Withnail And I

I've plumbed the depths of Netflix and Amazon, and consumed just about every Police procedural drama it has to offer.

Except the Scandinavian ones ... this might be a simplest redux, but all that chunky knitwear and staring out of windows just doesn't hook me.  And maybe this is a sign of my intellect, or inability to concentrate, but the sub-titles detract from the story for me.

And so I return to the stack of previously watched, and always enjoyed DVDs.  That cache of films that you shove on when you just need some comfort, and can recite the script along with the moving pictures.

And one such film is a relatively low budget offering from the mid-80s, which has assumed cult status, yet still has people saying "and what's so great about that then?"

If the greatness of a film is judged by it's quotability, then Withnail And I is up there with the best of them.

I get the impression that it is a bit of a Marmite film - those that like it tend to love it, quote it, and watch it fairly regularly. Those that dislike it (and you can only dislike something if you've actually seen it) really cannot see what the attraction is.  2 unemployed actors living in squalor get drunk a lot, and then go on holiday - big deal.

And it's not an easy sell (as that last sentence suggests ... but here goes

Written by Bruce Johnston, it is loosely (although he has never divulged how loosely?) based on his student days.

Set in 1969, Withnail and I tells the story of 2 out of work actors clinging to the notion that their big break is just round the corner, and so are content to stay in a dingy flat in Camden waiting for that time.

But how to fill the time?  Copious amounts of alcohol, greasy breakfasts, a walk in Regents Park and a scant refusal to clean up the flat.

Needing a break from this drudgery (or full schedule?), it's time to change the backdrop and secure Withnail's rich uncle's holiday cottage - a somewhat remote, cold, powerless building in the Lake District.
Woefully unprepared for life in the country, they bumble through until the arrival of Uncle Monty and his un-warranted advances.  Monty leaves with his tail between his legs, and then the pair are recalled to London as there is the offer of a stage play.
Withnail - who has no Driving License - decides to speed up the return by driving back as fast as he can, and is then arrested.

They arrive back at the flat to find Danny The Dealer espousing (*his own peculiar) politics:

"I don't advise a haircut, man. All hairdressers are in the employment of the government. Hair are your aerials. They pick up signals from the cosmos and transmit them directly into the brain. This is the reason bald-headed men are uptight."

 "We are 91 days from the end of this decade and there’s gonna be a lot of refugees."

"If you're hanging on to a rising balloon, you're presented with a difficult decision - let go before it's too late or hang on and keep getting higher, posing the question: how long can you keep a grip on the rope? They're selling hippie wigs in Woolworth's, man. The greatest decade in the history of mankind is over. And as Presuming Ed here has so consistently pointed out, we have failed to paint it black."

Danny : The joint I'm about to roll requires a craftsman. It can utilise up to 12 skins. It is called a Camberwell Carrot.

Marwood : It's impossible to use 12 papers on one joint.

Danny : It's impossible to make a Camberwell Carrot with anything less.

Withnail : Who says it's a Camberwell Carrot?

Danny : I do. I invented it in Camberwell, and it looks like a carrot.

Breaking this spaced outedness is Marwood's discovery of a letter informing the pair of their eviction.
He packs his bags, has one final walk (with a spaced and drunk) Withnail in Regents Park, and credits roll

(see, I told you it wasn't an easy sell)

But it's what happens between those (mundane?) plot points that make the film.

Yes it is highly quotable, some of the lines and situations could almost be Python-esque, but there is a darker under-current to it all, but is delivered by 2 characters that veer on the grotesgue (well ,one certainly does) but you can't help but root for them, and feel some of their anxiety.

The amount of alcohol consumed in the film gives rise to a Student Drinking Game where one must imbibe along with the film.

(from wikipedia)

There is a drinking game associated with the film. The game consists of keeping up, drink for drink, with each alcoholic substance consumed by Withnail over the course of the film.

All told, Withnail is shown drinking roughly ​9 1⁄2 glasses of red wine, one-half pint of cider (with ice in), one shot of lighter fluid (vinegar or overproof rum are common substitutes), ​2 1⁄2 measures of gin, 6 glasses of sherry, 13 drams of Scotch whisky and ​1⁄2 pint of ale.[49]

Already seen the film?  Watch it again

Intrigued by the film (despite my best efforts to knacker it)?  Give it a watch, and see which way the Marmite falls

And if all else fails, watch the trailer:

A New Beginning

 Other titles considered:

• The Times They Are A-Changing
• New Life
• Just Like Starting Over
• Fings Aint Wot They Used T'Be

What am I on about?

