21 March 2012 Dr Sketchy DJ Set List

Hungarian glamour puss Zsa Zsa Gabor, at the height of her plastic surgery-enhanced pulchritude in the 1950s. Now a 94-year old bed-bound recluse and married to a seriously dodgy ersatz Euro-trash “prince”, Gabor’s life these days is a welter of lawsuits, health problems and accusations of abuse, neglect and exploitation - like something out of Sunset Boulevard or Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? Vanity Fair memorably explored the whole macabre and sordid story in 2007. It’s gotten even weirder since then.

Another great (sold-out!) night for Dr Sketchy at The Royal Vauxhall Tavern, this time featuring vampirically elegant emcee Dusty Limits and two seriously impressive new models / performers, Hotcake Kitty and Rose Thorne.

I’m pretty voluble about The RVT being officially my favourite venue to DJ at: the sound is thunderously loud (which is good, because the music is punctuated on a regular basis by police sirens screeching past outside. Vauxhall must be one dangerous neighbourhood!), and as an added bonus there is a big pump-top bottle of hand sanitizer gel in the DJ booth. I’m a pretty obsessive-compulsive hand washer and having this bottle of hand washing gel there is almost orgasmic for me. (I think I probably scrub my hands between changing each CD. If the management wonders about the rate of this bottle being decimated, now they know!).

For her performance the brunette Kitty (or should that be “Hotcake”?) wore an orange chiffon harem girl ensemble with Siouxsie Sioux/Cleopatra eye make-up and Bettie Page bangs. Music-wise, this raised a whole realm of possibilities. It was a fun opportunity to delve into Eastern belly dancer exotica kitsch and I really seized it. Eartha Kitt’s campy Turkish delight “Uska Dara” obviously seemed de rigueur. Every time I play Les Baxer’s apocalyptic, sex-wracked "Lust", everyone understandably assumes the astonishing multi-octave female voice wordlessly growling, grunting and screaming is Yma Sumac. Instead it belongs to the deeply obscure operatic chanteuse Bas Sheva (as in “Bathsheba”). “Lust” comes from Baxter’s 1954 album The Passions, on which he and Bas Sheva dramatically explore a different emotion on each song (the other titles include “Despair”, “Ecstasy”, “Hate”, “Terror”, “Jealousy” and “Joy”). Unfortunately, The Passions was a flop, Bas Sheva never recorded again and would die aged only 34 from diabetes-related causes. Tragic – as judging by this, she was the equal of Yma Sumac. Anyway, every time I play "Lust", I like to think Bas Sheva lives again! Even after Kitty's pose, I continued the exotica vibe into the break with a bossa nova version of "Misirlou" and Yma Sumac's delirious mambo, "Taki Rari."

/ Hotcake Kitty. Photo by Andrew Hickinbottom /

I've posted this before, but hell, it's a good excuse to post it again: Eartha Kitt slithering her serpentine way through "Uska Dara" in a 1967 TV special



Rose Thorne’s act, meanwhile, saw her costumed as an Indian squaw (complete with black braided wig and Adam Ant white stripe painted across her nose) -- think Pocahontas with massive knockers! Thematically, this posed more of a challenge than Kitty’s outfit – but I did play “Commanche” by The Revels! If only I had “Apache” by The Shadows! Otherwise, I tried to evoke a sinister atmosphere for the rest of her poses with songs that could maybe the soundtrack to a Santeria or Candomblé voodoo ritual: think of Esquerita’s wailing and knuckle-dragging piano, unearthly Theremin (“Sinner” by Freddie and The Hitchhikers), a deranged version of "She is My Witch" (The Earls of Suave), Edith Piaf’s vibrato at full-throttle (“Jezabel”).

/ Rose Thorne. Photo by Andrew Hickinbottom /

Elsewhere, I went heavy on the grinding tittyshakers and frantic rhythm and blues – both of which are always rowdy/sleazy crowd-pleasers. I always say that even if the audience don’t know who, say, Big Maybelle, LaVern Baker or Ruth Brown is, they instinctively respond to the gritty earth mother warmth, sex appeal and soulfulness of the great female black American rhythm and blues voices.

That definitely applies to Etta James. I’ve meant to write something about the former Jamesetta Hawkins ever since her death on 20 January 2012 (just short of her 74th birthday). I’ll come straight out and admit am not a massive fan of James’s best-known music (“At Last”, “I Just Wanna Make Love to You”, forever tarred by association with that awful Diet Coke ad). The only album of hers I ever owned was her 1968 classic Tell Mama, which I had when I was still a university student, and I either sold or gave it away long ago. I’m just not keen on polished 1960s soul music as a whole – I’m more of a desperate 1950s rhythm and blues man. But I can’t fail to be moved by James’s belting heartbreaker voice and her hard-bitten, tough-as-nails, heroin-ravaged life story fascinates me (I need to snap up a used copy of Rage to Survive, her 1995 autobiography on Amazon at some point). Obviously I need to delve deeper into James’s discography as she had a long career and there are inevitably gems I’m missing out on. I do regularly play her raunchy 1955 breakthrough hit “Roll with Me, Henry” at Dr Sketchy. (I also like to play Ann-Margret’s poppy, cotton candy-fluffy cover version “Dance with Me, Henry” – it’s enough to horrify any rhythm and blues purist!).

Justifiably, there have been some glowing appraisals of James’s career since her death. The two best, most heartfelt obituaries I’ve read were in London’s The Guardian and New York’s The Village Voice. The Guardian’s Garth Cartwright nicely summarizes James’s life and career thus:

“Her approach to both singing and life was throughout one of wild, often desperate engagement that included violence, drug addiction, armed robbery and highly capricious behaviour. James sang with unmatched emotional hunger and a pain that can chill the listener. The ferocity of her voice documents a neglected child, a woman constantly entering into bad relationships and an artist raging against an industry and a society that had routinely discriminated against her.”

