Canada Bound

I’m blowing this gosh forsaken heckhole (to paraphrase Marge Simpson) tomorrow to go to Canada (depart 23 August, arrive back on 2 September. Am sure I’ll be kissing the tarmac at Heathrow airport when I get back. Visiting Canada once a year is great, but I miss London while am there). I pretty much go annually, usually around the beginning of September as soon as peak travel season is over and the prices return to normal. This year I nabbed a decent affordable-ish flight for August, so am hoping the weather will be good and I’ll be going to the beach every day (my mother’s house in rural Quebec is walking distance from the beach).

Don’t suppose anyone has urgent tips on breaking the news to your mother you now have big tattoos on your arms? I’ve not mentioned it in advance and think just taking off my jacket and waiting for her to notice isn’t the right approach! Most of you probably don’t realize quite how rural / square my background is (the reason I hot footed it to London in the early 90s in the first place). Am just hoping it won't be a big emotional scene! I’m intending to take the “I waited until I was 41” angle. Wish me luck.

In the meantime, please watch this brief clip for a snapshot of Canadian culture and politics, and reflect on this woman’s wise words about bilingualism.

20 August 2011 Dr Sketchy DJ Set List

Rare glimpse of Jayne Mansfield as a brunette (her natural colour. Great line in the film Kiss Them For Me: Cary Grant compliments Jayne on her beautiful hair, and she coos, "Thank you. It's all natural. Except for the colour.")

On this occasion we were back at The Paradise in Kensal Green for an intimate and private Dr Sketchy as part of a woman’s hen party. (I’ve been living in the UK for almost twenty years now, but I seem to recall in North America these are called bachelorette parties: a party organised for a woman getting married and her female friends).

It may have been a small-scale Dr Sketchy, but the bride-to-be lucked-out, because it was quite star-studded, featuring the urbane Dusty Limits as emcee (he was splitting to perform at The Edinburgh Festival the next day) and for the models, pulchritude of both the male and female variety (burlesque elite Hooray Henry Higgins and Sophia St Villier respectively, both seasoned Dr Sketchy veterans). (Speaking of male pulchritude, I noted that The Paradise has a strapping, lanky broad-shouldered new bartender: Sonic Youth t-shirt, black nail polish on one hand like early 1970s Lou Reed circa Transformer, punk-y safety pin in his ear. Sigh. But if I’ve learned anything in 2011, it’s to stay the fuck away from the bar staff where I DJ).

Anyway, it shaped up to be a fun time: the girls in the hen party were rowdy, good-natured and up for a laugh. The bride-to-be won a pair of nipple tassels at the end of the afternoon and was happy to model (and twirl!) them for us. And the performers were great. For the second part of the afternoon Sophia St Villier was to perform her big burlesque number, then pose. I’d cued some typically sleazy Las Vegas Grind-type titty shakers to play while Sophia posed, but promptly re-considered when I saw her startling outfit: jet black sequinned nipple tassels and thong, black feathered headdress and – the pièce de résistance -- a sensational, kinky black lace mask across her eyes. The contrast of the black lingerie against her pale complexion and Rita Hayworth-red hair was stunning. As Dusty Limits suggested, “She looks very True Blood!” Imagine a 1950s burlesque pin-up / vampire priestess hybrid. So instead I played some macabre and mondo mood-y stuff, like Freddie & The Hitchiker’s unearthly “Sinners” (with its eerie screaming theremin) and spine-tingling instrumentals (“Black Tarantula” by Jody Reynolds, "The Rat" by The Ventures). The cluster of male-female duets towards the end (literally climaxing with the Bardot-Gainsbourg version of "Je t'aime ...") was for while Sophia and Henry modelled together. I also cranked up the raunch factor (and lowered the tone) by playing “Ice Man” by Filthy McNasty and “The Pussy Cat Song” by Connie Vannett (the latter personally requested by Dusty) – the two filthiest single entendre novelty songs I own.

In an ideal world, when I look out from the DJ booth, this is what I'd see ...



