Oh dearie dear. Although I have yet to track down a copy myself (they're being distributed rahnd tahn as I speak), I have been regretfully informed that, owing to a "design error", my debut article for LeftLion magazine has suffered somewhat in the "actually being able to read the text on the page" department.

(Or to put it more succinctly, it "has come out looking like a dog's arsehole".)

I particularly look forward to viewing the final paragraph, which has been partially obliterated by a cut-out of a Tom Robinson Band badge. My my, someone has been having fun!

Anyhow, the happy upshot of this bothersome situation is this: the full article has been made available, with immediate effect, on the LeftLion website.

I particularly like the illustration, which casts various Midlands Gay Icons (yer Pollard, yer Fash, yer Nolly G) trolling for trade outside the Vic Centre Tesco Metro ("Nottingham's cruisiest supermarket", as the article goes on to explain). JP and I both want it on a T-shirt, so we do.

Hope you like the piece, anyway. And for those of you too lazy to press your clicking fingers into action, I'll be re-posting the piece on TD in the fullness of time.

Labels: gay, linkage, nottingham

Perhaps it’s unfair to expect comedians to be funny all the time. Perhaps, when you’re halfway through a marathon tour of the UK, the pressures of constant travel will conspire to rob you of whatever sense of humour you once had. Perhaps, when you’re nearing the end of a long-running comedy partnership, the desire to market yourself as an appealing proposition cannot help but dwindle. Perhaps, when your final series for the BBC (a “greatest hits” clippings job, with a few minutes of new material thrown in each week) has suffered poor reviews and lousy viewing figures, the desire to rule a line and move on can only make you testy and impatient.

Maybe it’s just because you were sitting on a train to Brighton, with the phone line cutting out every few minutes, feeling self-conscious about being interviewed in public, and understandably nervous about that night’s show.

Or maybe, just maybe, when your interviewer has admired your work for the thick end of a quarter of a century, and has been looking forward to communicating that admiration in person, disappointment is the only, and inevitable, outcome.

Whatever the reasons might be, the fact remains that my much anticipated chat with Jennifer Saunders turned out to be the dullest interview that I have conducted with anyone since Shayne “Mister Personality” Ward, just over a year ago. Granted, Jennifer was never less than courteous and professional – but as our conversation progressed, her answers remained resolutely terse, warily defensive, largely disinterested and utterly humourless.

(Oh, OK. I think she laughed twice. Three times, tops.)

The French and Saunders Still Alive tour, which comes to Nottingham next Thursday, has been billed as a final chance to see the pair perform together, as a comedy duo. “We’ll probably work together again, but I don’t think we’ll be doing the double act as such, unless there’s the odd Comic Relief moment.”

So, no chance of ending up like the ever-valedictory Cher, then? “No, I don’t think so. The tour is the tour, and then that’s the end of it.”

We have been here before, though. Absolutely Fabulous came to an apparent conclusion after the third series, before being resurrected for a couple of “last ever” specials a year later. Five years after that, it returned for two more series, followed by a few more specials, eventually spluttering to an end in 2005. So we might be forgiven for harbouring a few suspicions.

“Um, yeah. But that was… I never, I never wrote that off as a… I’ve never said it was finishing. You know, it’s just: when you get time, and people want it, then you do a bit more.”

If you say so, Jennifer. But what has brought about the decision to call it a day as French and Saunders?

“I think that the days of doing a sketch show have passed. There’s lots of new young acts coming up, and we’d rather quit while we’re still enjoying it – and people still want to see it – rather than letting it drift on.”

A lot of the duo’s material over the years has parodied whatever happens to be popular at the time, be it from television, music or film. There might therefore be a certain sense of relief, at not continually having to “keep up” with everything. (Dawn as Adele and Jennifer as Duffy, maybe? It’s an admittedly tantalising proposition.)

