As far as Madness booking operations are concerned, America has somehow become the proverbial London bus stop. You wait here bloody ages for a tour, and then along come two or three at once. Remember how we had to tough it out for 12 long years without Madness between April 2012 and May 2024? Now here they are again, just one year later! Us colonists are gonna get spoiled by all this lavish attention, I tell ya.
Since I had decided against a pilgrimage to Minehead for the House of Fun 2025 revival, I was eager to jump on the chance to catch this west coast jaunt. This Carolina boy had been looking for an excuse to return to California and get some In-N-Out burgers. I chose the Sacramento date because it seemed the easiest logistically, and I was intrigued by the brand new venue, Channel 24, scheduled to open a month before Madness would arrive. This gig would turn out to be unexpectedly significant as the first Madness performance since Suggs quit drinking earlier this year.
Donald Trull is proud to be in Sacramento
For the 2024 U.S. tour, Stateside Madness arranged well-received pre-show meetups in New York and Boston. Alas, we didn’t manage to repeat those Madmeets this year, mainly because SSM bossman Poly Collins wasn’t in attendance. I lack the skills to arrange social things with Poly’s flair. But I had the pleasure of spending the evening with our affable west coast ambassador, Al Warmerdam, and his charming daughter, Allie, and we said hello to Bonnie London and other California fans.
Channel 24 is an amazing midsize concert venue, designed to fill a void between clubs and arenas in the Sacramento market. Set on an unassuming corner in a neighborhood on the fringes of downtown, a short walk from the state capitol, Channel 24’s angular edifice is marked by a sleek digital marquee. The spacious general admission auditorium still has that new venue smell, with swanky Pergo-style flooring in place of your typical cement slab. What better way to break in those laminate woodgrain panels than a horde of dancing Madness fans?
After an opening set of vintage reggae and soul records spun by DJ Harry Duncan, the lights went down and it was showtime. In contrast with the magisterial Star Wars main title theme they chose last year, Madness took the stage to the blaring sugar-rush assault of “Merrily We Roll Along,” better known as the Looney Tunes theme. How utterly perfect. Somehow this entrance cue has Chrissy Boy’s fingerprints all over it.
From there we were off and running into the familiar opening movement: “One Step Beyond,” “Embarrassment,” “The Prince.” Like last year, only five official members of Madness were present, with Mez Clough once again doing a fine job on drums in place of Woody. The Channel 24 sound system is a beauty, giving us defined separation of Mike’s mellifluous keys, Mark’s steady bass, Chrissy’s hot licks and Lee’s assorted noises. But my ears and eyes homed in on the main man, the geezer of leisure, Mr. G. Suggs McPherson.
The first notable thing about Suggs was his eyewear. In place of his usual dark shades, he was sporting thick horn-rims that were giving “grandad reads his Sunday Times.” Suggs was back in his old Ray-Bans for the rest of the U.S. shows, so I think maybe he simply forgot to switch out of his Coke-bottle prescription glasses before stepping onstage in Sacramento. Whatever the reason, getting to see Suggsy’s eyes felt emblematic on this special evening when our man must have been feeling a bit exposed and vulnerable.
The second notable thing about Suggs was he sounded fabulous. Voice in fine form, lyrics delivered accurately and on time. Even as he spouted his well-worn intros and stage patter, he was more focused and present. Suggs is now a changed man, emerging from a chronic mental fog. What a beautiful moment to behold.
After the first few numbers, Suggs remarked that they were sounding pretty good, considering this was the first time they’d performed in six months. Thommo stepped to the mic and added in a proud timbre, “And there’s something new!” He outstretched both arms toward Suggs admiringly. “It rhymes with October,” Lee intoned with a wink.
Suggs shrugged off the salute and never said anything himself about sobriety. He didn’t need to. All he had to do was sing. Suggs announced they were going to pull out a few oldies they hadn’t played in a while, which proved to be “Lovestruck,” Jimmy Cliff’s “The Harder They Come,” and “Grey Day.” These three gems seemed to prompt the most excitement as measured in applause and fan comments afterward.
For me, “Lovestruck” was the highlight of the evening. Suggs shaded the Barson/Thompson composition with new meanings: what was once the rollicking comeback single for the revitalized Madness of 1999 now works as reflections from a recovering alcoholic, spilling out his deepest feelings about his past. It was a truly powerful rendition I’ll never forget.
The one big cock-up of the show occurred with “Wings of the Dove,” which went sideways after the first verse and careened to a halt. This is where I wish I had a recording to verify what exactly was said. But as I recall and understood it, Bedders was the one who derailed things. Barson admonished him like a bemused headmaster disappointed in his star pupil, with words to the effect of “The idear is, we’re supposed to stay togevva!” Mark grinned sheepishly, then Suggs rallied the troops, saying something like, “Come on, we gotta get it right tonight. It’s the 12-inch extended version.” And they took the celebratory song from the top. The exchange made it seem that Suggs was putting in extra effort (and was probably glad it wasn’t him who goofed).
There was another entertaining bit of theatre for my perennial favorite interlude, Chris’s Showtime. He told a crestfallen Channel 24 crowd that he’d decided not to sing tonight (awww…), and was trying to arrange some sort of audience call-and-response when he got interrupted by Lee’s chattering. Chrissy exploded and gave up, returning the mic to Suggs in disgust. “I guess it’ll be separate dressing rooms for them two after this,” Suggs said, then had to proclaim it Showtime himself. “House of Fun,” “Baggy Trousers,” “Our House,” “It Must Be Love,” you know the drill.
The encores held one last surprise as special guest guitarist Clive Langer accompanied the band on “Madness.” What a treat to spot their esteemed erstwhile producer, whom I’d only seen before at House of Fun 2015 with his Clang Group. One certain fan quipped that Clive may have tagged along on the U.S. trip as Suggs’s sponsor and support, being in recovery himself. Could be.
So then the nutty train rolled along to “Night Boat to Cairo,” and the Sacramento faithful went home happy with our new Uncle Sam T-shirts, tired feet and happy memories. My only grumble about the evening was the complete expungement of Theatre of the Absurd presents C’est La Vie from the setlist. I can understand that the band is switching into hits mode, aligning with the Hit Parade tour and compilation planned for late 2025, but come on. If they’re going to include “Mr. Apples,” they should at least keep “If I Go Mad” in rotation.
Al Warmerdam is proud to have the setlist
But that’s enough fan whinge. After seeing Madness in New York last year, I told myself I would be content if that were the final time I ever saw them. Such has proven not to be the case. God bless Madness for taking care of American fans, and God bless Suggs for taking care of himself.
And a final word to those repulsive, loathsome online cretins who have slagged off Suggs, who have jeered him as some sort of hypocrite and questioned his sincerity. You are not fans. You are not even human. You can all go eat a bag of dicks.
Back during the pandemic lockdown days, Chris Foreman made a few wisecracks about Suggs getting all high and mighty now that he was writing songs for Paul Weller. It would be some time before we learned the extent of this new collaboration between the two old mates. After Thommo showed up on Weller’s On Sunset album, in 2002 we got the delightfully off-kilter Suggs & Weller single, “Ooh Do U Fink U R?” (I think may have been the only raging fan of that little ditty, but that’s okay.) Then this year we find that Suggs has contributed lyrics to not one but two tracks on Weller’s new 66 album, named Adele-style in observance of Paul’s May 25 birthday.
Weller enlisted a number of his friends to co-write the album’s songs, noting that he had more music flowing out of himself than words at this particular juncture, and he was keen to invite some new creative perspectives. In addition to Suggs, 66 roped in Noel Gallagher, Bobby Gillespie, Richard Hawley, Tom Doyle, Christophe Vaillant and Erland Cooper. Even Steve Brookes, Paul’s longtime friend and founding member of The Jam, came aboard to play some guitar, and Jacko Peake is back again on flute and sax. Oh yeah, and the renowned Sir Peter Blake, veteran of both Weller and Madness album covers, returns to paint the 66 sleeve artwork.
Our man Suggs lent his lyrical chops to the opening track, “Ship of Fools,” and another standout called “Nothing.” There are no Suggs vocals to be heard, though. At one point Weller had entertained the thought of making this an album of duets, an idea still worth considering at some point. Suggs jokes that he didn’t sing on his co-written songs because he couldn’t imagine joining Paul on tour, but some subtle backing vocals could have been nice.
On the Paul Weller Fan Podcast, Suggs told Dan Jennings “Ship of Fools” was “sort of autobiographical” and something of a reflection on the relationships within Madness. Weller had taken the lyrics to be a commentary on the British government, an interpretation Suggs approves of. “You know it’s a very amorphic thing, innit, ‘ship of fools?’ You know, could apply to pretty much f***ing everything, but Paul took it in that world of greedy avaricious people that he didn’t want to necessarily appreciate. And I totally dug that, yeah.” He added with a laugh, “I mean, it’s about my band. I don’t want to slag them off.” As a point of interest on their collaborative process, Suggs shared that Weller expanded the ship metaphor by adding the lyrics about swimming to the shore.
Ship of Fools Weller/McPherson
Oh boy! These high seas can be so cruel When you’re trying to find your own way And girl, that man of war’s a fool I wouldn't follow him anywhere
Big, small, they all swim round their bowls I don't care for their wishes All striving to be better than Those other fishes
Try – before the storm To dive, swim to shore ’Til you can't see that boat Anymore
As the storm takes flight Still no land in sight Let the four winds blow Let ’em go, let ’em blow, I know ’Til they’re so far away
On board this ship of fools we go I don’t care for their wishes
Suggs’s other 66 contribution, “Nothing,” has an entirely different feel and different genesis. It began as personal poem written by Suggs’s best friend since childhood, Andrew Chalk. Best known as Chalky, he was a roadie for Madness in the early days and often came onstage to do that headbutting dance with Chas Smash during “Swan Lake.” It turns out Chalky is a thoughtful and expressive soul who has long written poetry as a private exercise.
“I’ve never really given it to anyone,” Chalky said, also speaking on the Dan Jennings podcast. “I just write it to explain things to myself from a different perspective that makes sense to me. You know like in those pub quizzes where they give you a weird object and you have to guess what it is. And you go oh, it’s a pencil sharpener or a cheese grater. Poetry for me is like taking life and going, well, we all know that’s a cheese grater, but here, have a look at it this way and then show a different perspective, from a different angle that you might not have seen before, become aware of before and it opens something out.”
Chalky explained that he penned this particular poem to help himself sort out the unique nature of his lifelong friendship with Suggs. When Chalky shared it with him, Suggs was moved. “It was just ‘we came from nothing, nothing, we had nothing, nothing.’ And then the killer is, ‘but each other.’ And I just thought that was great. And I thought, cos we were still in this sort of communication about writing songs, me and Paul, I thought I just could see this suited him rather than me. And he just wrote back straight away and said yeah, we’ll just flesh it out a bit…. Paul said because he related to him and his family, ‘we had nothing but each other.’ And I think that’s a universal thing for people where we come from. So it was just a beautiful thing. I mean, Chalky said to me, you know, I never thought I’d be able to write a song, never mind get a credit on an album. And Paul bunged him a few quid, which was even better.”
On the Dan Jennings podcast, Chalky revealed the depth of purpose in his poetic word choices. “It is about Suggs, it is about our friendship,” he said. “But maybe part of it is [more]. The very first line I made sure that I didn’t use me and you, I. It’s us and we. Which makes it non–third person. Which means it’s about us and we, and you could, I think people get that community thing. It’s us and we, we make this, it’s us and we, there’s not a me and you. There’s not a separation in friendship, it’s not that and that, it’s this. But me and you now is us and we. If you think about it, it’s much nicer, it’s much more collaborative.”
Speaking of being collaborative, one might wonder what Suggs did to merit a songwriting credit here, since Chalky did most of the heavy lifting. But Suggs specified what part he added: “Then I wrote the bit about the silver trees and walking backwards and all that which is something that always, like what I call the Van Morrison stuff I’ve always liked.”
Nothing Weller/McPherson/Chalk
Us and we We had nothing We came together by Having nothing
Nothing forged our love Out of nothing Because it was only by Having nothing We were able to realise We needed nothing else But each other But each other
Walking back through The silver trees The light summer’s Evening breeze Across my face To a time and place Then it was gone, gone Gone, gone
Us and we We had nothing We came together by Having nothing else But each other But each other
As a massive Paul Weller fan, I’m thrilled to find Suggs (and Chalky) making such a substantial contribution to this landmark Paul Weller album that has drawn critical acclaim and hit #1 on the UK charts. 66 has got some other bangers, especially “Flying Fish” and “Soul Wandering.”