How life-affirming is that? "Jaan Pehechan Ho" by Mohammed Rafi: 1965 Bollywood heaven. The surf guitar sound on that slays me. And doesn't the masked singer with the black pompadour and sleazy little moustache look a bit like an Indian version of El Vez?

Sano - The Revels
That Makes It - Jayne Mansfield
Wait a Minute, Baby - Esquerita
Rock-a-Hula Baby - Elvis Presley
Honolulu Rock and Roll - Eartha Kitt
Tic, Tic, Tic (The Lost Watch) - Robert Mitchum
Go Calypso - Mamie van Doren
Rum & Coca-Cola - Wanda Jackson
Bombie - Johnny Sharp & The Yellow Jackets
Here Comes the Bug - The Rumblers
Elle est Terrible - Johnny Halliday
Night Walk - The Swingers
Cherry Wine - Little Esther
Club Delight - Jack Jolly
Train to Nowhere - The Champs
When Did You Leave Heaven? Jimmy Scott
I'm a Fool to Want You - Billie Holiday
Tony's Got Hot Nuts - Faye Richmonde
Take it Off - The Genteels
Hot Dog! That Made Him Mad - Betty Hutton
Ice Man - Filthy McNasty
The Gentleman is a Dope - Diana Dors
The Stalk - The Giants
Ain't That Lovin' You, Baby - The Earls of Suave
Your Line Was Busy - Big Bob
Trouble - Jackie De Shannon
Chicken Grabber - The Nite Hawks
Cry-Baby - The Honey Sisters
I Was Born to Cry - Johnny Thunders
Love Letters - Ike and Tina Turner
Don't Be Cruel - Bill Black Combo
Jaan Pehechaan Ho - Mohammed Rafi
Sinners - Freddie & The Hitchikers
Black Tarantula - Jody Reynolds
Shadow Woman - Julie London
The Rat - The Ventures
Crawlin' - The Untouchables
Assez - Marlene Dietrich
Charge It - The Playboys
You're the Boss - Elvis Presley and Ann-Marget
Pussycat Song - Connie Vannett
Je t'aime...moi non plus - Serge Gainsbourg and Brigitte Bardot
Can Your Pussy Do the Dog? The Cramps
Beaver Shot - The Periscopes
I Stubbed My Toe - Bryan "Legs" Walker
The Girl Can't Help It - Little Richard

Saturday 6 August 2011 Dr Sketchy Set List at The Old Queen’s Head

/ Peru's volcanic Yma Sumac -- the high priestess of Latin Exotica /

After some turbulent recent Dr Sketchy’s at The Royal Vauxhall where I was overwhelmed with technical glitches (fuses blowing, malfunctioning CDs), was reassuring to have a laid-back Saturday afternoon Dr Sketchy at The Old Queen’s Head where everything just went smoothly. It also helped that the audience was buzzing and up for it, and ace stage manager-ess Trixi Tassels kept me topped up with beer all afternoon!

Making her debut as a Dr Sketchy emcee was the brilliant comedienne and performance artist Claire Benjamin (in character as “Freuda Kahlo” (sic), complete with hirsute mono-brow, hint of a moustache and broad comedy “Spanglish” accent). At one point I had to introduce Freuda onto the stage – the first time I’ve ever spoken into the microphone at a Dr Sketchy. Amazing how nervous it made me! I had to write down word for word my introduction, and then mentally rehearse it in my head! (Bear in mind all I was saying was something along the lines of, “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage your hostess ...”). So now I’m also technically a performer / actor. It’s gone straight to my head and I’m well on my way to becoming a temperamental artiste. Next time I’ll demand to know what my “motivation” is.

The model / performer for the day was Tempest Rose, who exuded such impeccable old-school glamour and poise I toned down the usual raunch and aimed for something a bit more elegant music-wise while she posed. Inspired by Claire’s Freuda Kahlo persona, I also went heavy on the Latin exotica like mambo and bossa nova (For her big finale, Freuda donned some plastic fruit on her head and sang Carmen Miranda’s "I, Yi, Yi, Yi, Yi (I Like You Very Much)").


