Closure. That’s a healthy state to aspire to, isn’t it? Therefore, and since I’m feeling re-inspired by Anna’s current “You ask, I answer” exercise – which was in turn inspired by my own long-abandoned effort – I shall once again attempt to answer the questions which you asked me five months ago.
OK, hit me.
Vaughan asked (with rather more topicality at the time):
If you could choose one British pop act of the past decade to represent the UK at Eurovision, who would it be – and why?
Aha! An easy lob. There can only be one answer: the MIGHTY Girls Aloud. But only on condition that their entry was written and produced, like nearly all of their singles to date, by the pop genius that is Brian Higgins of Xenomania. The hooks, the looks: oh, it would be a stroll in the park for the lot of them.
Vaughan also asked (with seemingly as little topicality then as now):
Would you and K consider offering photographic greetings cards for other times of the year apart from Christmas?
How timely you should ask.
Last Christmas, we had fully intended to issue a photographic greeting depicting the two of us staring forlornly into space at opposite ends of the bench on the village green, adorned with the caption “We’re the only Gays in the village.” But, you know, pressure of deadlines, blah-di-blah.
You can therefore imagine our outrage at discovering, only this week, that Sky One will shortly be screening a reality TV series called The Only Gays In The Village, in which comedian Scott Capurro and three other as yet unidentified Urban Celebrity Poofs are sent to live in a farmhouse in rural Derbyshire for a few weeks – with the inevitable Hilarious Consequences, no doubt.
Yes: our entire existences have been pitched – pitched, I tell you! – and turned into mass entertainment.
So no, there will be no more photographic greetings. At least, not without full international licensing deals.
Finally, Vaughan asked:
From your extensive music collection, what five CDs would you save in the event of some natural disaster striking your home?
Firstly, let’s assume that the same natural disaster has also wiped out the country’s entire CD manufacturing and distribution networks, while still leaving the rest of our infrastructure intact. Because, love them as I do, I have never become sentimentally attached to a CD in the way that I was once attached to vinyl. A vinyl album or single is almost a living, breathing life-form in its own right (and my, isn’t the CBT therapist going to have a field day with that one), whereas a CD is just an inert – and entirely replaceable – software delivery system.
(Besides, which home are we talking about? Rock/dance/back catalogue lives in Nottingham, whereas soul/funk/jazz/world/latin/acoustic/downtempo stuff lives in Derbyshire. When we moved out there, I actually went through my entire album collection, separating them into “Urban” and “Rural” categories. Well, wouldn’t anyone?)
I’m playing for time, because this is a nigh-impossible question.
Well, I wouldn’t have much time to think about this, would I? So, in the spirit of the Mad Dash that would ensue, I’ll give you five off the top of my head.
Kevin Ayers – Joy Of A Toy.
The The – Soul Mining.
Leonard Cohen – I’m Your Man.
Ultramarine – Every Man And Woman Is A Star.
Maxwell – Maxwell’s Urban Hang Suite.
Something for most occasions there, I think.