But I have to point out that it’s not at all complete unless you get the deluxe edition with the bonus tracks. “Wheel of Fortune” is a dance hall stomper where Suggs would have been totally at home chirping “’Ave a banana!” between verses. “In a Silent Wold” is a classic Weller chill-out ballad. “Now Is Here” is gorgeous slow burn that sounds like a lost outtake from Wild Wood – my favorite thing on 66. “Gotta Get On” is a barnburner that makes a much more satisfying closer than the droning “Burn Out.” It’s even worth hunting down the Japan-exclusive “That’s What She Said,” which goes beyond the cheeky title to serve up a refreshing Style Council throwback. There’s even a great remix of “Nothing” that layers more drums and rhythm guitar without screwing up the original song and the emotion in Chalky’s verse. If you haven’t heard these bonus gems, you ain’t heard 66.
With grateful acknowledgment to Dan Jennings’s Paul Weller Fan Podcast. Check out his set of fantastic interviews with many of the 66 album contributors.
“It’s been quite a palaver getting to America,” Suggs intoned five songs into the Madness show in the Hammerstein Ballroom at New York’s Manhattan Center, the final stop on this long-awaited U.S. tour. “We tried three times during the lockdown and kept getting blown out. But we’re here now finally, yes!”
The crowd’s roaring cheers summed up an evening brimming with joy, fulfillment and mutual gratitude between artists and audience. Though for myself personally, this was the least amount of palaver I’d ever undertaken to get myself to Madness. I took an Amtrak route from my town in North Carolina all the way to Penn Station, not even changing trains, deposited just a block and a half from the venue and my hotel. Fancy that: me getting to a Madness gig without need for an aeroplane! Manhattan Center sits in the shadow of the Empire State Building on West 34th Street, and that morning I did the tourist thing up the 86th floor observatory to gaze down and reflect. A moment to take time for my pleasure and laugh with love, feeling literally and figuratively on top of the world. “Here now finally,” indeed.
Honestly, it feels like a redundant and unnecessary exercise to write this “review,” because all I can do is gush and rave. I loved it, the night was perfect, it was amazing. No real criticism here. But this is my duty as the appointed Stateside Madness scribe, so let’s bang out a few heavily biased fanboy thoughts and observations for the record.
This New York show was vastly more satisfying than my last Madness gig. At the 2019 Kenwood House concert in London, I was so disappointed by terrible sound and unruly fans that drowned out the live orchestra assembled for the 40th anniversary spectacular. I resolved never to attend another huge outdoor Madness fest debased with rain, mud and drunken yobbos – only indoor shows or House of Fun type events from here on out. The Manhattan Center atmosphere was just what the doctor ordered. A crowd packed with engaged and loving fans who weren’t primarily interested in getting shitfaced. (Sadly there were some nasty kerfuffles for security to grapple with, drawing Suggs’ concern during “The Prince.”) Crystal clear sound mixing and a simple lighting setup. This was the first time I’ve seen Madness with no video screens or Vegas-style MADNESS marquee letters flashing behind them, keeping all visual attention squarely on the musicians. The boys were certainly up for it, smiling and basking in the warm reception they’ve found stateside.
Whether justifiably or not, Suggs has garnered a reputation for being the weak link in the Madness stage show. The rest of the band are rock-solid professionals, whereas Suggsy can be a bit unpredictable, shall we say. But he was in fine form in New York, perhaps a result of choosing discretion with preshow drinks. Suggs was witty and charming in his banter, and generally acquitted himself well on vocal duties. But bless his heart, the fella just can’t make it through “My Girl” anymore without messing up one verse or another, and he always starts too early on “House of Fun”! An exasperated Chrissy Boy bounded over to give Suggs hand signals on when to restart with “Good morning Miss,” almost like a practiced comedy routine. Those stumbles aside, Suggs did great and we love him.
In fairness, his instrument-playing bandmates flubbed up a couple of times too. Something went badly sideways with the intro to “NW5,” sounding like Mike Barson accidentally bashed out the opening chords of “My Girl” instead. Oops. Lee wanted to have a quick tea break after that. Percussionist Mez Clough ably filled in on drums in place of Woody, who opted to sit out the U.S. tour. I thought Mez sounded perhaps a tad off in “Wings of a Dove,” but otherwise remained remarkably faithful to Mr. Woodgate’s rhythmic stylings.
In terms of the setlist, ideally I could have done with a couple more from the excellent Theatre of the Absurd presents C’est La Vie, in place of some of the Dangermen covers. But all in all, I think they selelcted the three new songs we most needed to hear: “C’est La Vie,” “If I Go Mad” and “Run for Your Life.” As much as I adore the album tracks “Round We Go,” “Hour of Need” and “Beginners 101,” recordings from the UK have demonstrated Suggs’s difficulty in capturing his delicate and nuanced studio vocals on stage, so it’s just as well those were left out. I’d hoped “Run for Your Life” would be more of a raging singalong, though I can understand if it was too weird for the New York audience to metabolize. I loved hearing it, though. If I could have put one more TOTAPCLV wish on the setlist, it would have been “What on Earth Is It (You Take Me For)?” How fun it might have been to witness that concentrated burst of Thommo energy, but I’m content without it.
My favorite songs of the night? Whoa, it’s hard to choose. I’ll say “The Sun and the Rain,” “If I Go Mad” and my beloved “Night Boat to Cairo.” Also have to admit that I deeply enjoyed “Girl (Why Don’t You),” which I’d never heard them play in person before. And a special commendation to C.J. Foreman for a most spectacular Showtime intermission! Two whole verses of “Highway to Hell,” my goodness I feel blessed. For those about to skank, we salute you, Chris.
I must likewise applaud the band’s impeccable taste in intro and outro music. They walked onstage to the strains of John Williams’s “Star Wars: Main Title” and left us with Eric Idle’s “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.” If there are two other cultural pillars I love as much as Madness, they are Star Wars and Monty Python. Just hearing the Star Wars theme puts me in a heightened state of emotion. And then after the encores, my buddies Poly, John and Cazza started a dance circle to the Life of Brian anthem that I joined in on. The circle rapidly expanded across the floor Hammerstein Ballroom floor, somewhere near 100 of us with arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, kicking and whistling in delirium, spitting gleefully in the face of mortality and dread. What a moment of communal delight and unity among strangers that I’ll never forget.
And the record must reflect that this concert took place a few short hours after a historic jury verdict was handed down at a Lower Manhattan courthouse a mere three miles south of us. The outstanding opening act Fishbone did not mince words in their assessment of the newly convicted felon. Suggs offered his own sly thoughts a couple of times during the show. “I’m in no position to talk about bent politicians, right? Where I come from, we’ve had more than our fair share of them bollocks. But I’m not saying, y’know, New York did a bit of something good today.” This came before launching into “Mr Apples,” where Lee substituted “Mr Donald” in the first chorus and Suggs ad libbed “What’s it all about? Power. Corruption. Perversion.” As a preamble to his Showtime cabaret, Chris declared with Superman vigor, “It’s time for justice and the American way!” and led us in three cheers of hip hip hooray. What a big, beautiful night to party in New York. Yuge!
So, politics and any other petty divisiveness notwithstanding, let me address one last thing, possibly the most important reason for this U.S. tour: bringing Madness fans together. The band and their management have to be thrilled with the enthusiastic turnout at these shows. Even if regular visits to our shores aren’t economically and logistically feasible, at least they know they’re still beloved here. And the value of fans meeting fans can’t be understated. At our pre-show Stateside Madness meetup, organized by my esteemed comrade Poly Collins, we drew a nice crowd of friendly folks mixing and mingling. I had the pleasure of handing out free SSM buttons and making new friends like Glenn, Jay, Benjamin and so many others whose names I don’t remember. I got to see my friends John, Jeff, Lori, Derek, and of course the legendary Jon Young, who graciously gave me a C’est La Vie CD autographed by Lee Thompson in honor of our co-authored album review. And after the show I had the great pleasure of finally meeting Domingo “Sunday” Muñoz, our brother-in-arms who runs MIS Mexico. He even brought me a custom-made 2 Tone bandana to match the stylish one Jon was sporting that evening.
One of our goals when we organized Stateside Madness in 2020 was to create a U.S. fan community similar to the tight-knit, “where everybody knows your name” Madness fanbase in the UK. We’ve never gotten near that point so far. Certainly, meeting one another in person is the best way to make an online community come alive with personalities who share bonds and enjoy interaction. With this U.S. tour, I think we’re finally seeing sparks of that. I’m hoping “C’est La Vie in America” won’t prove to be the end of our purpose at Stateside Madness, but rather the end of the beginning.
Being a Glorified YouTube Reaction Video Wrought as a Shambolic Three-Act Mockery of a Dramaturgical Pompfest Upon the Premiere of Theatre of the Absurd presents C’est La Vie
Conceived, Written and Performed by Donald Trull and Jonathan Young
SPOILER WARNING! The following review contains in-depth, track-by-track discussion of the second half of the new Madness long-playing record. If you have not yet had the privilege of listening to said album, then what in the holy hell is wrong with you, ya sad bastard? Did you not know the flippin’ album’s out already, Chief? Stop right now, go buy it or stream it or vape it or whatever you kids do these days. Then hike your sorry slacker ass back over here and slap the boys’ new masterpiece on the hi-fi while you merrily read along, to laugh and cry and gasp and cheer and perhaps soil yourself a bit, just as the authors intended.And be sure to start with the LP 1 review, not on this page where we’re up to Act III.
Scene: Mr Trull sits alone in the balcony box, polishing off a Cadbury Flake 99 ice cream and fiddling on his iPhone. A sparse arrangement of the orchestral overture from The Liberty of Norton Folgate is reaching its crescendo. Mr Young enters hurriedly, toting a pint of Kronenbourg beer and plopping into his seat as the house lights dim.
MR YOUNG (breathing heavily, shaking his head and checking his Sekonda watch): Oh good, I was afraid I’d be late. I was off moonlighting, reviewing The Beatles’ new record “Now and Then,” with my dad.
MR TRULL (warbles in poor imitation of Suggs): Was it the best job you ever a-had? Let’s stay focused on the new Madness record, shall we? Here comes Martin Freeman now.
MR YOUNG (yells): Dr Watson, I presume!
MR TRULL (hollers): Where’s Sherlock?
THE COMPÈRE (ignores heckles and speaks over suspenseful piano and ominous rolls of thunder): The situation deteriorates still further. It is becoming dire. The end is possibly nigh.
“Lockdown and Frack Off” by C. Foreman begins to play.
MR YOUNG: This one’s really different, innit? Though the intro reminds me of the home demo of Chris’s “Please Don’t Go.” Not the released B-side. And Suggs’s stage-whisper vocal is like on his song “Fortune Fish.”
MR TRULL: It reminds me more of The Madness. Especially the song “Oh.” That chugga-chugga rhythm. It has a bit of a Deaf School feel too. Suggs doing a Clive Langer vocal. And I love that banjo-style guitar plucking! This song is really fun, considering Chrissy’s subject matter of choice.
MR YOUNG: Yeah, he’s found a nice way to vent his personal COVID and eco demonstration opinions by having a laugh. The lyrics run through the litany of lockdown panic: death counts reported daily on TV, pub curfews, panic buying of groceries and petrol, neighbours encouraged to report violations on one another, surrendering of personal liberties, energy price hikes, and of course vaccination controversy. But in the way he’s strung it together, this turns out as the funniest song on the album.
MR TRULL: That is quite a feat! Personally I’m on the other side of Chris’s views on “the jab,” and felt trepidatious about a musical version of his Instagram posts. But he’s chosen the perfect tack here, dwelling on the insanity of this crisis we lived through instead of arguing over who was right or wrong.
MR YOUNG: Oh, nearly forgot. (Digs into his vest pocket.) I just got another telegram brought to me down in the lobby. This one’s from Mr C.J. Foreman on the song’s origins. Here, have a listen. (Reads.)“I had the music for years. The band said this one and ‘Run for Your Life’ are the same. But it’s sort of like that one’s almost conspiracy theories, and this is everyone being locked down, grass on your neighbours like when there’s a hosepipe ban. For some reason I started writing about fracking, running out of ideas halfway through the lyrics. Eco warriors, people appreciate what they are trying to do, but the way they try to do it is wrong. Throwing something at a Van Gogh painting. Nearly everyone in the band has changed song titles, so I made this ‘Lockdown and Frack Off,’ which I thought was good.”
MR TRULL: No way. I just thought he meant the title as a euphemism for the F-word. Never would have guessed it was inspired by hydraulic fracturing and eco protests, before Chris added the COVID commentary.
MR YOUNG (holds telegram up to his face and squints): Huh. It’s signed with Chrissy Boy’s rubber stamp. How’d he manage that on a telegram? (Folds and pockets the telegram). Anyway, I have to wonder about the redundancy of these lockdown songs. How well will they age? Depends on how soon till the next pandemic, maybe!