Miss Irene - Ginny Kennedy
Women are the Root of All Evil - Paul Williams
Jungle Drums - Earl Bostick
No Good Lover - Mickey and Sylvia
The Flirt - Shirley and Lee
Take Half - Hal Singer
Crazy, Crazy Feeling - Esquerita
Red Hot - Billy Lee Riley
Astrosonic - Jimmie Haskell and Orchestra
I Ain't in the Mood - Helen Humes
Yogi - The Bill Black Combo
Hanky Panky - Rita Chao & The Quests
Caravan - The Dell Trio
Drive-In - The Jaguars
The Beast - Milt Buckner
Give Me Love - Lena Horne
Anasthasia - Bill Smith Combo
Mack the Knife - Eartha Kitt
Begin the Beguine - Ann-Margret
Womp Womp - Freddie & The Heartaches
You're My Thrill - Chet Baker
Blues in the Night - Julie London
I Put a Spell on You - Nina Simone
Taki Ruro - Yma Sumac
Ou-es tu, ma joie? Caterina Valente
Peter Gunn Mambo - Jack Costanzo
Laisse-moi tranquille - Serge Gainsbourg
Mambo Baby - Ruth Brown
Rum & Coca Cola - Wanda Jackson
She Wants to Mambo - Johnny Thunders and Patti Paladin
Chihuahua - Mina
Chihuahua - Luis Oliveira and His Bandodalua Boys
I've Been in Love Before - Marlene Dietrich
Some Small Chance - Serge Gainsbourg (Strip-tease soundtrack)
I Travel Alone - Hildegard Knef
Mondo Moodo - The Earls of Suave
Strip-tease - Juliette Greco
Misirlou - Laurindo Almeida
Pop Slop - Bela Sanders Und Sein Orchester
Oh Honey - Gloria Wood
Take Half - Hal Singer (yes, it appears I played this twice)
Is You Is or Is You Ain't My Baby - Ann Richards
Imagination - Diana Dors
Blues in My Heart - John Buzon Trio
Don't You Feel My Leg - Blue Lu Barker
One Night of Sin - Elvis Presley
Chattanooga Choo Choo - Denise Darcel
All of Me - Mae West
You Can't Stop Her - Bobby Marchan
The Girl Can't Help It - Little Richard
Salamander - Mamie van Doren
Jim Dandy - LaVerne Baker
That's a Pretty Good Love - Big Maybelle
Groovy - The Groovers
Suey - Jayne Mansfield
Beat Party - Ritchie and The Squires
Moi je joue - Brigitte Bardot



 An ethereal Marlene Dietrich mesmerises a young John Wayne by huskily warbling "I've Been in Love Before" in the film Seven Sinners (1940)

3 August 2011 Cockabilly DJ Set List

/ Who says smoking isn't sexy? The dreamy pairing of James Dean and Sal Mineo in Nicholas Ray's Rebel without a Cause (1955). Photo shamelessly stolen from the ever-wondrous A Queens' queen blog /

It’s always a blast to guest DJ at Cockabilly (London’s only queer rockabilly night!) at the reliably louche George and Dragon in Shoreditch. (The other guest DJ was the awe-inspiring Beyondadoubt, Beth Ditto’s tour DJ).

It was an incredibly hot night, so I was drenched in sweat (my hair was soaking wet!) and pounding back lager for my entire hour-long set. I managed to incorporate frantic hillbilly, sleazy instrumentals, female-fronted rockabilly (Wanda Jackson, Sparkle Moore, Janis Martin, Shirley Cadell), punk (X, The Sex Pistols) and even a tribute to the late Amy Winehouse (Wanda Jackson’s great cover of “You Know I’m No Good”). My only regret is I didn’t crank the volume up even LOUDER: when Beyondabout came on right after me, she blasted everyone’s faces off with her soul 45’s! Ah, well – lesson learned. It was a great night and well worth the following day’s agonising hangover. (That final pint at The Joiners Arms with Marc and the two Alexes afterwards might have been ill-advised -- fun, though)


