12 May 2012 Dr Sketchy Set List

 / A strawberry blonde that's never existed in nature: Sex kitten extraordinaire Ann-Margret /

This Saturday afternoon Dr Sketchy at The Old Queen’s Head happened to coincide with my birthday. The reliably louche Dusty Limits was on emcee duties. Our burlesque performer and female model was the diminutive Amelie Soleil, who I’ve never worked with before. She has a circus school background and is a contortionist: she can do the splits as casually as most of cross our legs, and was able to hold the pose for an eye-watering length of time! She also incorporated fire-eating into her burlesque act – wow! You can read about Amelie’s pretty remarkable background in circus, cabaret and burlesque here. Our male model was the aptly-named Luscious Luke, who's recently been featured as a pin-up in Meat magazine (think of it as the UK equivalent of Butt).

   

/ Luke and Dusty topping up their fluid intake/

   

/ The ultra-bendy Amelie Soleil /

   

/ Amelie and Luke ensemble /

Because it was my birthday, I invited along some friends of mine: Angela (the sassy Scottish lassie who put the “ange” in “danger”), Paul (aka Johnny Cashpoint, formerly of art-punk band Matron – who should’ve made it big!), Derek and “Stuckist” artist and musician Ella Guru (formerly of the Voodoo Queens, currently in The Deptford Beach Babes). All of them were Dr Sketchy virgins, and really seemed to dig it.

   

/ My official birthday 2012 portrait: no photo of me is complete without my trademark sweat patch /

I’m still working in new material from CDs I bought at Amoeba Records in San Francisco in April. From Ain’t Love Grand, the much-maligned 1985 fifth album by the Los Angeles punk band X (a record that rocked my world as a teenager. It merits a whole blog to itself), I played the dramatic and bluesy torch song “My Goodness”, which seemed to make an impression. The punk-y and strange last few songs were just me clowning around because I was drunk by then and it was my birthday. I’ve also started introducing some tracks from a compilation CD entitled Good Girls Gone Bad I picked up at the wonderful Rooky Ricardo's Records in San Francisco. (God, how much do I love this store? I also bought some Ike and Tina Turner fridge magnets there. Imagine! Ike and Tina fridge magnets! I thought I’d died and gone to heaven). The compilation is a gem: I would call it an early 60s girl group anthology (it does feature some great obscure girl groups with names like The Tiaras, The Fortune Cookies and The Half-Sisters) but it mostly comprises tear-jerking laments by dimly-remembered wholesome white solo “girl singers” from that late 1950s-early 1960s post-army Elvis and pre-Beatles period that conventional baby boomer rock historians routinely condemn as some kind of cultural 

wasteland.  

/ Rooky Ricardo's Records on Haight Street /

Well, received wisdom sucks. Yes, the pop music of this era is often terminally un-hip, tame and neutered: think clean-cut teen idols like Tommy Sands, Connie Francis, Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello, think "Kookie, Kookie Lend Me Your Comb.". Yet because the music is so white bread, wholesome and square, there’s often an intriguing bat squeak of strangeness and kinkiness under its middle of the road veneer. Transgressive filmmakers like Kenneth Anger (think Scorpio Rising (1963); the Paris Sisters cooing “Dream Lover” in Kustom Kar Kommandos (1965) would comfortably fit on Good Girls Gone Bad) and David Lynch recognise this, returning again and again to the music of this period for their soundtracks. Lynch in particular: Bobby Vinton’s “Blue Velvet”, Connie Stevens’s “16 Reasons” and Linda Scott’s “I’ve Told Every Single Star” in Mulholland Drive (2001). The early 1960s is also the period John Waters came of age as a teen and which he lovingly evokes in Hairspray (1988).

