I’m back on The Pod Delusion podcast this week. Or rather, my nationality-non-specific alter ego Professor Wilhelm Howells is on, explaining, in a manner of speaking, what the Large Hadron Collider is and how it works. You can listen to this week’s episode on the Pod Delusion website; by subscribing on iTunes; by downloading the MP3; or by using the player below. My bit is 25 minutes 49 seconds in, but you should, of course, listen to the whole half hour show.
I think I also neglected to plug my previous two appearances, so: I did a piece about astrology at the end of October in episode 7, and I guest edited episode 5.
I might be overstating the case, but only slightly. Ward & White’s Karaoke Circus wasn’t world peace, winning the lottery or swimming with dolphins (I have no desire to swim with dolphins), but it was pretty damn good and I’m still smiling. (Or at least I was when I started writing this post on Friday. Had some links to track down before publishing it so it’s, erm, a bit late.)
OK, from the beginning. Karaoke Circus is so called, host Martin White explained, because it features amateurs singing songs with a clown on stage. There are, though, some key differences from your average karaoke night. Most of the singers are professional comedians, there’s a live band rather than a recorded backing track and the lyrics are on paper. (This is taking karaoke back to its roots in ancient Greece, of course, when they didn’t have TVs.)
The house band comprise Martin on keyboards, David Reed from The Penny Dreadfuls on drums, Danielle Ward on bass and “Foz” Foster on guitar. Foz was the guitarist with David Devant & His Spirit Wife, a band I saw live four times back in my youth. At one point, Foz casually played the intro to Ballroom – one of many highlights of the evening.
As well as the comedians, there are six open mic spots for members of the audience to compete for a “good” prize and the performers are judged by Daniel Maier and The Baron (pictured here).
On Thursday night, Karaoke Circus returned – after shows at the 100 Club, the Edinburgh Fringe and the Latitude Festival – to its home at The Albany. It opened with a song from Foz (on uke) and The Baron, before getting under way with one of the open mic spots – a guy called Nick, winner of the very first Karaoke Circus, who performed Talking Heads’ Psycho Killer.
The first of the comedians to take the stage was Josie Long who carried off a very respectable cover of Sinead O’Connor Nothing Compares 2 U. Despite my responsibility as a geek to document every aspect of the night, I’m going to stop myself listing every singer and song, but highlights included:
Richard Herring’s Orgasm Addict (watch on YouTube) – not a song I’d heard before but a rather annoying earworm today
Jeremy Hardy’s Don’t You Want Me – he even brought along backing singers to help
Robin Ince’s There She Goes, My Beautiful World, a Nick Cave song I’d again never heard of and really rather like – here’s the Spotify link
Dave Gorman’s post-Song 2 stage dive – once all necessary safety precautions had been put in place, of course. I imagine this is the only time that I’ll find Dave Gorman on the floor at my feet.
Two performances rightly won standing ovations. Surprise guest of the evening was Jessica Hynes, off of Spaced and Doctor Who. The crowd (including me) went wild as soon as she was announced and she proceeded to sing Ain’t Now Way brilliantly – as Richard Herring put it, she cheated by “using talent”.
The other brilliant act was Chris Addison’s rendition of Common People – and I mean rendition in the good, singing way: he didn’t beat it over the head and transport it against its will to a secret prison in Eastern Europe. It was a deserved headline for the night, the crowd singing along and Chris passing the time in the instrumental by throwing packets of Super Noodles to the common people of the audience.
And if all that wasn’t enough to make the evening fantastic (from my perspective at least), I also got to sing. I was being indecisive in trying to pick a song to sign up for before the show so Martin told me to put my name down for all of them – because at least then he knew every song would be taken. I was rewarded with the last open slot and Take That’s Back for Good, complete with string section.
Once on stage, I was sufficiently nervous that my hand holding the lyric sheet was visibly shaking. Looking over the first line of the song, I realised couldn’t remember how it started. But I got it roughly right, I think, and once we reached the middle of the song, I was really enjoying myself, clambering around for the notes I couldn’t quite reach (in a touch of Gary Barlow-like authenticity, I’ll claim) and belting out a bit more the ones I could. The audience provided the backing vocals during the chorus and were supportive to all the acts, which helped a lot. It was great singing with a live band for the first time ever – and cool to have some of my favourite comics forced to listen. A fantastic experience and a privilege.
And as if that wasn’t enough, it was also lovely to see Anna and Simone again, and to meet for the first time twitter followees Paul and Kate. Congratulations to fellow audience member Tim, who deservedly won the good prize for his performance of It Must Be Love (the Madness version).
Last night, I went to Thom‘s to record my second guest appearance on the thomyk podcast. I was standing in for Michael Reeve, who’s gallivanting around Asia.
We discussed such diverse issues as WeightWatchers, Boyzone, Trafigura, mints and the iPhone. You can listen on the embedded player here:
I was sad to hear yesterday that Barry Letts, erstwhile producer of 70s Doctor Who, has died at the age of 84. I met him once, at a convention in 1994, when he appeared on stage with Terence Dicks, the other half of their regular double act. He seemed a lovely man and was a great ambassador for the show. R.I.P., Barry – this song’s for you. I’m sorry it’s out of focus but I recorded it as live.
You can also watch it on YouTube and read the lyrics online here. You’ll notice I forgot to mention Sarah Jane Smith. Barry Letts was producer when she became the Doctor’s companion – without him, there would be no Sarah Jane Adventures.
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