Willie Joe - The Mystery Trio
Deuces Wild - Link Wray
Poor Little Critter on the Road - The Knitters
Chicken Walk - Hasil Adkins
Big Bounce - Shirley Cadell
Bang Bang - Janis Martin
Lonesome Me - Johnny Cash
Tongue-Tied Jill - Charlie Feathers
Dancing with Tears in My Eyes - X
Tunnel of Love - Wanda Jackson
Whistle Bait - The Collins Kids
Rock Around the Clock - The Sex Pistols
Esquerita and The Voola - Esquerita
Dragon Walk - The Noblemen
Boss - The Rumblers
Scorpion - The Carnations
Killer - Sparkle Moore (screaming version)
Stranger in My Own Hometown - The Earls of Suave
The Girl Can't Help It - Little Richard
De Castrow - Jaybee Wasden
Beat Generation - Mamie van Doren
Beat Party - Ritchie & The Squires
You Know I'm No Good - Wanda Jackson
Devil in Disguise - Elvis Presley
Bop Pills - Macy "Skip" Skipper

1950s cowboy demonstrates how to wash jeans. Not sure he gives them sufficient time to dry, though.

Naked Under Leather: Marianne Faithfull Reminisces About Girl on a Motorcycle

/ Naked Under Leather, Part 1: Marianne Faithfull in the 1968 film Girl on a Motorcycle (1968) /

It’s easy to forget Marianne Faithfull has been acting as long as she’s been singing. Obviously her musical career as rock’s quintessential tortured torch singer has dominated the popular imagination, but over the decades she’s had an erratic but interesting sideline as an actress in films, stage and television. She’s worked with art cinema auteurs like Jean-Luc Godard (Made in the USA, 1966) and Kenneth Anger (Lucifer Rising, 1972), and on the other extreme schlock-meister Michael Winner: Marianne Faithfull was the first person to say the word “fuck” in a mainstream studio film (she screams, “Get out of here, you fucking bastard!” to Oliver Reed in the Winner’s 1967 I’ll Never Forget What’sisname). More classily, she’s performed in Chekhov’s Three Sisters onstage (1967) and portrayed Ophelia both onstage and onscreen (1969), and Marie Antoinette’s mother, the Empress of Austria, in Sofia Coppola’s film Marie Antoinette (2006). Faithfull has a new film (Belle du Seigneur) due out in 2012.

Perhaps suitably for someone with such a wild child / bad girl /fallen angel image, Faithfull’s filmography seems conceptually bookended by two notorious sexually explicit films maudits: the kitsch soft core sexploitation flick Girl on a Motorcycle (1968) and the strange, low-budget indie black sex comedy Irina Palm (2007) in which she plays a respectable suburban grandmother turned Soho sex worker. In most of her film work, Faithfull appears in supporting roles – decades apart, these both represent her two cracks as leading lady.

In the past Faithfull has spoken dismissively about the campy Girl on a Motorcycle (alternate titles: Naked Under Leather in the US and La Motocyclette in France) as an embarrassing disappointment and source of regret. Certainly in her lacerating 1994 autobiography Faithfull, she mentions it only in passing. “I made a couple of terrible films that year” is pretty much all she has to say about both I’ll Never Forget Whatshisname and Girl on a Motorcycle, while noting her gorgeous leading man on the latter (32-year old French heartthrob Alain Delon) made an arrogant, desultory (and unsuccessful) pass at her. (She was still with Mick Jagger at the time).



/ The trailer for Girl on a Motorcycle (1968) /

Happily, Faithfull’s attitude has since mellowed considerably and she’s now able to look back at Girl on a Motorcycle with affection. When I interviewed her in January 2011 for Nude magazine about her latest CD Horses and High Heels, I seized the opportunity to ask her about it. (This didn’t make the final cut of the article). She told me:

“I had no idea it was going to become such a cult movie, that people would still like it so many years after. I didn’t really like it at the time; I thought it was a bit stupid! But I loved (director) Jack Cardiff and I was very grateful to Jack Cardiff for making me look so beautiful. He really did. I mean, the lighting – the whole thing is just gorgeous. So I’m very grateful for that, that one day I’m able to look back at Girl on a Motorbike (sic) and say, Wow! That wasn’t too bad. And also, I think one of the most lovely things about Girl on a Motorbike is, do you know where it’s most popular? In India! I saw it myself, the first time I saw it was in Delhi, in Hindi. And it was absolutely great, but what was really great was how much the Indian audience loved it. And even now on the net there are articles – long, evaluating articles about this film. I’m delighted!”

