Grumpy Old Women - York - November 2007

The past cast of Grumpy Old Women reads like a who's who of HRT - the genius co-author Jenny Éclair, Linda Robson, Rhona Cameron; these are not ladies in whose presence a man feels at ease, so it was with some trepidation that I acquired tickets for my grumpy old lady's birthday.

Man, oh man, oh, man. Yep, I think that's it; three other blokes in the York Grand Opera House; you can taste the oestrogen (at least I hope it's oestrogen). Is it legal for so many women to be drunk in one place? It's like Glasgow city centre in A-line skirts.

Our hosts this evening are Denise Black (formerly the second most glamorous barmaid at the Rovers Return), self-styled "Posh Grump" and only remaining GOW "original" Dillie Keane and, wait a minute, that can't be right…

About 25 years ago I had a poster of Mary Goodnight on my bedroom wall. Clad in a bikini, it was the "aren't we a little overdressed?" scene from The Man With The Golden Gun.

Britt Ekland can be as grumpy as she likes but, like David Cassidy, Rod Stewart and others of her generation, she'll never be old. Not to these eyes.



The girls (I can call them "girls", can't I?) mesh wonderfully to deliver a slick script which is, in turn, inspiring and thought provoking but always hilarious. Britt, resigned to her fate as a GOW, reminisces about her dalliances with film and rock stars; Dillie, revelling in her GOW status, shouts and screams in a frighteningly authentic manner; Denise, clinging to her youth and refusing to grow up, slowly embraces her GOW-hood.

From list obsessions to the Lakeland catalogue, the show skips smoothly through a whole range of subjects which, in the grand scheme of things, don't matter but, when taken together, just wind us all (GOW and GOM alike) up.

So many highlights - the GOW manifesto; Dillie trying to channel Meg Ryan but knowing the immersion's been left on; Denise's oh-so-familiar experiences with her teenagers; Britt telling fart jokes.

The world is a slightly better place for Britt Ekland telling fart jokes.

Great show. Right, I'm off to buy some biscuit carriers. Has anyone seen my Lakeland catalogue?

Vampires Rock - Blackpool - November 2007

Past Times With Good Company

Linda and I aren't really antisocial. We comment regularly that we don't "do" people but, in honesty, this is a reaction to the fact that, thus far, we have achieved what we have in spite of, rather than thanks to, others. It's not that we don't like company, we just don't need it; we've got each other and that's a lot, y'know?

One upshot is that it makes our occasional nights out with like-minded friends that little bit more special.

So, Vampires Rock at the Blackpool Opera House; where to begin?

Steve Steinman is a jammy bastard, will that do? Talk about being in the right place at the right time. For the uninitiated, Steve was a losing contestant on an early series of Stars In Their Eyes, but he made a good enough impression (pun intended, obviously) to launch himself onto the circuit and become Britain's number one Meatloaf tribute act.

Thing is, he looks about as much like Meatloaf as I do; Steve looks more like Alexei Sayle, or maybe the wrestler Kane. This hasn't, however, stopped him building a sizeable and loyal fanbase and he sells out venues up and down the country with what is, in effect, a glorified pub covers band.

None of these guys look any more like Meatloaf than I do.

His current show tries really hard to recapture the spirit of Rocky Horror but falls desperately short. The narrative can be summarised as follows;
Our narrator, Stringfellow, guides us through the tale as Baron von Rockula (Steinman), a vampire who owns a nightclub, auditions singer Pandora Honey Rosiebox (yes, there are lots of weak "box" jokes throughout). She falls for him (without even putting up a fight), gets turned into a vampire and they marry (these last two steps might've been the other way around).
That's it. No twists, no turns, just boy meets girl and they bonk happily ever after.

I mean, come on! Baron von Rockula? Even Eurovision metal monsters Lordi would turn their noses up at a name like that!

This flimsy script links together an assortment of songs from The Greatest Rock Cliche Album In The World... Ever! to give us the world's first hair-metal pantomime. Strangely, it kind of works.

The backing band is competent if not earth-shattering, though their harmonies could do with some work. Lead vocal duties are shared between Rockula, Pandora and Stringfellow.

What quickly becomes apparent is that Steinman can only sing "as" Meatloaf; consequently, we learn what the inevitable 'Loaf covers album (everyone else seems to be doing one) is going to sound like.

For the record - Welcome to the Jungle (surprisingly good), If You Want Blood (likewise), Since You've Been Gone (disappointing), Here I Go Again (fair-to-middling), Highway to Hell (laughably bad).

It's ironic that he sounds least like Meatloaf when he's singing - you guessed it - Meatloaf songs. He simply hasn't got the range for Deadringer For Love or Bat Out of Hell.

Pandora (played by a second Stars In Their Eyes failure, Emily Clark) first appears as a dowdy Su Pollard lookalike but is then transformed into a vamp-y (again, pun intended) rock chick. She takes centre stage for Holding On For A Hero (her "Stars..." moment - a straight copy of the original), Don't Stop Me Now, Alice Cooper's Poison (nice rework) and Devil Gate Drive.

