Show
Yesterday was the day of Didi's dance class show, in which the various age-group classes ponce around to various chart hits, dressed in inappropriate costumes and wearing inappropriate make-up.
There was also some red-faced bloke (looked like he came straight from the Farmer's Market) singing karaoke-style; a brass band; and a schoolboy rock band.
Didi has been taking dance lessons for well over a year now, and she can be a nice little mover. It was hilarious last summer, when we attended a christening do in France, and - early in the proceedings - someone put on some kind of French folk CD. Didi stood on her own on the dance floor and started doing Riverdance-style moves, so accurately that I assumed she'd been learning it in her classes.
Not so, however. It seems she invented it for herself.
In all three of her numbers in the two-hour show, Didi was a complete anarchist, standing up when the others were kneeling, kneeling when they were standing up, running around on the stage out of formation, and generally having a whale of a time. Thing is, I strongly suspect she could have achieved all this without the dance lessons.
She was funny, though.
Also funny was the school rock band, for all kinds of reasons. The singer was clearly terrified, and terrible. He sang a flat monotone throughout, which might not have been so obvious if they hadn't been singing (the G 'n' R version of) Knocking on Heaven's Door and Sweet Child o' Mine. I empathised, because it is scary being the singer. Especially when you know you're not up to it.
Which was part of the fun, because it's always been the case - in Darkest Beds and Bucks - that the only kind of music that anybody likes is RORCKKKK!, complete with leather jackets, spots, and long hair.
The lead guitarist, playing a red SG, had some pretty good chops, but his sound was truly the most horrible guitar sound I've ever heard, like six dyspeptic bumblebees trapped in a jar. I suspect it may have been close to the original Slash sound, but still. Nobody should ever buy a Laney amp.
Perhaps the funniest thing of all was that they had different bass players for each of the two songs they did. Competition for places in the band was clearly hot, but usually nobody wants to play bass.
There was also some red-faced bloke (looked like he came straight from the Farmer's Market) singing karaoke-style; a brass band; and a schoolboy rock band.
Didi has been taking dance lessons for well over a year now, and she can be a nice little mover. It was hilarious last summer, when we attended a christening do in France, and - early in the proceedings - someone put on some kind of French folk CD. Didi stood on her own on the dance floor and started doing Riverdance-style moves, so accurately that I assumed she'd been learning it in her classes.
Not so, however. It seems she invented it for herself.
In all three of her numbers in the two-hour show, Didi was a complete anarchist, standing up when the others were kneeling, kneeling when they were standing up, running around on the stage out of formation, and generally having a whale of a time. Thing is, I strongly suspect she could have achieved all this without the dance lessons.
She was funny, though.
Also funny was the school rock band, for all kinds of reasons. The singer was clearly terrified, and terrible. He sang a flat monotone throughout, which might not have been so obvious if they hadn't been singing (the G 'n' R version of) Knocking on Heaven's Door and Sweet Child o' Mine. I empathised, because it is scary being the singer. Especially when you know you're not up to it.
Which was part of the fun, because it's always been the case - in Darkest Beds and Bucks - that the only kind of music that anybody likes is RORCKKKK!, complete with leather jackets, spots, and long hair.
The lead guitarist, playing a red SG, had some pretty good chops, but his sound was truly the most horrible guitar sound I've ever heard, like six dyspeptic bumblebees trapped in a jar. I suspect it may have been close to the original Slash sound, but still. Nobody should ever buy a Laney amp.
Perhaps the funniest thing of all was that they had different bass players for each of the two songs they did. Competition for places in the band was clearly hot, but usually nobody wants to play bass.
posted by Anonymous at
Monday, February 06, 2006
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