MR TRULL: I think it’s okay if a song like this becomes dated, because it serves as a snapshot in time. Like old protest songs reflect how people felt about Vietnam or Margaret Thatcher or whatever. I think some of that sensibility is baked into “Lockdown and Frack Off,” like the folky flow of the chorus: “Hey now, who you gonna be now? What you gonna do now?” That sounds like something Bob Dylan or Woody Guthrie would have put in their political anthems. The times they are a-changin’, and four biscuits this song is a-gettin’.
MR YOUNG (giggling): You can dunk them in the protesters’ weaponised tomato soup!
“Beginners 101” by M. Barson begins to play.
MR TRULL: Wow. (Stunned silence.) I am entranced.
MR YOUNG: Very pretty melody. Is this a sequel to “MKII”? The man in “silver mohair bright” drives further on to his next criminal escapade? You could play them back to back and the sound and cinematic lens theme would carry forward perfectly.
MR TRULL: It’s just beautiful. Barson and Bedders joined in lockstep, steering the ship majestically. And then Lee’s sax solos bring tears to my eyes…
MR YOUNG: Mike’s lyrics tell of a gold robbery gone wrong. He mentions Where Eagles Dare, a Clint Eastwood war film about a raid on a German castle. They used a rope in the famous cable car stunt scene, just like our robbers’ rooftop escapes. What’s the “Jimmy something waterproof”? Is Barso having a senior moment? (Laughs.) Is he removing the brand name here? Eh? Donald?
MR TRULL (dazed): Huh?
MR YOUNG: All right, mate?
MR TRULL: Yeah, I’m just head over heels with this song. You’re talking about a gold heist or something, but that’s not even registering with me. I think this is really a love song. All the language about a robbery can be read as a metaphor for two young lovers who were having fun, but they made foolish mistakes and things didn’t work out. The man from the special branch might be her disapproving dad, or her old boyfriend. The bars of gold might be temptation that one of them gave into. The rich beauty of the music tells me there’s more going on here than yobbos on a foiled crime caper. I feel like it’s closer to “Sugar and Spice” or “Up the Junction” than “MKII.” And note the sexual implications in that final line cribbed from “Norwegian Wood”: “This bird has flown.”
“Is There Anybody Out There?” by C. Foreman/L. Thompson begins to play.
MR YOUNG: A slinky, soulful tune from Chris and Lee. A bit Roxy Music, a bit “(Don’t Let Them) Catch You Crying.” Lyrics call back to the swindlers and con men from “Calling Cards” and “Shut Up.” A suitcase salesman peddling his wares on the streets to a crowd gathered round till the police chase him off. Like a Mary Poppins street vendor, selling ice to Eskimos for tuppence a bag.
MR TRULL: It’s a good tune. Worth pointing out the title’s the same as a track from Pink Floyd’s The Wall. Not much similarity other than a tone of loneliness. It’s the second song of the album to use “readies” for cash. I never expected to hear the word “slenderise” repeated in a Madness chorus! At first I thought it was “with slender eyes, for solely the lonely.”
MR YOUNG (laughs): Yeah, selling ladies on the notion that figure-holding girdles will help them maybe find a man. If he’s got a range in the undies business, this may be a cousin of Nice Man George! Which reminds me, I happen to have another telegram on my person, and it’s from Mr Thompson. (Pulls out telegram.)
MR TRULL: The guys in Madness have mobile phones, right? Couldn’t they text you?
MR YOUNG (ignores Mr Trull and reads): “I used to play cat and mouse with the police, street trading back in early ’70s with my Dad.” Ah yes, he’s reminiscing about hiding from the law when keeping lookout just as we assumed. There’s a bit more though, as Lee continues. “The underlying theme or message is: This is more about online fraud you hear so much about now, conning the vulnerable, the elderly, in society. Cold calls.” So that title is more about online phishing scams. He says he had some out-of-character emails from band members of his solo groups, asking for “funds for a sick friend,” etc. They had been hacked.
MR TRULL: Interesting. I wouldn’t have picked up on cyber crime from the lyrics, it’s implied if you think about broader meanings. “Sounds too good to be true, then it generally is.” I wonder what the line about guacamole means?
MR YOUNG: It so happens there’s a last word from Lee here. Sometimes drug dealers con their customers selling crushed-up avocado pip as the “holy ketamine”! So it’s all kinds of cons, this one, not just knickers down the market!
MR TRULL: I wonder, though, if the con artist isn’t lonely and desperate himself? It’s not just his frustrations in selling worthless twaddle, it’s his failure to find a relationship with anybody interested in what he’s got to offer as a person.
MR YOUNG: Could be, yeah. You know, I think this is Suggs’s best performance vocally on the album. The organ, guitar and sax in harmony counterpoint really move me into a saunter.
MR TRULL: This song first appeared on the limited edition Introducing CD that so many of us were denied from buying. Of course I got my hands on the track through various… means at one’s disposal. (Winks.) But I almost wish I hadn’t gone to the trouble, since it works so much better in the context of the album than as a teaser. Very well constructed and groovy. I give it four biscuits.
“The Law According to Dr. Kippah” by M. Barson/L. Thompson begins to play.
MR YOUNG: Oooh, now this one’s different. Thommo going off in new directions. The train noise at the beginning and end is the North London Line running through Hampstead.
MR TRULL: Oh, I’ve been there! Kenwood House, 2019.
MR YOUNG (sighs): Yes, very good, Mr American Tourister. (Resumes his train of thought. Train, get it? Oh blimey, now even the stage directions are doing the terrible jokes.) Lee says “Cast your mind back 40-odd years to the summer of love…” The famous Summer of Love was 1967, but from all the mid-’70s references, Lee must be talking about his teenage years, more like 1976. “Mr Blue Sky” by ELO. “Billy Don’t Be a Hero” by Paper Lace. “Dancing in the Moonlight” by Thin Lizzy… or a Genesis reference? Of course “Golden Years” by David Bowie.
MR TRULL: Speaking of which, Lee’s vocal style and the moody feel of this song are very Bowie to me. That Crunch song “Here He Comes” always reminded me of Bowie from the Scary Monsters “Ashes to Ashes” period, and this song even more so.
MR YOUNG: Also a bit like “I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)” by Genesis. Pre-’80s Genesis were renowned for the complexity of their song structures, and any true musician trying to master one of their songs can tell you the same of Madness.
MR TRULL: And that spoken word line, “What we have here is a failure to communicate,” that’s from Cool Hand Luke, a movie that would have resonated with young Lee. One other thing that’s really cool is how Suggs joins Lee on the chorus. Suggs never used to sing much when Lee does the lead, but their vocals blend so well on the choruses here and on “What on Earth Is It (You Take Me For)?”
MR YOUNG: I agree, it’s been a nice post-Carl progression in their sharing of vocal duties. And on this one the backing vocals from Fordie – LTSO boys in the house! It just works so well, the added power and style difference on the line “We will always be here looking up to you.” It adds poignance behind its delivery. It’s there within both the context of the lyrics, it’s Lee’s sentiment to older boys in the gangs of his youth culture, but the voice being Darren there represents that feeling we all have for the band as brothers. Lee’s woven together some wonderful memories of growing up and music and teenage coming of age, making love in the hottest summer on record, drinking ice cold beers on Hampstead Heath. It’s a real time capsule.
MR TRULL: What are all the other references about? Who are Dr Kippah and Enrico Sidoli?
MR YOUNG: Lee had a quick but interrupted drunken chat with me after Koko, and also mentioned some details on the song to DJ Mr Bennett. These are some unsolved murder cases from the time, real life tragedies. Enrico was a young boy who was bullied for being a bit different and beaten up at the local swimming pool in the summer of 1976. After he died from the assault, a wall of silence went up when locals interacted with the police investigation, and there were never any convictions. In 1986, an estate agent named Suzy Lamplugh went missing in the area her last scheduled client meeting was with a “Mr Kipper.” This was thought to be the nickname of a man convicted on separate murder and rape charges, but there was never enough evidence to charge him in the Lamplugh case. That’s what “The Law According to Dr. Kippah” means, the code of silence and miscarriages of justice.
MR TRULL: Oh, that’s heavy stuff.
MR YOUNG: It’s an epic murky song of criminal past, fights, gangs, music, young love and loss in the hot summer of 1976 and beyond. With just a nod of biblical reflection. Late in the album comes this song of dark conscience. With its length, emotional moral complexity, and the weight of the years on its narrative, I think this is the “Liberty of Norton Folgate” moment of the new record.
MR TRULL (nods): You’ve convinced me to score it five biscuits. After all, this being the end of Act III, it is the appropriate placement for the shattering climax. And next comes the denouement.
MR YOUNG: That’s right, we’re getting very near the end. What time is it, Donald?
MR TRULL (after a beat): SHOWTIME!
THE COMPÈRE (over a creepy organ melody and audience chatter): And so ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, we come to the epilogue. They say all clouds have a silver lining. Will our hero be saved? Who will have the courage to stand and fight?
MR YOUNG: Eerie fairground sound. Always love this within the Madness sound however it comes, even in this short slice. Is our friendly Compère really Martin Freeman… or is he a Skrull?
“Run for Your Life” by C. Foreman begins to play. Both gentlemen sit agog as thrashing war drums herald droning sirens and jet engines, then Suggs begins to rap plaintive declarations through a bullhorn.
MR TRULL (dismayed): Oh my God holy crap what is HAPPENING? I – I’m scared, Jon!
MR YOUNG (grins): It’s not a Rubber Soul cover, eh? Keep calm and carry on, mate, it’s just Chrissy Boy blowing off some more steam. This time widening his lens beyond COVID to take in conspiracy hotspots at large: chemtrails, monkeypox, global warming, brain chips, the nuclear doomsday clock, AI technofear, state control censorship, all the tinhat favourites.
MR TRULL: Those list-reciting verses are styled like a dark parody of Billy Joel’s awful “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”DNA! Vaccinate! What else do I have to say?
MR YOUNG (chuckles): Pigbag percussion and sax on the intro. Also Hawaii 5-0 speedy bongo. The cadence of the “Ruuuun for your life” chorus reminds me of “Highway to Hell,” a Foreman Showtime standard.
MR TRULL: You know what that chorus makes me think of? Peter Gabriel, circa “Games Without Frontiers.” Or Brian Eno and David Byrne. Even better, some of those Talking Heads songs from Fear of Music with aggressive primal chants and complicated polyrhythmic stuff going on. Not a flavor I ever expected to hear in Madness.
MR YOUNG: Musically this is layered and instruments come and go for short bursts. For instance, there’s a lovely piano phrase for a few short seconds about a minute in and nowhere else in the song, as later it’s organ sounds. It also strangely echoes “Mutants in Mega City One” by The Fink Brothers, a.k.a. Suggs and Chas. Every time it gets to “The enemy is past the gate” I want to yell “The mutants have entered the city!” (Laughs.) And I like the “censored” sound splice covering Chris’s worry over the explicit lyrics tag, added when Suggs dropped the album’s second F-bomb. I chuckle too at the robot AI voice bits. Does AI-P45 sound like any Star Wars robots, by the way?
MR TRULL: You mean droids. Nah, sounds more like Kanye or Cher. First Madness song with autotune? (Pauses.) Wait, forgot about “Sorry.”
MR YOUNG: We’d all as soon forget about “Sorry.” But back to “Run for Your Life.” It depicts a fractured response to panic, which makes for a song that sounds very little like the live Madness band. Live the brass section carry much more of the performance of this one. Those are all strengths. It’s a wake-up call of a tune. If you’ve fallen down any conspiracy rabbit holes, or got depressed over the state of the world, this song’s a remedy! It‘s a lot of fun.
MR TRULL: I have to say, at first I was not into the song at all because it’s so weird and different. But now I’m starting to like it… because it’s so weird and different. This level of raw creative energy deserves four biscuits. That chorus should make a hell of a singalong at live gigs.
MR YOUNG: I was dancing around the house with it running about mock-screaming with my 5-year-old stepdaughter. It’s one for the kids. Look out, look out, they’re coming to get you! Thanks for the panic antidote, Chris.
“Set Me Free (Let Me Be)” by C. Foreman begins to play.
MR YOUNG: After all that ruckus, we needed this one to cool down. A downtrodden wish for release leading into the final song. Lockdown again, but about the personal separation of longing to be with your loved one, an updated “Missing You.” This would have fitted on Can’t Touch Us Now. Shades of “Good Times,” “Don’t Let Them (Catch You Crying).” Chris’s lyrics talk about a “ghost town,” which could be a nod to The Specials. Considering the album is dedicated to Terry and all.
MR TRULL: We mentioned Roxy Music for “Is There Anybody Out There?” but this one is totally Bryan Ferry. “4BF” all the way. Super suave and debonair. It’s a real showcase for Mark. I feel like we haven’t talked enough about Bedders, but he’s always money in the bank. The funky bass owns this song.
