February 12th – The band Kajagoogoo, the members of which to
me all looked like their heads were exploding, could be considered a real
puzzle from the pop world. Never before in the field of egomaniacle pop history
have so many reunions been undergone by so few for so little result. With egos
to the fore, the band's members pursued self-destruction and at one and the same time became the epitome of both
crass pop and the ability of the British to be suckered into buying any old
stuff if it’s groomed right and sold well. Riding on the breaker of Art
Nouveau, the band released several singles under several different line ups,
all of these recordings being instantly forgettable. Go on, have a go; name
one… The music dweebs amongst you may have come up with ‘Too Shy’ but I’ll bet
that was about it.
A lot of the success of such bands
relies very heavily on 3 things: the hype; the age-range aimed at; the continuing
desire of some members of society to follow what is posited as left-field in
fashion no matter how foolish it makes them look. Indeed, most fashion
movements that infiltrate the working classes have to have a musical soundtrack
to go with it (Rock ‘n’ Roll – New Romantic – Punk) otherwise it perishes very
quickly. I guess it keeps the money swishing around, but the drain it usually
goes down (and the sewer it settles in) is usually the bank account of some
fast-tracker who uses the gullibility of wannabe's in order for them to buy their
next yacht.
OK, that may have been a bit unfair
(a ‘bit’ Peter?) so let me try and make amends. Having dissed this branch of
empty-vessel music to the full, I have to admit the plus side to this
lemming-like activity is what we refer to as musical memories; and no bad thing
either. We all became a member of the shoal variant that swam in our particular
musical sea, and our belonging gave the members (us) the opportunity to grow,
to stretch, to individualise and discover and, in the latter years of life, to
reminisce with others who wore a cloak of musical respectability that matched
ours. So, for all those who followed Kajagoogoo, accept my apologies and I wish
you happy memories! But that’s not what this piffle is all about; it’s about
another musical phenomenon, one you may not have come across before; Tiny Tim.
Those that know, forgive me
simplifying. Those that don’t: Tiny Tim – American singer and performer – made
his name in the 60’s - entered into the hallowed halls of hippiedom - long hair,
brightly coloured suits and a way with a tune that set him apart from the flock
and stamped his membership card into the hippie generation. But what was SO odd
about him and his popularity was that, at the time of psychedelia (Hendrix,
Pink Floyd, turn on, tune in, drop out, piss off) this forty-something year old
man could captivate a huge audience and strangle a whole load of bucks by
singing ‘Tip-toe Through the Tulips’ in a falsetto voice and accompanied by a
ukulele...and get away with it…for years! Now, there IS a real puzzle from the
pop world.
Having gotten away with this travesty
of musicality, and like our very own Screaming Lord Sutch (passim) Tiny Tim used
his slebrity and took a punt at politics endeavouring to gain the post of Mayor
of New York on this day in 1989. Trouble was, his fame, as with the fame of
many speciality acts, was short lived and his attempt at politics was a fairly
futile one. I quote him directly, “I am intoxicated with fame and all its
trappings”, and one thing is for sure, he had to be, pissed on fame that is. To
enter the 60’s musical arena with a ukulele and squeaky voice when most bands
sported speaker stacks the size of Wiltshire, amp volume settings that were at
a level fit to raise Lazarus, were stuffed to the gunnels with guitar wielding
showmen with hair and egos to match and fronted by vocalists who screamed their
vocals into ranks of SM58's, shows a level of chutzpah that deserved at least some
recognition; which, up to a point, he got. A trouper to the end it was on stage
at a ukulele festival (gosh, I wanna go there; you?) that he suffered his second
heart attack (you surprised) from which he never recovered.
On a personal note, I've always
believed that the difference between a mouse and a ukulele is that no one blubs when you stamp on a ukulele.
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