I have written the fourth exciting (citation needed) instalment of the second series of Steve's LP Box. When I first thought of doing the second run, I struggled to find six albums out of the couple of thousand that I own. The temptation was (and I think every man would do this) to deliberately come up with six obscure, arty, limited edition, before-they-were-well-known, "it's okay, I don't expect YOU to have heard of it", albums. However, I have struck a balance with the albums that I have chosen, and can certainly not be accused of snobbery. I've two more to write now and then I'll record them, probably over one full day.
The fact that I am so close to pulling another Post-It note (other sticky notes are available) off my office wall and tossing it into the recycling bin is most pleasing of course, but there are loads more still there so I do get the feeling that I'm sweeping leaves on a windy autumn day. After LP Box has been uploaded and I am free to forget about it, my next project will be a similar thing (by which I mean something that no radio station will want but I want to do for my own enjoyment and passion for the subject, which podcasts allow you to do without worrying what a bunch of tits in suits think about it) to LP Box; a retrospective on music hall greats. There isn't a huge amount of source material available, aside from the more popular performers like Marie Lloyd or George Formby, so I'll have to see what I can find audio-wise first. George Formby doesn't really count in my opinion as a music hall comedian, (same goes for Max Miller), as they came a bit later and belong more to the variety era, but they do come from that tradition so by default they can be included. My love of music hall comedy is well documented of course, I opened most editions of The Sunday Alternative with an old ditty.
The Victorian music hall 'scene' is something I've long been fascinated with, and it ties in with my love of all things Victorian. The very word 'Victorian' is a description that falls down two sides of the fence as far as documenting history is concerned; a Victorian ballroom, mansion, hotel, pier, theatre, or railway station conjure up images of opulence and grandeur. Victorian hospital, orphanage, workhouse, slum. They project the other side of the time in a frighteningly grim way that thankfully doesn't exist now.
Although I do happen to believe that we as a country should perhaps start doing some research into the workhouse. The threat of being sent to the workhouse hung over unemployed Victorian adults, in a time before benefits. We now have a lot of people who have never worked a day, and don't intend ever doing so. Rather than letting us taxpayers foot the bill for their idle lifestyles, they could be threatened with work or workhouse. I'm sure the problem would soon sort itself out. But this should mean a return to Victorian values too, no health and safety/human rights bollocks, you're in to work for food, it isn't a holiday camp.
Although there was a huge division between the haves and the have-nots, what we don't have nowadays (aside from Bill Gates and a couple of others) is the philanthropist. The big businessmen used their money to benefit the poor and needy, they built schools, libraries, and hospitals for example.
Something that does unfortunately exist today, is an unfavourable comparison between the social problems of the Victorian era, and those we see everyday. Charles Booth wrote in the 1903 paper Life and Labour Of People In London that women "let the whole world know if they have had too much" to drink in public. Is that any different to the gaggling hen parties we see in their tasteful stretch limos, full of Bacardi Breezer and sperm of unknown origin? The 'yobs' who terrorised the streets, fought against rival gangs with knives and belt buckles, made the streets a danger zone after dark, and didn't fear the largely powerless force of the police sound like a far bigger threat than today's baggy trousered, gun toting chavs, in fact our modern chavs seem quite silly in comparison. Things haven't really changed at all, it just seems better than the past in some ways, (welfare, cleanliness, equality), but in other ways, who wouldn't want to return to those times? The prison system was far superior in Victorian times; flogging, the treadmill, the noose, compare that to today, when a prison sentence is seen as a badge of honour and nobody learns a lesson.
What those people needed to escape from their shitty lives, was affordable entertainment that the whole family could enjoy. This is where music hall came in, for a cheap entry fee they could enjoy singers, comedians, jugglers, and all manner of bawdy, unabashed entertainment. Nottingham has a rich history where music hall is concerned, as do all working class industrial cities, which is what has recently sparked my imagination. Although we have pretty much obliterated our music halls, one still stands, The Malt Cross. I haven't done live promoting for donkeys years, but I quite fancy the idea of a revival music hall night, bands, comedians, speciality acts, and such. The success of Britain's Got Talent shows that we still want to watch that sort of thing. If I don't get round to doing it, someone will prove me right by stealing my idea and taking all the credit and money, and it wouldn't be the first time.
===