MR YOUNG: Yeah, the bass grooves and percussion on this are near jazzy. Maybe it’s one lockdown song too many, if I’m honest. On its own it’s not been one I go to much, but still a lot to love. It is a nice performance from Suggs, backed by the talented Spider J. His vocals so soulful. (Strikes a dramatic pose and starts singing.)Spider-Fan, I’m a Spider-Fan! He does whatever a Potato 5 man can!
MR TRULL (sighs and speaks to audience): Tsk. Poor Tom Holland must be ashamed to be one of these Limeys.
MR YOUNG (resumes undeterred): From his backing on “My Girl II” to the extra dimension he added at the end of “Good Times,” I’ve enjoyed what he brings to the mix. Now for his third Madness album appearance, he once again helps deepen the song toward Motown or Sam Cooke era music. That just finishes off things so sweet, much like General Public did on Keep Moving. When I spoke to him at The Big One, Spider agreed that Suggs promises space for vocalists generously when joining the recording process. He compliments our main man well on lighter tracks like this.
MR TRULL: What, no telegram?
MR YOUNG (shrugs): I only chatted to him.
MR TRULL: Okay. To follow up on the vocals, one reviewer suggested that this song was a semi-instrumental – which I thought was exciting, because when was the last good instrumental on a Madness album? “The Opium Eaters”? Of course, turns out it’s not an instrumental at all, and I’m actually glad, since Suggs sounds so great here. Bedders and Suggs for the win. And Spider too. Set them free, let them be granted four biscuits.
“In My Street” by G. McPherson begins to play.
MR TRULL: And now, the end is near and we have reached the final curtain. With a tune we’ve heard for several years now.
MR YOUNG: Funny thing, “it’s just in your mind” and “not until judgement day,” sang Suggs in a more dramatic second arrangement of the song for its orchestrated Kenwood performance, roughly one year before lockdown woes began. Suggs was psychic about where the world was headed and how this album project would end up being presented! A street sketch closer to the grime and depravity of “Neighbourhood” by Space than the cosy picture of “Our House” to my ear. Suggs says The Kinks’ “Dead End Street” was a big inspiration.
MR TRULL: The chorus reminds me of Sesame Street, rhyming with “the people you meet.”
MR YOUNG: I think that’s on purpose. Like a kids’ song taken to the adult world. Suggs has said the song is about the sentimental attachment you have to the places where you grew up, while also being honest about the bad and nasty things you’re leaving behind. It’s about feeling pleased that you’ve moved on. Which he has, having sold his house at some point in the last five years.
MR TRULL: Brings a whole new meaning to “Something tells you that you’ve got to move away from it.”
MR YOUNG: Maybe the next version will be slagging off Dame Helen Mirren and the other folk around his villa in Italy! And there’s plenty of great recognisable Thommo sax on the album, but listen how he really breaks loose in the latter parts of this song. The solo during “it’s all in your mind” and the “when you’re having fun” bridge run wild like an escaping bronco, and then settle into the more classic Madness sound.
MR TRULL: I don’t have much to say about this one. It struck me as disappointing when I heard it at Kenwood House. Which is weird for me, because I’m typically thrilled to hear a new Madness song played before release. But “In My Street” didn’t excite me much. It works well enough as a closer, but ranking as my least favorite on a very strong album, it earns only three biscuits.
MR YOUNG: The song has evolved across live versions. It brings us full circle those five years since album work began. As an endpiece on the LP, it concludes this comedy play by saying all it’s all been a mad dream. Madness is all in the mind once again. And from the minds of Madness, we have new music. The 13th album is complete and ready for judgement day.
MR TRULL: I say it’s the 12th album. The Madness was a side project.
MR YOUNG (considers): Call it 12 ½.
MR TRULL (crosses arms): Hmph. Aside from that, I say amen, brother.
THE COMPÈRE: Ladies and gentlemen, this is the end. (Dramatic pause.) Of the beginning. (The curtain falls.)
The two gentlemen rise and vigorously applaud, whooping and cheering.
MR YOUNG (leaping about): Brilliant! Absolutely marvelous!
MR TRULL (fist-pumping): D’you hear that? “The end of the beginning!” Ooooohh!
MR YOUNG (wide-eyed): That can only mean one thing! Deluxe Edition!
MR TRULL (suddenly gone calm): Well, not necessarily, Jon. I think that could be intended metaphorically, subverting the cyclical nature of the Madness dialectic vis-a-vis the… aw shit YES, I wants me them bonus tracks!
MR YOUNG (yelling): Release the Cricklewood 5!!!
MR TRULL (double yelling): The White Board Sessions Volume Two!
MR YOUNG (mock hysterical): Minehead Revisited: “HOF of the Absurd!!”
MR TRULL (frothing at the mouth and experiencing a neuro-cardiac episode): Hey now, what about our damn frickin’ delayed American tour in 2024, by God! USA! USA! USA! And play Coachella! And Supernova! And the Super Bowl halftime show! And, and, and a CD/Blu-ray of the Kenwood House show so I can finally hear the damn orchestra properly! USA! USA!Aaauggghhh!!!
Our two fanboys collapse back onto their ice cream and beer-stained seats, spent and wheezing. The empty theatre in London has become just that, a dark and empty expanse devoid of sound, save for the faint crackle of the needle repeating at the end of vinyl side four runout groove.
MR YOUNG: Phew. Now then… what do you think, mate? How would you sum up the album?
MR TRULL (stunned): I… I’m overwhelmed. It’s a total shock to the system, absorbing all this incredible new material all at once. (Pauses.) I don’t know what to say. I’m feeling verklempt. (Sniffles and wipes eyes.) You go ahead, make your closing remarks first.
MR YOUNG: Sure, I’ll jump in. (Mulls for a moment.) Madness have always written Nutty Sounds and still do, but this album is filled with mature song structures to be taken to heart. Chris has pushed caustic lyrical wit nearer to Eminem proportions in his growth as a lyrical songwriter. Whilst the atmospherics and characterisation that Suggs and then Thommo have painted within their tunes are equal parts whimsy and mood, with added weightier reflection. Woody has enveloped mystery into his benevolent objective moral tale, as does Lee’s longest, deepest, darkest missive looking back on his past. Finally, Barson ranges from light caper through inner sorrowful longing to the stark judgemental. There is just a little more bile than Madness ever put into lyrics before on this LP – such are the times, such is age. Still funny, still singalong, with light touches abounding from upbeat tunes to slower, spookier ones. and some with emotional resonance. The musical varieties all have precedence in their musicianship, but together form an array of album tracks for different tastes and moods of Madness.
MR TRULL: Well said.
MR YOUNG: This is really something new. It’s older musicians, using the latest technology to join in supporting each other’s varied approaches and levels of pathos. It feels to me like they know what they are all doing and brought complete songs rather than demos to Cricklewood. Or that Mr Glasbey deserves a little bit more credit than engineer. It’s accomplished Madness in every sense. And what a great supporting cast of contributors. Spider J and Grace we’ve mentioned, and Darren Fordham. Mike, Steve and Joe on brass, the strings, of course Mez Clough. I’ve not mentioned Mez and I need to, the dude was awesome at my wedding! Need to make sure he knows how much I appreciate what he’s added with his percussion and –
Suddenly an apelike, bespectacled Telegram Boy lumbers into the box, wearing a disheveled, old-fashioned uniform from Scurfield Wireless Services.
TELEGRAM BOY (in a thick Geordie accent, rolling his R’s like bowling balls): Whey aye man, I present to you, one freshly prepared three-headed penguin. (Proffers a telegram.) Oh!! My mistake, it’s actually a telegram for a Mr Young.
TELEGRAM BOY: Nae problem, Jon. (Leans over and whispers conspiratorially, whilst looking left and right.) Don’t forget to order the Special Christmas Waffle Clonk with optional strap-on gopher restrictor.
MR YOUNG: Right, will do.
TELEGRAM BOY (nods and taps his nose with a pleased wink): See ya later. (Exits.)
MR TRULL (confused): What was that all about?
MR YOUNG (looks up from unfolding the telegram): Hm? Oh, never mind him. Barmy as a loon. (Shrugs and reads telegram.) Ah perfect, it’s from Mez. “I’m so glad you dig it! I think it’s a strong record with a real identity.” Well that’s good to hear. (Folds telegram away into his vest pocket.) Now where was I? Oh yes, pathos. That much-talked about element of Madness has never been so big-world-stage manifested before to this extent across an LP. But twisting the world into tidy song capsules remains the game lyrically, and there is still plenty of personal soul level too.
MR TRULL: Totally.
MR YOUNG: There’s a sense of maturity and grandeur, with the Freeman introductions and artwork, to market this into being Folgate’s cousin nestling in your album collection. While there aren’t any large-trousered houses on display here, there is grey-better-day-beating triumph. There, that’ll do for my waffling on. Your turn, Donald. You going to score the overall album forty-leven lard biscuits?
MR TRULL (chuckles): That’s about how I feel right now! I love it to pieces. But I don’t want to do any more grading and report cards. There’s no point in making comparative judgments of “better” or “best” compared to their past body of work, not only because of recency bias, but more because rankings are meaningless when you come across something as important as this album. It deserves more than empty fan wank.
MR YOUNG (intrigued): Go on.
MR TRULL: I mean, I know I’m not the most credible critic in the Madness blogosphere. I’m sure people think I’m a softy sycophant who waxes on about everything the band puts out regardless. I am, after all, guilty of having praised “Ooh Do U Fink U R?” as the song of the year, right? (Laughs.) So I know I’m the boy who cried wolf when I say that Theatre of the Absurd presents C’est La Vie is essentially my platonic ideal of a Madness album. Certainly not in an absolute sense. Maybe not “the” best Madness album. But it’s at least “a” perfect Madness album.
MR YOUNG (placing a hand on his companion’s shoulder): Hey, from kiss-arse to curmudgeonous grinch, we all have our place being fan/critics of this band. “A” perfect Madness album you say? I like that. A perfect Madness album, from late in their career. The sun is descending and the light is still bright.
MR TRULL: And the only thing I can definitively say it’s “better than” is that it’s better than what I was expecting. We start to accept that the band’s creative heights are behind them, and we’ll content ourselves with whatever minor dribblings they put out. Then somehow they craft something as astounding as this, with everyone in top form, and we just weren’t ready for it. At least I know I wasn’t! Madheads worldwide are on the cusp discovering of something very special. An incipient tsunami is about to hit our fan community, and I’m so excited to see the reaction.
MR YOUNG: Yeah, same here! For me having sat through this with you, now it’s the knowing that many many more out there are discovering different favourite tracks. Those little personally chosen joyous moments of looping Madness. (Grins a satisfied grin at the thought.) On that note, we need to take this theatrical absurdity one more step beyond…
Waving their hands in shimmying motions and making falsetto “doodoodle-oooh” noises like Wayne and Garth, the two absurdist fanboys break the fourth wall.
You blink. Yes, YOU there.
Our two gentlemen, their dapper stage wardrobe replaced by their actual ratty old Madness T-shirts and hoodies, are looking at you right now, straight through a glowing red vortex that pierces your screen. They lean forward and peer down their noses at you, clearly skeptical about your own fashion choices today. They follow your eyes as you read along with this, silently waiting until you reach the end of this descriptive paragraph, for you see now they are about to speak directly to you when they say…
MR YOUNG: Hello readers. Thank you ever so kindly for reading this far. So sorry for inducing all those yawns and eyerolls.
MR TRULL (mockingly): “Woahhh, sooo boah-wing. TL;DR.” It’s okay, everyone. You can go search Madness reviews on TikTok after this.
MR YOUNG: So dear reader, we ask what are YOUR favourites then? Oh look Donald, that one’s a Barso fangirl, she’s on her 37th play of “Hour of Need” already. Ha ha, look at that big bloke dancing to “If I Go Mad.”
MR TRULL (gasps): Man, looking out at the sea of all y’all’s confused faces out there, the godlike rush of omniscience, I feel like… She-Hulk! (In his glasses is briefly reflected a skinhead with a spiderweb tattooed face putting a Doctor Martin size 9 through the top of his stereo system.) Hmmm. Looks like Nigel there’s not a fan of “Round We Go,” Jon.
MR YOUNG (spots another problem): Erm hello, hello? Yes you dear. You’ve got the vinyl on the wrong speed, love. (Aside to Mr Trull.) Some of them are increasingly infirm, you know.
MR TRULL (gazing into the abyss and chanting mystically): Romper, stomper, bomper boo. Tell me, tell me, tell me do. Madhead Mirror, tell me today, did all my friends have a fun first play? I see Poly, and Adam, Iain, and Bobby. There’s Dicka, and Derek, Al, Al, and Laurie. All listening to Theatre of the French Thing when they should go to bed. All sitting around their living room, off their heads…
MR YOUNG: Quite the load of busy eardrums out there in Maddieland. When you can take a break from repeating the album, please do tell MIS more of what you yourselves think about it. Email staff@madness-mis.com. The best comments, rate it or slate it, will be used in our MIS email fanzine. And there’s running now an album-related prize competition open until the end of the year for the best chinwag we read. Right, now we’d best crack on and finish our own appraisal here.
