Happy 50th Birthday Timbo!

I hate Karaoke! 

I always resist the call at parties. 

I'm supposed to be a singer right?

I'm not really a 'singer' though am I?

I'm a songwriter who sings his own songs in the controlled environment of a studio... but...

"Come on Trev, show us how it's done!" comes the inevitable call.

You can't win, folk expect and, I suspect, secretly bate their breath in the hope of a car crash.

So, I always resist.

Except... on Saturday night it was my good mate Tim Westall's 50th birthday.

He'd reformed his school punk band 'The X Men' especially for the occasion.
Tim, Tim, Stu and ringer, 'Plinky Plonky Paul'.

I somehow ended up playing keyboards on The Specials' 'Message to You Rudy' as 'Plinky Plonky' needed to do that trombone bit. He did it very well, and I kind of bluffed my way through the song; there were only 3 chords and it was in the key of 'C'. No black notes to bother...

The X Men trundled splendidly through a zestful set with muscularity and no little affection for their beloved Sex Pistols, Damned, Vibrators et al. Great fun as these successful businessmen rolled up their sleeves, rolled back the years and rallied against Thatcher and 'the system'. Anarchy indeed! Tim sprayed out some fine riffs, gurning, grinning; garrulously shooting from the hip with his sunburst Les Paul. Drummer Tim (shipped in from Norway) thumped away with grey abandon, making a glorious, orgiastic, organic din with his rubber drums, whilst singer and bassist Stu came over like a holy union of Paul Simonon and Eric Morcambe as he spread his legs wide and formed a solid foundation in that bopping basement, playing all the right notes but not necessarily in the right order. The high spot was a gusty, gutsy encore of The Stranglers' 'No More Heroes', which The X Men grabbed by the throat and dutifully... strangled; Plinky Plonky's airy arpeggios adding an oddly lofty musicality to the dynamic dirge. It was lovely to glimpse old firm friends re-engaging with the folk and folly that they'd forgotten they loved. 
I think we'll call it 'Joy!' 
I'd have them at The Hat Club but I fear that we'd have to sand bag the place to protect us from the neighbors....

Next up was the dreaded Karaoke.

Tim dragged his lovely wife Donna on stage and they sweetly mugged their way through 'You're the One that I Want'; charming as John and Olivia. 

Then came the call. 
I resisted as best I could but... Tim presented me with a lyric sheet for The Kinks' 'Lola' in an unfeasible font with tiny unreadable text and... we were off. 

I thought I knew the song. 

Do you? 

Go on, give us the tune.
And the lyric then? 

Not so easily rendered or remembered eh? 

"I met her in a club down in old Soho..." and then, nothing. 

A blank. 

So I let Tim lead and decided that I'd just 'guest star' and flesh out the chorus. 

Easy. 

Sorted. 

But could I spell 'Lola'? 

Could I buggery! 

It's L  O  L  A. 

LOLA! right? 

I did 'lilo', 'Loulou', 'lala'. 
Anything but 'Lola'. 
Tim then suggested 'Waterloo Sunset'.
'Dirty old river...' and then... nothing; a blank.
Tim avoided eye contact and pulled the plug.

I shuffled off stage to tumbleweed and bewildered whisperings from a nonplussed audience. 

Not for the first time, but definitely the last. 

Di took my hand and sympathetically whispered "you were rubbish!"

She did however profess the X Men as 'brilliant'.

Here are some clips of the band's performance. 

Something for you to rate her judgement of me by...