   

"16 Reasons" in Mulholland Drive The Connie Stevens original (Better known as an actress, platinum blonde starlet Connie Stevens cut a few records in the early 60s, singing in a breathless little girl voice. Her "Little Miss Understood" is one of my highlights on Good Girls Gone Bad). Connie Stevens in her beehived glory When I bought the CD, the man who I assume to be Rooky Ricardo himself exclaimed, “Oh you’ll like this – it’s white girls with problems.” Corny as hell, the songs pack a fluffy kitsch period charm, but also throb with innocence and urgent teen drama. Good Girls Gone Girl Bad sketches out a soap opera realm in which tearful, passive-aggressive and needy girls next door pine for their “good-bad but not evil” leader of the pack-bad boys in heartbreak ballads. “Twenty four hours of loneliness / Twenty four hours of heartbreak / Every minute has been like this / How much more can I take?” Bonnie Lou demands, audibly at the end of her rope, while Joni Lymon’s “Happy Birthday Blue” is a variation on “It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want To.” On “Call Him Back”, Donna Lewis argues with her boyfriend on the phone, hangs up on him and then goes batshit crazy regretting it. Things reach a fever pitch with “It Should Have Been Me”, in which the lead singer of the aforementioned Fortune Cookies turns deranged stalker, watching her ex’s wedding from a phone booth across the street. Her delivery makes you hope the newlyweds have taken out a restraining order. (It’s worth remembering that it was around this time (1960) that Ike Turner first unleashed on the world his tigress of a wife, the volcanic Tina. Consider her frankly sex-wracked scream on “A Fool in Love” and then consider the disparity between black rhythm and blues and white pop records of the time). The yearning lyrics and keening vocals on Good Girls Gone Bad bristle with the kind of dysfunctional "stand by your man" masochism whose DNA still pulses in the knowingly retro, noir-ish and David Lynch-ian music of ice princess Lana Del Rey today. “He can‘t be all bad / even though he’s got an awful lot of rebel in him ...” long-forgotten ingénue Cobey Carson simpers. “It’s no wonder he’s in trouble every day / No kind word ever comes his way ...And I’m glad he’s mine.” That’s precisely the kind of sentiment Del Rey (the only modern pop star who matters) explores in a more overtly troubled/troubling, potentially self-destructive way in songs like “Blue Jeans” and “Born to Die.” Of course one of the (many) things Del Rey takes so much flack for is being a poor feminist role model for her “irresponsible” lyrics (her intriguing 1950s good girl/bad girl mixed messages are older than Ann-Margret and Nancy Sinatra). Lana, oh, Lana: I understand you But masochistic themes of romantic despair are present in all great love songs – they’re the life force of pop itself. Think of the mid-century female masters of the art of heartbreak (Piaf longing for her legionnaire, the entire oeuvre of Billie Holiday, Dusty Springfield wailing “I Just Don’t Know What to Do with Myself”) and all the blues and Country & Western greats of both genders (an utterly defeated Hank Williams crying into his beer on “You Win Again”). Good Girls Gone Bad taps into this, and makes me shudder in ecstasy. Anyway, later that night I met up with Christopher and Lauren and went to The Hillbilly Hop (London’s best monthly rockabilly club; kudos to its promoter, Greaser Leo). From there, things got messy, but it was fun and worth the next day’s hangover. I quickly snapped a few drunken (brutally close-up) photos at the Hillbilly Hop. Consider them Nan Goldin-style portraits of my friends Lauren Christopher Danny Danny again Quiet Village - Martin Denny Run - Jeri Southern Laisse-moi tranquille - Serge Gainsbourg Wimoweh - Yma Sumac Mama Look A Boo Boo - Robert Mitchum Go Calypso - Mamie Van Doren De Castrow - Jaybee Wasden La Bamba - Eartha Kitt Vesuvius - The Revels I Want Your Love - The Cruisers Margaya - The Fender Four Jim Dandy - Sara Lee and The Spades You Can't Stop Her - Bobby Marchan Screwdriver - Luchi Chicken - The Spark Plugs Kruschev Twist - Melvin Gayle Chop Suey Rock - The Instrumentals Love Potion # 9 - Nancy Sit Fujiyama Mama - Annisteen Allen The Bee - The Sentinels Oo-Wee, Mr Jeff - Georgina Lane Tall Cool One - The Wailers Always True to You in My Fashion - Denise Darcel 8 Ball - The Hustlers Fever - Ann-Margret You're My Thrill - Chet Baker (instrumental) Mon coeur n'était pas fait pour ça - Juliette Greco Anasthasia - Bill Smith Combo Strolling After Dark - The Shades Womp Womp - Freddie and The Heartaches Hard Workin' Man - Captain Beefheart A Man What Takes His Time - Marlene Dietrich I Want a Boy - Connie Russell Handclapping Time - The Fabulous Raiders One Mint Julep - Sarah Vaughan Dragon Walk - The Noble Men Hurt Is All You Gave Me - Ike and Tina Turner This Thing Called Love - Esquerita That Makes It - Jayne Mansfield Beat Party - Ritchie and The Squires Boss - The Rumblers How Come You Do Me? Junior Thompson The Beast - Milt Buckner Do It Again - April Stevens Kiss - Marilyn Monroe My Goodness - X Mondo Moodo - Earls of Suave Lazy - The Nuns Crazy Vibrations - The Bikinis You're the Boss - Elvis Presley and Ann-Margret Bonnie and Clyde - Serge Gainsbourg and Brigitte Bardot Love is Strange - Johnny Thunders and Patti Paladin Begin the Beguine - Billy Fury Mack the Knife - Hildegard Knef La Javanise - Juliette Greco The Girl Can't Help It - Little Richard Witchcraft - Elvis Presley Viens danser le twist - Johnny Hallyday Beat Girl - Adam Faith Little Miss Understood - Connie Stevens Big Girls Don't Cry - Edith Massey What's Wrong with Me? X What Do You Think I Am? Ike and Tina Turner

