The man who scored some of the most iconic soundtracks in movie history has died aged 77. John Barry whose scores were as famous as the films themselves passed away yesterday. For nearly 50 years, he produced music which will stand the test of time including the James Bond Theme, Goldfinger, From Russia With Love and You Only Live Twice. His association with the James Bond soundtracks will always overshadow his other work on the soundtracks for Born Free, Dances With Wolves and Out Of Africa. And not forgetting the rather brilliant theme tune for The Persuaders. Tributes have been pouring in today for John Barry from York, a musical genius whose talent and status as numero uno in the musical scores will never be equalled. From all the tributes I read today, I think Comedienne Sue Perkins sums his passing the best... 'RIP John Barry - a man who made the world sound sexy for while'.
Monday, 31 January 2011
Sunday, 30 January 2011
KIKI DEE MASTERCLASS...
If there could be any talent wished upon me, I'd love to be able to play a musical instrument and I'd love to be able to sing. And if I could sing like anyone, undoubtedly it would be to sing like Kiki Dee (closely followed by Dusty Springfield). Kiki Dee will always be remembered for her biggest hit in 1976 duetting with Elton John on 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart'. I always thought she looked a little like a children's tv presenter during that video when she wore those ill-advised dungarees. But there was always a bit more to Kiki Dee than being Elton's sidekick. Check out 'Amoureuse' for a sensationally sung ballad. The mighty Motown certainly knew talent when they saw it - signing Kiki Dee as the first white female to their label.
Kiki, who originally hailed from Bradford as plainly named Pauline Matthews actually started out as Dusty Springfield's backing singer. Whilst Dusty's career hit the heady heights due in part to her voice being suited completely to the excellence of Burt Bacharach's songwriting, Kiki Dee never really hit the big time and she remained somewhat underrated.
And check out the video of 'I've Got The Music In Me'. As someone commented on You Tube, half a century run of American Idol or X Factor wouldn't come close to finding this kind of talent. Kiki you were (and probably still are) the Manchester United of the Premiership. Rhianna? Lady Ga Ga? - Fleetwood Town of the Blue Square Conference League I'm afraid.
EYE, EYE...
It's day two in the Fishfingerbutty house, and FFB has a dodgy eye. I woke up yesterday with that sinking feeling of all was not well in the ocular department. Call it intuition, but a crusty, stuck together and puffy eye had my suspicions raised. A planned day out with friends with cameras in hand, and a good walk around Morecambe bay following by a pub lunch had to be postponed as the freezing conditions were not really conducive to a dodgy eye. Feeling a little miserable and slightly under the weather, I headed back to bed where I slept for another 5 hours before another kind mate came and picked me up and we schlepped down to the NHS walk-in centre. We are very lucky in Blackpool to have a state-of-the-art and very new walk-in-centre where you will be seen by nurses and doctors almost straightway 24 hours a day. It's taken a huge strain of the A&E department at our local hospital, not to mention having to wait for a GP appointment. Unfortunately, yesterday afternoon was very, very busy and there was about a 40 minute wait before I got to see a nurse. Forty minutes sat with the great unwashed and what seemed like a whole nursery full of Tiffany-Jade's and Regan's screaming was just about enough before thoughts of serious self-harm set in. I had a quick check over and a torch shone into my eye at various angles before Nurse Jackie told me I had a chalazion. A what?? Apparently it's a cyst on the inner eyelid which will go with the help of very hot compresses (to aid their bursting - blurrrhgh) and some ointment. Jackie also recommended I sleep in an upright position to avoid my eye swelling up and sticking again. Mmmm.. not sure about that one. Anyway, after a good night's sleep (in prone position), I have woken up with an eye not too dissimilar to a cross between Lisa 'Left Eye' Lopez and Gabrielle singing 'Dreams' but without the eyepatch. It's grim, but the hot compress is at ready....
ADAM M61 BOUND?....
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
NICE TO SEE YOU...NOT
With half an eye on tonight's National Television Awards and finding it quite entertaining, the night suddenly came to an abrupt end when Bruce Forsyth gained a special recognition award. The fawning and sycophantic tributes from the showbiz luvvies prior to the old hoofer getting up to receive his award was simply vomit-inducing. Strictly Come Dancing (in my top 3 favourite tv programmes) has to be sky+'d now so that I can fast forward through Bruce's dancing (sorry, make that shuffling his feet whilst holding up his trouser legs) and his ad-libs which are generally stuttered through and are, to be honest, puerile. For goodness sake Brucie, give in to the vanity and get some glasses so that you can actually read the autocue. Yes, I know he's a gentleman in his 80's and he has had a long, long career in the business that is show, but how much longer do we have to put up with 'nice to see you, to see you...nice'?