It’s been years since I’ve seen Girl on a Motorcycle, but for such a trashy and misjudged film it made an indelible impression on me. The first time I ever saw it was circa 1992 when I first moved to London, onscreen at the much-missed, wonderfully dilapidated and grungy art house cinema The Scala, in Kings Cross when it was still a really seedy and dangerous neighbourhood. It was on a typically inspired Scala double bill, paired with Roger Corman’s The Wild Angels (1966), another biker-themed exploitation film of the same vintage starring Peter Fonda and Nancy Sinatra.

The risible dialogue in Motorcycle is truly dreadful and makes it one of those so-bad-it’s good, unintentionally funny and perversely enjoyable films. I definitely remember a sequence where Faithfull (as frustrated young bride Rebecca, abandoning her callow husband to be with her intellectual French lover Daniel, played by Delon) zooms past a graveyard on her glistening black Harley-Davidson and rhetorically ponders in the voiceover, “Why don’t the dead rebel?” Her worldview, she exclaims, is “Rebellion is the only thing that keeps you alive!”

Poor Faithfull actually has to do a lot of ersatz hippie / revolutionary 1960s philosophising in the interminable voiceover, over seemingly endless footage of her astride her bike zipping across lush European countryside. (The footage of her “driving” is clearly fake – it’s been pointed out Faithfull never turns the motorcycle’s handlebars). Zipping herself into her sensational ultra-fetish-y fleece-lined, skin-tight black leather cat suit, she muses, “It’s like skin. I’m like an animal.” Later, when Rebecca and Daniel are finally reunited, she lies across his lap and instructs him, “Peel me ...” As he begins to unzip her cat suit, a stony-faced Delon purrs in his thick French accent, “Your body is like a beautiful violin in a velvet case.” Later, lovingly contemplating Faithfull’s bare feet, he solemnly intones, “Your toes are like little tombstones ...” (I suspect Delon – who would go on to work with all the major European art cinema directors in his distinguished career – has wiped Girl on a Motorcycle from both his résumé and his memory).

To be fair, though, Motorcycle has its fluffy redemptive charms. For better or for worse, it’s a real period piece: the clothes, music, decor and whole ethos are pure 1960s pop art -- the film is catnip for aficionado of kitsch. The psychedelic sex scenes remain eye-popping. Jack Cardiff is far better known (and skilled) as a cinematographer than a director and while the film’s acting is stilted and the pace fatally sluggish, he ensures the film looks spectacular – especially the adoring close-ups scrutinising Faithfull’s exquisite face. Perhaps the best you can say about Girl on a Motorcycle finally is it documents the 21-year old Faithfull at the height of her 1960s beauty: throughout she suggests an English rose version of Brigitte Bardot. (Delon looks pretty devastating, too). The image of Faithfull in her sleek, clinging cat suit, with her mane of tousled blonde hair remains – alongside Bardot singing "Harley-Davidson" in her 1968 TV special in mini skirt and thigh boots, Jane Fonda as Barbarella and the album covers of the go-go booted Nancy Sinatra – one of the definitive archetypes of the 1960s sex kitten.

/ Naked Under Leather, Part 2: Faithfull photographed in Paris by Helmut Newton circa 1978-1979, around the time of her post-punk comeback album Broken English /

/ Naked Under Leather, Part 3: Faithfull photographed by Helmut Newton again, in 1999 /

/ Naked Under Leather, Part 4: The 64-year old Faithfull in 2011. Promotional shot for her new CD Horses and High Heels /

13 July 2011 Dr Sketchy DJ Set List

/ Fun couple: Elvis Presley and flame-haired burlesque icon, Tempest Storm in the 1950s. (According to her, they were lovers until Colonel Parker broke it up). Tempest is 83 now and still performs occasionally. She made an appearance at the Viva Las Vegas rockabilly weekender this year. I snatched a photo of her at the car show. See it here /

Wow. Just ... wow. This night at The Royal Vauxhall Tavern was the nadir of my DJ’ing career to date – I was completely overwhelmed by technical glitches.