He also astutely notes that perhaps the reason James never enjoyed much mainstream commercial success was because “perhaps her voice, so raw and emotionally expressive, was too fierce for the general public. Indeed, hurt, anger and self-destructive behavior boiled beneath the surface of her vocals. Once asked to describe her style, she responded that singing allowed her to vent "all this bitch shit inside of me"”. “All this bitch shit inside of me” – how succinct and beautiful is that? I expect that angst was also what motivated the likes of Nina Simone and Lydia Lunch, similarly volatile and turbulent artists.

In The Village Voice, Carol Cooper’s account of the very young James, at the start of her career, being advised by the doomed Billie Holiday (from “fatherless wild child to fatherless wild child”) when her life and career were circling the drain, gives me goose bumps. Cooper is also great on nailing what an “intimidating package of jailbait mojo” the gutsy and talented mixed race teenager must have been when she was discovered by visionary R&B kingpin Johnny Otis aged just 14. (James lied to Otis, telling him she was 18. Her own mother, Dorothy Hawkins, had given birth to Etta when she herself was only 14. When she was still just 16, James dated BB King and she later believed she was the inspiration for his song “Sweet Sixteen”).

Cooper argues that with the timing of the sassy “Roll with Me Henry”, “Otis coincidentally established James as a rock and roll rebel alongside the likes of Little Richard, Chuck Berry, and Jerry Lee Lewis.” Reading this passage in particular brought a tear to my eye:

“Sexually active long before cutting her first single, James had both the pipes and the real-life experience to play a bad girl with a heart of gold on record. No aspect of street life was a mystery to her; her entourage often included drag queens, gangsters, gang chicks and prostitutes. Married to the same man since 1969, and a supportive mother to her two adult sons, Etta was also a student of bourgeois propriety and understood the thin line between sin and salvation better than most. She adored Little Richard, with whom she did her first national tour and who she respected for having "the guts to be a king and queen all at the same time.""

Can you imagine what it must have been like hanging out with Etta James and Little Richard backstage in the 1950s – the debauchery?! And James also never mellowed: even as a 60-something blues mama pensioner when her health was shot and she used crutches to walk, she continued to do stripper squats and grab her crotch onstage. What a woman. It’s wrenching to think that for her last album (2011’s The Dreamer), James pulled herself together while suffering from both the leukaemia that would kill her and dementia to make one powerful final statement worthy of her reputation. Performers this tough and durable simply don’t exist anymore.

But I’m also deeply superficial, so I also love Etta James for her signature 1960s look. The artifice of the blonde bouffant wigs, the wild black eyeliner and weird eyebrows and the feather boas were deliberately trashy, almost drag queen-y and punk before its time. She was also frankly, defiantly fat (which makes the idea of Beyonce portraying her in the 2008 film Cadillac Records so risible. At one point James weighed 300 pounds. Much later in life -- once she'd finally kicked her heroin addiction -- she had a gastric band operation and slimmed down dramatically). In short, Etta James had freak appeal: she looked like a character from a John Waters film. Obviously Waters cast Ruth Brown as Motormouth Maybelle in Hairspray, but Etta James could just have easily played the role.

A blonde-wigged Etta James ripping it up on TV in the 1960s. A nice way to remember her


(The original video I posted here was better, but got deleted from Youtube! Here's a replacement that fits!)

I Just Don't Understand - Ann-Margret
Unchain My Heart - Florence Joelle's Kiss of Fire
Oui je veux - Johnny Hallyday
Little Ole Wine Drinker Me - Robert Mitchum
Good Grief - The Revels
Oo Ba La Baby - Mamie Van Doren
Woman Love - Gene Vincent
Iced Tea - The Capers
Last Night - Lula Reed
Yogi - The Bill Black Combo
Tidal Wave - Sonny Gee & The Standels
Here Comes the Bug - The Rumblers
He's The One - Ike and Tina Turner
The Sneak - Jimmy Oliver
Pass the Hatchet - Roger and The Gypsies
The Flirt - Shirley and Lee
Greasy Chicken - Andre Williams
Wino - Jack McVea
No More, No Less - Carmen Taylor
Sweetie Pie - Eddie Cochran
I Was Born to Cry - Johnny Thunders and Patti Paladin
Tear Drops from My Eyes - Ruth Brown
I'll Drown in My Own Tears - Lula Reed
Directly from My Heart - Little Richard
Fool I Am - Pat Ferguson
Night Scene - The Rumblers
Mexican - The Fentones
La Bamba - Eartha Kitt
Peter Gunn Twist - The Jesters
Catwalk - Jack Constanzo
Uska Dara - Eartha Kitt
Caravan - John Buzon Trio
I Love How You ... Lydia Lunch
Shangri-La - Spike Jones New Band
Monkey Bird - The Revels
The Maharajah of Megador - The Blue Echoes
Lust - Les Baxter
Misirlou - Laurindo Almeida and The Bossa Nova All-Stars
Taki Rari - Yma Sumac
La Javanaise - Serge Gainsbourg
Love for Sale - Hildegard Knef
Drums A Go-Go - The Hollywood Persuaders
La Java - Juliette Greco
Commanche - The Revels
Esquerita and the Voola - Esquerita
She's My Witch - The Earls of Suave
Jezabel - Edith Piaf
Boss - The Rumblers
Sinner - Freddie and the Hitchikers
Boots - Nero and The Gladiators
Crawlin' - The Untouchables
Black Tarantula - Jody Reynolds
Drummin' Up a Storm - Sandy Nelson
Hulla Hulla Lulu - Beecher Hickman
When Love Goes Wrong - Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell
The Beast - Milt Buckner
Hand Clapping Time - The Fabulous Raiders
Roll with Me, Henry - Etta James
Beat Party - Ritchie and The Squires
Tornado - Dale Hawkins
Begin the Beguine - Billy Fury
Tall Cool One - The Wailers
You Can't Stop Her - Bobby Marchan
The Girl Can't Help It - Little Richard
Fever - Timi Yuro