The two gentlemen “doodoodle-oooh” to cosmically restore the ruptured fourth wall, give or take a brick stolen by some more dubious members of the fan base likely to be visiting a jeweler’s window before the week is out. The interdimensional portal closes and their three-piece suits rematerialize.
MR YOUNG: Well Donald, apologies for interrupting your wrap-up for that prolonged nonsense. Here, I’ll set you back on track with a segue. Ahem. (In a loud and stilted voice.) This interlude of ours has been, erm, conceptual, eh? (Nudges.)
MR TRULL (catches the drift): Got it! (Straightens collar and resumes monologue.) So yeah. Everyone is going to call Toe-Tap CLV a concept album, and it is. But for me, the concept is not post-pandemic trauma or 21st century horrors or whatever. Those are just the stage dressing. The real concept of the album is failures of communication and lasting bonds between friends. We’ve heard how the tensions of COVID nearly split the band up. But when they got back together in Cricklewood to write new songs, all the hostility fell away and they created something magical. That’s a lesson for us all. It moves me to know that that oddball British band I latched onto when as a 13-year-old kid is still here today in such full artistic power. Instead of breaking up in anger or carrying on in mediocrity, they are still capable of magnificent work. All I can say is thank you, Madness. Thank you.
MR YOUNG: I second every word of that. You silver-tongued mad poet laureate, you. (Looks at watch.) So what do you reckon? Ready to go again?
MR TRULL: I think it’s time, Captain Jon. Let’s do it.
The gentlemen fanboys shake hands and nod, like the Dynamic Duo in the opening titles of the Batman TV show. Each cups hands to his mouth, takes a deep breath, and starts heckling the empty stage.
MR TRULL (bellowing): More! More! Trot your furry-ass feet back out here, Bilbo Baggins!
MR YOUNG (screaming): Maaaartin! Respond, Responder! We want more Madness!
BOTH: Mad-NESS! (Clapping and stomping thrice in unison.) Mad-NESS! (Clapping and stomping thrice in unison.) Mad-NESS!
Their shouts subside as the house lights go down. Sound effects of audience murmurs and applause. The Compère strides onstage in a shimmering gold lamé tuxedo with matching bow tie.
THE COMPÈRE (as a languid piano refrain tinkles and the orchestra tunes up): Mr Beckett sir, your audience awaits…
With special thanks to Ian Taylor, Mark Charlesworth and Garry Scurfield
Being a Glorified YouTube Reaction Video Wrought as a Shambolic Three-Act Mockery of a Dramaturgical Pompfest Upon the Premiere of Theatre of the Absurd presents C’est La Vie
Conceived, Written and Performed by Donald Trull and Jonathan Young
SPOILER WARNING! The following review contains in-depth, track-by-track discussion of the first half of the new Madness long-playing record. If you have not yet had the privilege of listening to said album, and do not wish to have its parameters coloured in at the edges of scribbled margins by a couple of chin-stroking hack fans dancing overgleefully in their broad britches, please do proceed no further. We welcome your return after your unsullied mind has properly digested this most thrilling magnum opus.
Dramatis Personae
MR YOUNG, an English Madness aficionado MR TRULL, an American Madness aficionado THE COMPÈRE, a popular English thespian and Hobbit TELEGRAM BOY
Scene: Some dark theatre in London. At centre stage rests a single elevated balcony box, framed by red velvet curtains. Within the regal luxury box are sat two middle-aged gentlemen of refined bearing, clad in old-fashioned three-piece suits festooned with Madness lapel pins.
MR TRULL (impatiently checking his pocket watch): What’s taking so long?
MR YOUNG: Patience, dear boy. The show will begin soon enough.
MR TRULL: I sure hope so. Can you believe it’s been seven years since the last one? That’s how long their whole first run lasted before the ’86 breakup!
MR YOUNG: Indeed. Pity how the pandemic delayed the best laid plans.
MR TRULL: Man, stupid COVID. But don’t forget, they originally said it was gonna premiere by the end of 2019, as part of the Madness XL anniversary celebration (scoffs). They could have got it out just before the pandemic if they’d stayed on schedule.
MR YOUNG: Perhaps so. But that would have been a much different work. These new songs have been enriched by the band’s lockdown experiences and all the time they’ve spent together in the Cricklewood rehearsal space. From what we heard at Koko, the new songs are bloody brilliant.
MR TRULL (mockingly): “Oh Koko this, Koko that…” You Brits are so damn lucky, you know? Getting all these exclusive preview shows and new tours every time you turn around? In America we get diddly squat. All I’ve got to go on is the preview EP songs and The Get Up! But yeah, I am awfully impressed. And with the theatrical act structure and all that, I think this thing is going to be amazing.
MR YOUNG: Quite agree. At first I thought the lengthy title was a bit much, but I’ve come to like it. Harkens back to Madness Presents The Rise and Fall, and it’s in the grandiose style of The Liberty of Norton Folgate.
MR TRULL: Me, I’m happy because I wanted the album to be called Theatre of the Absurd. I was disappointed when Chris announced it was going to be C’est La Vie, but the portmanteau makes a fine compromise.
MR YOUNG: I see “Theatre of the Absurd” as the latest Madness alter ego, following on the Invaders and the Dangermen. Like a troupe of music hall troubadours, a fictional Sgt. Pepper identity putting on a make-believe show.
MR TRULL: Remains to be see what the fans will settle on calling the album for short. What do you reckon?
MR YOUNG (considers): Well, it abbreviates as TOTAPCLV, so maybe we’ll be saying TOTAP. Especially if it’s a real toe-tapper. Get it?
MR TRULL (groans): Yeah, more likely we’ll end up with CLV. Which, if you mumble it quickly, kinda sounds like C’est La Vie. Oh, and I’m looking forward to the Martin Freeman intros.
MR YOUNG: You know, he’s been a longtime fan of Madness and vocal in his support. Even turned up interviewed in the Gogglebox DVD set.
MR TRULL: Not to mention he’s collaborated with my other favorite UK artist, Paul Weller. My dude Bilbo is living the dream.
MR YOUNG: Well, he is a dedicated Mod, just without the parka. In his spoken word bits, I expect he’ll be putting his Everyman spin on the Chas Smash MC role, something like Charlie Higson did in The Get Up! Martin Freeman certainly has gone far since The Office and…
The house lights go down. Sound effects of audience murmurs and applause.
MR TRULL: Oh, it’s about to begin!
The Compère strides onstage in a shimmering gold lamé tuxedo with matching bow tie.
THE COMPÈRE (as a languid piano refrain tinkles and the orchestra tunes up): Mr Beckett sir, your audience awaits…
MR YOUNG (whispers): Quaint music box sounding backing by Mike, love it.
The curtain raises, revealing a backcloth painted with a nuclear explosion. Suddenly the band appear, frozen in a single transfixed tableau. Beset all around by drones, robot attacks, missiles, incoming meteor strikes, the band members display varied expressions of panic, all save Suggs, who grins brandishing slightly damaged crockery. A fog of fracking gas leaks across the stage while a newspaper flickers aflame, illuminating the walls in the dark and near-empty theatre. This is all reflected only within the eyes of our two shocked onlookers.
MR YOUNG (whoops): Cor Blimey Guvnor, them Maddy boys dun been through the wars and no mistakin. Ohh look lord luv a rubber duck. (Cups hand to side of his mouth and stage whispers.) Erm… Mr Playwright sir, I‘m English, I‘m not Dick Van Dyke.
MR TRULL (aside): Sorry, I went full Pygmalion there. I’ll dial it back, Jon.
“Theatre of the Absurd” by G. McPherson begins to play from the loudspeakers. The distressed performers remain static throughout. Our focus remains on the gentlemen in the luxury box, lit by a spotlight.
MR YOUNG: Ah, this is nice way to set the stage, as it were.
MR TRULL: Yeah, it’s better suited as a sort of overture than a finale, isn’t it? Pulling the “We Are London” duty for this album.
MR TRULL: Definitely got that Sgt. Pepper feel with the “Day in the Life” orchestra fugue, and some “Penny Lane” brass. And Suggs is going for a bit of John Lennon phrasing, the way he draws out “absur-ur-ur-ur-urrrd… ur-ur-ur-urrrddd…“
MR YOUNG: I like that bit. Brings in that sorrow of playing to an empty audience from The Get Up, the weirdness during lockdown.
MR TRULL: Remember they actually billed this as “The Cruellest Comedy” in The Get Up? Obviously they realized “Theatre of the Absurd” is a much cooler title.
MR YOUNG: Lovely little trumpet flourishes from Joe near to the end here. A very strings-led tune that grew in arrangement from the first lockdown gig with that string quartet. Listen closely at the end of the second minute, you can hear someone strike up their zippo lighter twice, just to add to the atmospheric absurdity. So how many lard biscuits you reckon, then?
MR TRULL (considers): I’ll give it four biscuits out of five. A solid opening number.
“If I Go Mad” by G. McPherson begins to play.
MR TRULL (fist pumps): Yeah! Love this one!
MR YOUNG: This funky tune has been around and toured for a while now. It’s already started to get a good grip on the fan base, even if some of the crowds have been singing the chorus as “five go mad” and even “Fargo Man”! (Laughs.)
MR TRULL: Yeah, I notice they’re enunciating the “If I…” more clearly on the studio version. You know, I wasn’t so impressed with the first new songs that surfaced after “Bullingdon Boys,” like “Before We Was We” and “In My Street.” But when I heard this one on The Get Up! livestream, I immediately loved it. This is everything I want in a Madness song.
MR YOUNG: They all really gel on this one, don’t they? You’ve got the big rhythm laid down by Woody, and Mez’s unique additional percussion strongly following Bedders, there’s brass stings and guitar stabs and even a Lee twanger! But it’s got stops and wonderful minimalism in parts too. And Suggs is enjoying himself. Here again he’s working through his frustrations as a performer denied his stage during the pandemic, finally able to release that pent-up energy.
MR TRULL: When he says “If I go mad without you,” that can be interpreted as “without the audience,” or “without my career,” in addition to “the girl I know.” Because “we all need the money and we all miss the show!” And at first I thought Suggs was saying “we all need the raise,” but I know the British say “pay rise” instead of “pay raise.” So it’s “we all need the readies”? What’s that, like horsetrack betting forms?
MR YOUNG: Nah, that means money. There’s a load of English references in the lyrics. O Lucky Man is a 1973 comedy film. “Where have you been?” and “The crooked man” come from nursery rhymes. Makes you think of Suggs sitting round watching old films and children’s shows on telly, bored off his arse. Then for the middle eight, he dredges up a passage from his and Carl’s old B-side “Call Me.”
MR TRULL: Love that part, and how the frenetic energy compares to the sedated original. Suggs manages to get the lyrics out more coherently here than on The Get Up: “Here’s to all the fishes with no dish!” (Laughs.) But one part that was better on the livestream was the intro. I loved how it led off with Woody beating the shit out of his drums like Dave Grohl. On the album it starts with the harmony vocals going “Ooooh ooooh,” I guess fitting with the song’s train theme.
MR YOUNG: Sounds a bit like the intro on Big Mountain’s “Baby I Love Your Way,” too. But yeah, great track, and it’s always nice to have a Madness song use the actual word “mad.”
MR TRULL: Five biscuits from me!
“Baby Burglar” by M. Barson/L. Thompson begins to play.
MR YOUNG: This is another of Lee’s songs reflecting on the juvenile delinquency of his past. But tackling a more serious message than “Land of Hope and Glory” and “Idiot Child,” here he considers what might have happened if he had gone beyond petty crime instead of turning his life around.
MR TRULL: I’ve heard different accounts of what this song is about. One interview said it was inspired by Lee discovering a teenage thief invading his home, but the song references murder. So I’m guessing it’s various ideas composited together?
MR YOUNG: Yeah. The title comes from Thommo’s experiences at reform school. Older boys mocked newcomers at the institution by jeering, “Here come the baby burglars.” The murder case refers to a Berkshire police officer who died after teenage thieves stealing a quad bike dragged him off down a road for a mile. “In a moment of madness.”
MR TRULL: Whoa, that’s intense.
MR YOUNG: It follows the tradition of spooky ghost ska songs and ska courtroom songs, like Prince Buster’s “JudgeDread” and the Specials’ “Stupid Marriage,” with the judge sentencing the rude boy character. The lyrics for this always were a struggle for Suggs on live versions, so I’m glad to finally hear it all with clarity.
MR TRULL: I think the recording works better than on The Get Up! I prefer this ending with Suggs repeating “Baby burglar…” I rate it four biscuits.