21 September 2011 Dr Sketchy Set List

Jayne Mansfield letting it all hang out

This was the first Dr Sketchy back at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern since July. The two previous Dr Sketchy’s at The RVT had been marred by some truly catastrophic technical glitches (fuses blowing, performers’ CDs malfunctioning at crucial moments. You can read about them here and here if you really want to re-visit the full horror). The whole day leading up to this Dr Sketchy I was so anxious about either sound or lights going tits-up again this time that by the time I arrived at The RVT I was acting all twitchy and bug-eyed like Natalie Portman in Black Swan. And just to crank up the pressure, the actual founder of Dr Sketchy, Molly Crabapple from New York, was in town and would be in attendance. (In other words, the actual Queen Mutha of Dr Sketchy herself!). Nothing could wrong!

In fact this Dr Sketchy turned out to be not just smooth and problem-free, it was actually pretty damn triumphant. The night had long been sold-out in advance and was filled to capacity (which always makes things feel buzzing and more fun) with a quite liquored-up and rowdy crowd (suitably, the theme for this Dr Sketchy was “indulgence”). There was cabaret and burlesque aristocracy both onstage and off: the emcee this time was Ophelia Bitz; the featured striptease artiste / model was Cherry Shakewell; Trixi Tassels was working the door and an off-duty Ava Iscariot was in the audience. Throughout the night Molly Crabapple was drawing a gigantic mural / backdrop along the back wall of the RVT stage (the way the DJ booth is situated at The RVT means I couldn’t actually see her art work until the end of the night, but it was pretty freaking amazing).

