Wednesday, December 10, 2008
THE END OF THE WORLD
Demis Roussos sang with Nana Mouskouri on the show that was on BBC4. Mercifully, the bloody King's Singers were kept at bay for a couple of minutes.
Nana told Demis that he was piling on the pounds, which was a bit tactless. Gok Wan would not have approved. "You shouldn't be hiding your voluptuousness behind that shapeless kaftan, Demis!" he would have exclaimed. "Get a corset on and get yer bangers out!"
Demis was the subject of a discussion during a family gathering in my parents' house in the 1970's. Present were my gran, my auntie and my mum.
He was caterwauling his way through When Forever Has Gone on TOTP.
My gran - a woman who made it her life's work to balance at least five illnesses at once, informed us that this was a beautiful song.
"HAH!" my auntie retorted. "It's complete rubbish and he can't sing!"
My auntie was the nearest thing to a modern woman in my mum's huge family. She actually had opinions and stuff, a job outside the home, was quite young looking and hadn't just "given up" on life when she reached thirty.
You know the way that some people always stick with the look they had when they were in their late teens? Well, that's the way my auntie looked - as if it was 1960. She used to be rake thin, have short bouffant mousy hair, bad skin and a wardrobe compiled of car coats, cropped trousers and turtle neck jumpers. A lot of Crimplene and pastel colours were involved. She looked like a Smiths cover star, in other words.
Actually, her husband used to complement her in this respect. Those bum freezer jackets and boots with the elastic in the side, and a big ash blond quiff. Wide screen features and very pale blue eyes ... ahem ... is it a bit off to say that your uncle was quite fanciable really? He used to manage a car showroom in Walsall. Very glamorous.
Theirs was an aspirational family (by 1976 standards) and they were the envy of all my other relatives because they had an oil lamp, a bricked up chimney style fireplace and one of those long, snaking sofa/chair things with the units in between! The upholstery was chocolate coloured velour!
My mother said nothing (as was usually the case in any social gatherings, unless she'd laid into the Cherry B).
My gran got very emotional.
"It's a lovely song. It makes me want to cry."
"HAH!" my auntie once again retorted. "He's making IDIOTS out of people like you, all he's doing is raking in the cash from people who don't know any better like YOU". She made some theatrical gestures of an EVIL person (presumably Demis) counting cash in their EVIL castle, grinning fiendishly and rubbing their hands together in an EVIL way.
"I don't care, people of your age don't understand. One day you will. I like this and I like Slim Whitman" my gran whined. It's one of the few times I ever heard her express an opinion on anything, or, indeed, talk about anything apart from her illnesses.
I was hoping that this would, for once, lead to a huge family feud, or at least a heated debate. It didn't. Nothing ever did in my family. People used to talk about each other behind their backs though. This is part of the reason that I think families are shit.
My auntie, who was young and healthy and lively, died of a stroke at forty four. Yikes! I've outlived her!
My gran, who was always claiming that she would be dead soon, lived to the ripe old age of eighty nine.
Anyway, this has rambled off into a blind alley, and is completely pointless, which is the way I like it. There's nothing worse than a well written blog post, is there?
Um, Demis. Here's Demis with the awesome Aphrodite's Child.
Labels: Aphrodite's Child, Demis Roussos, my crayzee family, not post of the week, Smiths cover stars