I started work 34 years ago this month - and I'm still with the same employer.

I started on a 4 Year Apprenticeship, did a year in the Inspection and Metrology Lab, a short stint in the Drawing Office, and then landed up as a Project Planner.  A return to learning saw me progress through Cost Engineering, Project Management, Commercial Management, and then I settled into Project Controls (basically, telling the Project Manager they are an idiot!).  And I've been in that world for last 25 years.

But now, at the age of 51, I have made the decision to leave the comfort zone behind and move to the Dark Side of IT - I will be administering and maintaining the Integrated Business System across Projects, Finance, Supply Chain,and Human Resources (Oracle Fusion, if you're interested.  Or even care).  The main focus is Projects, so it's still Project Controls per se, and I will bring with me the issues and failings of using the System at the coal-face.

And so I am now placing myself on a vertical learning curve with all the fun of remote working (for a little while longer at least) while my new colleagues have to get used to my unique, grumpy, sarcastic ways of doing things.
I admit to a little fear in this move, but what's the worst that can happen?

Will it prove to be the right decision?  Who knows, but Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained.

And, NO - I will not musically illustrate this post with Bucks Fizz 1986 post Coach crash comeback single (Mamba Seyra with knobs on!).

Instead I'll ask the question: when this lot lost their founding member, songwriter, and all round visionary, did they really believe that they would still be achieving relative success 40 years later?
(and why did every Radio 1 DJ of the time have a different way of pronouncing their name?)

Depeche Mode - New Life

Something Happened In The Summer of 1991

1991 was a relatively inoffensive year.

As far as the Singles Chart goes, the year was book-ended by Iron Maiden's "Bring Your Daughter (To The Slaughter)" - not one of their greatst songs - and "Bohemian Rhapsody" returning to the toppermost of the poppermost following Freddie Mecrury's shuffling of this mortal curl in November.
In between that there were a couple of novelty records ("Do The Bartman", Hale & Pace's "The Stonk), but the baulk of the year was taken up by Bryan Adams with that song and Cher Shoop Shoop-ing a lot.

Album-wise, Eurythmics clocked up 10 weeks with 'Greatest Hits', and Simply Red managed 4 with 'Stars'.
Away from the coffee table, REM hit the top (and international success) with 'Out Of Time', and perhaps surprisingly U2s 'Achtung Baby' which confirmed, re-inforced, and even enhanced their reputation as one of the biggest bands in the world never hit the summit (probably due to the Freddie situation which saw 'Greatest Hits II' take the top spot for the final 5 weeks of the year)

But away from the top of the commercial charts, there were some none too shabby albums to be had 

• Blur 'Leisure'
• Billy Bragg 'Don't Try This at Home'
• Carter USM '30 Something'
• Elvis Costello 'Mighty Like A Rose'
• Farm 'Spartacus'
• Jesus Jones 'Doubt'
• KLF 'The White Room'
• Levellers 'Levelling The Land'
• Kirst MacColl 'Electric Landlady'
• Massive Attack 'Blue Lines'
• My Bloody Valentine 'Loveless'
• Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers 'Into the Great Wide Open'
• Saw Doctors 'If This Is Rock and Roll, I Want My Old Job Back'
• Saint Etienne 'Foxbase Alpha'
• Teenage Fanclub 'Bandwagonesque'
• Tin Machine II (well, I like it)
• Wonderstuff 'Never Loved Elvis'

Special mention too for two compilations which reminded punters that the past is something that should be embraced.  As compilations go, these fall into the category of "not a duff tack on it"

• Specials - Singles
• Thin Lizzy - Dedication

But ... in amongst all this film-backed soppy number one singles, coffee table albums, and minority sellers that deserved better (see above), there was a moment in August and September which saw a string of albums which seemingly turned the music world on it's axis.
It was loud, it was brash, it found a ravenous audience, and most of it came from the US.

