leave right now
Sunday was a wonderful afternoon - I seem to have gotten quite drunk (again). must stop doing that; I’m told my new nickname is pre-Rehab Ronnie. But you can call me Keith.
Sunday night was a little less sparkling: A well constructed show, with good costumes, nice set pieces, decent choreography, and one or two pretty songs (including a sob-inducing ‘All time love’). But overall, Mr Y is, like his show, a little lacking. In sparkle, charisma, whatever.
Apart from being a racist with little sense of his own nation’s history. One of his comments, about ten minutes in, was, paraphrased,
“Welcome to the London gig of our world tour. Of Britain.” So far, so witty and self-deprecating. Next up, again, paraphrased, was “We played Dublin the other night; I made some comment about being in the British Isles,” pause, “It didn’t go down too well. I thought they were going to throw potatoes at us.”
Now, what’s wrong with this little interlude? Apart from the fact that it’s taking place in an arena that could have at least one Irish person in it, who might think that a stupid middle-class middle-Englander could be forgiven for thinking that certain parts of the globe are still perpetually stained red?
Well, the other thing wrong with it is if, say, he’d played Mombassa, mistakenly said that they were still part of the British Empire, and gotten a frosty reception, would Willy have felt comfortable standing on stage saying “I thought they were going to throw spears at us and go all Zulu on our arses?” No. Probably not. Because that would be racist, and his all-black band and backing singers would have justifiably felt insulted.
But Potatoes? The Irish? It’s funny. I’ve done it myself, but I’m not a plummy stupid big-eared lantern-jawed crooner of rather bland balladry.
Shame, Will.
October 4th, 2006 at 11:27 am
So it is true he is a wanker after all