Chap-Hop Registry
Chap-Hop Superstar.
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At 4.15 in the A.M. last Thursday, Lady C, bless her, drove myself, Mr.Duckie P, Mr. Norway and Carshalton to Gatwick airport for a chaps’ weekend in Berlin to Celebrate Mr.Duckie P’s birthday. As luck would have it, Nick Hollywood, Electro Swing mogul and disc jockey happened to be co-hosting a White Mink/Electro Swing Revolution club night in said city on the very same weekend, so invited me to pop along and play some Chap-Hop to the dear old Hun. An opportunity I jumped at, seeing as they were such a lovely bunch last time I played there at the Notorious White Trash club a couple of years ago.
Mr.Duckie P had arranged a splendid apartment for us to make home base for the weekend and I wasted no time in selecting the room with the chesterfield sofa. After a bit of an afternoon nap Carshalton laid out my evening suit and we headed out into the city.
I had the nap, not Carshalton. He was sent out for provisions. A few hours, numerous litres (larger that you think) of bier and a few schnitzel later we returned and watched Scarface dubbed in German as preparation for the big show the following night.
So, the next day, following largely a liquid breakfast, lunch and dinner we heading off in search of the venue for the evening’s jollities. Technology decided though to take us to an area of derelict buildings covered in graffiti and seemingly populated entirely by chaps in large hooded coats who peddling opiates and what have you. Being chaps, we resisted the abject defeat of asking strangers for directions right up until the point when we all got a little bit scared and cold, so asked a nice lady in what appeared to be a bar in one of said derelict buildings who told us that we were in fact in the right place.
The Astra Kulturhaus, in stark contrast to its exterior looked rather splendid on the inside. Chandeliers, burgundy walls, velvet drapes and rather nicely kitted out dressing rooms in which stood a man-sized fridge full of bier.
The Jerries, as it turned out rather enjoyed a bit of Chap-Hop, particularly, unsurprisingly enough my little tribute to Kraftwerk’s ‘The Model’ to which they ‘la-la-la-ed’ along with considerable aplomb. My only problem came during ‘Acid Edward’. When the SL2 breakdown came and I urged them to throw their hand in the air, they seemed reluctant to do so. I immediately assumed they must not have understood my request, so quick as a flash I bellowed ‘HANDE HOCH!’ in the style of Corporal Jones from dad’s Army and said ‘handes’ were swiftly and enthusiastically ‘hoched’. Turns out they do rather like it up ‘em. Hoorah for them all, I say.
The rest of the evening was something of a blur, although I do recall being somewhat latched onto by a young lady on the train ride back who appeared to have mistaken me for a Frenchman.
My sincere thanks go out to Mr.Hollywood for inviting me along; Wolfram and Johannes for hosting the soiree; Mr.Norway for guiding us about the city with his splendid orienteering skills; Carshalton for general buttling (although there was no need for him to practice Queensbury’s sport on the subway) and Mr.Duckie P for having the idea in the first place…and for dragging us to Muji four days in a row.
Until next chumrades,
Prost!B
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‘THEY DON’T ALLOW RAPPERS IN THE BULLINGDON CLUB’Lyrics (and some chords if you wish to play along)
Higher education, a suitable term
when I was in my cap and gown little did I learn
working not my forte, I Longed for something naughty
By nature I was haughty and one thing that school had taught me
Was to make alliances, Within the diocese
Find those who might assist me in getting what I’d need
after weeks of hanging round, Awaiting arty types
I chanced upon a blond scruff
Spouting utter tripe
‘Boris DePfeffel’ said he
By way of introduction
‘want to join the chaps and I at a private function?’
‘charmed’ said I ‘who are these chums?’
All the toffs round here pretend that they are in the slums
The buller boys said he
In a fuller voice, come see
He put a choice to me
I couldn’t hoist a plea against
Pulling up a seat
With the fully fledged elite
So I put a plan to he
That his band should include mr.B
He asked ‘what do you do?’
‘I am the Gentleman Rhymer’ I proclaimed
He said ‘I’ve heard of you’
Then my position was explained…
G E7
You want to raise hell, be placed well
C Em
but here’s the rub.
A7 D7
They don’t allow rappers in the bullingdon club
I have the relevant qualities to be a buller boy
I am disrespectful to those in my employ
I can smash up a lamp
or slash on a tramp
take cash for questions
When I should be sectioned
Have my CV espoused
by buck house
use my breeding
for party leading
take a bung
but watch my tongue
use cricket as a front
for being rather blunt
take the spoils
without a day of toil
Even then they won’t let me be their foil
Now Boris knew his classics
But clearly was simple
Dave inspired desire
But just to punch him in his dimples
Hs gait was airy fairy
And his plans unsound
and little Georgie never bought a round
Come to think of it, I didn’t want their jobs
And why would mr.b hang around with such nobs?
You can listen to the Smiths
But that’s far from the pith
I’m heading for a snub
And they don’t allow rappers in the bullingdon club
My trouser’s are sharp and my tie is neat
But still mr.b is far too street
And they don’t allow rappers in the bullingdon club
Now it’s all gone bad
I’m more that glad
our leader is a dud
and they did not allow rappers in the bullingdon club. -
A busy weekend of Chap-Hopping.