10 March 2012 Dr Sketchy Set List

/ When Marilyn met Marlene: Monroe and Dietrich photographed circa the mid-1950s. Dietrich (born in 1901) could have comfortably been Monroe’s mother (Marilyn was born in 1926; Dietrich’s own daughter, Maria Riva, was born in 1924), not that you’d know it judging by this photo. Dietrich, of course, was a “joyous(ly) bisexual Good Time Charlene” (description courtesy of Kenneth Anger’s Hollywood Babylon). I forget the source now, but I remember reading an account of Dietrich being at a Hollywood party when Marilyn arrived late and already tipsy. Monroe was wearing a white fur coat, and there was a smear of her bright red lipstick on the collar. Dietrich told a friend afterwards that she found it “maddeningly erotic.” I’ve always remembered that expression: maddeningly erotic /

For this relaxed, enjoyable (and sold-out!) afternoon Dr Sketchy at The Old Queen’s Head, the performers / models were burlesque starlets Slinky Sparkles and Emerald Fontaine, with the raucous Ophelia Bitz (the Tallulah Bankhead du nos jours) on emcee duties. “Release the repressed sexual urges you’ve been holding back all week ...” Ophelia urged the audience, only to later accuse them of “leering and touching yourselves under the table.”

/ Ms Bitz and I. I'd been sweating to the oldies behind the DJ booth. Ophelia is placing her hand to cover my arm pit sweat patch. What a woman! Photo by Clare Marie /

Emerald and Slinky certainly facilitated the leering and self-touching. I’d never worked with raven-haired, bullet-bra'd, pencil skirted and hardboiled bad girl Emerald before. Her act was very much a tribute to the cinema of trash auteur John Waters (Ophelia introduced her as “John Waters’ wet dream”), which obviously won my instant approval. The music for her burlesque number was “Jungle Drums” by Earl Bostick (from the Cry-baby soundtrack); it started with a lollipop-sucking Emerald as a hitchhiking runaway trying to thumb a ride, holding a sign emblazoned “Baltimore” (think teenaged delinquent Dawn Davenport in Female Trouble running away from home, or sulky Traci Lords in Cry-baby). For her poses, I happily wallowed in songs from John Waters’ soundtracks (his sleazy musical selections have always been a huge inspiration for me anyway) from films like Pink Flamingos, Cry-baby and A Dirty Shame, as well as tracks that sound like they could be from a John Waters film.

 / She's got it, ooh baby she's got it: Emerald Fontaine photographed by Andrew Hickinbottom (all photos from the day are by him unless indicated) /

Later, platinum blonde Marilyn Monroe lookalike Slinky Sparkles did a spectacular fan dance routine. For her poses, I raised the tone a bit with twinkly cocktail music cooed by sex kittens like Marilyn Monroe (playing at least a few tracks by Marilyn is de rigueur when Slinky models), Julie London, Ann-Margret, Diana Dors and Jayne Mansfield.

/ Series of photos of Ophelia Bitz and I ogling Slinky Sparkles in action. Photos by Andrew Hickinbottom /

Otherwise, a loose “chicken”-related theme cropped up (remember the scene in Pink Flamingos where Cookie and Crackers have sex and a live chicken gets involved in the action? I’m sure you’re still as traumatised by it as I am. Anyway, the song used in that sequence is “Chicken Grabber” by The Nite Hawks) and also a Latino / Mexican theme (which perhaps climaxed with Eartha Kitt’s berserk version of “La Bamba”, from her Eartha canta en Espanol album). As is my wont, I also went on a gynaecological musical journey to the centre of a girl with a series of single-entendre "pussy" songs (from Faye Richmonde's "My Pussy Belongs to Daddy" to "Can Your Pussy Do the Dog?" by The Cramps).

/ Emerald Fontaine and Slinky Sparkles together. Photo by Leigh Van Der Byl /

Not to get nostalgic on your asses, but I know both Slinky and Clare Marie (Dr Sketchy’s imperturbable promoter / stage manager) in the first place because we all worked together at deluxe faux vintage lingerie emporium What Katie Did when its London boutique first opened in 2007. (They worked there full-time; I was just the occasional “Saturday boy” who worked the till, ran to the post office, climbed ladders and yes, occasionally, when necessary strapped semi-naked women into a corset with trembling hands). None of us work there now (although Slinky still regularly models for What Katie Did), but if it hadn’t been for my brief but fun stint there, I would never have met Clare Marie, who went on to promote Dr Sketchy and helped instigate my DJ’ing career (now you know who to blame! The reason I got my Saturday boy position is because way back in the 1990s, Katie Halford, What Katie Did’s founder and boss lady, and I used to work together for a fetish mail order company – but that’s a whole other sordid can of worms).

Anyway, What Katie Did continues to go from strength to strength, and recently even opened a “sister” boutique in Los Angeles. On Sunday 4 March 2012, What Katie Did held an in-store party and fashion show to launch their Spring/Summer 2012 range. It was all very chi chi and frou frou: gin cocktails served in vintage tea cups, chocolate cupcakes branded with the WKD logo, etc. The party was a blast. Here’s just a handful of pics (by me, except for the one I’m in, which I swiped from Facebook!).



