Tiffs about the Smiths
The last show was precorded "Hawaii style" with Russell in Manchester (surrounded by adoring fans) and myself and Matt in London (surrounded by....er...a slightly less adoring Mikey). Considering that we'd managed several trans-continental transmissions in the past, you would've thought that negotiating of the North/South UK divide would've been a simplistic piece of pistachio.....wouldn't it?
Saturday afternoon: we were all ready to roll and rearing to go, the music had been lined up, the mic-checks had been done and the audience were in position, standby for action. Just before we were about to commence, Russell requested that we play "Lucky Lisp" by Morrissey as one of the songs for the show. Unfortunately it wasn't in the tracklistings on the system and to procure it would've required someone frantically running down to the nearest music store, so Matt and I just told him to let it slide and just get on with the pre-record.
Forgetting how big a "die-hard Morrissey-extremist" Russell is, this comment resulted in him throwing a little wobbly about music (and admittedly, us all joining in). It was a bit like three teenagers having an argument over who their favourite group is, except that we weren't in a dimly lit messy upstairs bedroom and also the possibility of somebody's mum coming in to break it all up was highly unlikely!
Eventually the song was found (one of the Manchester audience members had it on her iPod), it was loaded into the system and everybody calmed down. During the recording, it was actually quite funny to hear Russell and Matt giving each other little subliminal digs on-air, they even brought in a piano to add to the verbal sparring. By the end of the show we all had a laugh about it, I guess that the moral of the story is... Don't mock the Morrissey (...or the Metallica....or the Ice Cube! :)
A Letter to the Better
Place a stamp on a letter and post it to the heavens,
Seal it with a wish, just enough for good measure,
For it's moments like this that you'll treasure, despite the bad weather,
Connecting the North to the South with a little Morrissey to make it better,
Write a note to your MP or PM number 10 to see,
Matt Morgan's "Secret Jedi Tunnels" where Russell's goat skulls with the diamonds be,
And we finally see, the intricate workings of a honey bee,
Or the slaying of piano playing with an ever-wailing cockney theme,
Put a message in a bottle and cast it among the waves,
We'd jump over candlesticks quick to hear a quartet of minges singing in the rain!
But a noble stand HAS to be made, for the revolution to pave a way,
So queue up outside the ivory towers to watch us give the bling away!
It was my iPod!
Didn't even get a thank you from Russell. Disgraceful.
Was a really funny show, being there made it even better, although I was really disappointed that I didn't get to see you and Matt!
Love Zoe xxxxx
hilarious show guys. I wish that i'd heard you all arguing lol. just listened to thepodcast and i can hear matt making fun of you doing a morissy documentry. that must of ruffled your feathers even more!
Hi Russell
I have listened to your show on and off since you started. I have regularly listened to Radio 2 on a Saturday night for some time.
I note that the BBC advertise your show as a mixture of comedy and music. I have heard the tracks that you play, fair enough, but as yet have found liitle humour in the content of your programme.
I am looking for guidance Russell as to how best to appreciate your brand of humour. I enjoy Radio 2 on a Saturday night but long for Bob Harris to start at ten o'clock.
Do I look for an alternative until eleven or persevere with you?
What do you think?
My little boy is at summer camp this week and back tommorrow. Its been so strange,wandering around without him. I,v managed to do things girlies like to do,that I perhaps wouldnt be able to do if he were with me. So I,v had a good old trawl through the sales.
It can get a bit confrontational when you,re in a tiny weeny bit of a grouchy mood. Today when I first embarked on the shopping marathon, the clothes were all stacked, rail upon rail. Bulging at the seams,bits and bobs strewn on the floor. I hadnt quite rested into the vacant auto pilot zone,so was a bit on edge. Not a good state of mind for the sales. I felt like people were lingering in the isles to annoy me. Lingering too long for the whole retail therapy to start to kick in. There was a bit of argy bargy, and being in the mode of zero tolerance, to let the weaseling on my part begin, I shouted,"MOVE!" in my mind. Without making any eye contact with the perpetraitors of course. Loud growling was eminating from inside my head.
It didnt help that it was raining outside again today. So musical raincoats.