As usual, the effervescent Ophelia Bitz was the hostess with the mostest. “I’m dressed like a 1960s art teacher” she explained (her beatnik-inspired ensemble involved Capri pants – or toreador pants if you prefer – and a headscarf, with paint brushes sticking out of her hair). Inspired, while Ophelia did some warm-up poses before Cherry Shakewell came out I played “A Cruise to the Moon“ from the timelessly alluring 1979 death jazz album Queen of Siam by the then-19 year old Lydia Lunch when she was the perma-scowling Death Kitten of New York's No Wave scene. Variously described as “a Billie Holiday nightmare” and “a putrid classic of style and substance”, Queen of Siam first well and truly corrupted me when I bought it at a second-hand record store as a teenager and it remains a touchstone of mine to this day. (Around the same time I interviewed Lydia herself for the first time for my university’s newspaper – now that was an education. She taught me about champagne enemas). "A Cruise to the Moon" is actually an instrumental, an epic of discordant art-y big band beatnik jazz-punk -- and was arranged by Billy Ver Planck (the composer of The Flintstones’s theme song!). (I also played a track by Lunch's No Wave contemporary and former partner in crime: a spikey deconstruction of Gene Pitney's "Town without Pity" by James Brown/Chet Baker hybrid James Chance).


She's In a Bad Mood: Lydia Lunch around the time she would have recorded Queen of Siam (1979)

Perennial Dr Sketchy favourite Cherry Shakewell works an irresistible 1960s go-go dancer / babydoll image (think Lori Williams as Billie in Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!) which always prompts me to go full tilt-boogie on 60s sex kitten tracks (Ann-Margret, Nancy Sinatra and Brigitte Bardot). When it comes to lechery, Dr Sketchy operates an equal opportunities policy: we also featured the male model Luscious Luke (he’s aptly-named). I had some tracks cued for his first pose, but as soon as he came onstage and I saw his outfit (pretty much nothing but a pair of black leather hotpants, wielding a spanking paddle in his hand) I quickly replaced them with some S&M-tinged instrumentals ("The Whip by The Originals, "The Whip" by The Frantics, "Torture Rock" by The Rockin' Belmarx).

Soundtracks by David Lynch and John Waters are a constant source of inspiration for me. While I spun the slinky instrumental “The Beast” by Milt Buckner (used in Mulholland Drive), I pondered the folly of David Lynch's much-hyped new nightclub venture Club Silencio in Montmartre in Paris (based on the nightclub of the same name in Mulholland Drive, the one where the woman sings Roy Orbison’s “Crying” en Espanol). While the idea of an eerie and seductive Lynchian nightclub experience makes my nipples harden in ecstasy, it’s hypocritical to describe Club Silencio as a potential successor to Andy Warhol’s Factory, as a Guardian journalist has proposed. At the Factory (at least initially) its genuinely bohemian open door policy meant low-life denizens like junkies, hustlers and drag queens could mingle, flirt and get stoned with socialites, Hollywood stars and Tennessee Williams. Club Silencio meanwhile is a member’s only club – and the most basic membership starts at an eye-watering 780 Euros a year (420 Euros for under-30s and non-French residents). Somehow I think I won’t be checking it out next time I’m in Paris! (I think the pricey and elitist membership fees are designed to weed-out the likes of me, anyway). And anyway, it would have been far cooler to base a nightclub on The Slow Club, the dive bar where Dennis Hopper listens to poor Isabella Rossellini croon her endless, tuneless Nico-like dirge rendition of Blue Velvet.



A few months back Cherry Shakewell Facebooked me asking for urgent help finding suitable music for a new routine she was working on with a cavewoman/ primitive vibe. Honestly -- so demanding! What a diva! Two songs that instantly popped into my head were "Watusi Zombie" by Jan Davis and “Primitive” by The Groupies – and she wound up using both. While I didn’t play “Primitive” at this Dr Sketchy (it’s too 1960s garage punk for the Dr Sketchy vibe), I just found this clip on Youtube – so I guess my idea of using this track for a burlesque number wasn’t quite so original after all! Still – Blaze Starr. What a beauty, and it's this installment's tittyshaker.