/ Surrounded by bullet bras and suspender belts – my natural habitat! Left to right: Therese (Swedish rockabilly, my George & Dragon drinking buddy – we enable each other!), me, Katie Halford herself (the founder of What Katie Did), and Katie’s adorable daughter Poppy. Expert bartender Poppy poured out the drinks into vintage tea cups without spilling a drop. I drink gin out of a tea cup so daintily /



/ This photo is a bit of who's who of burlesque / cabaret starlets on the rise: Sophia St Villier (who'd actually modelled in the What Katie Did lingerie fashion show earlier), Ava Iscariot (both Sophia and Ava are frequent Dr Sketchy models and performers) and Luna DeLovely /



/ Kayee and Therese having a cigarette break outside /

See more photos from the party (and the actual lingerie in the fashion show) here

Finally: speaking of Sophia St Villier, she recently did a smouldering photo session inspired by the paintings of Tamara De Lempicka, which is well worth checking out here. NSFW alert!


Make the World Go Away - Timi Yuro
Torture - Kris Jensen
Stop and Listen - Mickey and Ludella
The Fire of Love - Jody Reynolds
Riding By - The Majestics
Oop Shoop - Big John and The Buzzards
Matilda, Matilda - Robert Mitchum
When I Get Low, I Get High - Florence Joelle and Her Kiss of Fire
I Put A Spell on You - Screamin' Jay Hawkins
Give Me Your Lov - Ike and Tina Turner
Rock It - The Rockin' Brothers
Screwdriver - Luchi
Chicken Boogie - Ralph Marterie
Kiss Me Honey Honey - The Delmonas
Souvenir, Souvenir - Johnny Hallyday
Salamander - Mamie Van Doren
Blockade - The Rumblers
Ring of Fire - The Earls of Suave
La Bamba - Eartha Kitt
The Mexican - The Fentones
Surfin' Snow Matador - Jan Davis
Eso - Conjunto TNT
Chihuahua - Mina
Besame Mucho - Betty Reilly
Chicken Talk - Yma Sumac
Love Potion # 9 - Nancy Sit
The Girls in Paris - Lee Hazlewood
Night Scene - The Rumblers
I Would if I Could - Ruth Brown
A Cruise to the Moon - Lydia Lunch
Sweetie Pie - Eddie Cochran
Boss - The Rumblers
I'm a Bad, Bad Girl - Little Esther
Save It - Mel Robbins
Hand Clapping Time - The Fabulous Raiders
Drummin' Up A Storm - Sandy Nelson
Cry-baby - The Honey Sisters
Let's Go Sexin' - James Intveld
Chicken Hawk - The Nite Hawks
No Good Lover - Mickey and Sylvia
Uptown to Harlem - Johnny Thunders and Patti Paladin
The Flirt - Shirley and Lee
Roll with Me Henry - Etta James
Jim Dandy - LaVerne Baker
Lucille - Little Richard
Maybe Baby - Esquerita
Kruschev Twist - Melvin Gayle
8 Ball - The Hustlers
Fever - Nancy Sit
Wiped-Out - The Escorts
La valse des si - Juliette Greco
Mondo Moodo - The Earls of Suave
Harlem Nocturne - The Viscounts
Kiss - Marilyn Monroe
A Kiss and a Cuddle - Diana Dors
Love Me or Leave Me - Lena Horne
Go Slow - Julie London
Slowly - Ann-Margret
Little Things Mean a Lot - Jayne Mansfield
Two Little Girls from Little Rock - Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell
Bikini with No Top on the Top - Mamie Van Doren and June Wilkinson
My Pussy Belongs to Daddy - Faye Richmonde
Sweet Little Pussycat - Andre Williams
The Pussycat Song - Connie Vannett
Can Your Pussy Do the Dog? The Cramps
Boots - Nero and The Gladiators
Beat Party - Ritchie and The Squires
Wondrous Place - Billy Fury
Witchcraft - Elvis Presley
Early Every Morning - Dinah Washington
Love Me or Leave Me - Nina Simone
Let's Get Lost - Chet Baker

Double Take!

Cast your mind back to Season 1, episode 8 of Mad Men (for me, the only TV show that matters. Here in the UK, evil tycoon Rupert "Montgomery Burns" Murdoch has poached Mad Men from the BBC for his Sky Atlantic cable station. Which I don’t subscribe to – so how the hell I’ll ever see the much-yearned for Season 5 I’ll never know. But I digress).

Anyway, in this episode outwardly suave but inwardly tormented Brylcreemed ad exec Don Draper swings by a party thrown by his volatile beatnik mistress Midge, where the bohemian East Village guests lounge around listening to 1950s Cool Jazz (Kind of Blue by Miles Davis, to be precise) and smoke reefer. When Don arrives at the Beat party, the door to Midge’s apartment is opened by ... me?

OK, so this actor (I've done a cursory Google search and can't find a screen credit for him) is considerably more handsome than me (and inevitably taller. At 5'6", I'm jockey sized). And I wouldn't touch that earth-toned paisley shirt with a barge pole. But the scruffy ginger facial hair. The vintage horn-rimmed glasses. The pasty complexion. It’s not even like I’m averse to donning a fez on occasion ...

Photo via


(New Year's Eve 2009: International sex kitten Magda and I. Dig those phallic balloons in the background!)


(Another shot from New Year's Eve 2009)

Before this, the closest I’ve had to a doppelganger in real life was the first time I ever went to the Viva Las Vegas rockabilly weekender in 2003. That weekend a female friend told me that she’d seen me coming down the escalator, went to say Hi and when she got closer she gasped – it looked exactly like me, but wasn’t me. Turns out my lookalike was French, and his name was Jean-Paul. Before the end of the weekend, my friend managed to introduce us. I don’t think he was flattered by the comparison! That was nine years ago – I think I look more like Jean-Paul now than I did then. On that weekend (my dream holiday I’d been looking forward to and saving for, my first time in Vegas) I was stricken with shingles! When the rash erupted it was like a Biblical curse, disgusting and painful. Luckily it happened towards the end of the weekend rather than the beginning. After returning from the doctor’s office, I collapsed in bed tripping on a cocktail of ultra powerful antiviral medication and prescription pain killers. The TV was on in the hotel room, tuned into CNN. While I lay there delirious, hair drenched in sweat, I heard a newscaster’s voice solemnly announce, “Jazz and blues legend Nina Simone has died aged 70 ...” So that’s how I always know exactly what I was doing on 21 April 2003.