It started well enough. Performance artist Claire Benjamin (in the persona of her character Obsessia Compulsia D’Sorda) did a great, strange, edgy piece. The burlesque performer for the evening was emergent Australian starlet Ava Iscariot, who’s performed at Dr Sketchy before. The song for her number was by Marilyn Manson. I tested her CD by playing a snatch of it early on, and it worked just fine. You’d think I would have learned from the debacle with Chocolat's CD the last time I DJ'd at The Royal Vauxhall Tavern!


Claire Benjamin in character as Obsessia Compulsia D’Sorda, filmed in performance at The Royal Vauxhall Tavern in 2009

Anyway, Ava’s track was ready and I pressed play when it was her cue. I stepped away from the decks to watch her perform. It was all going smoothly. Her track was 4-minutes long: about two minutes and 11 seconds into it, the CD abruptly stopped playing! Needless to say, as soon as anything audio-related goes wrong, every head in the venue swivels to stare at me! Poor Ava stopped dead in her tracks: she was standing with her back to the audience, about to unlace her corset and was looking at me wondering what the hell was happening. I was frantically jabbing “Play” and nothing was happening. The ever-unflappable emcee Dusty Limits swung into action and quickly brought Claire Benjamin back onto the stage to pose while I tried to work out what the hell was wrong with Ava’s CD. I tried to stick on another song to at least provide music while Clare was posing (the sound of silence and the audience murmuring was freaking me out! The multi-talented Claire played the musical saw, Dietrich-style, while she posed, by the way), but this time I couldn’t get anything to come out of the other CD deck either – and when I pressed the “Open” button, the CD drawer wouldn’t open!

By now sweat beads were popping out of my head and I was getting frenzied. The Royal Vauxhall Tavern manager came over: we established that Ava’s CD was simply faulty (I played it again through my headphones and it consistently stopped at the same point), and that the reason I couldn’t coax any music out of the decks or even open the CD drawers was because a fuse had blown! What are the odds of both these things happening at once? Could only happen to me! (And by the way: the night was being filmed, and apparently a Time Out journalist was in attendance).

Once the blown fuse was fixed, I was able to get back on track, although the rest of the night was a jittery blur. (My nerves were shot. I self-medicated with beer; had one mutha of a hangover the next day at work). Mercifully a friend of Ava’s had the song she needed on his iPod. We hooked up his iPod to the decks so Ava was able to come back out at the end of the night and do her (excellent) routine properly. Phew!

Now let’s never speak of this night again...

Follow the Leader - Wiley Terry
Bacon Fat - Andre Williams
Baby, I'm Doin' It - Annisteen Allen
Mambo Baby - Ruth Brown
She Wants to Mambo - Johnny Thunders and Patti Paladin
Mambo Miam Miam - Serge Gainsbourg
Unchain My Heart - Florence Joelle
I Was Born to Cry - Dion
Fever - The Delmonas
My Baby Does the Hanky Panky - Rita Chao & The Quests
Here Comes the Bug - The Rumblers
One More Beer - The Earls of Suave
Revelion - The Revels
Leave Married Women Alone - Jimmy Cavallo
Little Girl - John and Jackie
It - The Regal-Aires
Save It - Mel Robbins
Bikini with No Top on the Top - Mamie van Doren and June Wilkinson
The Flirt - Shirley and Lee
Maybe Baby - Esquerita
The Sneak - Jimmy Oliver
Heartbreakin' Special - Duke Larson
Jungle Walk - The Dyna-Sores
Bop Pills - Macy "Skip" Skipper
Shombalor - Sheriff and The Revels
Cheesecake - The Nite Sounds
Drive-In - The Jaguars
C'est si Bon - April Stevens
Some Small Chance - Serge Gainsbourg (Strip-tease soundtrack)
Kiss Me - Dolores Gray
Shangri-La - Spike Jones New Band
Beat Party - Ritchie & The Squires
Java Partout - Juliette Greco
Caravan - John Buzon Trio
Yogi - Bill Black Combo
Gimme a Pigfoot (And a Bottle of Beer) - Nina Simone
Work with It - Que Martin
Dragon Walk - The Noblemen
Snow Surfin' Matador - Jan Davis
8 Ball - The Hustlers
Love for Sale - Eartha Kitt
The Lonely Hours - Sarah Vaughan
Crawlin' - The Untouchables
Somewhere Over the Rainbow - Gene Vincent
Bossa Nova Baby - Elvis Presley
Jim Dandy - Ann-Margret
Beat Girl - John Barry (Beat Girl soundtrack)
Ne Me Laisse Pas L'Aimer - Brigitte Bardot
Tall Cool One - The Wailers
Womp Womp - Freddie & The Heartaches
Your Love is Mine - Ike and Tina Turner
The Bee - The Sentinels
The Coo - Wayne Cochran
I Walk like Jayne Mansfield - The 5,6,7,8s


