I'm currently reading "The Smiths – Songs That Changed Your Life" by Simon Goddard. It's a real anorak affair, providing all the minutiae details and anecdotes behind every recording by the band. Which suits me fine.

However, I could well do without the author's apparent insistence on imposing his own descriptions of the records upon the reader. Particularly when they're like this, from the section on "Hand In Glove":

"…[Morrissey's] inimitable voice trembling upon each syllable with the force of a dormant human volcano suddenly erupting in a white-hot supernova of embryonic passion."

That's surely a contender for some kind of award, akin to those Bad Sex awards. Purplest Prose Awards? Dancing Badly About Architecture Awards?

Bad writing aside, it's also entirely redundant, as the book's target market is, by definition, Smiths obsessives. All of whom I can imagine reading the book, then rising as one and addressing Mr Goddard:

"You don't have to TELL us what the songs sound like. We KNOW what the songs sound like. We are SMITHS FANS. DO YOU SEE?"

In Iran, you can be <a href="http://www.reuters.com/newsArticle.jhtml?type=oddlyEnoughNews&storyID=1928372">arrested for cutting girls' hair short</a>.

Here's the reasoning behind my recent DJ set at Stay Beautiful.

1) Xanadu – Olivia Newton-John & ELO

I approached the compiling of my DJ set as if it were to be a strictly unique event. So I decided to make my selection a kind of autobiography, with each song taking me back to memorable points in my life, with the emphasis on my Orlando life. Just like Marcel Proust. If he was a DJ. For the weeks leading up to the night in question, I changed most of my intended song choices over and over again. However, this one was planned as my opening song regardless. I associate it with living in a bedsit with a brown carpet, above a carpenter's shop in Bristol's Montpelier Road circa 1993, when I was first thinking of starting a band called Orlando. I'd purchased a copy of Olivia's Greatest Hits from a charity shop after seeing the 1980 rollerdisco cult classic "Xanadu" on TV for the first time ("Let's build the ultimate nightclub right here! And call it Stay B-I mean, Xanadu!"). It's a song that I simply have never grown tired of hearing. I must have played it hundreds of times while living in Bristol and thinking of asking this boy I'd met at Sarah Records gigs called Tim to sing in my band. I still play it at least once a day now. It's brimming with unabashed pop joy and never fails to cheer me up. I'm quite partial to ELO's Phil-Spector-If-He-Was-British-And-Bearded-And-Called-Jeff hits in general, but this has the added appeal of Olivia Newton-John at her dizzying, helium-angel, beard-cancelling best, plus Krautrock synths, AND Abba-like piano hooks. It even has the nerve to throw in the bassline off The Four Tops "I Can't Help Myself", and the drum break off The Ronettes' "Be My Baby" at one point. The choice was even more apt, given that getting to Stay Beautiful that night was akin to searching for a lost Xanadu in itself, what with all the unpleasant weather and Kafka-esque bus diversions.

2) Could It Be Magic – Take That

Remember Robbie Williams this way. He's on lead vocals for this one. Tim and I were obsessed with Take That when they were going. We even spent a February afternoon in 1995 standing outside Alexandra Palace in the snow, freezing to death, trying to see into the Brit Awards. The trouble with Boyzone and all the subsequent UK boybands is that they forget Take That actually had an iota of personality, danced about and upped the homoerotic ante. With Westlife and their ilk you just get a bunch of granny-pleasing clones sitting on stools.

3) Handsome Devil – The Smiths

The only song I played due to a few people's email requests, asking for something by Lord Moz. After much hesitation over which of the many, many possible Smiths and Moz solo tunes to plump for, I once again took the Proust angle and went for this, which I associate with indie discos in Ipswich, having just left home in 1990. I moved into a £26 a week bedsit off the ring road, sharing the kitchen and living room with two bearded men in their 30s, one a quiet divorcee who'd lost the house to his wife, the other a fat man who would come home drunk and rip the front door off its hinges if he forgot his key. The only music I had was literally two cassettes. And they were both The Smiths. Taped off vinyl from Ipswich Library. Monday night at Hollywoods there was Indie Night, and "Handsome Devil" was a regular floor-filler. Despite the fact that Mr M's vocals are far too low in the mix. "There's more to life than books you know, but not much more". Still holds true. More than ever now, as I'm far more interested in dead authors than the current pop scene. Still, that Girls Aloud song (which Tim played) is quite pleasant. He said grudgingly.