Jean-Paul and I in Las Vegas, 2003.

15 February 2012 Dr Sketchy Set List

/ Brigitte Bardot, the ne plus ultra of sex kittens /

“What a difference a day makes.” Dinah Washington really knew what she meant when she sang that. Like I said last time, the Valentine's night Dr Sketchy at The Old Queen’s Head was a bit of a stressful ordeal. Because it had sold out so far in advance, there was sufficient demand (and enough disappointed punters who couldn't get tickets) for Dr Sketchy’s glamorous promoter Clare Marie to quickly organise an extra Dr Sketchy (this time at The Royal Vauxhall Tavern) the following night – which also promptly sold out. (Yes, we’re on fire at the moment). And this one was one of the best Dr Sketchies ever. The whole night was one of those Dr Sketchies where everything flowed smoothly, felt relaxed (certainly DJ’ing this time felt as effortless as pissing. How elegant!), and was just fun to do (bear in mind I'd DJ'd two nights in a row plus got up at 7 am for the office job. I was feeling like a zombie) -- something Clare Marie and I agreed about afterwards.

Certainly the line-up was a bit of a dream team. The mistress of ceremonies was the irrepressible Ophelia Bitz. Last time I’d seen Ophelia was 9 February 2012, when I DJ’d at the triumphant finale of her ArtWank! residency. (ArtWank! is the “porn chic” cabaret night Ophelia organises). Reliably, Ms Bitz was on peak form (she came out wearing a micro-mini dress, apologising to the front row for the view. Don’t worry: she was sporting leopard print panties underneath. She wasn’t giving them that much of an eyeful! Ophelia did warn something about the "ferret's head" popping out. What a vivid image). For the performers/models we had not one but two members of burlesque aristocracy and long-term Dr Sketchy favourites, Cherry Shakewell and Marianne Cheesecake.

Marianne and Cherry both have very distinctive (and completely different) stage personas, so it was a fun challenge coming up with music appropriate for them. Marianne channels 1920s flapper glamour (think Anna May Wong or Josephine Baker), very louche and decadent. (Years ago there was a biography of Josephine Baker entitled Jazz Cleopatra; watching Marianne Cheesecake perform, the name could just as accurately apply to her). Musically, I aimed for high drama and elegance: Continental types (Serge Gainsbourg, Juliette Greco, Mina, the French Francoise Hardy huskily exhaling tragic German lyrics), some slinky instrumentals. I’d mentioned before how the bleak, alienated Weimar depravity of "Lazy" by San Francisco punk band The Nuns seemed to anticipate Nico’s majestic 1985 interpretation of "My Funny Valentine." I finally got to play these two black-hearted confessionals back-to-back: imagine the aural equivalent of someone handing you a bouquet of a dozen dead roses.

I've posted both of these before ... but fuck it!




Kitten with a whip Cherry Shakewell’s image, meanwhile, is brasher and more rock’n’roll: think 1960s go-go dancer in a cage, the sexploitation cinema of Russ Meyer, or Nancy Sinatra’s white lipsticked pout and leonine mane of teased blonde hair. For her poses, I cranked up the sleazy tittyshakers and paid a mini-tribute to Jayne Mansfield. I also worked in Bardot snarling over the 1960s garage-punk of “Harley Davidson”, and what for me should be Cherry’s theme tune (“Cherry” by doo-wop group The Jive Bombers, from the soundtrack to John Waters’ Cry-Baby). When the two of them posed together at the end, as per usual I reached for one of the Marilyn Monroe-Jane Russell Gentlemen Prefer Blondes duets (apt in this case, because Marianne and Cherry are a brunette and platinum blonde combo).

/ Marianne Cheesecake and Cherry Shakewell. Photo by the very talented Andrew Hickinbottom /

Coincidentally, the very next night (16 February), Time Out Magazine held its first ever London Cabaret Awards to officially recognise just how vital, creative and exciting London’s bleeding edge cabaret / burlesque scene has grown in recent years. I’m proud to say that some of the performers who frequently grace Dr Sketchy stages won, and won big. One of our much-loved regular emcees, the perennially soigné Dusty Limits won Best Host or Compere. Epicentre of fun The Royal Vauxhall Tavern (my all-time favourite place to DJ at, especially once I worked out how to stop turning on the dry ice machine by mistake. Ah, we can laugh about it now) was awarded Best Cabaret Venue.

And Kiki Kaboom won Best Burlesque Performer. I’ve only had the pleasure of working with showgirl deluxe Ms Kaboom once way back in September 2010, but it was memorably fun. Afterwards she and I liaised about potential music for her to use on the soundtrack of her showreel video. She wanted a sexy, upbeat instrumental. I proposed the ultra-twang-y, sexily grinding 1963 number "Boss" by Southern Californian surf band The Rumblers (they named themselves after the Link Wray classic “Rumble”). Driven along by blurting saxophone, “Boss” is two minutes and twenty two seconds of tense, haven't-been-laid-in-a-week sleazy urgency, and has long been one of my DJ’ing staples. (If the song sounds familiar, it’s because The Cramps swiped it as the basis for one of their most-loved “gravest hits”, "Garbageman" from their 1980 Songs the Lord Taught Us album). Anyway, Kiki used it. I’ve posted her showreel before, but here it is again.