As I was walking to another part of the shops through the wind and rain,I found meself in the path of an older woman holding her clear plastic spotted packable rain hat down over her face as if her life depended on it. I had to do a double take as I scurried past because as I was directly infront of her she was busy shouting,"Out of my WAY, you PEOPLE!'
I couldnt take it to heart. She was obviously the next step down the road of where I had been dwelling in my mind. Verballising her annoyance. It must have felt quite liberating.
When I got up this morning and put the radio on, there were some lovely songs bieng played.
Radio must be a massivly sublime part of so many peoples lives. I grew up with it on all day long. A freindly voice keeping you company. My mum had an active relationship with it. It would sometimes be punctuated with hisses, in impoortant bits of the news. Mum had her pet hate presenters, thankfully I cant remember at which dooor her preferences and distain lay.
Radio is part of the fabric of what it means to be at home. Sensitively chosen songs, paving the way for a happy life with the edges softened. Quirky, soothing humerous farmiliar voices.
After I had had my coffee and toast,I was about to go upstairs when the Fats Dominoe song came on called,"Walking to New Orleans."
As I was listening to the lazy easy melody, my mind was drawn to the images of the catastrophic submersion of New Orleans, as it became water logged. For days there were images of bodies floating and the news reporters were saying,"Still, there is no help." The shock of a forgotten society.
My freind was holidaying in a nearby state at the time, the news stories reported something quite different there.
Here in England, the news was just amazement that lives were bieng lost and no emergency services were to be seen. There were marked numbers of indiginous New Orleans boys out of town, fighting to "SAVE" their country in Iraq.
I cant imagine what they must have thought as their rellies drowned in unthinkable circumstances.
Anyway I wrote a poem this morning, to commemorate the devistation in New Orleans.
New Orleans
The place that went against the flow.
You were found the water line, below.
Born in your heart a dignnity that
had its roots in belonging, owning,comfortably existing.
At last away from the fighting,
to be part of a world that spurned your ethnic
writing.
New Orleans, what does your name cunjure up?
Smells of cooking,the smiling welcome of a freindly face.
Lay down your hat and slowen your pace.
Hang up your boots outside the midday glare.
On the porch , rest assured to sit and stare.
We're in it together no need to care.
You don't need protection from a world thats unfair.
New Orleans, your roots go down deeper than this.
All is destroyed, but doesn't cease to exist.
The memories are a powerful witness.
Though all is gone not all is forgotten.
The driftwood has settled, its all grey and rotten.
A far cry from fields ,picking cotton.
What did we do to be so blighted?
Were we foolish, naive, far sighted.
To think we were safe from the chaos of life.
Were we chosen to lead the pathways of strife.
Who would know of this ill fated demise?
Hope of trust,bieng kept alive.
Set to float in humiliation.
Scurged for the African incarnation?
Why on these wicked things must we stare.
Who it's ugly legacy can bare?
A curse on creed and pigmentation?
When terror strikes, we produce the scroll, of sadness where we have an etched list.
Would not an element of earth reach out
Leaving the trail of consumation.
Can nature forget extermination?
The catalogue of misfortune,like an uninvited, un lanced cyst.
Its not too late, the waves of the storm
Will give you reprise.
Inhabited by warmth and lifes journey end
Is of no surprise.
For compassion we will wait no longer.
Squeeze me with all your might
So I'm forced to exhale
Must let go,release,only a word to fail.
The wind of reason will make us stronger.
Our footprint enriches the world
Our heartbeat drums to the beat of the rythmm.
It was the road of perdition we were given.
We wil rise to the arms of the true place we belong
And the fragment of goodness will carry on.
The testimony of New Orleans is fixed in time.
You were the jewel in the crown,
Thats the bottom line.
Away from your past, is the trauma, the horror.
Who can bear to recall the suffering inflicted
On a name that floated away into debris and squallor.
New Orleans, you will live again,
The belief in yourself is stronger than you think.
Displacement may come,estrangment can be a
Strong deterrent.
But her spirit lives on in her children
Inherent.
The melting pot of good will, purpose,resignation
A good place to start a home in tranquility.
The aroma you can taste, you can see.