4) Digital Love – Daft Punk

Dickon plays something relatively new shock! Even though it's based on a sample from a hoary old Supertramp record or something like that. And, yes, it does sound like The Buggles. But I was slain by its beauty when I first heard it round Tim Baxendale's last year. And the cute, "Battle Of The Planets"-style video helped. As you know, I've always felt more like a character in a Japanese animation than a real person. It was also the song I most enjoyed at the 2001 Stay Beautiful Christmas Party. When they played it I was the happiest I'd been all through that miserable season, second only to Channel 5 showing "O Lucky Man!" at 3am on Christmas Eve when I couldn't sleep. So there's the Proustian bit. Does anyone know if the single version is any different? I only have the album version.

5) Doctor's Orders – Carol Douglas

For me, this is the most danceable 70s disco record ever. And this is the one that got the complaints. I followed Tim playing Nick Cave's "Deanna" with it, and some of the punters were rather displeased with me, as if Nick Cave is The Anti-Disco. What rot. I may not know much about Nick Cave, but I do know he is a man who performs lectures about Kylie's "I Should Be So Lucky", so he's hardly the rockist incarnate. Quite apt that it was deemed the most offensive record of my set, seeing that it accompanies the opening credits song of "The Last Days Of Disco", a film with includes that famous footage of a crate of disco records being blown up on a US football pitch, at the height of the "DISCO SUCKS" movement over there. How interesting that it wasn't punk rock that really offended conservative Americans, it was disco. Proustian bit: another thing that brought Tim and I together was a shared love of the films of Whit Stillman. Mr Stillman doesn't seem to have done much since "The Last Days…" though, the film which brought "Doctor's Orders" to my attention.

6) He's Frank (Slight Return) – The Monochrome Set

"Play some rock", they said, so I put this one on. Like "Doctor's Orders", I like to think that even if you don't recognise the song, it's danceable enough to win you over. This is a 1979 UK post-punk classic that fits nicely alongside all those trendy new US-style garage bands called The Somethings that The Kids are into at the moment. Though typically, Bid's lyrics are extremely English in that arch and Wildean fop way (years before The Divine Comedy, of course): "He's got precious youth / But forsaken, forsooth / And now the shine grows dim / Change tradition for whim / Who'll save him from being a man / Not me". The Monochrome Set were also favourites with the young Morrissey, and it's not difficult to see why. The singer Bid was barely out of school when he wrote this. Currently he makes wonderful lit-pop albums under the name of Scarlet's Well, using vocalists from the North London Collegiate For Girls. The art teacher there is also the Monochrome Set's guitarist. I wonder if any of the students were at Stay Beautiful? It must be odd going to a club where they play punk rock records made by your art teacher. Mind you, Bid went to school with Adam Ant. Imagine that. Proustian bit: when Fosca played on a boat in Paris last year, the gig was part of a club night where they played this song, and I was amazed how good it sounded on the dancefloor.

7) Give Him A Great Big Kiss – The Shangri-Las

I followed Tim playing the Girls Aloud song with this. Girl groups now and then, do you see? Compare and contrast. Oh all right, don't, then. This song is just faultless and irresistible. If you don't like it, then frankly you are a joyless husk of no woman born. No offence. No, actually, offence. I've heard "The Leader Of The Pack" too many times, but can never get tired of this one. Proustian bit: shortly after I left Orlando, I sat at home for weeks wondering what to do with my life, watching videos of Doctor Who with the sound turned off and The Shangri-Las playing on the stereo in Repeat Mode. It improved the Sylvester McCoy ones no end.

8) Better The Devil You Know – Kylie Minogue

Proustian bit: Another thing that brought Tim and I together, and seemed to separate us from the rest of our so-called peers, was our serious love of Stock Aitken Waterman records. We would spend many a night at G.A.Y. in Charing Cross Road dancing our legs down to the ground to those records. I could have played "The Harder I Try" by Brother Beyond, but I guessed people at Stay Beautiful might tar and feather me just that little bit less if I went with this one. I guessed right, and walked home with my legs intact. It's got a real clarion-call intro, too. So there you go. My advice to DJs. If in doubt, slam on this record.

9) Beautiful Stranger – Madonna

Proust bit: my last proper job was working at Kenwood House up on Hampstead Heath. If I had to get a job, I figured, it might as well be somewhere where I was surrounded by beautiful paintings in a beautiful house within walking distance of my room. This Madonna song was constantly on the radio that summer, and whenever I would go for my lunchbreak by the outhouse courtyard, the workmen there would be sawing away at planks of wood with this playing on their portable tranny. It's that old Jerome K Jerome quote: I love work, I could watch it all day long. He didn't stipulate that it's even better if the work in question is manual labour carried out by muscular extras from Spartacus with arms like pistons. But he should have done. Before I played this, Tim asked me if he should play Shakira or Pulp's "Mis-Shapes." I said Pulp. So he put on Shakira. My plan worked.