MR YOUNG: The new fade ending is fine. But I will be reinstating the brass section Batman theme ending on my own personal listens as I like it.
MR TRULL: Batman theme? Don’t think I ever heard that version.
MR YOUNG: I’ll send you a link.
THE COMPÈRE (over a melodramatic cue of piano and organ): Surrounded on all sides, in an increasingly difficult situation, is there still the possibility of escape?
MR YOUNG: Looking for tension-building for your film soundtrack? Ring M. Barson, he’s your man.
“C’est La Vie” by M. Barson begins to play.
MR TRULL: After that overflowing cornucopia of a Prologue, the show proper begins! Is it coincidence that the first three songs are the previews from The Get Up? We’re in terra incognita from here on out.
MR YOUNG: Pushed off with a raucous blast from Lee and horror film organ from Mike.
MR TRULL (ponders): I get heavy Ian Dury vibes from this one. It’s like the kind of song Ian would write about the mess we’re in today, if he was still around. With foreign phrases in the chorus, like “Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick.”
MR YOUNG: I quite like the French bits. Not so keen on Suggs’s vocals on the verses. It’s strange the lead single may be my least favourite track. But the spooky chorus is strong. You just have to get there for the song to really get into gear.
MR TRULL: Myself, I give this song another five biscuits. Instant classic. That chorus is an earworm, for sure. Even if you have no idea what the words mean, as Suggs claims he doesn’t himself. By now we’ve all looked up the translation: “I’m not doing it, that’s life. That’s how it’s going to be.”
MR YOUNG: I’m still not sure what Mike’s on about. What is it he does not want to do? Is it his perspective on the rat race? In reference to the pandemic or the war? Or Brexit? Any ideas?
MR TRULL (laughs): Okay, I’ll give it a go. It reminds me of another pop song with an infamously confusing refusal in the chorus: “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That).” Everyone always wants to know “What would he not do?” But as Meat Loaf always had to explain, each verse says exactly what he meant. He’d never forget her, he’d never forgive himself, he’d never stop dreaming of her… all the things like Rick Astley was never gonna do.
MR YOUNG: Ah, right!
MR TRULL: So following Meat Loaf’s lesson, let’s look at what Barson says in every verse before “Je ne le fais pas.” It’s “stand up tall against the wall, and one by one you all shall fall.” Which might mean a literal order to go before a firing squad for execution, or figuratively surrendering your freedom and dignity. I think that’s what he’s making a declaration of resistance against.
MR YOUNG: Sure. Brilliant. Why the use of French, though?
MR TRULL: Who knows, maybe Mike thought “c’est la vie” was a cool phrase and worked backwards from there? Or it could be the character lives in a totalitarian state in danger of being killed for speaking out, so he protests quietly in another language so the fascists won’t understand. Or maybe he fantasizes about escaping to freedom in France, like the Walter Mitty daydreaming about Africa in Barson’s song on Norton Folgate. Remember, Act I is supposed to be about the possibility of escape.
MR YOUNG: Nice thoughts indeed, Mr Trull. One other point about the French. In Suggs’s one-man show What a King Cnut, he sings the Chelsea football terrace song that goes, “Celery, Celery, if she don’t c*m, I’ll tickle her bum, with a lump of celery…” Now that he’s singing “C’est La Vie,” some Chelsea fans are likely to misinterpret this tune entirely!
MR TRULL (laughs): Love it! « Celery ! C’est comme ça que, elle derrière ! » That’s straight out of Ted Lasso. Okay, let’s see what’s next…
“What on Earth Is It (You Take Me For?)” by C. Foreman/L. Thompson begins to play.
MR YOUNG: Ooh errr missus, the song formerly known as “Pussy Galore” and “British Film Standards.” You can trust a Foreman/Thompson tune to have strong guitar backing and saucy sax swirls. It’s a right old Thompson satire, this. Sheer nuttiness. He’s having a kerfuffle with the television set!
MR TRULL: Oh, I thought it was about the depravity of modern life in general, but you say it’s specifically about TV?
MR YOUNG: Yeah, it’s loaded with British television references. “Watershed” means the 9:00 PM hour when adult programmes can start broadcasting. “Families at War” describes the violence, sex and scandal in most early-evening soap operas these days. Cucumber was a Channel 4 drama about sex crime and 21st century gay life. Abigail and Brittany are conjoined twins from a documentary series. “Take the money/open the box” was a catchphrase from a 1950s game show, Take Your Pick, where contestants decided on their prize of choice while the audience heckled them. And “Matron!” is…
MR TRULL: Wait, I understood that reference! Steve Rogers moment! That’s from the Carry On films, where there was always the prudish, middle-aged Matron lady. And they yelled for her when something risqué was going on.
MR YOUNG: Exactly. And “gawping at the dot” refers to how the picture on old cathode ray tube TVs turned to a glowing dot in the middle of the screen when you shut them off. Lee’s pointing out the hypocrisy of people complaining about all the brain-rotting filth on television, when all they need to do is take responsibility and stop watching it. He even pulls out the first F-word ever on a Madness record! Hate what’s on TV? “Just pull the effing plug out from its connector.”
MR TRULL: You know, it’s funny. As much as Suggs curses at every live gig, a studio F-bomb at this late stage comes as no meaningful shock.
MR YOUNG: True. So what do you think?
MR TRULL: Oh, I love it! Four biscuits. I can now say I actually comprehend the song, thanks to your telly intel. Perhaps railing against television is passé these days, with the medium dying out in favor of streaming and YouTube. But that’s okay, since TV still sucks. The only comparison I could draw to the song was Street Fighter 6, which has had me glued to my PlayStation these past few months. Thommo’s repeating sax riff sounds just like the “Ball Block Blitz” minigame, only in a lower key. Pretty sure that’s just a coincidence.
MR YOUNG: Well maybe Thommo will write a song about video game violence someday!
“Hour of Need” by M. Barson begins to play.
MR TRULL: Wow. This is something special. It’s so… intimate.
MR YOUNG (nodding): Mike’s been writing about male vulnerability since “My Girl”’s relationship confusion was so well-stated. Following the sweet “You Are My Everything” on Can’t Touch Us Now, we now have this sweeping beautiful song. It’s adorable. He’s the Brian Wilson of Madness, putting his whole heart into songs. Suggs performs this well, and excited the fangirl front row at Koko with his conveyance of “Hold me so closely.” Could there be a hint of illness in the lyrics, did he need comfort when he caught COVID back in 2021?
MR TRULL: It makes me think of growing old, too. At their age, of course Barson and Suggs both have thoughts about aging and the need for comfort and ease in their dotage.
MR YOUNG: The song is universal and doesn’t really need specifics. It’s a deserving song transcending into the ranks of blanket feeling songs such as R.E.M.’s “Everybody Hurts” and The Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows.”
MR TRULL: Oh, I like the comparison to “Everybody Hurts.” Definitely. By that token, it also fits alongside “One” by U2 and “Black” by Pearl Jam. Another thing that strikes me is the strings. The melody is largely carried by pizzicato plucking, which for a lot of other pop bands would seem like a schmaltzy move. But then you remember “It Must Be Love” is all about that pizzicato. No treble.
MR YOUNG: Er, right. The opening keyboards are like Mike’s stab at Depeche Mode’s “Strangelove.” Then those strings come in, and bang, it’s Madness. It’s all made to seem so seamless in the musicianship that you can’t spotlight one element when atmosphere prevails so holistically.
MR TRULL: You could even consider “Hour of Need” a dark cousin to “It Must Be Love.” Through thick and thin, in sickness and in health. Five biscuits, easily.
MR YOUNG (earnestly): This emotionally moves me. I married this year. I heard this song at Koko and it resonated personally with me. When I compared notes after the concert, it turns out my wife had a similar transportation to a personal life moment with this tune. Proof we can all apply this to any emotional experience of coupled comfort or down distress of any kind. Go to this tune in your own hour of need. It will be there.
THE COMPÈRE (over a waltzing swirl of accordion and piano): The damsel in distress stands alone, with no one to defend her… No one.
MR YOUNG: Leftover material from “Le Grand Pantalon” takes us to continental Europe!
“Round We Go” by D. Woodgate begins to play.
MR YOUNG: And now for Woody’s lyric. (Listens.) Hey, it’s two gorgeous ballads back to back.
MR TRULL (after a pause): This is beautiful. Very much of a piece with his “Leon” and “Small World” from Oui Oui Si Si.
MR YOUNG: Woody has said this song is about a mother’s love for her narcissist son. She makes the difficult decision to stand back and let “God’s gift” make his mistakes, hoping life will teach him lessons. We’ve all been close to people in life and been unable to steer them, when judging their egos has become too much. It’s a judgemental, wisdom-based distance, for right or wrong.
MR TRULL: It puts me in the mind of “Waterloo Sunset” by The Kinks, with the up-and-down singsong melody. And the backing vocals are so excellent. I think that must be Woody’s wife, who sang on “Small World”?
MR YOUNG: She has a great voice. I believe she had done some music before. As a matter of fact, I’ve a telegram here from Woody on the very subject of what she added to the song. (Produces a telegram from his vest pocket and slips on reading spectacles.) I’ll read it out, it means a lot. Ahem… “The band’s version is true to the demo that I recorded years ago, however the backing vocals that Grace recorded transported the song to another level. Without her the song wouldn’t sound complete. The song originally didn’t have backing vocals, there was something missing. Grace came up with the parts, and it all fell into place. I love what she’s done, it’s a truly soulful performance.”
MR TRULL: Fascinating.
MR YOUNG: I love the triple cross vocals ending. It’s majestic, singing in a round. It soars. Suggs’s singing is brilliant and so is Grace’s. Woody’s fast drumming in the chorus is a powerful upward gear change. He’s contributed a song here with depth and a unique topic. I have to report this might be my favourite song on the album.
MR TRULL: Again, five biscuits for me. I’m giving out a lotta damn biscuits here. And you know “Round We Go” must be important, because it’s the only song on the program with an entire act unto itself. But the question remains, who is the damsel in distress? Is it the narcissist’s mother? Or are the Martin Freeman speeches just a bunch of nonsense for absurdity’s sake?
The curtain falls and the Compère takes the stage.
THE COMPÈRE: There will now be a whopping great intermission, during which small ice creams in very large boxes will be sold. Let’s be honest, most readers never got past the Prologue, and they may have all fled to Instagram already. And no, Mr Pseudo-Intellectual American, my spoken word pieces are not nonsense, thank you very much. We hope you will enjoy the remainder of the show.
Applause. A mellow lounge arrangement of “The Return of the Los Palmas 7” begins to play.
MR YOUNG (stands): Good, I’m off to have a wee.
MR TRULL (also stands): Wee wee, si si ja ja da da!
An earthquake erupted in Fort Monroe, Virginia, on September 14-17, 2023, and a contingent from Stateside Madness was there to bear witness. This year’s Supernova International Ska Festival proved to be one of the most significant ska music events ever mounted on American soil, and arguably the biggest and best. Among the frenzied throngs of party people were Poly Collins, Bobby Rubin and myself (Donald Trull) from the SSM admin crew. It was the first time for the three of us to meet up in person, and long overdue!
Fellowship of the Nutty!D. Trull, Bobby Rubin and Poly Collins
Our partner Laurie Alfaro was unable to make it because she was rocking out at Riot Fest in Chicago, although we had the pleasure of meeting SSM member Al L’Heureux, who’s a hell of a friendly guy. Charles Benoit was also in attendance, although I didn’t get the chance to say hello. And oh, what a weekend we had.
First off, Supernova is by far the most organized and best designed large-scale music festival I’ve ever attended. Just think about all the crappy hassles you usually have to deal with at a festival: nasty belligerent crowds, too much heat, long restroom lines, overpriced bad food, multiple stages forcing you to choose what to see and what to skip, and a general lack of civilized society. Supernova has got none of that drama. They have huge tents with shaded seating aplenty, abundant port-a-potties, good food trucks, and an eminently logical system of two stages side-by-side, so one band plays while the next band sets up for continuous music, and the audience doesn’t have to miss out on anyone on the bill. (Not to mention the two stages are set perpendicular to breezy Chesapeake Bay beach access.) And best of all, the Supernova crowd is uniformly joyful and laid-back, as if they’re actually there for the love of the music, and not determined foremost to get shitfaced drunk as rapidly as possible. Now that’s a refreshing change of pace.
On Friday, Bobby’s good friends The Skapones were one of the first bands to kick off the festival. Bobby could be found hanging out with Paul Willo and rest of the Skapones crew all weekend, and through their access he got to chill backstage with many of the Supernova artists. Other bands he particularly enjoyed included Adhesivo and The Untouchables. Poly seemed to like just about everything, but he was especially impressed with Catbite and Rude Girl Revue. Al gave props to The Skapones, Fishbone and Out of Control Army.