Sadly for Emily, I met Suzi Q a few weeks back and I'm afraid that the divine Miss Quatro is far sexier, fully clothed and nearly sixty, than "Pandora" could ever be.

Stringfellow is the Buttons/RifRaf character and isn't nearly as funny as he should be. The over-egged "joke" that he likes Abba falls a bit flat since, let's be honest, everyone likes Abba. He takes vocals on a few songs but I'm buggered if I can remember any of them - largely forgettable.

Vocal highpoint of the show was the Pandora/Rockula duet version of Total Eclipse Of The Heart which made way more sense than the original and had me wondering what a genuine Meatloaf/Bonnie collaboration might sound like.

Then there was Fingers.

If Steinman has struck it lucky, the losing hand must've been dealt to Eddie Ojeda. What is Eddie Ojeda doing touring a show like this? This guy has been with Twisted Sister for over thirty years; he played on Hear'n'Aid; he's a real, live icon! He must be getting paid well, must be.

We get precious little demonstration of his talent - just a couple of short solos - but enough to show he is far and away the most talented guy on the stage (if not in the auditorium ~taps nose knowingly~). Eddie closes out the show by leading the crowd in a rousing version of Sister anthem We're Not Gonna Take It.

Oh, and we got a drum solo.

Look, can we stop pretending now, please? For nearly 40 years rock fans have been subjected to five minutes (somethimes, heaven forbid, more) of rat-a-tat-fucking-tat in the middle of gigs.

We know drummers are talented guys and that the sound would be rubbish without you, but it isn't a solo instrument. Drumming is pretty crap without all the other guys (you know, the musical ones) playing along so just DON'T DO IT, OK?

Just Say NO to drums, kids.

Am I glad I went? Hell, yeah! Would I pay to go back? Well, the wife enjoyed it.

And the company was good.

Right. It's nearly December. I'm off to dig out the Twisted Sister Christmas Album and annoy the family for a while.

Two Twisted Sisters - Linda'n'Eddie

One of these guys is a mind-blowing guitarist

Still Buzzin' / Ben Brown - Rock Café, Huddersfield - November 2007

After LiveWired, I never expected my path to cross Ben Brown's again, but I'm glad it did because I fear I sold him a bit short last time out.

The Rock Café's smaller, more intimate environs suit his style much better than the sprawling stage of an empty Slawit sports centre and, once the PA problems had been resolved, he treated us to a set featuring superb interpretations of the Kinks' Sunny Afternoon, Radiohead's Creep and a variety of his own compositions.

Thing is, and this is where my first review failed him, his own stuff is better than the covers. Strong melodies, evocative lyrics and a fearless and intelligent approach to arrangement; Ben writes bloody good songs which the Q demographic will love.

Get rid of the Joe Dolce hat, though.

It's about time we got around to seeing Still Buzzin' on their own terms rather than in a support capacity. Here again, the venue suited them much better than the more open stages; it seemed to hold the sound together much better, giving a more rounded feel.

(Does that make any sense at all? I know what I was trying to say…)

I'll be blunt here; Still Buzzin' shouldn't work. There are so many things "wrong" that it should be like a really bad episode of the X Factor. The choice of material is bizarre (Bon Jovi, Blondie, U****ing2 and Kelly Clarkson should never, ever appear together in a set list - it's like putting 30 years of Now That's What I Call Music on random play).

On top of this, they don't look like pop stars; yet, they come on stage - Paul grinning like a toddler with a balloon, Steve stalking him, looking likely to steal said toy, Clive and Ian hiding in their corners, Martin hoping not to be mistaken for Gerry Adams' long-lost brother; and you can't help but want to join the party.

Then Natz sings.

The band is, without doubt, greater than the sum of its parts, but Natz is their ace in the hole. Whether she's taking the lead on Bitch, Crazy Chick or Thorn In My Side (you see what I mean about material?) or backing up Paul on Don't Want To Miss A Thing or Pride (In the Name of Love) she never misses a beat, never misses a note (well, except on Hanging On The Telephone, where she missed a whole line!)

Hmm. Pride.

It's a little-known fact that Dante's Inferno was censored by the Vatican. The original version had 10, rather than 9, circles of hell. The final ring was reserved for those worse than fraudsters, killers, traitors and heretics; it was the preserve of over-rated Irish musicians. Unfortunately, the Church of Rome, never knowingly averse to a bit of corruption, took a bung from that ****ing sanctimonious **** Bono and had him (and the gobby one from the Boomtown Rats) spared by threatening Dante with "eternal imprisonment, yea even in thrall to the dread three-headed demon, Mariah Houston-Dion".

Faced with such a prospect, Dante handed editorial control to Rome and went down the pub.

You've probably guessed, I could have done without Pride. That said, it wasn't a bad version, it's just hard to polish s***e.

Many songs - I haven't mentioned Erasure (big kudos to Paul for his vocal on A Little Respect), Brian Adams, Stereophonics, Kaiser Chiefs, Green Day, Pink - later, the band closed out their set proper with Let Me Entertain You before being tempted back to give us a SAHB-style Delilah, so ending a very enjoyable set on an appropriately strange high.

Still Buzzin' don't do school discos but, if they did, it'd probably be the best school disco in the world.