• July
• Mudhoney 'Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge'
• August
• Babes In Toyland 'To Mother'
• Metallica 'Metallica'
• Spin Doctors 'Pocket Full of Kryptonite'
• Pearl Jam 'Ten'
• September
• Hole 'Pretty on the Inside'
• Guns n' Roses 'Use Your Illusion I' and 'Use Your Illusion II'
• Primal Scream 'Screamadelica'
• Pixies 'Trompe le Monde'
• Soundgarden 'Badmotorfinger'
• Red Hot Chili Peppers 'Blood Sugar Sex Magik'
• Nirvana 'Nevermind'
• Status Quo 'Rock til You Drop'

If the 1960s (and arguably the early 80s) were termed the British Invasion, the surely those 3 months in 1991 is the US returning the favour.

Can you spot the ringer in that lot, the sole UK entry in the midst of the Grunge Invasion?

Primal Scream being un-Primal Scream like.  Unleashing their heady mix of dance beats, dub, acid house, funk and psychadelia - all mixed up with Stooges-lite/Stones-esque moments.  As much a product of the studio as it is a live band, Andrew Weatherall fashioned the bands demos into something that probably they, and indeed most of the listening public weren't expecting.  They'd never sounded like this before (really), and never sounded like this again.  And 'Screamadelica' remains one of their best, most acclaimed, albums.

It more than holds it's own against the US onslaught.
To consider a couple of them:

'Metallica' was the album that was smoothed by Bob Rock's production with the deliberate aim for commercial success.  Which was duly delivered.  The band sounds more direct, less complicated in construct, but (sadly) not as interesting or committed.

'Use Your Illusion' would've massively benefited by being shrunk to a single album.  Across 2 albums, there is just not enough variety in what they do to sustain

Pearl Jam's 'Ten' was more rock than grunge, but by associations of geography, the album became a key work of the genre.  Thing is, it is an "OK" album with a few undoubted high-points, but again feels limited in capability.

Spin Doctors 'Pocket Full of Kryptonite' was Grunge-Pop to be sold through quickly while the bandwagon was rolling.  There isn't too much redeeming or classic about this album (It's not bad - I listened to it again fairly recently - just not that great)

And now the sacred cow ...

Nirvana 'Nevermind' - If there is one record and one band that pretty much defines the genre and period, then it's this one.  A heady mixture of anger, angst, recycled riffs, energy, passion and attitude.
It is a great little album, but I'm just not convinced by the argument that it is one of the most important albums ever released.  Yes, I agree it's monumental and certainly created a shift in commercial attitudes and thinking, and indeed has a pervading influence.  But ... is it an absolute stone-cold classic?
I think it's gradual decline in those oft published "All Time Top 100 Best Ever Ever" lists is suggestive that maybe the content is not wall-to-wall stonkers, and that over-playing (and indeed over-mythologising) could be it's downfall too.

I know it looks like I've slaughtered 3 months of music, and it sounds like I haven't got a good word to say about any of them.  Not true, I like many of those albums, and still play them from time to time.  I'm just not convinced that they turned the music biz on it's head as the legend (and the rock press) would have us believe - and in the case of Metallica, Guns n' Roses and The Pixies, I'm not even convinced those are their best albums.
And of those clutch of albums that saw the light of day in those 100 days of Summer/Autumn 1991, the most returned to the turntable is ... Primal Scream 'Screamadelica'
(and that's not even my favourite of theirs)

Primal Scream - Loaded

Nirvana - Smells Like Teen Spirit

Weird Al Yankovic - Smells Like Nirvana

ZZ Top

In December 2019, I took the whole month off work.  All that accrued holiday that I was unable to use in a stupidly busy year was splurged on a whole month of doing "not a lot".
And as I wasn't working, the razor stayed in the drawer and slowly ran out of charge, whilst I developed a lustrous beard.
(for "lustrous", read "patchy, with bits of grey")
And then came New Year and time to return to work, I kept the facial hair, trimmed it down a bit, and returned to work for a full 3 months until Covid took hold, and I've been working at home ever since.

The beard is now part of me, and I'm not getting rid of it.  I have harboured ambitions of getting it to ZZ Top standards, but for one dissenting voice shouting "oh no you're bloody not!".

The most famous beard wearers in all of Rock Music (apart from the drummer who is ironically called Frank Beard), Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill and Frank Beard have been working together since 1969, with just a few solo sojourns in between.
(Are they the longest surviving band with no personnel changes?  They may very well be)
The early years of the band weren't as hirsute - Beards and tache, yes.  But not until 1979, and the release of 'Degüello' was the full length topiary that made their legend first seen.

