian)
Enc.
If you have an urge to hear and see the lyrics to Free Nelson Mandela:
…and if you cannot resist the urge to hear Hanging Around by Lou Reed:
The following quickie formed part of a medley – well in the end several different medleys, but initially a VE Day Labour medley – click here.
But I’m writing this up today, 20 March 2017, on Vera Lynn’s 100th birthday.
It is strange re-reading this quickie today.
At the time, 1995, when Vera Lynn was a sprightly 78 year old, I think it was funny and it certainly went down very well. It was used/reused many times in NewsRevue – the VE Day and general 50th anniversary of the war ending stories ran and ran in the news and this was ideal material for that.
But now that Vera Lynn is 100, the song no longer has the same humour to it. Usually the passage of time makes material easier to laugh about, but in this case, the passage of time has the opposite effect.
Still, imagine the 50th anniversary of VE day; imagine wall-to-wall Vera Lynn on the radio and TV and you should still get the jokes.
Wheel Vera Lynn, out again, what a din,
Yes they’ll wheel out Vera Lynn despite her years;
Keeps crooning through, although she’s ninety two,
But they wheel out Vera Lynn to raise the tears.
That Vera still bangs the drum, for a six figure sum,
She will sing you a song;
You’ll be moved and be charmed, even ‘tho’ she’s embalmed
And her talent’s all gone.
Wheel Vera Lynn, out again, what a din,
And they’ll wheel out Vera Lynn each fifty years.
Ben Murphy used it on one of his albums – a wonderful rendition at the end of a medley, which included my VE Day Labour Medley – click here – and some of his own material.