/ Here's a more recent sampling of the wit and wisdom of Kiki Kaboom – gleefully puncturing some of the clichés surrounding the burlesque scene. (The music on the soundrack is "Rumble" by Link Wray, funnily enough!) /




The Sneak - Jimmy Oliver
When I Get Low, I Get High - Florence Joelle's Kiss of Fire
One More Beer - The Earls of Suave
Hurt Is All You Gave Me - Ike and Tina Turner
Get Back, Baby - Esquerita
The Stalk - The Giants
Stranger in My Own Home Town - Elvis Presley (X-rated "blue" version)
Like A Rolling Stone - Mamie Van Doren
Wiped Out - The Escorts
The Fire of Love - Jody Reynolds
I Ain't in the Mood for Love - Helen Humes
Revellion - The Revels
I Stubbed My Toe - Bryan "Legs" Walker
A Week from Tuesday - The Pastels
Sweetie Pie - Eddie Cochran
Fool I Am - Pat Ferguson
Go Girl Go - Jett Powers
Beaver Shot - The Periscopes
Roll with Me, Henry - Etta James
Cooler Weather is A-Comin' - Eddie Weldon
Eager Beaver Baby - Johnny Burnette
Miss Irene - Ginny Kennedy
Pass The Hatchet - Roger and The Gypsies
The Chase - Chaino
Night Scene - The Rumblers
Strange Love - Slim Harpo
Sick and Tired - Lula Reed
Blues, Blues, Blues - Hayden Thompson
The Strangeness in Me - The Runabouts
My Heart Goes Piddily Patter, Patter - Nappy Brown
I Ain't Drunk, I'm Just Drinkin' - Jimmy Liggins
A Cruise to the Moon - Lydia Lunch
Some Small Chance - Serge Gainsbourg (Strip-tease soundtrack)
Mon cœur n'était pas fait pour ça - Juliette Greco
Turquoise - Milt Buckner
Lazy - The Nuns
My Funny Valentine - Nico
Traume - Francoise Hardy
Make Love to Me - June Christie
Un ano d'amore - Mina
Handclappin' Time - The Fabulous Raiders
8-Ball - The Hustlers
Witchcraft - Elvis Presley
Mack the Knife - Ann-Margret
No Good Lover - Mickey and Sylvia
Crawfish - Johnny Thunders and Patti Paladin
Drummin' Up a Storm - Sandy Nelson
I Walk Like Jayne Mansfield - The 5,6,7,8s
That Makes It - Jayne Mansfield
Boots - Nero and The Gladiators
Cherry - The Jive Bombers
Beat Party - Ritchie and The Squires
Black Tarantula - Jody Reynolds
Harley Davidson - Brigitte Bardot
The Coo - Wayne Cochran
I'm a Bad, Bad Girl - Little Esther
Two Little Girls from Little Rock - Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell
La Javanaise - Serge Gainsbourg
The Pussycat Song - Connie Vannett
Accentuate the Positive - The Bill Black Combo
Chicken Grabber - The Nite Hawks
All of Me - Mae West
Chattanooga Choo Choo - Denise Darcel
Blue Kat - Chuck Rio and The Originals
So Long - Ruth Brown

14 February 2012 Anti-Valentine's Day Dr Sketchy

/ Happy Valentine's Day, Darling: Sophia Loren having an orgasmic reaction to a bouquet of yellow roses /

I’d been looking forward to the Valentine’s night Dr Sketchy at The Old Queen’s Head for ages. All the ingredients were in place: The night had sold out long in advance. The crowd was buzzing, rowdy and enthusiastic. The talent for the night was top notch: emcee Claire Benjamin (in character as Freuda Kahlo), two sizzling burlesque performers and models (and Dr Sketchy veterans), Sophia St. Villier and Honey Wilde.

Weirdly, for me (and I'm speaking excusively for myself!) the night wound up feeling anti-climactic, stressful, and not one of the more memorable or enjoyable Dr Sketchy nights in recent memory. For some reason the sound was murky and muffled and no one at the Old Queen’s Head seemed to know how to fix it (it improved somewhat later in the night). It got things off to a bad start for me and I stayed jangled the rest of the night. As per usual, I got one of the long-suffering Claire Benjamin’s musical cues wrong. Musically, I wasn't on top form - I suspect things sounded disjointed and abrupt rather than smooth and flowing, as I obviously prefer! In my head I had intended to go for a lush, romantic 1950s Cool Jazz-inspired set in honour of Valentine’s Day, but wasn’t feeling particularly on top of things so it didn’t wind up being that for the most part at all. (Like the 2011 Valentine's Day Dr Sketchy at The Old Queen's Head, though, I did make a point of dropping in three different versions of the Rogers and Hart standard “My Funny Valentine” at climactic moments: the Chet Baker instrumental, the Chet Baker vocal and finally Nico’s morbid dirge-like interpretation). Obviously, the main thing is, all three performers were brilliant and the audience seemed to enjoy themselves.

/ Above: Sophia St. Villier with her favourite portrait of the night. To me, it evokes Ann-Margrock (aka that other red-haired vixen, Ann-Margret) from her guest appearance on The Flintstones -- but Ann-Margrock making the rude, universal pussy-eating gesture! Photo by Honey Wilde /

Death, death, DEATH: this Dr Sketchy was after all called an “Anti-Valentine’s event”, so why not get ghoulish in this post? I recently posted about the demise of Jennifer Miro, icy platinum blonde chanteuse for pioneering San Francisco punk band The Nuns. Obviously music fans have been rocked by the recent deaths of soul legend Etta James and troubled superstar Whitney Houston since then. For me, 4 February 2012 represented two grim anniversaries: foaming-at-the-mouth Cramps frontman (front lunatic?) Lux Interior died 4 February 2009 aged 62. Snarling Russ Meyer leading lady and burlesque artist Tura Satana died 4 February 2011 aged 72. Between them these two pretty much defined for me not just timeless cool, but a whole realm (parallel universe?) of vital, lurid low-life sleaze-allure. Certainly both Tura Satana (and the films of Russ Meyer) and Lux Interior (and the music of The Cramps) shaped my worldview at an impressionable age. RIP.