The sounds of a city emerging from scenes.
Speak into bieng for yourself, what is unseen,
A contract of kindness
Remake your history, an image of sublimeness.
With berievment, put to bed, the muted screams.
They were drowned in a void of powerful extreems.
Swallowed in error, transported back to a heady hub of inspiring dreams.
Now its time to move on
And hang on to the hope of what lies in the name of
New Orleans.
Its very important that no one takes the piss out of the poems people stick up on the RB web page. The poor contributors writin em probably thinks ther gunna change the world. You have to encourage early begginings. So button your lips yu incoherent wabbly lot of ditherin duces.
Some peoples idea of the revolution may lie in tyrying to express truth. Even if it makes no sence at all, we,ll humour em shall we?
well done zoe!!!!!! for having both the songs russell wanted!
haha! it was great to be in the pre-record, sat under that piano =]
would have been better if you, matt and the glorious mikey had been there too though
jojo
xxx
No, you seriously never should mock the Morrissey!! Good old Russ, for having such sublime taste in music!
Its so great to be able to see loads of clips of Russel on tour. Having not been able to make it to any of the shows I can satisfy myself looking at all the footage stored on u tube.
Did any one get any of the Bournemouth Pavilion. Can they put the meet and greet up on utube. I was able to get too that and would like to relive the moments through your clever cameras eyes. My mobile is a bog standard shell dog an bone widout any cameras on it. ITS BLIND!
Would av savoured the chgance to get some pictoral memorabilia!
One day wken I get one. I will probably only use it for sendin Stupid pics of me pullin faces and of my bum to me mate Kara. Mmmm best to stay blind. I like my lil phone coz it reminds me of captain Kirks transmitter device. Only if I say, "Beam me up" Nuffin appens. But wadyado! AY?
I was v wurrid when Rus an Mat took those erbal druggs!
V nawty. Slap on the wrist.
I took erbal sleep aid drugs once. The size of a biscuit and regurgetated a sort of cabbage taste an breath. Dont fink they worked.
I fink u shud get Micheal Winner on the show, so e can say ,"Calm Down DEAR CALM DOWN"
You should hear Steve Wrights impression of Micheal Winner, its SO funny.
Once e ad MW in the stude for an interview. He subconciously just started reeling off his impression. ALd Micky tried hard not to be affronted, he nearly walked out. It were SO funny. You should get a copy of that , Youd like it.
Ow did the party go at blokey from lil Britains house? AY?
I was well worried about Rusky, they were bayin fer is blood.
That Galliger fellow was very freatnin to Russ, whoo was doin a sterlin job of keepin all our spirits up. I fawt e wud get there and That lil Brit guy an Galiga would roast im on a spit.
He needs to be protected from real people who are celebrities, they might feel jealous of our boys prospects.
Hi bowiys!
If I dont get to an internet bar before tommorrow night, I just want to say. Looking forward to the show.
Dont take any herbal drugs.
I,ve missed you.
Hope you,ve had a good week.
Lets have another riot.
CAuse some waves baby.
Change the world!
Mmmmmmmm
?????
Cmon wadya got to lose.
Start a neverending giggle that will go like a mexican wave round this glorious globe.
I love you and like to feel linked in to you.
Big kissy, handsome men
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
xxxxxxxxxxx
The show was great on Saturday night!
I'm amazed at Russells mind, its a amazing. He, to me is a bit of a genius. So clever. I am fasinated with how his mind works, so unusual and spontanious.
You guys certainly stay busy don't you!
Blackpol aext week. That should be funny.
New York, then Frisco!
Unbelievable!
Now do be sure to film every thing.Do your new camera phones film? Just stick it on u tube. I glanced the other day at one girls writing, she said she had been up all night looking at films of Russell. We must just need infusions of you guys!
I really think that 122 pictures is a bit thin on the ground. We need a constant supply. It 's nice to watch you guys as you evolve. Call it a video and picture diary.
You have put a lovely collection together to go along with the song of Russ's; When I'm 64.
So keep us up to speed as you travel on.
I really hope the televised show went well.
Loadsa luv.
XX
I can,t find the blueberry bubbles comment. Keep clickin but it won,t come up.