So, how did my first ever, and probably last ever DJ-ing spot go?

Well, I enjoyed myself. Through sheer optimism! The local bus routes to the Islington Bar were beset with road works and lengthy diversions. It took me well over an hour to get from Highgate to the middle of Caledonian Road. That's from one part of North London to the next. Ridiculous. I should have walked. The relentless, belting rain didn't help. Stay Beautiful was more sparsely attended than usual, even though it was their big Christmas Party night.

How much of this was due to the weather and public transport problems, how much due to the many other Christmas parties and events on in town (ones that are more easy to get to), and how much was due to people just HATING ME PERSONALLY, I don't know. The big Orlando reunion that Tim and I had been thinking about DAILY for WEEKS. Too bad. And some of those who did turn up complained about my choice of music. It was just like the old Orlando days: not enough people turned up, and we got complaints from the rockists. Rather apt, really.

In retrospect, maybe it wasn't such a good idea of mine playing lots of disco and camp pop to a clientele who'd come to hear glam-rock. But to thine ownself be true.

Still, the people that were there seemed to like it. Tim's Orlando bootleg was a real "follow that!" shock, and I'm just glad that my own choices didn't clear the floor too much. The Kylie song went down particularly well. And apparently people noticed me playing air-guitar to the Steve Vai-esque synth solo on Daft Punk's "Digital Love". The shame! I think I was imagining myself in that 80s film, "Crossroads", starring top boyish-girl-boy pin-up Ralph "Karate Kid" Macchio.

I got an immense kick out of playing Olivia, Moz, Take That and the Monochrome Set. Maybe I should start my own rollerdisco.

Here's what we played:

Tim: Just For A Second – Orlando vs Eminem (bootleg)
Dickon: Xanadu – Olivia Newton-John & ELO
Tim: Magnatron – Kenickie
Dickon: Could It Be Magic – Take That
Tim: UGLY – Daphne & Celeste
Dickon: Handsome Devil – The Smiths
Tim: Megacolon – Fischerspooner
Dickon: Digital Love – Daft Punk
Tim: Deanna – Nick Cave
Dickon: Doctor's Orders – Carol Douglas
Tim: Spiritwalker – The Cult
Dickon: He's Frank (Slight Return) – Monochrome Set
Tim: Sound Of The Underground – Girls Aloud
Dickon: Give Him A Great Big Kiss – Shangri-Las
Tim: Don't Mug Yourself – The Streets
Dickon: Better The Devil You Know – Kylie Minogue
Tim: Whatever, Whenever – Shakira
Dickon: Beautiful Stranger – Madonna

Many thanks to those who came along and danced.

My current obsession with "Xanadu" and Olivia Newton-John reaches fever pitch.

Click on the links then use your Back button to return here:

<a href="http://www.onlyolivia.com/pix/80s/81_physical_98.jpg">How Dickon Would Dress If He Was A Girl</a>

<a href="http://www.onlyolivia.com/pix/80s/onj102.jpg">Olivia Does Barbarella</a>

<a href="http://www.onlyolivia.com/pix/70s/60_onj_68.jpg">Olivia Does Karen Carpenter</a>

<a href="http://www.onlyolivia.com/pix/80s/onj81009.jpg">Olivia Does Princess Di</a>

<a href="http://www.onlyolivia.com/pix/80s/onj81011.jpg">Need to stop dogs fighting? Call the Olivia Newton-John Dog-Fight-Stopping Service</a>

<a href="http://www.onlyolivia.com/pix/70s/72_cliff_66.jpg">I'm not sure whose outfit I want more for Christmas: Cliff's or Olivia's…</a>

<a href="http://www.onlyolivia.com/pix/80s/onj00052.jpg">Olivia Does The Melissa Etheridge Fanbase</a>

<a href="http://www.onlyolivia.com/pix/70s/onj71001.jpg">Olivia Does The 70s Doctor Who Assistant</a>

<a href="http://www.onlyolivia.com/pix/70s/onj70001.jpg">Olivia Does Britney Spears</a>

<a href="http://www.onlyolivia.com/pix/70s/78_50.jpg">Need to capture puppies? Call the Olivia Newton-John Puppy-Capturing Service</a>

And finally… <a href="http://www.fosca.com/xan49.jpg">Altogether now, "Xanaduuuu…"</a>

Tonight's the night. My much heralded (at least by me) debut, and quite possibly only attempt, as a DJ at <a href="http://www.staybeautifulclub.co.uk/news.htm">Club Stay Beautiful's Christmas Party</a> as part of a turntable face-off with my former pop partner in Orlando, Mr Tim Chipping. We are all DJs now, darling…

I will, naturally, be wearing make-up, although Stay Beautiful is, like Trash, one place where such activities are encouraged. After all, the club is run by Merry Old King Kohl, Mr Simon Price, who writes about his life as a fellow lifelong MIMU (Man In Make-Up) <a href="http://www.thermaland.fsnet.co.uk/Makeup.jpg">here</a>. Thanks to Mr Thermaland for the link.

