I am frankly bemused that Leo Sayer has made it to the top of the charts. I can vaguely remember him from the seventies; a bubble permed nerd in ridiculous braces who jigged about like an imbecile while performing his cheesecake pop.
The decade that taste forgot produced some risible acts that, bafflingly, managed to achieve huge success here and in the United States. After the decade that produced the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, we came up with the Bay City Rollers and Leo Sayer.
Talk about the sublime to the ridiculous.
If Leo is all the rage with todays teenyboppers I will feel justified in digging my spacehopper and tartan flares out of the attic. I can sit on a huge beanbag, smoke a giant spliff, and play ‘Shang a Lang’ on a pair of massive seventies headphones. I can, like, get with the kids, and scoot about on a Chopper bicycle.
Leo’s success will no doubt be of interest to Wyndham the Triffid, who recently informed us that when he grows his hair he is the spitting image of the grinning tosser. I say go for it Wyndham. Get a cheesecloth shirt and some braces and head down to your local pub for the Karaoke.
Your day has obviously come.
12 comments:
I happened to listen to some of the charts yesterday for the first time in years. It seemed to be a mix of shout loud stuff (Arctic Monkeys and the like), whinging girls going on about "You dissin' me and ma man", some hip hop stuff "You dissin' me and dat wid ma big gun, fool fucker!" and like disco revival stuff from Madonna (Sorry, Hung up) and that Leo Sayer thing.
Bloody hell. I know I live my life, hermetically sealed from the trappings of the modern celeb culture and sometimes I feel that I must be missing out on genuine new talent (Arctic Monkeys aren't my cuppa, but they are good, I like the way they fit the vocals in so very cleverly with the rhythm of their songs). But listenting to the charts in general, it just confirms that I'm not missing out on much at all.
Of course, my boob tube-wearing days are numbered because of my impending mutiliation. Then again, if I wore a boob tube, it'd just look like a sort of floppy bandage around my tummy - my boobs hit the floor long ago.
There is nothing original left in pop music. I suppose it was always a limited form.
The Arctic Rolls are good, but they ain't the Jam. I suppose 17 year olds think differently.
I stick to my melodic folk/pop sounds of Tori Amos and the like. Can't go wrong really.
Who the hell are Rod, Jane and Freddy?
Are they something to with Rainbow?
Or Magpie?
I fancied Jane.
It was them dungarees she wore did it.
The dungaree's should have told you to beware.
Sniffy in a boob tube? Dear gawd.
Let's get something straight. I never said I was the spitting image of Leo Sayer. I said I had big hair like Leo Sayer.
Now if you put Leo's hair on George Clooney's head, then you'd be in the fucking ballpark. Right?
don't tell me he's popular again? really? what is wrong with today's youth.
Seems that poor Wyndham is a bit miffed garfer. You've obviously underestimated his degree of gorgeousness. :-)
p.s. thanks a hell of a lot for the earworm. Now I'll have that loser's voice in my head for the rest of the day!
No offence meant Wyndham!
Looking like Leo Sayer would be enough to have anyone contemplating suicide.
Rod Jane & Freddy all in bed together singing is one of the lastin g memories from my childhood.
kids today just have to see vast amounts of nakedness in their music videos, but we actually had threesomes in bed together;-)
No wonder we're all screwed up:-)
Yes, group sex for the under fives.
Nothing like it.
Post a Comment