My entry point to ZZ Top (like may others I'm sure) was 1983s 'Eliminator' - a bright, clean sounding but bluesy rocking slab of 12 tracks, which spawned 4 singles "Gimme All Your Lovin", "Sharp Dressed Man", "TV Dinners" and the lascivious "Legs".  The look of the band, and the visuals created by the album and it's sound sat them in prime position for MTV, and lap it up they did.
Although I didn't know it at the time, 'Eliminator' was another evolution of the bands desire to innovate and develop their sound - starting on the aforementioned 'Degüello - enhancing their basic 3 piece Bar Blues sound, using a range of synthesisers and studio technologies.

And what's so wrong with innovating and trying to stretch yourself?  Absolutely nothing, and fair play to them for doing so and keep it interesting.
But if anyone asks me (and they haven't yet) my advice would be that a fine place to start the ZZ Top journey is at the beginning in the swampy-blues sound of 'ZZ Top's First Album' (1971) or 'Rio Grande Mud' (1972).

Over and above those though, my go to "you must hear this" choice would be 1973s 'Tres Hombres'.
This is their third album and they've now got  feel for the studio, and are becoming more adept at recreating their sound in the studio confines - not going in, plugging in, and laying it down.  This album feels stronger than previous efforts - the playing is more solid, certainly at the bottom end - allowing the guitars to sit above the groove and the songs to bloom, rather than replicate what you would hear on stage.

There is much to like (and move your feet to) on the album.  From the somewhat funky-blues-boogie of opener "Waiting For The Bus" through "Jesus Just Left Chicago" to "Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers" and "Move Me On Down The Line".

But surely the standout track is "La Grange" - a John Lee Hooker-like Boogie, with a searing guitar bolted to it.
Undoubtedly one of the highest points in ZZ Tops's half decade, and one often overlooked in favour of the Beards, Cars, and Girls videos of 'Eliminator' and 'Afterburner'

Nick Heyward - From Monday To Sunday

In the early 80s, Haircut 100 were ploughing a joyful jazz-funk type groove, and  realeased a clutch of truly great singles ("Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl)", "Love Plus One", "Fantastic Day" and "Nobody's Fool") and one great album ('Pelican West') before falling apart and frontman Nick Heyward starting a sol career with moderate success (moderate compared to the critical and public adoration that Haircut 100 received, and could have continued to receive).
By 1986/87 success had all but dried up and Nick was probably consigned to the "Where Are They Now?" file.

And then in May 1994, snuck away on late night ITV (Bob Mills – In Bed With Me Dinner) Nick Heyward was introduced as the musical guest.  A near incendiary version of "Fantastic Day" flew out of the telly.  This was followed by "Caravan" – a track I didn’t know but I needed to hear again.  A cover version of The Jam’s "Sounds From The Street" finished things off.

Strange how 15 minutes of TV can have such an effect and re-launch a career in the viewer’s mind.

And here is the performance(s):

"Caravan" was from Nick's latest solo album 'From Monday To Sunday' which arrived in my sweaty little hands the following weekend (yes, this is a time when a trip to Our Price - or often other record shops if looking for something in particular - was a necessary pert of the process) and was probably played solidly for about a month (or more).

Although his solo career had never hit the heights investors hoped he was capable of, he'd somehow wound up signing to a major label (Epic) and was releasing his fourth solo set (something of a comeback, as it was his first album for 5 years).

There was a slight departure in sound too - the funk-edges of his previous work were replaced with Rock-centric tropes.  The melody and songcraft of old remained, but there was an injection of energy and jangle too.

At the time I first heard this album, Britpop was gathering pace, and it fitted the mould.  In fact, I see it now as one the pre-cursors - a sort of proto-Britpop, alongside names such as Boo Radleys, Primal Scream, Elastica, Gene, SMASH, These Animal Men, Menswear and Shed Seven

And to these ears 'From Monday To Sunday' is the beginnings of Britpop.  Its full of melody, strong songs, and rooted on this side of the Atlantic.  It takes near nostalgia such as The Stone Roses and blends with The Beatles, Squeeze and The Jam to fill out the picture.
A trick repeated by many a Britpopper.
And to my eyes, the album cover is a picture of a Full English Breakfast served in a greasy spoon cafe (completed with chequered vinyl tablecloth) - the type of British Culture celebrating image that would become a common site, most notably the pictures of Blur at the Dog Racing on the inner cover of 'Parklife' 

For me, it’s up there with Britpop touchstones 'Parklife', 'Definitely Maybe' and 'Stanley Road'.
And off the back of 'Stanley Road', Paul Weller was anointed The Modfather Of Britpop.
I'm not suggesting that Nick Heyward is the equal of Paul Weller, but they are certainly contemporary.

