Tuesday

To Be Frank

The Seventh of August Two Thousand and Eleven. Sunday. 

A couple of things came together in the last couple of days that made me think about somebody else no longer with us. I was in the shower this morning when the strains of Guess Who’s Been on Match of the Day came on the shuffle. This, along with finding among my vinyl LPs as I tidied up Cam’s room/the-room-with-all-the-unpacked-boxes-in-my-flat the superb double album 5:9:88 (among others)



  led me to recall with affection and admiration Mr Frank Sidebottom, the Bard of Timperley. With his giant papier maché head and nasal voice he was a cartoon character come to life.
 

Frank was more than just a novelty act. Brilliantly funny as his mangled cover versions of Anarchy in the UK and I Should Be So Lucky were (each inevitably ending with a variation on the phrase ‘You know it is, it really is. Thank you.’) there was a sharp musical sensibility behind all the nonsense that had been honed by Frank creator Chris Sievey’s time around the Manchester music scene – notably with The Freshies (anybody remember I’m in Love With a Girl from a Certain Manchester Megastore Checkout Desk?). One of Frank’s own songs, Airplay (currently available compilation CD E, F, G & H (itself a follow up to compilation A, B, C & D – both albums obviously forming my Fifth Music Recommendation) is a very witty and effective (as well as catchy) dissection of a formula pop song. There was a lot of understated genius in Frank’s work. 

No there wasn’t. He was bobbins. 

Shut up, Little Vin, no he wasn’t. Sorry, I made the mistake of leaving my Blogging Puppet, Little Vin, near the keyboard while I made a cuppa. 

Oo, it wasn’t a cuppa. You went and made a crisp butty even though you’ve only had your tea five minutes ago.

No I didn't, Little Vin! Anyway, you're not supposed to be typing on here!

Oh, why not?

Because, er, your hands are made of cardboard and I do all your bits.

Oh blimey!

Frank was often assisted on his records and shows by Little Frank and his puppet pals Little Denise (who had her head stolen, never to be replaced) and Little Buzz Aldrin the American space puppet. It was, as Frank proudly boasted, a ventriloquist act where nobody's lips moved. Other members of the puppet entourage included Breville Toaster Frank ('Sandwiches!') and Amoeba Frank, the one-celled ventriloquist puppet. Little Frank would constantly undermine his big counterpart and often a  huge argument would ensue ('You stupid, stupid puppet!). In live performances, sympathy would invariably go toward Little Frank at which point Big Frank would point out that he was the one doing his voice.



A good old google will tell you everything you need to know about Frank's World (from Radio Timperley on Piccadilly Radio to his Proper Telly Show in Black and White (with repeats in colour) on Manchester cable tv station Channel M). Caroline Aherne's Mrs Merton, Chris Evans, Mark Radcliffe and writer Jon Ronson were all associates of Frank at one time or another. Here's an article from 2006 by Ronson who was a member of the Oh Blimey Big Band. I saw them perform at the Ritz in Manchester and I'm not kidding, they rocked. Hit the North took the roof of the place.

Here's his comic strip in Oink.

My best memory of Frank is a personal one. Way back when, I was going out with my then girlfriend for a night at the (now demolished) Oakwood pub in Salford. There's been a power cut and so no-one was allowed to go in. To kill some time we went to the phone box around the corner. I had remembered that on Frank's Timperley EP he had done his own version of Pennsylvania 6-5000 entitled Timperley 969 1909 at the end of which Little Frank had berated him for giving out his phone number to the public.


'Nobody'll bother, they know it's showbiz,' assured Frank.

So I put me 10p in (that's how long ago it was!) and rang the number, thinking maybe there'd be an answerphone or the like at best.


'Hello!' came the nasal greeting on the other end of the line.


'Oh, hello, Frank,' I said. 'I didn't expect you to answer. I thought it was just a joke.'


'Oh no, boss,' Frank replied. 'It's serious. If me mum ever found out I was in showbiz she'd give me what-for.'


According to Yell.com that number is now for a business called Rhino Frames. I wonder if they still get pestered by Frank fans. I'm not going to ring to find out.


I thanked Frank and wished him well, slightly shell-shocked that I'd got to speak to the man himself. I wish I'd been as bold more recently. A few years ago Frank played Scarborough and I didn't bother going, not wanting to go on my own. I later found out a couple of friends from work had gone (one of them winning Little Denise's body in the raffle!) on spec and had been bemused by the whole affair. I'm really going to have to work on that shyness.

Right that's the end of programmes for tonight. I'll hand over to the testcard.


There will be more soonliest, actually.


You know there will. There really will.


Thank you.

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