Quattro Fromaggio

A great deal has happened in the six weeks since last I posted to this blog. Too much work, rowing, studying and a particularly splendid fortnight in Zermatt have comprised a generalised conspiracy of events that have, um, conspired to frustrate scholarly treatments of a variety of topics that I had planned to expose to the world, or at least to my ever-swelling readership - all six of you. One theme filed and misbehaving under "bloggable", but requiring more research:

My shocking discovery of "How ABBA saved the world from the 70s but accidentally caused the 80s"

I will be working this in as the central theme of my upcoming novel "The Dancing Queen Code" (working title, no publisher as yet). The story opens with the bizarre murder of a crazed ABBA fan, 30 years to the day after Waterloo won the 1974 Eurovision Song Contest. Through a tangled web of intrigue, our hero - a Pop Symbologist - will follow a trail of song lyrics, old posters, online shrines, cover versions, memorabilia and interviews as he unravels the incredible truth about one of the murkier sub-periods in modern musical history. His journey will take him from Richard Nixon (what documents/lyrics were really uncovered during the Watergate investigation?), through the dark times of Thatcherism to the "co-incidental" appearance of the World Wide Web and ABBA revivalism, and ultimately to the opening of Mamma Mia to mark the dawning of the Age of Aquarius and 1000 Years of Disco.

Why does Agnetha live reclusively in Stockholm, refusing to grant interviews to this day? Who were the mysterious Fernando and Chiquitita? What the fuck is a Super Trouper? The incredible truth will be revealed...

But enough spoilers. Today's post was originally intended to celebrate one of the twee-est creations to emerge from the 70s. Charlene's "Never Been to Me". The lyrics and a short discussion can be found here: http://www.charlenesmusic.com/never.html

Never Been to Me was ahead of its time (it should have been firmly in the middle of that great fondue pot that was the 80s). It is filled with fabulous - albeit frivolous - lyrics. One line casually refers to the "Isle of Greece", a minor geographical anomaly when one considers that there are over 1400 Hellenic islands... Nevertheless, you can imagine the transports I experienced the other day upon discovering that there is a version written for a male singer. Even I have felt a bit funny singing some of the more feminist bits in the shower. Sadly, the almost unbelievably cheesey spoken bridge in the middle lacks an equivalent in the male version, though on the plus side, there is apparently a recording of it by Howard Keel, whose crooning baritone, enormous moustache, and Dallas credentials can only add weight to it all. I gleefully await finding a copy.