/ Lux Interior and Poison Ivy of The Cramps: The much-loved Addams Family of punk. Or were they The Munsters of punk? Let's have a heated debate! /

/ Tura Satana ... awesome /

I never got to meet Ms Satana (although I know people who interviewed her). I did, however, have a wonderful encounter with The Cramps as a callow youth in 1990. They were touring in support of their Stay Sick! album (so it was the line-up featuring Bettie Page-tastic brunette Candy Del Mar on bass) and I interviewed them prior to their gig at The Rialto in Montreal for my university newspaper. I’ll never forget the heart-stopping spectacle of The Cramps arriving for their sound-check that afternoon: a zombie-pale fetish-y outlaw gang, a symphony of leopard skin, glistening black rubber and seriously insolent dark shades. These weren’t costumes or personas they wriggled-into for the stage – The Cramps lived it full-time! In fact I seem to recall the 6’3” Lux was already wearing a pair of women’s size 13 patent leather pumps when he arrived for the sound-check. Watching their sound-check gave me goose bumps, then afterwards I interviewed Poison Ivy alone. She apologized that Lux wouldn’t be joining us, but he wasn’t feeling well. I got the impression he had a thunderous hangover. Earlier I'd overheard an employee of The Rialto showing him the catering on offer. “There’s bagels, there’s doughnuts, there’s muffins ...” and Lux suddenly barked, “I just want coffee!” Sometimes only strong, black coffee (life's rich black blood) will suffice. Who amongst us can’t relate to that?

Anyway, interviewing the gracious Poison Ivy (a strikingly beautiful ageless enigma in a leopard skin coat and a pair of diamante-trimmed cat’s eye sunglasses) was a dream and a memory I treasure. I haven’t had a record player in many years, but I still have the Bad Music for Bad People and Stay Sick! albums Ivy autographed for me. The Cramps were one of those bands you assumed would be around forever. They formed in 1976; it was only Lux’s death in 2009 that split them up. Hmmm -- one of these days I should get my act together and post the interview as a blog on here.

The audio and visual quality isn't great (this is the only version I could find on Youtube), but "Bikini Girls with Machine Guns" is one of The Cramps's essential statements, and it dates from when I interviewed them in Montreal.



I Only Have Eyes for You - The Flamingos
Life is But a Dream - The Harptones
Willow Weep for Me - The Whistling Artistry Of Muzzy Marcellino
Melancholy Serenade - King Curtis
Dansero - Don Baker Trio
Anytime - The Bill Black Combo
Town without Pity - James Chance
Sea of Love - The Earls of Suave
Drive In - The Jaguars
Wiped Out - The Escorts
Train to Nowhere - The Champs
Jungle Drums - Earl Bostick
Pass The Hatchet - Roer and The Gypsies
Dance with Me Henry - Ann-Margret
Born to Cry - Dion
Sweetie Pie - Eddie Cochran
Follow the Leader - Wiley Terry
Baby, I'm Doin' It - Annisteen Allen
I Ain't Drunk - Jimmy Liggins
Rockin' Out the Blues - Musical Linn Twins
Green Mosquito - The Tune Rockers
The Mexican - The Fentones
Pretty Good Love - Big Maybelle
I Love the Life I Live - Esquerita
Are You Nervous? The Instrumentals
Czterdziesci Kasztanów (Forty Chestnuts)- Violetta Villas
Virgenes Del Sol - Yma Sumac
Cherry Pink - Bill Black Combo
Sexe - Line Renaud
My Funny Valentine - Chet Baker (instrumental)
Deep Dark Secret - Lizabeth Scott
Lonely Hours - Sarah Vaughan
You're My Thrill - Dolores Gray
La Javanaise - Serge Gainsbourg
Handclapping Time - The Fabulous Raiders
Vesuvius - The Revels
What Do You Think I Am? Ike and Tina Turner
Here Comes the Bug - The Rumblers
Khrushchev Twist - Melvin Gayle
Drummin' Up a Storm - Sandy Nelson
Fever - Timi Yuro
Anasthasia - Bill Smith Combo
My Funny Valentine - Chet Baker (vocal)
You're Crying - Dinah Washington
I'm Through with Love - Marilyn Monroe
My Funny Valentine - Nico
I Walk like Jayne Mansfield - The 5,6,7,8s
Caterpillar Crawl - The Strangers
Boots - Nero & The Gladiators
Sick and Tired - Lula Reed
The Flirt - Shirley and Lee
The Girl Can't Help It - Little Richard

In conclusion: my good friend Sparkle Moore recently posted this video on my Facebook wall, suggesting the berserk operatic Austro-German diva Marika Rökk could be an alternative for much-missed berserk operatic Polska diva Violetta Villas (death -- again!). Watching this, Sparkle might have a point! It's from a 1958 German musical called Bühne frei für Marika (which translates as something like The Stage is Set for Marika -- so in theory she's playing herself!). Sadly, I somehow doubt this title is available on LOVEFiLM. This clip of Rökk as a sexy alien singing "Mir ist so langweilig" ("I'm So Bored", according to Google Translate), crash-landing her space ship on earth -- and then wrestling with a snake and cavorting with a group of spear-carrying Africans in the jungle is so trippy, bizarre and kitsch ... it's beyond words! You have to experience for yourself ...



As an added bonus, listen to a track by Rokk on The Homoerratic Radio Show blog

A Violetta Villas Valentine's Day!

To everyone who finds themselves single on Valentine's Day -- Violetta Villas feels your pain! Listen to the late, great Polska diva (1938 - 2011) cast aside boring concepts like "nuance" and "restraint" and tear the weepy Barbra Streisand ballad "Free Again" a whole new *sshole on her ultra-campy 1970 TV special. She really RAMPAGES through the song for almost five whole minutes (I especially love how Violetta punctuates the song with bitter little laughs). This posting is timely in more ways than one: Violetta's last-ever public concert was on 14 February 2011 (exactly one year ago today), after which she retired from performing and was dead by the end of the year.