And who knows?  With a little more luck and recognition, he could be making guest appearances on albums and/or playing larger venues.  Instead, Nick remains on the 80s nostalgia circuit.

Maybe, just maybe, Nick fired too soon.

Quality is high across the album's 12 tracks - there is a danger that it can be seen as front-loaded with "He Doesn't Love You Like I Do", "Caravan", and "Kite" filling 3 of the 4 opening solts.
But no, there is more than enough of equal calibre filling the space.

The pick of the bunch for me is "kite" - it's rich, jangling, undertated and plain glorious.  This song says as much to me about the summer of 1994 as Parklife and Live Forever.

Also vying for attention of the yearning "How Do You Live Without Sunshine", the jumping (almost echoes of Haircut 100 past) "January Man", and closing track - the almost epic and yearning (again) "Everytime"

Life's like that, delicious with clause.

You never get the truth, just promises galore.

Don’t let them shoot your kite down

Kite

Matt Berry - The Blue Elephant

Matt Berry is a bit like that kid at school where everything he turns his hand to is a success.  But his charisma prevents you from disliking the annoying over-achiever.

And so it is with his music career.  He's been releasing albums for a decade and a bit, and with this one he really has gone full polymath - playing all instruments (except the drums), writing, producing, arranging, even supplying the painting for the cover.

'The Blue Elephant' is a journey through summer sounds against a backdrop of 60s Garage-Psych, The Doors meets Deep Purple, Proggy moments, and even a near David Bowie vocal impression.  But it's not a retro exercise - this is as much a product of 2021 as the debt it owes to the past.  Breezily familiar yet brand new.  Relaxing yet occasionally jarring.  An exercise in audience pleasing as much as pleasing the artist himself.

Berry's sometimes over enunciated tones fit the musical styles, although the album is sometimes let down by weak lyrics.  Actually, those lyrics might be weak on purpose - maybe Matt Berry can't help himself returning to Comedy-type.

"It's a drag to be set on fire, I've been sacked from the choir, I came back to Bedfordshire"
("Now Disappear")

"There's something in the air, There's someone on the street, There's something in my hair, There's someone you should meet"
("Life Unknown")

"Me, me, I don't care, Don't touch my hair, Try not to stare"
"In my home, all alone, Hide my bone, Live alone, kill my phone, Watch my tone"
("Like Stone")

But the lyrics are a minor quibble - it's all about the music and ambiance that the album delivers.
"Abroad" is a breezy instrumental easing you in before "Summer Sun" goes full on 60s Garage-Psych.  Probably the most incessant (and best) track on here.  It is familiar yet unheard before.  A rare trick to pull off.
As you progress through the tracks, you get the notion that The Doors were something of a touchstone/reference point, even closely cribbing "Riders On The Storm" through the breakdown of  "Alone".
All tracks closely butt up to each other rendering the album best consumed as a whole rather than split out to individual tracks.
There are a couple of instrumental linking tracks - notably in the form of "Safe Passage" and "Safer Passage" which to these ears are the same track fed in different directions through the Tape Machine.
A trick I feel is repeated with "Story Told" and "Forget Me".  These two tracks are either a backward recording, or a forward and backward version combined.

After "Summer Sun", special praise goes to "Blues Inside Me" - a blues-rock / late 60s / Glam Rock stomp which starts in Jim Morrison territory before mutating into something that feels like an early David Bowie cut.

The listing of instruments used includes 11 varieties of keyboard ranging from piano, Wurlitzer, Hammond Organ, Vox Continental and a bank of synthesisers.
Vastly under-rated rock instruments like Xylophone and Glockenspiel are also listed, giving rise to the cry "More Glockenspiel!" as some tracks unfold.

Although Matt Berry plays everything (and at points feeds his vocals through a vocoder), in a lot of cases it's the drums that drive the songs - managing to stay on dead beat but with enough randomness and flourish to add more depth and colour to the picture.

There is much to like with 'The Blue Elephant', but aside from the 2 stand out tracks highlighted, one wonders how substantial the songs are.  In context, they work together creating an almost perfect soundtrack for relaxed summer evenings - as a whole it definitely hits a spot.  Just not convinced there is a "Great" album here - a "Very Very Good" one perhaps, but just falling short of Greatness.