“I think it’s more about what’s a common experience these days. Much less is a common experience. I think it’s harder to play anybody, because fewer people see them. The ratings on TV shows now are tiny, compared to what they used to be. Nobody watches the same stuff. Different age groups don’t watch the same stuff.”

As for any future plans to work with her comedy partner, Jennifer is keeping an open mind. “We’ll be doing another Jam and Jerusalem, so that will be the next thing. But I’m sure that we’ll look at ideas on things we can work on together. We have a production company together, so we’re always seeing each other and talking through ideas. As ever, you never think too far ahead.”

Shooting for the third series of Jam and Jerusalem commences this spring. This is excellent news for those who have enjoyed Saunders’ shift of focus, away from the hot-house world of “media”, and towards the altogether gentler world of village life.

“We have a lovely time. Everyone really enjoys working on it, and it’s a nice fun project. It’s nice working with people that you respect so much, and writing for them.”

Although the show is clearly tightly scripted, it’s tempting to wonder whether any of the lines come from the fine ensemble cast themselves, during the filming process.

“A certain amount, but we shoot it so fast. It’s on a very quick turnover. But if a problem comes up in a scene, then we’ll sit down and change it over the lunch hour.”

Does this shift of emphasis – from the urban to the rural – mirrors changes in Jennifer’s own life?

“I think so, in a way. But there’s so much media now. When I first did Ab Fab, there wasn’t the same celebrity culture. There was only Hello! magazine. Nowadays, everyone who falls out of a cab without their pants on is a Patsy and Edina, in a way. It’s very commonplace. So where I thought there was a gap, it was in something that was basically about nice people. The only thing that it challenges is other people’s cynicism, really.”

But then there is also Saunders’ latest comic creation: Vivienne Vyle, the demonic doyenne of the daytime TV chat show, and a deliberate satire on the likes of Jeremy Kyle. (From Vyle to Kyle: the reference is hardly a subtle one.) Has Kyle offered any response to being so expertly skewered?

“No, none. Absolutely no response.” A steely silence, maybe? “I’m sure he’s blissfully unaware.”

As for the many other public figures that have been targeted by French and Saunders over the years, it seems that none have ever kicked up a fuss. “I don’t think anybody has, really. If we do it on the show, then we tend to invite them along anyway.”

One of the duo’s most memorable parodies was Dawn French’s take on Catherine Zeta-Jones, some of which is reprised on video during the tour. This apparently heavy reliance on video footage has come in for criticism in some of the reviews – but before I could give Jennifer the chance to answer the charge, I was hastily, anxiously silenced. “Don’t tell me, please. Honestly, don’t tell me anything. I’m not reading them, so please don’t tell me.”

Time for one final question, then. Once the tour is over, and the double act put to rest, it must be tempting to think: right, I’ve reached a certain stage in my life (Saunders turns fifty in July), I’ve been at the top of my game for twenty-five years, my daughters will soon be leaving home, and so maybe I don’t need to work so hard any more. Wouldn’t it be nice just to stay down in Devon, keeping chickens, and maybe opening the occasional village fete?

“Well, if we were that rich, then yes – but we only work for the BBC! I think you’ve read too many of those lists! But I don’t think I’d be tempted, anyway. I enjoy my job, and I think it’s a really good, fun job. We’re very lucky, and as long as we can do it, then we’ll keep on doing it.”

This article is the cover story in today's EG colour supplement, inside the Nottingham Evening Post.

(Photo taken on February 5, 2007 by Bryan Ledgard)

Labels: celebs, comedy, eveningpost, interviews

Ten days after the official launch, the instant success of our village community blog has surpassed all expectations. New posts are appearing at least twice a day, usually more (to say nothing of static pages on the rest of the site), and people have been quick to grasp the concept of leaving comments. We have received many e-mails from people both inside and outside the village, offering extra written and photographic content, or simply expressing their appreciation. Our initial editorial team of three will have expanded to six by the end of next week; we've been mentioned in one local magazine, and are getting whispers about possible coverage in a national magazine; and as for the visitor stats, we pulled in a whopping 429 page views on Tuesday alone.