Town without Pity - James Chance
Pas c'est chanson - Johnny Holliday
Unchain My Heart - Florence Joelle's Kiss of Fire
Love Letters - Ike and Tina Turner
Follow the Leader - Wiley Terry
The Greasy Chicken - Andre Williams
Club Delight - Jack Jolly
Take Half - Hal Singer
Hole in My Heart - Esquerita
Vesuvius - The Revels
Where Yo Is? Fat Daddy Holmes
Sick and Tired - Lula Reed
Rockin' Out the Blues - The Musical Linn Twins
Trouble - Jackie De Shannon
Don't Be Cruel - Bill Black Combo
Hound Dog - Little Esther
Jungle Walk - The Dyna-Sores
Virgenes del Sol - Yma Sumac
Cha Cha Cha du loup - Serge Gainsbourg
Babydoll Mambo - Belmonte & His Afro-American Music
Love for Sale - Hildegard Knef
Java Partout - Juliette Greco
Lunar Rhapsody - Les Baxter
Ole Devil Moon - Chet Baker
Always True to You in My Fashion - Denise Darcel
Astrosonic - Jimmy Haskell and His Orchestra
A Cruise to the Moon - Lydia Lunch
Pop Slop - Béla Sanders und Sein Tanzorchester
Cherry - The Jive Bombers
Screwdriver - Luchi
Womp Womp - Freddie and The Heartaches
Black Coffee - Julie London
Beat Party - Ritchie and The Squires
Crank Case - Bill Black Combo
Lightning's Girl - Nancy Sinatra
Harley-Davidson - Brigitte Bardot
The Rat - The Ventures
Bombie - Johnny Sharp and The Yellow Jackets
Dragon Walk - The Noble Men
Eight Ball - The Hustlers
The Whip - The Frantics
Rigor Mortis - The Graveyard Four
Torture Rock - The Rockin' Belmarx
Ice Man - Filthy McNasty
Tony's Got Hot Nuts - Faye Richmonde
Love Potion # 9 - Nancy Sit
Beat Out My Love - Lee Dresser and The Krazy Kats
Peter Gunn Twist - The Jesters
Peter Gunn Locomotion - The Delmonas
Peter Gunn Mambo - Jack Costanzo and His Orchestra
Work Song - Nina Simone
Beauty is Only Skin Deep - Robert Mitchum
La Bamba - Eartha Kitt
Mambo Baby - Ruth Brown
She Wants to Mambo - Johnny Thunders and Patti Paladin
The Swinger - Ann-Margret
Sexe - Rene Linaude
The Girl Who Invented Rock'n'Roll - Mamie van Doren
As the Clouds Drift By - Jayne Mansfield
The Beast - Milt Buckner
Makin' Out - Jody Reynolds
Let's Go Sexin' - James Intveld (A Dirty Shame soundtrack)
Little Boy, Little Girl - John and Jackie
Hot Licks - The Rendells
Charge It - The Playboys
Intoxica - The Revels
My Daddy Rocks Me - Mae West
Drive Daddy Drive - Little Sylvia
Kruschev Twist - Melvin Gayle
Ring of Fire - The Earls of Suave
The Girl Can't Help It - Little Richard
Surfin' Snow Matador - Jan Davis
Fever - Timi Yuro

One last grumble: I looked back at some older blogs of mine and discovered that at least 40% of the Youtube videos I'd lovingly chosen to illustrate blog entries have been deleted! They're now just blank black boxes. The standard reasons seem to be the user has deleted their Youtube profile (which means their videos vanish), or (in my case) Youtube has changed its policy on nudity and sexual content. Go check some of your own older blogs and feel instantly discouraged!

Bonus tittyshaker! Jayne Mansfield rocks it out in the wigged-out, floor-writhing dance sequence from Primitive Love (1964)


NOTE: A very talented photographer called Derek Bremner was taking excellent photos at this Dr Sketchy all night long. Check out his blog to see them. I highly recommend you do. The shots of Cherry Shakewell "spanking" Luscious Luke are my favourite.