David Belcher and friends blow
the whistle on this year's cash-in
crop of World Cup records
LIKE Bill Shankly, some people believe football-related pop songs are a matter of trite lyrics aimed at tone-deaf punters, but I can tell you it's much more worser than that at the end of the day, Gary. Take this year's cash-in crop of World Cup records - puh-leeze, take them now and ram them down Jimmy Hill's throat!
Two World Cup 98 collections were this week couch-tested by four Partick Thistle fans: Rab, Noddy, Wee Davie, and Auld Davie. First, the Firhill fat-headed backwards four tittered at Allez! Ola! Ole!, a FIFA-sanctioned collection of tunes by everyone from Scotland's ain Del Amitri to England's Baddiel and Skinner.
''Why have they made Ricky Martin's The Cup Of Life the official World Cup song?'' asked Rab. ''Cop these lyrics: 'I see it in your eyes/You want the cup of life.' Ricky should have had the strength of his convictions and rhymed it properly - 'Cup of lies' - thereby indicating his dissatisfaction with FIFA's miserable allocation of tickets to us punters.''
''If Chumbawamba were a footballer,'' said Noddy gravely, recoiling from the anarcho-punk collective's Top Of The World, ''they would be even worse than that blonde baboon who plays upfront for Falkirk . . . aye, Chumbawamba are worse than Paul McGrillen.''
Wee Davie had tears in his eyes long before the end of Del Amitri's downbeat Don't Come Home Too Soon. ''I know now that this will be the accompaniment to Sportscene's sad, slow-motion summary of Scotland's World Cup 98 campaign,'' he spluttered.
''As we sit at home in front of the telly, there'll be Justin Currie's lamenting tones; a weeping, bare-chested Colin Hendry saluting the fans, and an inevitable montage of all the fluffed half-chances which resulted in yet another Scottish early exit.''
Auld Davie was perplexed by Sash's version of the Village People's Go West. ''Aside from the central refrain of 'Go west,' they've lost all the words,'' he observed. So what words are missing, asked Noddy.
''The Partick Thistle words . . . 'We're shite and we know we are, shite and we know we are','' replied Auld Davie. Further puzzlement was inspired by the words to Youssou N'Dour's official World Cup anthem, Do You Mind If I Play. ''Does he really say: 'Football is a magical disease'?'' queried Rab. Indeed he does. And he might be right.
Gallic synthesiser maestro Jean Michel Jarre was involved in two collaborative efforts, one French-Japanese, the other French-English. Both songs aroused Noddy's ire. ''Synthesisers are Satan's tools,'' he spat eloquently.
The updated version of the English Euro96 hit, Three Lions, by Baddiel, Newman, and the Lightning Seeds? More lyrical outrage. '' 'We're ready for war/Gazza's good as before' - Scotland thinks not,'' scoffed Rab.
Noddy and Rab were at odds over Keith Allen's self-confessedly moronic anthem, Vindaloo. ''This is an ironic, anti-racist satire on the mindlessness of England's footy hooligans,'' stated Rab. ''It's an old Max Wall song - and it's still pro-England,'' riposted Noddy.
In the second half, the quartet guffawed their way through Football Classics, a double CD teaming classical arias with orchestral versions of the national anthems of all 32 World Cup finalists. Pavarotti's Italia 90 hit Nessun Dorma aside, the classical winner was the boy Verdi. He done great with his Triumphal March from Aida.
National anthems? Unexpectedly educational. ''I never knew that Cameroon's national anthem was the same as France's, minus the last note of every bar,'' was Wee Davie's accurate summary.
''And I never knew that Nigeria's national anthem is Oh Little Town Of Bethlehem speeded-up slightly,'' said Rab with equal accuracy.
''Belgium's anthem belongs in a black-and-white British war film,'' said Noddy. ''You can imagine Squadron Leader ffortescue-Smyth standing on the white cliffs of Dover, watching his battered Dambusters fly home.''
And on that peaceable and Euro-friendly note, my referee's whistle blew.
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