(It took me about eighteen months of solid, regular blogging to achieve a similar figure on Troubled Diva, and yet the village blog has got there in less than two weeks. Which isn't bad going for a community with only 500 people on the electoral register.)

What I haven't yet explained is that there's a serious purpose behind all of this effort, which extends over and above the immediate benefits of providing an information service and community-building facility.

We are currently seeking funding for an ambitious yet necessary re-build of our memorial hall, and have already passed the first stage of the lottery bid, netting £23,350 in order to help us prepare for the next stage.

To support this application, as well as applications from other funding bodies, a lively and active blog provides demonstrable evidence of our strengths as an active community, that is capable of successfully organising itself. We also hope that it will help to attract commercial sponsors, who will see the benefits of being visibly associated with such a worthy initiative. Many companies set money aside to support projects in their area, and we hope that this will make us a particularly attractive box to tick.

It therefore helps our cause to have the blog being talked about, outside the immediate confines of the village - and we already know that this is starting to happen.

And of course, anything that you can do to help us along would be more than welcome...

Labels: blogs, community, derbyshire, linkage

(As excavated from the comments box at Popular - where it makes slightly more sense in context, but it seemed a shame not to share.)

Re: It Ain't Half Hot Mum: I’m trying and failing to Form A Position on Melvyn Hayes, but he’s proving rather slippery to pin down. (Wa-HEY!)

As a 13-year old who was growing uncomfortably aware that his Fancying GURLS phase of a year earlier was just that, a Phase, the growing prominence of that stock mid-1970s comic character, The Mincing Poof, was… not entirely helpful, shall we say. For in the absence of any other readily available role models, The Mincing Poof was all we had, and she weren’t doing us no favours neither.

But then, that’s the perspective of a closeted and increasingly terrified 13 year old. For if I had been ten years older, more secure in my identity, and acclimatised to the sub-culture, then I might well have regarded Messrs Hayes, Inman and Grayson with a good deal more fondness. After all, as Harvey “Torch Song Trilogy” Fierstein once said of the “sissy boys” of 1930s Hollywood: any representation is better than no representation.

And in any case, all three characters were allowed to maintain quite a substantial degree of dignity, self-knowledge and self-acceptance. They certainly weren’t portrayed as pathetic, self-loathing victims, forever trying and failing to ensnare the hapless heteros. Instead, each was able, in a certain sense, to claim his space. There was mockery, but there was also affection.

Compare and contrast with the out and out minstrel-show vileness of Dick Emery’s “Honky Tonks”, Duncan “Chase Me!” Norvelle, any number of sitcom cameos… and even, I’m sorry to say, some of the more questionable Monty Python representations (Graham Chapman, you should have known better).

Anyway, yes, “Whispering Grass”. I loved the show (as did all my classmates) and I got the joke. Can’t say much more than that.

But better than Dad’s Army? Ooh no, wouldn’t go that far. Better than latter day teetering-into-self-parody Dad’s Army maybe, but those earlier series were in a class of their own.

These army-nostalgia sitcoms were a little sub-genre of their own, weren’t they? And here’s another one: Get Some In, which covered the National Service period of the 1950s. I seem to remember that “POOF-ARSE!” was one of its favourite terms of abuse. Dark days, dark days!

(P.S. A vignette to share with the group. My father, a sentimental man, once burst into tears while watching The Good Life. My step-mother, an unsentimental woman, asked him what on earth was the matter. His stricken reply: “It’s just that Felicity Kendal is SO NICE, and I wish I was married to HER, not YOU!”)

Labels: popmusic

(As excavated from the comments box at Popular, as highly recommended as ever.)