Directions to the club are here:
http://www.staybeautifulclub.co.uk/datesmapinfo.htm

Mr C and I will be "on" from 10pm. Depending on how long I take to get ready to go out.

Just a reminder that me and the rest of Fosca are playing a Christmas gig tonight at the Metro in London. We have no idea when the next one will be, so if you're interested in seeing me on a stage, do come.

Details at <a href="http://www.fosca.com">www.fosca.com</a>

I am indebted to John at the <a href="http://www.indiespinzone.com/">Indiepop Spinzone</a> for sending me the attached unsolicited images, wherein he imagines my suggested future career appearing in adverts for crisps:

<img src="http://www.fosca.com/bag1.jpg"></img>

<lj-cut text="Two more here">
<img src="http://www.fosca.com/bag2.jpg"></img>
<br>
<img src="http://www.fosca.com/bag3.jpg"></img>

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After rehearsing, all four of Fosca get a black cab together. In London, one is constantly told of horror stories involving minicab drivers, and that proper black cabs are far safer. I'm not convinced that means the drivers are guaranteed to be any saner. It just means that there's a panel of glass separating you from them.

On this occasion, seeing that we're a band, our driver regales us with tales of seeing the Jam live in their heyday. This would be fair enough, but he then adds:

"I saw that Paul Weller recently on Oxford Street. I asked him for an autograph, but he wouldn't give me one.

"SO I BEAT HIM UP AND KNOCKED HIM TO THE GROUND."

It turns out he's also a Madness fan. I'm reminded that I myself am off to see Madness in concert just before Christmas. I'm a big fan of their songs (I even went to see their 'Our House' musical the other month), but I'm a bit scared of some of their fans. I shall keep the make-up to a minimum and try my best to not look like a Morrissey fan.

A night at The Verge. Riviera play their last gig of their residency at the venue, and invite me onstage to do dance movements. Alex S tells me afterwards that I resemble his idea of Terminator 3, and that I should take this as a compliment. I have to admit that if my parents were to tell me that I was, in fact, an android assassin from the future, my life would instantly make far more sense.

Christmas is coming, and the singles are getting sad. One friend is in a bit of a state, and tells me that they can't bear the fact that the person they are currently in love with has been telling them of their plans to spend the seasonal period with their own other half. That is, Someone Else.

I muse on the realisation that, as low as my life has reached, I am lucky enough never to have been once besmirched by the green-eyed monster. I have never experienced jealousy in my life. The times when I've seen people I've been attracted to in the arms of others have, if they've solicited any response at all, only made me feel, "Well, clearly, they are a better human being than I am."

I gaze into the abyss, and the abyss gazes right back and tells me, "Well, at least your hair is nice."

And so, this is ultimately what I only really know to be true. Born alone, dream alone, die alone. The rest is just staring in the mirror, ensuring that the hair is as perfect as possible. That the make-up is in place. That the suit is looking nice. I take comfort in dead authors and Touche Eclat. They will always remain true. What else is there?

Do you want to know about my fabulous dance technique? When I dance, I imagine that at the end of the song, I will be executed instantly. And so when you see me on the dancefloor in some club, I really am dancing for my life. I'm not there trying to impress anyone else, trying to catch the eye of some comely youth. I imagine myself alone in the universe, dancing to the end of Time, dancing to the end of my life. It keeps my steps from becoming sloppy.

What am I trying to tell you? Perhaps I should refer you to a dream I had the other night. I was throwing a "Come As Olivia Newton-John" party. Too many people turned up as Bad Sandy Olivia from "Grease", with the skintight black trousers. They were unhappy, because the walls were crawling with cute unhappy youths who always preferred Good Sandy Olivia in the film, the prim and proper one. And then there were people dressed as Xanadu Olivia, with all the different outfits she had in that film. Some were even on roller skates. But too many people said they'd never seen the movie. And as for the ones who came as Eurovision Olivia, the one in the cake-like dress that got beaten by Abba in 1974… well, they were even more unhappy.

But me? I had the hairdo of "Physical" Video Olivia. Complete with the sweatband. And I was happy.