Summer Sun

Blues Inside Me

Derek And Clive

 Peter Cook and Dudley Moore first worked together in Beyond The Fringe with Alan Bennett and Jonathan Miller.
When Beyond The Fringe completed it's last tour, Dudley Moore was offered a BBC Series - Not Only But Also - showcasing his comedy and Music.  He brought Peter Cook in as a scriptwriter and occasional performer.  Cook's role in the show expanded to equal billing, and the Pete and Dud Dagenham Dialogues were born.
Much of Not Only But Also has been wiped, but the shows that do remain show the two performing together in an irreverent, often improvisational way - a result of not really having time to rehearse, Cook's propensity to go off-script when a new thought came to him, and the devilment in Cook's eyes when he spots a new way to make Dud corpse 

Like here (at about 5:25)

Not Only But Also ran for 3 series, but by the end relations between the 2 were strained, primarily due to Peter Cooks increasing un-reliability and increasing alcohol intake.
In 1973, they assembled their best sketches into a revue show - Behind The Fridge - and set off on tour of Australia and USA.
While in America, Peter Cook attempted to smooth relationships with Dudley by booking some time in a studio and the pair just taking some time out to have rambling conversations, a few drinks, and see what happened.
What happened was basically the Dagenham Dialogues peppered with swearing.  And so was born the alter egos of Derek and Clive.
Chris Blackwell - Head of Island Records who'd booked the studio for them - gave out Bootleg copies to friends, who passed them on, and passed them on again.  When Peter Cook heard about this, he pushed Chris Blackwell to release it commercially (Dudley Moore was a little concerned as it may impact the Hollywood career and image he was looking to build).
For the commercial release, some other sketches were added from their current Stage Show - it's not that they're bad sketches, they just don't flow with the tirade of filth and bad language of the other tracks
(no less funny though)

And so was born the legend of a pair of toilet cleaners discussing philosophy, meeting strangers, and reminiscences of past employment.  As the sleeve notes said, they're basically just a couple of c*nts.

The album may not have sold in droves (it did make number 74 on the Australian Album Chart), but was picked up and shared by the many (it was packaged like a bootleg, and it was bootlegs that reached the ears of more than those who actually laid out hard cash).
But it's reception (and reputation) was enough for Pete & Dud to revisit the characters the following year, releasing 'Come Again' and this time finding a place in the Top 20 of the UK Album Chart.

'Come Again' is basically more of the same, but with the shock quotient turned up several notches.  It was known that Peter Cook's decent into alcoholism was rampant at this time, and the clanking of glasses and slurred speech on the album suggest that Dudley Moore was in a similar state of inebriation.
The other noticeable thing about the conversations on 'Come Again' as a sign that their working and personal; relationships with each other were strained almost to breaking point - Peter Cook never missing an opportunity to have a dig or snide remark in Dudley's direction.

The third installment of Derek and Clive - 'Ad Nauseum' - came in 1978, and marks the end of their working relationship.
The album itself was effectively recorded sober - as can be seen in the accompanying film (Derek and Clive Get The Horn, released 1979) - and for the most part a happy and cordial affair.  But there are moments when Peter Cook cannot stop himself sticking the knife in and going just too far for Dudley Moore's liking.
Towards the end of the recording, and after a particularly spiteful attack - Dudley Moore walks out saying "It's no wonder we're splitting up".  And indeed, 'Ad Nauseum' was to be the last joint project they worked on.

But the legacy of Derek and Clive was not over - Peter Cook and Richard Branson had organised for the recording of the album to be filmed, and the resultant film (although not granted an official release due to censorship issues) was put out on video.
Unfortunately, about as many copies of the video were impounded by the Police as were sold to the British public, resulting in the Video company (part funded by Peter Cook) going bankrupt.
It was finally given a proper DVD release in 1993.

I may have listened to the albums too much, but it is difficult to hear the name Jayne Mansfield without raising a smile, questioning inept leadership without asking "is this anyway to run a ballroom", or even listen to Horse Racing commentary.

If there is a true-ism that there is a Monty Python quote for any occasion ("all roads lead to Python"), then many of those same roads (often with a vulgar fork in the road) will also lead to Derek & Clive.

The Worst Job I Ever Had

The Worst Job He Ever Had

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