Musical Youth : Snooker Loopy

Chas & Dave - Snooker Loopy

Snooker, while still shown on television today, probably had its peak in the mid 80s. The 1985 world championship final between Steve Davis and Dennis Taylor went to the last ball of the last frame. Taylor won, the game finished well after midnight, with 18.5 million people watching. On BBC2!

Dave Lee Travis' "Give Us A Break" quiz on Radio 1 probably helped too. (I'm pretty sure that the quiz machine based on this was the very first that I played on.)

It's a complaint that there are fewer personalities now to hold the public interest, despite the efforts to give players unwieldy nicknames such as "The Jester from Leicester" and "The Wizard of Wishaw". Of course, Steve Davis always seemed to be an emotionless, potting robot - a notion long-since disproved. (His appearance in "The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Todd Margaret" was a joy.)

The idea of snooker being a lark was reinforced by "The Matchroom Mob" - players all managed by Barry Hearn's Matchroom Sport.

So you have a traditional pub 'sport' and want to record a novelty single. Who do you call? Why, the finest exponents of rockney, Chas & Dave! They're like The Wurzels of London's East End. They also had form with sport-related songs, having already done two for Tottenham Hotspurs cup runs in 1981 and 1982.

And so, in time for the 1986 world championship, "Snooker Loopy" was recorded. Several of the Matchroom players had a couple of lines dedicated to them, which (I've just realised) brings to mind Monty Python's "Bruce's Philosophers Song". Sometimes the player himself would provide a little vocal.

Then the chorus:

Snooker loopy nuts are we
Me and him and them and me

Try singing it like a medieval madrigal and it improves slightly. (Replace Chas' piano with a lute and you have a lost classic of the middle ages.)

The full lyrics are here if you need to know the rest. Yes, the BBC website.

The B-side was called "Wallop! (Snookered)". I remember only the bridge to the chorus, which had the most Cockney pronunciation of "He's gone down" - "eeeez gaaahn daaahn".

The only other thing I remember about the single is that it had all the results for the 1986 World Championship printed on the reverse of the sleeve. Joe Johnson won, if you're interested.

The Grey Singles Box of Dubious Quality

Growing up, I had a grey record box for my 7 inch vinyl singles. My sister, Nicola, had a similar one, which was red.

My Mum and Dad's albums were in the big record box downstairs. Abba, Frankie Valli, Elvis. Were there any Beatles or Stones album? Nostalgic TV shows which have shown pristine copies of Sgt Pepper have messed with my mind... but didn't we have a copy? Not that we ever listened to it.

There was also a "Junior Choice" compilation. The Wombles, Captain Beaky, Matchstick Men and Matchstalk Cats and Dogs and plenty more that escape me. (Runs to internet ... no, can't find anything.)

Most of their singles were stacked in a cupboard, sometimes brought out for our curiosity. "Let's Go To Jersey" being the strangest, "Jimmy Mack"/"Third Finger Left Hand" one of the best. However, "Dead Ringer For Love" lived in one of our record boxes. Looking at the release date (November 1981) I suspect my Dad bought it, unless it was a second birthday present for my sister...

With the passing of time, I can't properly remember all of the singles I owned. As I've compiled my confessional list, some may have belonged to Nicola. She definitely had better taste than me. She owned Frankie Goes To Hollywood's "The Power of Love". She bought The Housemartins' "Caravan of Love" - and me being the long-time Paul Heaton fan.

I know many had plain paper sleeves, which doesn't help my failing faculties. One of these definitely had an oversized centre hole, which was certainly an Adam Ant single. But which one? Not "Apollo 9" because that had the picture sleeve. (Ant sporting unnecessary plasters, years before Robbie Fowler was doing so.) "Goody Two Shoes"? I don't know.

I know there were also some dodgy rock singles (Whitesnake!) in there, which I think came from my cousin.

However, my own purchases were far worse. I can see myself waking up one morning, having recalled another terrible single. I'll let you know when I do.

Tune of the day

I've been humming bits from this all day. I do not know why.

The Proclaimers - as recommended by former Doctor Who (and their fellow Scotsman) David Tennant.

Enjoy!

Wikipedia is great! [citation needed]

Wikipedia will soon be eleven years old. It was founded on January 15, 2001 and since then has grown to be the primary source of material for lazy journalists.

The scope of articles is phenomenal, if disturbing. Alongside the topics you would expect from an encyclopedia - the natural world, history and so on - are the stranger peccadilloes of the Internet. Nothing is of too little importance, despite the attempts of editors to remove some of the chaff.

You can tell that the site has only been active for the last decade, and that some contributors have too much time on their hands, by looking any article on a living person.

Earlier today, I read the article about Adam Ant, for a "Musical Youth" post to come. The parts covering his initial tentative fame and early 80s heyday are detail enough, with detail comparable to that you might expect from a general history of British music. It also covers his move to America, acting roles and some further musical work. This neatly brings his story to the early 2000s, and Wikipedia.

The space devoted to his life since then is equivalent to that covering everything before.

His court appearance and sectioning are documented, as you might expect. The more recent activity is not. It is beyond meticulous, in the realm of obsessive.  The section for his 2011 UK tour is exhaustively detailed - split into two parts - with no gig review too minor to be excluded.

If newspapers are the first draft of history, Wikipedia may be the rough cut.

Musical youth

"If music be the food of love, play on."

He had a way with words, Shakespeare.

Like most people, music is something I enjoy. I have bought hundreds of CDs, been to dozens of gigs and a few festivals, written terrible lyrics that could have become awful songs, although never really had notions of being a performer. I bought, and still buy, music magazines.

I was born in 1977, Silver Jubilee year and about a month before the Sex Pistols were being held off number one by Rod Stewart and scurrilous rumours of chart fixing.

My childhood of the 1980s: the time of New Romantic, New Wave, heck even Wham! ...

... except it wasn't.

I did watch Top of the Pops when growing up ( "It's Thursday! It's 7 o'clock!") but can remember none of those iconic or awful - or both at the same time - performances.

My young taste in music was, frankly, terrible. (But is it not the same with any child?) Any singles I bought would be picked up in Morrison's supermarket with the weekly shopping. Woolworth's was a foreign land. HMV, Virgin, Our Price - these meant nothing to me. WH Smith may have prompted some curiosity, but I was more interested in the latest copy of Electron User or the computer games.

It wasn't until my first Saturday job much later that I began to expand my horizons. University broadened them further, bolstered by grant and student loan. I'll talk about my favourite discoveries separately.

But for now, and as I recall them from my ageing brain, I'm going to confess to the horrors I purchased with my pocket money. It might not be pretty.