Happy Valentine's Day!

ArtWank! DJ Set List 9 February 2012

/ Wanting it, wanting it, wanting it: 1960s pin-up of a cotton candy-haired Jayne Mansfield /

I begged. I cajoled. I wheedled. I even pouted. And now finally I was able to shamelessly jump on Ophelia Bitz's bandwagon! It was my pleasure to DJ at the big finale of ArtWank!’s residency at The Royal Vauxhall Tavern. To anyone who’s not au fait, ArtWank! is vivacious cabaret starlet Ophelia Bitz’s brilliant and raunchy club night centring on screenings of her vast collection of mostly 1920s vintage stag films (think grainy, flickering black and white porn starring long-dead people).

/ Porno Diva Ophelia Bitz gets a grip on herself: She's a bad, BAD girl. Do not encourage her! (Photo by Tom Medwell) /

In the early 1970s when porn flicks bubbled up from the warm, fetid squalor of the underground and started grossing serious money, it became a titillating, tantalising taboo-thrill for the chattering classes to go see the likes of Linda Lovelace in Deep Throat or Marilyn Chambers in Behind the Green Door at their local dirty movie sleaze pit. This pop culture phenomenon was called “porn chic” and was ultimately short-lived. Ophelia (who, of course, regularly emcees at Dr Sketchy – that’s how I know her in the first place) is on a one-woman mission to rehabilitate the porn chic concept and make porn-viewing a fun, communal, boozy, post-feminist and “sex positive” experience (as opposed to a solitary, furtive one in front of your lap top, PC or DVD player. With a box of Kleenex and some moisturiser. I assume). Assisted by her trusty assistant Le Porn Ferret on the laptop, Ophelia also frequently spices up proceedings with live onstage burlesque performances and musical acts. Anyway, trust me: ArtWank! is porn-tacular! It’s porn-tastic!

So I leapt at the opportunity to DJ on Ophelia's last night at The RVT (her ArtWank! residency this time was 19 January – 9 February). I was accompanied by my friends Mia (I call her Mayan Ruin; she was born in Guatemala) and Dan. The night was a blast, transporting you back to a decadent Jazz Age velvet-lined Parisian brothel (most of Ophelia’s erotica is French, but considering they’re silent movies anyway it doesn’t really matter).

A sampling of the cornucopia of filth you can expect to see at ArtWank! (How this escaped Youtube’s censors I’ll never know. Enjoy it while you can!).



The guest musical performer was crotch-thrusting, ass-shaking, spandex-clad cock rocker Damn Fluid. His back story is that he’s the former lead singer of the glam/Heavy Metal band Ramshaft who’s now hit hard times. Recall the full horror of 1980s hair metal or poodle metal, as it used to be called (Damn Fluid himself sports a crimped, exploding fright wig on his head, a symphony of split ends). His Facebook page says Damn Fluid’s act “captures the ambiance of a last-call rock band at a 1980s East Berlin brothel” and it’s not wrong. He had me from his explosive opening number “Daddy Fuck Machine”(in which he roars, “Slap my face / I’m super keen / I’m your daddy fuck machine!”), after which he announced solemnly in a Welsh accent, “I’d like to dedicate that song to me Gran.”

My set lasted about an hour, so it was a short intense burst (ejaculation?) of vintage sleaze. Gratifyingly, most of the crowd stuck around to continue drinking and listening to the music instead of getting their coats and splitting right away, and the gracious Ms Bitz kept me topped up with beer. It was mostly frantic Las Vegas Grind tittyshakers a go-go, but I also worked-in some rockabilly (Eddie Cochran, Gene Vincent, Ricky Nelson, Elvis), urgent rhythm & blues (Ike and Tina, the late, great Etta James), cooing sex kittens (Ann-Margret, Jayne Mansfield, Brigitte Bardot, Mamie Van Doren), mini-tributes to filmmakers (songs from soundtrack of Kenneth Anger’s seminal gay biker/fetish classic Scorpio Rising -- truly a film to base your life around -- and various John Waters classicks). Appropriately - considering the smut we’d all just watched – I ended things on a gynaecological note (courtesy of Andre Williams, The Cramps and Connie Vannett).

Handclapping Time - The Fabulous Raiders
Beat Party - Ritchie & The Squires
Are You Nervous? The Instrumentals
Drummin' Up a Storm - Sandy Nelson
Ain't That Lovin' You, Baby - The Earls of Suave
Comin' Home, Baby - The Delmonas
Pass The Hatchet - Roger & The Gypsies
Suey - Jayne Mansfield
Boots - Nero & The Gladiators
Dragon Walk - The Noblemen
Jim Dandy - Ann-Margret
Born to Cry - Dion
Beat Girl - Adam Faith
Makin' Out - Jody Reynolds
L'appareil a sous - Brigitte Bardot
Boss - The Rumblers
Roll with Me, Henry - Etta James
Chicken Shack - Ike and Tina Turner
Wipe Out - The Escorts
Beat Generation - Mamie Van Doren
Intoxica - The Centurions
Let's Go Sexin' - James Intveld
Devil in Disguise - Elvis Presley
Fools Rush In - Ricky Nelson
The Coo - Wayne Cochran
Scorpion - The Carnations
Sweetie Pie - Eddie Cochran
Woman Love - Gene Vincent
Sweet Little Pussycat - Andre Williams
Can Your Pussy Do the Dog? The Cramps
Pussycat Song - Connie Vannett

Tittyshaker deluxe: Bettie Page embraces the spirit of ArtWank!. Musical backing: "Are You Nervous?" by The Instrumentals