For myself, I was excited to see two old ’80s favorites live for the first time: Bad Manners and The Untouchables. And Hollie Cook, whom I was grateful to see for a third time, dependably brought the house down. But my top pick for the weekend would have to be Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra. I only just heard about them when I saw their intriguing name on the Supernova bill a few months ago, got a few of their albums and became an instant fan. These guys demonstrate an understanding and respect for ska in all its forms, from its Jamaican roots to British 2 Tone to American third wave, and mix it all together with their own original artistry and next-level musicianship. TSPO soared through blinding versions of The Godfather Theme, Duke Ellington’s “Caravan,” and the Prince Buster/Madness classic “One Step Beyond.” Pure thrills.
All that aside, I think nearly every rude boy or girl on hand would agree that the emotional highlight of Supernova was Lynval Golding’s surprise guest appearance. We were blessed to witness a moment in music history as the Specials legend performed on stage for the first time since the passing of Terry Hall, joining The Aggrolites for a heartfelt tribute. Lynval took an old reggae/rocksteady standard, “Breaking Up Is Hard to Do,” and transformed the lovelorn ballad into an ode to his late bandmate and other departed friends. He implored the audience to send “love, love, love” to Saxa, Ranking Roger, Rico Rodriguez, Everett Morton, John Bradbury, and Terry Hall.
Following that beautiful eulogy, Lynval steered the crowd back into party mode in the best possible way. He broke out the harmonica and launched into “A Message to You Rudy.” It don’t get no better than that, right folks? Well, cinch up your suspenders and Doc Martens, because next it was time for “Enjoy Yourself.” Everyone’s feet stomped and brains exploded as we shared one collective thought: How in the world are we lucky enough to be here right now?
Wow. All I can say is thank you to Tim and April Receveur, the brilliant organizers who founded the Supernova Ska Festival in 2014. They have created a marvelous thing. We in the Stateside Madness community are accustomed to feeling like outsiders, alone and separated from like-minded souls by hundreds of miles of land and ocean. It’s a staggering bewilderment to walk amongst thousands of fellow ska lovers right here in the USA – in an odd little corner of the Southeast coast, no less! It gives me deep inspiration to see evidence that we SSM folks aren’t as alone as we think. With a few more events on the level of Supernova giving us opportunities to come together, we can finally start building a stateside fan community to rival the tight-knit network that our cousins in the U.K. enjoy. A lesson to us rudies.
Love, love, love.
Photos courtesy Bobby Rubin, Al L’Heureux, D. Trull, and Supernova International Ska Festival
Whilst reveling in the audiovisual splendor of the remastered Dance Craze on Blu-ray, I found myself wonderstruck at all the raw young talent that emerged at the same time, in the same country, sharing a ska revival moment that lasted all too briefly. I’ve known this music since I was a wee teenager, but this gorgeous new Dance Craze breathes such relentless vitality into that roster of legendary performers that I’m just left in awe. All these legends on stage – these kids – are so f***ing great! How was that even possible?
And in the finest traditions of sports fans and comic book nerds, my mind turned to hypothetical crossover glories. What if you could assemble your own personal 2 Tone dream team? What if you could journey back to 1980 (the year of Dance Craze) to draft all your favorites from their youthful prime and put them together in a British ska supergroup? Who should be nominated to the Traveling Wilburys of 2 Tone? The Mount Rushmore of the rocksteady beat? One’s mind boggles at the hypothetical hard-skanking combos.
Thus, following carefully considered reflection (and limiting my inherent Madness bias to two slots only), I hereby present the lineup for my ultimate fantasy ska orchestra.
Suggs may be my #1 favorite member of Madness, but I honestly have to go with Terry on this one. He’s just the personification of the 2 Tone frontman, no question. Aloof but impassioned, angry but intellectual, low-key but electrifying. And I discovered Pauline Black and The Selecter by way of the Dance Craze soundtrack, which captured some of her finest vocals. Watching the new Blu-ray, I’m enthralled with her stage presence. In my imagined supergroup, sometimes Terry sings lead, sometimes Pauline sings lead, and on some tunes they duet.
Alternate draft pick: Suggs
With his fast-flowing rhymes drenched in vibrant Jamaican patois, Roger always made certain every gig was a jubilant party. I can’t put it any better than Jerry Dammers’ words of eulogy: “If one person had to be picked to epitomise everything that was good and positive about the British ska movement and its youthful spirit, I think it would have to be Roger.”
Alternate draft pick: Chas Smash
For starters, Monsieur Barso has to be the most recognizable keyboard player I know of. After just a couple of bars, you know it’s him. Mike has the skill to govern the whole structure of a song with his keys, while leaving his bandmates plenty of room to do their own thing. Whereas most British ska keyboardists focus on Hammond-style organ, Mike gives equal attention to piano well, which ties back more closely to the traditions of Jamaican ska.
Alternate draft pick: Jerry Dammers
In my appreciation of the recent deluxe edition of The Selecter’s Celebrate the Bullet, I came to the late realization that Neol is the best guitarist from the 2 Tone scene. Guitar is primarily a rhythm instrument in the milieu of ska, with the occasional blast of a Roddy Radiation or Chris Foreman solo. But Neol went further in painting layered epic six-string soundscapes like 2 Tone’s version of Jimmy Page or The Edge.
Alternate draft pick: Andy Cox
Just listen to any given track on The Specials’ self-titled debut. Lynval is the master of the distinctive ska upstroke on the offbeats. Always fast, clean and precise, driving forward in lockstep with the drums and bass. None better.
Alternate draft pick: Chris Foreman
In my book, the two most essential components of the nutty Madness sound are Barson on keyboards and Bedford on bass. Which is why I named them my two all-star delegates from Madness without hesitation. Bedders was already a virtuoso of smooth and slinky rock-jazz-ska basslines in 1980, when, lest we forget, he was but a tender 19 years old. Besides, the man has thoroughly proven himself as a team player in massive ska orchestras.
Alternate draft pick: David Steele
Following Brad’s untimely death in 2015, I started listening to his Specials recordings with renewed appreciation. His drumming didn’t necessarily call attention to itself, what with all the other sonic explosions the band put on stage, but man, did he work hard. Brad kept himself busy with all kinds of complex drum fills and cymbal work while pounding on the base pedal and snare. A real gem.
Alternate draft pick: Everett Morton
Jamaican-born Lionel Martin, the great Saxa, was the 2 Tone scene’s living link to the original ska scene, and already an elder statesman of 50 at the time of Dance Craze. The man put a depth of emotion into his lonesome tenor tones that you could feel in your very soul. Saxa’s solo on “Mirror in the Bathroom” is a masterclass.
Alternate draft pick: Lee Thompson
I mean, duh. Obviously.
Alternate draft pick: Gus “Hot Lips” Herman
So that’s my ska fantasy lineup, for what it’s worth. It’s a fun thought experiment, if nothing more. Who would you choose for yours? Could anyone’s all-star band have been the most potent colossus to play the skank chop riddim since the Skatalites, or would ideas and egos clash with no chemistry in a shambolic mess?
Of course, we’ll never know. Then again, with A.I. simulations progressing the way they are, maybe soon we’ll be able to punch some buttons and hear any musicians from recorded history “perform” any setlist at one’s whim. Until that day, here’s a little-remembered real-life ska supergroup that starred several of my draft picks: the 1985 famine benefit project called Starvation.
I became a fan of ska music in a distant foreign land where such music is unheard and unheard of: the mountains of western North Carolina. Madness was my entry point, which led to the English Beat, the Specials and the rest of the 2 Tone scene, and eventually brought me to ska’s Jamaican roots in the Skatalites and Prince Buster. Content with my many obscure interests, I knew ska was never going to be a thing in the land of my birth, and that was okay.
Fast forward to the spring of this year, when I was visiting my family in Waynesville and found some info my sister had printed about a free summer concert series in the neighboring town of Sylva. The scheduled acts for the Concerts on the Creek series ran the gamut of expected local tastes: classic rock, bluegrass, country, beach music, Jimmy Buffett covers. But hello, what’s this odd little listing?
Friday, Aug. 19: SKA City, ska music (7-9 p.m.)
ZOMG what in the…? Wait, that’s a typo, right? A ska band? Performing for my ancestral homefolk? Who are presumably meant to show up voluntarily? Is this real life? No, it couldn’t be… but yes it is.
Immediately I was determined to witness this show. More than that, I needed to connect with Ska City and find out what they’re all about. There was surely a kinship to explore here, a bond between geographically unlikely troubadours and blogger, each of us fighting the good fight for musical skappreciation in the wilds of North Carolina!
The history of Ska City dates back to 2019 when some Asheville-area musicians met up through Craigslist to form a small ska group that included Will Chatham (drums), Dennis Owenby (sax) and Vinnie Sullivan (guitar). The lineup shifted and expanded into the current population of nine Ska Citizens, rounded out by Julia Ruff (lead vocals), Rob Grace (keyboards), Garrick Smith (baritone sax), Dave Wilken (trombone), Gabe Holguin (trumpet) and Rob Heyer (bass). Rob Grace is an expatriate from Coventry, lending the enterprise a dash of authentic British ska cred. Out of the other members, Will is my only fellow native North Carolinian, with the rest drawn from various parts of the U.S. by Asheville’s renowned weirdo magnet.
So what gave Ska City the courage to skank it up in a ska-less land where black and white checkerboard means the NASCAR race is over with?
“One of the theories behind this group is that we’d either do well or go down in flames,” Vinnie says. “The reason being, is a ton of people we spoke to about doing a ska band would say, ‘SKA! Holy crap, I used to go to ska shows all the time!’ We knew the audience was there, just weren’t sure if we’d get people coming out. But we’ve been doing pretty good, getting bigger audiences and better gigs as we go along.”
Can it really be as easy as that? Ska bands are famously disrespected by the unenlightened, and us rude boys and rude girls have been subjected to simple rudeness. Has Ska City ever had to pacify a hostile crowd by resorting to “Rawhide” or “Stand by Your Man”?
“Ha! Great question. No, never had to appease a crowd,” Vinnie says. “I assume we’re winning over anyone with an open mind, if they’ve never heard of or liked ska in the first place. We pepper the set with originals and classic ska and other covers, some covers that a country fan, for example, might recognize and get into.”
And what about covers that readers of this blog might get into? Of course I had to ask Vinnie, where does Ska City stand on Madness?
“We love Madness, a few of us have been ska fans since WAY back.” Unfortunately, there are no Madness or Prince Buster numbers in Ska City’s current set, but Vinnie suggests that could change. “I’d love to do ‘One Step Beyond’ or ‘Our House,’ classics for sure.”
The Ska City show took place at Sylva’s Bridge Park, which has a nice bandstand pavilion in front of scenic Scott Creek, with a big lawn where it’s BYO folding chairs and blankets. A paved patch in front of the stage serves as the dance floor. It turns out the band previously played here in 2021, so clearly it went over well enough for them to be invited back. The gathering all-ages crowd was already showing signs of interest during the sound check, which further boded well for the evening ahead. Ska City started the show proper will a peppy take on Otis Redding’s “I Can’t Turn You Loose,” widely recognized as the Blues Brothers’ opening theme. That made me smile in light of my earlier questions about any possible Bob’s Country Bunker nightmares.
The set list shrewdly kept the band engaged with a fair number of familiar songs without at all pandering: “The Tide Is High” (originally recorded by Jamaican rocksteady group The Paragons before Blondie made it a hit), Stevie Wonder’s “You Can Feel It All Over,” Dusty Springfield’s “Son of a Preacher Man,” Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl” (rendered with the original lyric of “Brown Skinned Girl”), Billie Eilish’s “Bad Guy,” and an inventive take on Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire.”
But Ska City is no novelty cover band. They pride themselves on original compositions that slot in nicely beside the multi-genre standards in their set. A couple of drinking-related songs went down well with the crowd: Dennis Owenby’s “Raise Your Glass” and Dave Wilken’s “Pizza and Beer.” Another original (whose name I didn’t catch) addressed the challenges of finding romantic time with kids in the house, which must have resonated with the young parents of the rugrats running around all night. I enjoyed the band’s self-titled theme song, which Julia introduces as a primer on the meaning of ska. “There’s a little place (Ska City!) I’m gonna take you to (Ska City!) You’re gonna love it there! Bring your mama to (Ska City!)” The lyrics namecheck Prince Buster, 2 Tone, Coventry, The Specials, Selecter, The English Beat… but alas, not Madness. I has a sad. 😢
Ah well, I can forgive ’em that. I could still feel the archetypal presence of Madness at work, if only in my mind. Rob Heyer has a jazzy Bedders bounce in his bass, and Rob Grace conjures cool Barson energy in his porkpie hat and shades while laying down mellifluous organ. Most striking of all, saxman Dennis Owenby is the Lee Thompson of North Carolina, in stature as well as impish demeanor. “This next one’s a song we didn’t write,” Dennis quipped. “It’s still pretty good, though.”
