*Minder
Minor quibbles aside, Behind the Fairytale was, much like the song it paid tribute to, quite marvellous, and you should definitely listen to it now, or preferably sooner, if you've not done so already.
Mildly Interesting Pop Fact: As befitting such a classic song, Fairytale has been covered dozens of times, by artists as diverse as KT Tunstall, Katzenjammer, The Wurzels, and, unforgivably, Ronan bastard Keating - a man with so little soul or empathy for the lyrics that he took out all the nasty wasty lyrics that might offend the army of easily-pleased simpletons who comprise his fanbase. Happy Christmas your arse, Ro-nan.
Apart from the woman filming this on her phone, pretty much every other passenger seems to be doing that thing people do on trains in the UK nowadays i.e. existing in their own little private universe and ignoring any commotion going on around them. Despite the fact that this particular commotion is being caused by a pissed-up, internationally famous 1980s pop star caterwauling two of her biggest hits at them from literally inches away. I mean, look at those blokes standing by the doors. I hope I never catch fire when any of them are in the vicinity. They'd probably not even bother weeing on me. Arseholes. God I hate people. Not Kim Wilde though. Or you. Watch this - it's quite possibly the best thing I've ever seen.
Both turned 50 this year and both are now published authors - Clare writing fiction for young girls in Tallulah & The Teenstars and John Gordon/Gordon John having recently had his debut crime thriller, Seventy Times Seven, published to rave reviews. No, I never saw that one coming either. Fair play though!
Anyway, if, like me, you're nuts about everything Gregory's Girl-related, you can watch the whole thing here (UK readers only again, alas):
Artworks Scotland: When Clare Grogan Met John Gordon Sinclair
Spike: "How often do you see genuine midgets? I've seen two today already. TWO!!"
Me: "Oh yes you have! (Must be panto season)"
Spike: "Maybe that's it - exotic panto actors from out of the area. What's our panto this year?"
Me (Googling it): "...Snow White & The Seven Dwarfs!"
Spike: "That explains everything!"
Suburban Kids With Biblical Names - Little Boys in the Ghetto mp3
(with apologies to anyone outside the UK, for whom the link won't be accessible)
Another area where they went wrong was by not using the Gallup UK Top 40 - i.e. the only one that anyone paid attention to or cared about - as their chart of choice, instead plumping for the Network Chart, a sort of independent local radio Aldi version. Here's "Kid" with the Top 10 rundown from 9th June 1987. Hilariously, he refers to George Michael's (admittedly risible) I Want Your Sex as "the controversial cut" (at least I think he says "cut"!), as saying the actual title on early-evening TV would've clearly sent the country into disarray.
So far so mediocre. But oh look! It's one-hit wonder Taja Savelle miming along to Love Is Contagious. This performance is notable for two things: 1) Her remarkable hair. It's utterly transfixing. She's like a good-looking Medusa. & 2) She's sitting down! At least for the first minute she is. Then, just when you're starting to think that maybe she's a Paralympic popstrel or sommat, she stands up and proves that those legs do work after all. Thank gawd for that.
As it says on screen there, Taja was yet another Prince protege. It's funny how the purple pervert only ever seemed to write singles for especially good-looking girlies. Why, it's almost as if he had some sort of agenda!
Finally, here's Depeche Mode & Never Let Me Down Again featuring a midriff-baring Dave Gahan. I'm surprised Prince never wrote a song for him as well*.
*No I'm not.
Anyway, that's about it for The Roxy. Plunged into the middle of a pretty uninspiring pop landscape and up against a programme with over two decades of history, it was always going to be doomed from the start. Mind you, it didn't help that, much like this post, it was all a bit half-arsed really. I'm just sorry for wasting all our time here. Poxy Roxy!
I don't care how hopeless your teammate might be, there's no excuse for that kind of sulkiness past the age of seven. Besides, you were the one who agreed to appear on the programme alongside her. Do your homework next time! It's embarrassing enough for the one on the left as it is without you making her feel even worse about it. No, leftie, you should definitely drop rightie and get some friends who might be a bit supportive when you stuff up! (Although I'm guessing that rightie will have probably disowned leftie immediately after filming finished anyway.)
*goes for a long lie down*
Mind, it had its drawbacks too. I can't say I noticed it at the time but watching old clips now the show's main presenter, Alastair Pirrie, was quite an irksome presence. Possessed of an unfortunate and persistent giggle-cum-cackle and a rather overbearing manner, he was like a cross between a budget DLT and the actual Timmy Mallett.
Oh, and he could be hilariously Partridge-esque when interviewing the great and the good of the pop world - as evidenced by this short interview with Paul McCartney when our man, keen to ingratiate himself with His Royal Fabness, keeps banging on about how he much loves The Other Man from the latest album Pipes of Peace. Macca, obviously well used to interviewers waffling in his presence, smiles politely but, when Pirrie repeats how much he loves The Other Man, eventually puts him right and informs him that the song's actually called The Other Me. Whoops.
Anyway, on to today's main clips. These are sort of chosen on a theme; the theme being that they all feature people who, for one reason or another, you'd struggle to secure an interview with on kids' TV - or any media platform at all, really - today. They also highlight the high calibre of guests your typical pop programme could hope to land back in those days.
So here we see Kate Bush (Kate Bush!) talking earnestly about the music video-making process flanked by a load of initially bored-looking kids; she actually ends up interacting with them quite sweetly, though. Thankfully Alastair Pirrie's not around to bungle this interview either. He'd have probably called her love and pinched her arse or something, all in the name of "fun" of course.
Next it's a rare early performance from the much-missed Kirsty MacColl singing that one about the fella from the Chinese takeaway who reckons he's Charles Hawtrey or something. Oh you know the one!
And finally Pirrie (arghh!) interviews Frida and Agnetha (Agnetha!) from ABBA. There's a really awkward bit here when he asks Agnetha to tell us more about the new single, One Of Us, and what it's about, and you can see the pain etched on her face as she struggles to avoid saying "Well, it's basically about my failed marriage but written by my ex-husband and thus lyrically making me sound like the guilty party who's now desperate for a reconciliation and anyway I'm off to live in the woods soon on my own save for a stalker who I'll invite to move in with me but who'll probably start hoarding my pooh or something and it'll all end in predictably disastrous fashion, but yeah, thanks for asking, you big clot!"
So yes, Razzmatazz. It was no Top of the Pops, and the main presenter was a bit of a wazzock, but it regularly served up some of the biggest names on the pop scene and it had games and jokes and fancy illuminated displays in the background with the acts' names on, so if you were 11 or 12 it was pretty magical. And, like all the most memorable shows of yore, it had a properly catchy theme tune. All together now: Ra-ra-ra-ra... Razz-a-matazz!