Shombalor by Sheriff & The Revels

It Was A Pleasure Then: Remembering Nico

I couldn’t get it together to blog this in time, but I still felt it was worth noting that yesterday (18 July 2011) marked the 22nd anniversary of the death of my all-time favourite singer, the ever-inscrutable Nico. (Had she lived, she’d be 73 now). Not that I ever need an excuse to pay tribute to the late, great Nico: rock’s ultimate diva of despair with the blood-freezing vampire priestess voice, the heroin-ravaged former chanteuse of the Velvet Underground, and the Marlene Dietrich of punk.

I feel really privileged that over the years I’ve managed to meet most of my idols, but I’ll always be gutted I never got the chance to meet Nico. Whenever I encounter people who knew her, I always pump them for details and inevitably they always have interesting stories about her. She was a fascinating and completely unconventional woman. Yes, her life was dominated by heroin addiction but she reminds me of that line from the Morrissey song “Piccadilly Palare” where he sings “We threw all life’s instructions away.” For better or for worse, if anyone can claim to have done just that, it was Nico. She lived a decadent, rootless, genuinely bohemian life in the tradition of 19th century poets like Rimbaud – and paid the consequences. And no matter how screwed up her life, she could still pull herself together and (like Chet Baker, Billie Holiday and Edith Piaf) make powerful music.

/ I'll Be Your Mirror /

When I interviewed that other chain-smoking baritone babe-voiced heroin ravaged chanteuse Marianne Faithfull in January 2011 I seized the opportunity to ask her about Nico (the two women have so many parallels in their lives. Faithfull clearly identifies with Nico, and even wrote a song about her in 2002). She told me:

“Well, I’m so lucky in my life and I know it, that my life worked out so well. And I felt a lot of compassion for Nico, that she had such a hard time. Obviously a lot of that was to do with drugs, too. If you take a difficult life anyway and then add that, it’ll get much worse. I just felt it was very tragic story and I felt a lot of love for Nico. I think she tried really hard. She did make a couple of great records – I love The Marble Index (1969). I value her a lot, and I don’t think she was really valued in her lifetime.”

(Read my full interview with Marianne Faithfull on the Nude website here)

John Waters reflects on his single encounter with Nico in my blog here.

/ Nico with Andy Warhol /

/ Nico accompanying herself on harmonium /

The best way to remember Nico is simply to listen to her suicidally bleak but achingly beautiful music. So here are some clips of the angel-of-death vocal stylings of Nico that I think represent her creative peak: call them her "Gravest Hits" if you like.



/ "Janitor of Lunacy", circa early 1970s /



/ Nico interviewed on French TV in 1972 (unfortunately, no English subtitles). Stunning performances of "Janitor of Lunacy" and "You Forget to Answer" /



/ Performing "Gengis Khan" on French TV (1978) /

If you can, track down the documentary Nico Icon (1995) by Susanne Ofteringer or the sadly long out of print 1993 book Nico: The Life and Lies of an Icon by Richard Witts, the definitive Nico biography to date.