Ska City had me hooked from the start. It was all over early in the set when the horn section heralded “Rudy, A Message to You” and I had to haul my ass straight to the dance floor. I did my best to exhort the crowd to take heed of Rudy’s cautionary tale, jumping around the concrete slab with some kids and a few senior citizens. (Plus the one dad in a ska T-shirt who joined in later, bless him.)
That huge classic led directly into the best moment of the night, a spectacular interpretation of “Take Five” by Dave Brubeck. Ska City is far from the first ska or reggae act to tackle this revered jazz standard, but they really nailed it. The band got a serious Skatalites stretching-out groove cooking, with about everyone taking extended solos breaks in turn – just thoroughly impressive. The other high points for me were a blazing runthrough of Toots & The Maytals’ call-and-response colossus “54-46 (Was My Number)”, and the joyous shifting tempos of Dexy’s Midnight Runners’ “Come on Eileen” that closed the show with a suitable bang.
Here D. Trull shows the good people of Sylva how to ska.
All in all, Ska City delivered an evening of personal affirmation for me, and hopefully an entertaining discovery for other attendees. People always ask “What is ska?” But it’s something you can’t explain in words, or with YouTube videos, and maybe not even by playing great records. The only way to understand ska is to hear a good band play live. In this respect, my new comrades in Ska City are doing a fine public service.
Like the song says, I literally did bring my mama to Ska City – and my sister too. And I think now they know me a little better.
Thanks to Vinnie Sullivan and Rob Grace for graciously chatting with me for this article. Check out Ska City at Ska.City and on Facebook and YouTube.
I’m totally biased about this one. Here we have my two favorite living male vocalists, both heroes of my youth, singing together on an original composition they co-wrote. Not gonna lie, Suggs and Paul Weller could fart the theme song from Gomer Pyle, USMC and I would wholeheartedly adore it. So take the following “critique” with whatever quarries of salt your cynicism may dictate.
That being said… “Ooh Do U Fink U R?” is an amazing and delightful singularity of a single. I have played its brisk 2:24 on repeat over and over and over and over again, and every bit of this track puts a big stupid grin on my face. What a thing of joy it is.
The major standout and surprise to me is the deliberate misdirection of the title. In interviews over the past year or so, Suggs and Weller have teased “Who Do You Think You Are, Sunshine?” Such a colourful taunt evokes Cockney tough guys and criminals, suggesting a ballad along the lines of “Drip Fed Fred” or “Herbert,” or even “Down in the Tube Station at Midnight.” Maybe something in an Ian Dury vein, with Paul and Suggs trading spoken-word lines, conspiratorial and tongue in cheek. If the song had gone in this direction, it could have turned out really good or really silly. This project ran a high risk of yielding a disposable curiosity if the creative duo didn’t take it seriously.
But you know what? The self-styled “Neverly Brothers” opted for sincerity and plunged headlong into emotional honesty like I never expected. Suggs has told interviewers that the song is about the discouraging negativity he had to overcome as a schoolboy. It’s not other kids or hoodlums doing the abusive bullying, but the supposedly nurturing faculty.
“I think teachers are the best people in the world, I love them with all my heart,” Suggs says. “But you know all those great teachers you read about who dragged their pupils up, and encouraged them and made them into the best possible version of themselves they could be? Well, unfortunately, I didn’t have one of those!”
In studying institutional suppression of nonconforming youth, “Ooh Do U Fink U R?” is reminiscent of Lee Thompson compositions like “Land of Hope and Glory,” “Idiot Child” and “I Believe.” But it may be more fair to call the song a dark spiritual sequel to Suggs’ own “Baggy Trousers.” It may be true that lots of fun was had, but it’s also worth pointing out how things can turn out bad… when teachers fail their students who don’t fit the standardized system. Clearly this is a theme that resonates with Weller as well, aligning with his lyrics from 1977’s “The Modern World.”
I've learned more than you'll ever know Even at school I felt quite sure That one day I would be on top And I'd look down upon the map The teachers who said I'd be nothing
The really clever and subversive part of the song’s construction is the framing of one key word: Sunshine. Suggs and Weller transform it from a sarcastic epithet to a majestic blossoming of Small Faces harmonies, heralded by sparkling “Penny Lane” brass. Yes, Headmaster, as a matter of fact I do think think I’m sunshine. I’m pretty great and I’ll do just fine in life with or without your support, thank you sir. The concept works beautifully for me.
With the absence of liner notes for this digital single, full details on the personnel involved are unavailable. What we do know is that the songwriting credits are Graham McPherson and Paul Weller, indicating that this is different from the unfinished Chris Foreman lyric that Suggs reportedly forwarded to Weller for consideration. Weller reports that he recorded the instrumental track at his Black Barn studio, then Suggs came in to lay down the vocals with him. Paul is obviously the far more gifted vocalist, so it’s impressive how well their two voices blend together here, with Suggs given a comfortable range. Weller band members Andy Crofts and Ben Gordelier have both stated that they played on the track, so Steve Cradock and Steve Pilgrim are most likely on there too. I want to know if that’s Jacko Peake doing the reasonably good Thommo facsimile on sax.
As much as I admire it, I can admit “Ooh Do U Fink U R?” is far from perfect. The song could really use another verse to define the schoolteacher antagonist more explicitly before rushing into the bridge. And the pronouns get confusing in the lyrical denouement: “But you never give up / No you never give in / ’Cause you are the one that set me free.” So the person who never gives up is also the one who comes to the rescue? On top of which, “Set me free / Set me free” is an awfully tired refrain to close out a track that’s otherwise rather inventive.
I’m also disappointed in the goofy spelling of the song’s title with the lazy text message abbreviations. Paul and Suggsy don’t even pronounce “think” with an “F” in the chorus. But the worst part is leaving off the “Sunshine”! That’s the most crucial word in the whole song, fellas. Keeping it in the title would have been enough to distinguish it from the Spice Girls hit, with or without the illiterate inscription.
But in the end, none of that matters. For me this little tune will stand forever as the intersection of two creative pathways that I have tread along for the better part of my life. It’s a precious magical concoction. I know a great many listeners in the Madness and Paul Weller fan communities disagree, and that’s okay. To cite Weller’s own words from “The Modern World” once again, I don’t have to explain myself to you. I don’t give two f**ks about your review.
I got my copy of Lee Thompson’s memoir upon its release in April 2021, the limited edition autographed hardcover. Growing Out of It: Machinations Before Madness looks very smart alongside the other Madness and Suggs volumes on my bookshelf, where I must confess the book sat untouched for months. The timing of publication wasn’t ideal, certainly, coming right on the heels of the Before We Was We book and three-part documentary, then being swiftly overtaken by the flashback-fueled The Get Up! streaming extravaganza in May. Even a big fan like me felt a bit satiated with the spate of Madness nostalgia trips. What more could Lee fill a book with that we haven’t just run through several time already?
What finally got me to get into Growing Out of It was actually the September release of the audiobook edition (about which more later). These days I can get through any book faster by listening on my walks and in the car that I can by sitting down to flip pages. I can now report it’s a fine book indeed, with Lee sharing memories of his early life and how Madness started in ways that stand apart from the band’s recent mutual retrospectives.
In his introduction, Lee’s co-author Ian “Snowy” Snowball relates that the genesis of the book dates back to 2017, so I’m guessing this was in the works well before Before We Was We. I can imagine how chastened Snowy must have been to learn the band was putting together a coinciding book very much like his project with Thommo. The two autobiographies even share the same designated historical span, covering childhood through the first Madness recordings of 1979, and ending there. In the case of Growing Out of It, the stated concept is “only going up to the release of ‘The Prince’.”
(Photo credit: Darren Dixon. Used with permission.)
Of course, this being of product of the unruly mind of Lee Thompson, the subject matter discussed is not so rigorously contained. Lee’s observations skip across the decades, occasionally mentioning the band’s later hits and fame, the Crunch days, the Madstock reunion, the Buckingham Palace gig, and a number of quite recent anecdotes. There’s one corker about Thommo just the other day confusing his reading glasses with a pair of Suggsy’s to the point of shouting, so we get a dash of old geezer comedy mixed in with this portrait of the artist as a young man.
Growing Out of It dutifully checks off the legends that have been told and retold since Take It or Leave It: Lee’s early life of petty crime, his fascination with old ska and rock steady records (mostly shoplifted), his saxophone with the serial number scratched out, not knowing how to tune a sax through their first album, the 2 Tone Tour, anti-authority hijinks at Top of the Pops, etc. Some of these old canards are fleshed out with new insights from Lee… if he is to be believed. Take the familiar tale of Thommo climbing in through the bathroom window to get into a Kilburn and the High Roads show, only to be confronted by Ian Dury himself. Here Lee claims there was actually no cover charge for entry that night, and he was only breaking in the back way out of habit. I mean, really? Another yarn I had a hard time swallowing was when Lee claims he once ran into Omar Sharif and did a Jake Blues “How much for your women?” routine – which sounds more like a showbiz gag Buddy Hackett would have told Johnny Carson than our lad Kix.
The odd potential fib aside, the book is loaded with choice morsels that were new to me, if indeed they’ve ever been shared heretofore. I howled at the story of Lee’s first time meeting Paul Weller, which involves a ritzy Los Angeles rock & roll party and the leader of The Jam going for a swim fully naked. Then there’s an indelicate summary of Chrissy Boy advising Lee of a peculiar home remedy for easing venereal disease pain, which leads to disastrous results. We get a full-on diatribe wherein Lee denounces the vile sartorial pestilence of white socks. “I just never like that look of white socks on display beneath a pair of Sta-Prest, or poking out from a nice pair of brogues or loafers,” Lee seethes. “It was so common at the end of the 1970s, but I detested it.”
Toward the end of the book, Lee drops a significant gem in the form of an old unfinished lyric he penned in the band’s formative days. “Jump in the Back of the Jag” has the makings of a cracking gangster ballad in the mold of “Drip Fed Fred” and “Herbert.” “Suggs knows it and keeps pushing me to complete it, so that Madness can record it,” Lee notes. “Maybe we’ll get around to finishing it one day.”
Lee speaks about his bandmates in turn, sharing his admiration and fondness for each of them at length. We fans tend to have the impression that Thommo’s biggest friends in Madness are Chris and Mike, since they are the original founding trio, and Lee has such a history of fruitful collaborations with those two. So it comes as some surprise when Lee reserves the warmest regards for Carl Smyth, since I’d heard the two of them didn’t always get along so well. Lee refutes rumors that he had been opposed to Carl becoming the seventh member of the band. “We idolised each other,” Lee confides. “He was my Clark Gable and I was his… well, Hilda Ogden.” (Google tells me Hilda was a character on the Coronation Street soap, who pretty much looked like Lee in drag in the “Our House” video.)
The book’s meandering narrative gathers a potent dramatic arc through its telling of the story of “The Prince.” I didn’t realize Lee expressly wrote the song for the purpose of being the band’s single for 2 Tone, since the band felt none of their small body of original tunes fit the aesthetic of Jerry Dammers’ label. Thommo rose to the challenge, listening to dozens of Prince Buster albums to craft a suitably ska-seeped tribute number. I love how Lee waxes poetic about holding that checkered 7-inch disc in his hands for the first time. Most artists are either too modest or too jaded to dwell on such moments of first accomplishment, but after the adversities Lee had gone through in his young life, he entirely earned that burst of pride. “Just having ‘The Prince’ committed to vinyl was enough,” Lee recalls. “It didn’t matter if it was a hit or not.”
The audiobook of Growing Out of It is not narrated by Lee, and celebrity memoirs not read by their familiar voices are typically a chore to sit through. Not so in the case. Although Matthew Lloyd Davies exhibits a posh BBC accent on his other audiobooks, here he puts on an extremely commendable Lee Thompson impression, capturing not only his North London accent but also his speech cadence, like the distinctive way Thommo draws out… his worrrds… to underscore a wry or bitter remark. Kudos to the audio producer who cast Davies, who makes this such an enjoyable listen. The only downside is when Davies reads the many footnotes and side comments from Lee’s wife Debbie, sister Tracy, Mike Barson, Chrissy Boy and other assorted friends. It can be difficult to know when the aside is finished and we’re back to Lee talking again.
That leaves just one observation about the book. Why does the autobiography of such a vibrant, colorful and creative individual have such a drab and boring title? Growing Out of It is weak sauce for a fellow who’s graced his works with titles like “March of the Gherkins” and The Benevolence of Sister Mary Ignatius. Given the heavy thematic focus on “The Prince,” I think the book should have taken its title drawn from those lyrics, like Shuffle Me Off My Feet, or Even If I Kept on Running. But then again, considering the sideways genius of Lee Thompson, Growing Out of It probably carries ironic layers of meaning that I won’t grasp until 15 years later.
Stateside Madness 