Tag: Canal Cafe Theatre

According to my log, I wrote an initial version of this lyric 15 August 1993 but the first version I have in electronic form is labelled V2 from 28 August:

IT’S SLOW NEWS WEEK – REVISED

(To the Tune of “It’s Good News Week”)
 
VERSE 1
 
It’s slow news week,  {ummmmmmmmm}
MPs still on holiday, if most of them would stay away,
Then things may turn out right.
It’s low news week,  {ummmmmmmmm}
Gummer had a rotten day, while Pete and Gini Bottomley,
Were on the Isle of Wight.
 
MIDDLE BIT 1
 
Let’s make up the news,
What can we say?
Paul Gascoigne’s fat,
And Cliff Richard might be gay {and Cliff Richard might be gay}.
 
VERSE 2
 
It’s slow news week,  {ummmmmmmmm}
Emma Thompson sneezed somewhere, and Kenneth Brannagh’s pubic hair,
Has started to turn grey;
It’s no news week,  {ummmmmmmmm}
Stephen Fry is celibate, he’d rather eat some halibut,
Than get his end away.
 
MIDDLE BIT 2
 
Let’s make up more news,
Affairs of state;
Diana’s blues,
Does Prince Edward masturbate? {does Prince Edward masturbate?}.
 
VERSE 3
 
It’s duff news week,  {ummmmmmmmm}
Now Ted Danson’s new toupee has helped him get his end away,
With Whoopie Goldberg’s trunk;
It gets more weak;  {ummmmmmmmm}
Hair transplant for Brian Clough but journalists are paid enough,
To spare us from this junk {so spare us from this junk, just spare us from this junk}.

Below is the song It’s Good News Week performed by Hedgehoppers Anonymous.

Click here for the lyrics to It’s Good News Week

Below is Version 3 of my lyric, dated 12 September 1993:

IT’S SLOW NEWS WEEK – REVISED

(To the Tune of “It’s Good News Week”)
 
VERSE 1
 
It’s slow news week,  {ummmmmmmmm}
MPs back from holiday, if most of them had stay away,
I’m sure we still would cope.
It’s low news week,  {ummmmmmmmm}
Conferences are such a bore, those yanks Bill Clinton and Al Gore,
Are such a pair of dopes.
 
MIDDLE BIT 1
 
Let’s make up the news,
What can we say?
Paul Gascoigne’s fat,
And Cliff Richard might be gay {and Cliff Richard might be gay}.
 
VERSE 2
 
It’s slow news week,  {ummmmmmmmm}
Emma Thompson sneezed somewhere, and Kenneth Brannagh’s pubic hair,
Has started to turn grey;
It’s no news week,  {ummmmmmmmm}
Stephen Fry is celibate, he’d rather eat some halibut,
Than get his end away.
 
MIDDLE BIT 2
 
Let’s make up more news,
Affairs of state;
Diana’s blues,
Does Prince Edward masturbate? {does Prince Edward masturbate?}.
 
VERSE 3
 
It’s duff news week,  {ummmmmmmmm}
Now Ted Danson’s new toupee has helped him get his end away,
With Whoopie Goldberg’s trunk;
It gets more weak;  {ummmmmmmmm}
Hair transplant for Brian Clough but journalists are paid enough,
To spare us from this junk {so spare us from this junk, just spare us from this junk}.

Version 1 (which I’d guess was similar to Version 2) might turn up in hard copy form. I’ll upload a scan of it if it shows up. But it might well be lost in the mists of time.

This summertime special has a perennial quality to it, but I think it wasn’t much if at all used by NewsRevue; perhaps for that very reason.

I rather like it still and think it has some timely and reflective relevance in these #MeToo times – he says writing in October 2018.

DO YOU KNOW THE WAY TO ST TROPEZ?

(To the Tune of “Do You Know The Way To San Jose?”)

 

Wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo, wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo;

VERSE 1 – GOLD DIGGERS OF 1993

Do you know the way to St Tropez,

We hope to find that France, gives us a chance to score today.

Do you know the way to St Tropez,

We’re going out to find, some rich gold mine in St Tropez.

MIDDLE BIT 1 – STILL THE GOLD DIGGERS

Juan is a great big freebie,

Find a wealthy guy and fly to Cannes,

In a week maybe two you’ll have a sun tan,

And some melanoma on the way;

And all the Sloanes are on their yachts,

And cruising gently round the bay.

 

VERSE 2 – LES FRENCH LADS

We were born and raised in St Tropez,

We’ve got a lot of cash, we’ll make a splash and have our way.

We can both get laid in St Tropez,

We find that English chicks, all want some kicks on holiday.

 

MIDDLE BIT 2 – ENCORE LES FRENCH LADS

We attract them like a magnet,

Screw a hundred, OK maybe ten,

They believe that we all are French noblemen,

When they learn the truth they will be sad;

The only count inside our pad,

Is counting all the girls we’ve had.

 

OUTRO

LES GIRLS:We both made a wrap in St Tropez,

Wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo;

LES LADS:We both caught the clap in St Tropez,

Wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo;

We both blew the works in St Tropez, (revealing empty pockets)

Wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo;

LES GIRLS:We sponged off these burks in St Tropez,

Wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo wo;

ALL:Wo.

Here is a video of Dionne Warwick singing Do You Know the Way To San Jose…

…while the following one also shows you the lyrics to that fine Hal David & Bert Bacharach song:

Writing in March 2019, it is strange to recall that sense we had in the early 1990s that somehow the Labour Party was conspiring with itself to avoid ever returning to power. That emotion seems so very late 2010’s.

In 2019, the irony of my mentioning the newborn UNISON in this 1993 song is not wasted on me either, as my working life has got me so very close to that organisation these last 20 years or so.

There is irony that I hope goes unwasted in my choice of Brecht/Weill music for this lyric. But then what would an ethnically-challenged dude like me know of irony, I can almost hear Jeremy Corbyn cry?

Anyway, here’s the lyric:

THE INADEQUACY OF SOCIALIST ENDEAVOUR


(To the Tune of “The Inadequacy Of Human Endeavour”)
 
VERSE 1
 
The Labour Party’s not,
About to stop the rot,
We always seem to top the polls but still win not a lot.
Every by-election,
Seems to go the Liberals way,
When will we Socialists find,
Something new to say?
 
VERSE 2
 
Trades unions main whim,
Is keeping Labour’s vim,
They merge to form a big block vote and longer acronym.
COHSE, NUPE, NALGO,
Now all work in UNISON;
Even tho’ six months ago,
None of them got on.
 
VERSE 3
 
The Tories reach nadirs,
With frauds and sexual smears,
But Labour still has failed to win for nearly twenty years.
Smith and Margaret Beckett,
Are an unattractive pair;
No-one believes the rumours,
About their affair.
 
VERSE 4
 
Now we’re more like the right,
We’ll get out of our plight,
The people will trust us again and then we’ll win the fight.
Cuts and lower taxes,
Claw back benefits we paid ‘ya;
Soon all the woolly lefties,
Will vote for John Major.

Here is a link to the song Das Lied von der Unzulänglichkeit des menschlichen Strebens, sung by Bertold Brecht himself, with the lyrics underneath. Or, if you just want to hear the song and see what Brecht looked like, click the embedded link below.

If you want an English translation of the lyrics, The Inadequacy (or Insufficiency) Of Human Endeavour, click here.