Brucie.. here's an impassioned plea from a tv viewer who is losing patience with the almost daily calls for your receipt of a knighthood and the occasional and rather delusional plea calling for sainthood.. Please retire gracefully and soon. Go play golf and live a happy and peaceful life in Wentworth with your lovely and patient wife. Hang up the ginger toupee and put the catchphrases in cold storage and retire with some dignity. But most of all, a frantic plea to Tess Daly et al to stop asking for Mr Showbiz to become Sir Showbiz. That would just be too much to bear....
RIP MRS TILLER GIRL...
Sad day today with the funeral of a lady who meant a lot to my family. She was my brother's mother-in-law and grannie to my lovely (and very tall) nephew. This lady had a sad end to her life, but boy oh boy she packed a fair bit in to her years. She was a classically trained ballet dancer and then became part of the famous Tiller Girls dance dance troupe. I'd question her relentlessly about her dancing at the London Palladium and in front of King George VI on the Royal Variety Performance but she would always play it down and never show off about it. She performed on stage with some of the biggest names in showbiz and I'd yearn for celebrity gossip on Shirley Bassey (who she knew) but would she spill? Would she buxton. She also did lots of charity work and received congratulatory letters from Lady Clementine Churchill, but rather than talk about this during our many, many christmas day meals together, would instead be happy to ask after everyone else and what they were up to. Her and I would sit next to each other and chat over the turkey dinner and share a glass of wine, a few filthy jokes and some salty language which she absolutely loved. One christmas lunch she passed me some roast potatoes and asked very politely how many I'd like and with a straight face I replied 'erm...14 please'. This absolutely cracked her up and became a standing joke between us for many meals to come. Our family are quite renowned for their parties with much dancing and exuberance which suited B's flamboyant character so well. After much champagne and gin & tonic flowing, the music would always end up with Frankie singing 'New York, New York' where B would showcase her Tiller Girl talents that put all the younger women to shame. Her finale would be a screaming high kick followed by the splits with arms extended and to much applause. When she did it with a fag in one hand and a still full glass of gin and tonic in the other, the cheering crowd went doubly wild. Blimey that lady had good legs matched with the suppleness of a Ukranian gymnast.
My sister-in-law will miss her mum terribly and so will the rest of us. There will be a big empty space next to me at next year's christmas day meal. But I will always listen to New York, New York with a big smile on my face and remember B with huge fondness...
LAIRY LYTHAM LADETTES....
Last night's Blackpool v Manchester United match was just too tantilising to miss so my football-mad buddy Vic and I arranged to meet up after work for a meal and some pub footy. We met up in posh Lytham St Annes and had a great meal before heading over to the Ship and Royal which by 7pm was full to the rafters of tangerine-shirted footy fans. I'd forgotten how great pub football really is. Years ago it was small screen in the vaults and you were lucky if you hear any of the commentary. Nowadays, selected pubs have several projector style screens with surround sound and if you're really lucky, Sky very kindly broadcast some of the matches in 3D. It's like being in a Buddy Holly convention - only everyone's drunk.
Don't ask me how, but Vic and I managed to get right to the front, and leaning on the bar like a couple of ladettes and drinks in hand, we settled ourselves in for ringside viewing. The match started and suddenly Blackpool scored, and then they scored again. The pub erupted, drinks flew all over the place and people began hugging. Now bear with me here because this might seem a bit strange. I absolutely love Blackpool FC and how well they've done this season. Their presence in the premier league has been outstanding and fully deserved. Vic and I travelled to Wembley and saw them win the play-offs and no-one cheered harder than us two that hot and barmy May afternoon. But last night, when my home club scored against Manchester United and made them look very ordinary, it hurt like mad. My head tells me my loyalty is to my beloved Blackpool, but my heart belongs to Old Trafford. I received a million texts from mates reminding me just how crap United were and how the mighty Blackpool were killing them at Bloomfield Road and I had to agree. Then suddenly the second half started and United scored, scored again, then stole it at the end with a Berbatov winner. The pub went crazy and I went quiet. Sad for Blackpool that they made it such a great match and nearly won it, but secretly delighted United got through and are five points clear at the top of the Prem.
And as for pub football... Love it and can't wait for the next Euro championship and England's participation and ultimate downfall in the penalty shoot-outs. Now that's enough to drive you to alcohol..
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