Well, I absolutely ADORED “Oh Boy”, perhaps assisted by never having heard the original. (Indeed, I think this may still be true; there’s a glaring Holly-shaped gap in my musical knowledge.) But this was, to a large extent, circumstantial. I’d been at boarding school for six months by now, and hence with far less control over my exposure to music than I had been used to. Thursday night TOTPs were rationed to the first ten minutes, after supper and before prep, when dozens of us literally sprinted out of the dining hall each week, and straight into the TV room to catch every second. And on Sunday evenings, there were enough radio sets knocking around to ensure that we heard the the Top 20.

Other than that, it was a wasteland, dominated by overheard prog leaking from the studies of the senior boys… and eventually, the mono turntable in the common room, which turned up during the Easter term, but which was almost entirely controlled by the Cool Police in the year above (I think one of them owned it).

They were an unusual Cool Police, though. Top power plays included The Allman Brothers’ Brothers And Sisters, Sha Na Na, the first New York Dolls album… and Mud Rock Volume One, which didn’t really fit any of the prevalent definitions of cool at all, but there you go: someone in charge liked them, so Mud were allowed.

This extended to the 7? of “Oh Boy”, which the Cool Police played and played and played, and played again some more. During the 20 minute morning break period, it was sometimes played as much as three times… and, for whatever reason, all of us loved it beyond all reason.

Maybe it was just - as sometimes happens with chart pop -an almost arbitrary assignment of an anthem, which somehow made us feel that much more aware of the thrill of living in the present. (If that makes any sense at all.) But I do think that it’s stuffed full of great moments, such as the a capella intro and outro bookends (the outro mirroring the intro so closely that it somehow wanted to make you immediately play the whole thing again), and yes, the hesitation on “hesitating”, and the silly breathy voiceover from Ellie Hope (later of Liquid Gold), and really just the lovely crisp choral cleanness of it all. As with most of Mud’s best moments, it felt like a party to which all were invited.

Objectively a 7, subjectively a 10.

Labels: popmusic

Nottingham readers might like to know that I've got an article appearing in the new edition of the reliably ace LeftLion magazine, which hits the streets tomorrow lunchtime, priced at a very competitive zero pounds and zero pence. It's a full page "think piece" on what it's like to be gay in Nottingham, and as such I had a lot fun writing it. Thanks to Nottingham's 'Mr Sex' for making it all happen.

For everyone else, I'll post the article on Troubled Diva in a few days' time.

Also out tomorrow, as the cover story for EG: When Mike Met Jennifer (Saunders) - His Dullest Interview Yet! Hey, you can't win 'em all.

Other interviews in the pipeline: Barry Adamson, Elbow, Gaz Coombes (Supergrass) and Liza Minnelli.

(Although I'll believe that last one when I see it. I think we're up to six re-schedulings now, the latest being this afternoon, TEN! MINUTES! before we were due to speak. From "Maybe This Time" to "Don't Drop Bombs"... or am I losing my, am I losing my...)

Nearly a year after the release of their debut album, the critical plaudits continue to roll in for this five-piece band from Kilsyth, near Glasgow. On the strength of Tuesday night’s arresting show, it is easy to see why. Taking the so-called “shoegazing” music of the early 1990s as their starting point, the Twilight Sad mix the widescreen, effects-laden sound of My Bloody Valentine with the fuzzed-out squall of the Jesus and Mary Chain, adding some of the sweetness of classic Phil Spector for good measure.

Perhaps their nearest contemporary counterparts are the much-vaunted Glasvegas, particularly in the heavily accented vocal department – but the material is denser, less immediate, less anthemic, and altogether more personal.

Standing at right angles to the stage, singer James Graham combined Ian Curtis-like intensity with a gentler, more measured approach. The overall impact was undeniably dramatic – but it was also unexpectedly uplifting, and almost reassuring.

(Photo taken on November 29, 2007 by nailest)

Labels: eveningpost, gigs, popmusic

Shiny New Web Toy of the week has to be Muxtape, which is spreading like wildfire around some of the places which I frequent.

Here's mine. Now show me yours...

Labels: linkage, mp3, popmusic