Pop of the Pops!
by Michael Franklin
Billy were enjoying a pint at the Plough Inn on
the corner of their street, but their emerging
topic of conversation did not reflect enjoyment.
pissed of with the noise that comes from number
27 lately. Its up for sale, but no buyers
those pop musician tenants. It gets on our nerves
as well. Bad enough when one lad is rattling out
on a guitar on his own, but worse when the
group practice together - all shouting and
off and offer that rubbish to a wider audience
Julie next door told me the other day that they
have pop concerts in the city, but - thank
goodness - that is six miles away. She also
told me that her son John - a pianist and more
musically cultured, went across one night and put
a recorder on the wall below that front window.
They were practicing some accompaniment and he
wanted some friends to hear how primitive and
ugly it was.
"So - it
was clattering drummy stuff and screaming guitars
- but no voices?"
could we stop it all?.
thoughful for a few moments, sipping their ale.
have an idea Billy. The loudest and ugliest
singing voice in our street is Fred. He worked
until retirement - we all know - as a market
trader, and they spend their lives shouting. When
he gets out in his garden in the summer he
rattles the trees with Ilkley Moor Bahttat
and other folky tunes. He thinks it is a quiet
private performance, but we are all entertained.
spreads for miles! So. What is your idea?
get him to put his gravelly voice to that
recorded piece, shouting in an ugly way like the
poppers do, with a rude lyric that no one
will understand anyway.
Lets give it a try.
Julie, Fred, and other allies in the street
cooperated and expert outside help was found. Two
months later Up Yours became top of
the pops, selling nearly two million copies.
Cleverly, the producers were able to deter
attempts by the poppy thickheads to contact
the singer, describing him as a distant fourteen-year-old
Czech - Alexandrovic Snedlditetikasi.
The profit was
used to buy number 27 and throw the noisies out.