A merry monday to you all chumrades!
Well, it has been another rummy old weekend of Chap-Hop japes here. Starting on thursday evening with the rather splendid Mat Ricardo’s London Varieties at the characterful and sticky-floored Bethnal Green Working Men’s club. ‘Working’ in this case apparently being more than likely in ‘new media’ or whatever the phrase would be these days. Lovely bunch though and a splendid group of performers including Mr.R himself, Josephine Shaker, Mike Wood, Magic Brian and elder statesman of comedy Arthur Smith. All intertwined with some lovely archive footage of feats of variety (can you have ‘feats’ of variety? it appears you can my friends!) as well as a screening of the our dearly departed Eric Sukes’ short film ‘The Plank’.
Friday was back to the south coast for an electro swing/ comedy mash-up type thingy at the Joiners in Southanmpton, which was very warm, both in temperature and welcome. It may well have been the first time that yours truly has been cheered into a bar. It is something I look forward to becoming used to!
Saturday saw your author drag him scandinavian chum Mr.Norway to the Bestival Wildlife party in Peckham, a district which appears to be trying to re-invent itself as New York circa 1980 with its warehouse do’s and ‘pop up’ bars and what not. Splendid fun though, right up until the moment when my dear chum Mr.R. Da Bank started inadvertently switching my beats off during my rendition of ‘Acid Edward’. We laughed about it afterwards. Well, he did. Mr.Norway in the meantime disappeared with a crate of rider-beer and a rather pulchritudinous young thing he’d plucked from the ladies’ toilet queue.
Then Sunday found me back in God’s own county for Guilfest. Would you believe it, my first outdoor show of the year saw the clouds clear and the sun shine down on Chap-Hop. Hoorah! (repeat x3)
West country dance music combo The Wurzels proved a splendid warm up act, even though I discovered that they had bee deceiving us all these years when I noted that their rider consisted entirely of french wife-beating-encouragement-juic Stella Artois. They also catapulted themselves into a new pop princess style miming storm when they appeared to lip-sync some sort of euro house version of their hit ‘I’ve Got A Brand New Combine Harvester’, which would have been far better honoured with a proper live version. They did the same a few years ago at the Big Chill. I tried to tell them then, but would they listen to old B? Would they arse, as I believe people from that part of the county might say.
Anyhoo, suffice to say, the fine people of Surrey sang along to my ditties with considerable aplomb. Bless them all.
Then home for tea. Next week, Cardiff and poole!
Crikey.
Tinkerty-tonk!
B x
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Afternoon chumrades,
A few Chap-Hoppers have asked me for the full lyrics for some ditties from The Tweed Album, so here’s the first: “Curtsey For Me”. Enjoy singing along!
Curtsey For Me
Ladies, ladies, the eternal mystery
through my history they’ve acted rather sisterly
or they would tend to want to mother master B
they were never after me and I never dastardly
so I never got respect from the hoes
too few yesses and too many no’s
I suppose if one’s a gentleman as part of one job
one can’t make a lady have a go on one’s
Robert Mitchum was a lad and a bit of a cad
but my attempts at that sort of thing were rather bad
I’m glad though, I am, to be be a gentleman
holding doors open and helping your gran
across the road but never toadying
it fills me with foreboding
like posing in draylon and pensioner bling
So I’m not a chap to take liberties
but when once they would have scorned little B
now they curtsey for me, curtsey for me
when once upon a time they would have rather ignored me
back in they day they were all nitpickers
now they’re up and down like a stripper’s knickers
Pop that front leg out
and drop into a little bow
that is how the ladies greet me now
From saltburn to guildford
they bend their knees in the most lady-like way
In southend on sea they terrorise me
but their obeisencey is a lovely display
for now they..
Curtsey for me, curtsey for me
when once upon a time they might have rather ignored me
I like bit of hogging
when I’m in town dear
bow your pretty noggin and while you’re down there
pop the front leg out
and drop into a little bow
that’s how the ladies greet me now
In Henley they bend knees
In forest gate they prostrate
In Guildford they make me feel good
In Puckpool they…no.
(trombone solo)
In kensington bending down
that’s a sight to see
truly I say!
On hampstead heath
skirts can be brief
and then what’s underneath can make a chap run away
when they curtsey for me
curtsey for me
when once upon a time they would have rather ignored me
back in they day they were all nitpickers
now they’re up and down like a stripper’s knickers
pop the front leg out
and drop into a little bow
that is how the ladies greet me now.
………………………………
Tinkerty-tonk!
B
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The Tweed Album Launch etc…
Afternoon chumrades, Chap-Hoppers, B-chaps, Fly-Fillies et al,
Trust the early summer finds you well.
Right then, after ruddy yonks of writing, recording, drinking and smoking The Tweed Album, yours truly’s third album ‘proper’ (not counting O.G. Original gentleman, the download-only compilation of original material from the first two…do please take note of this, I cannot keep telling people!)…where was I?…
Oh yes! The Tweed Album is finally here. Fourteen Chap-Hop, Acid-Ragtime, Aristo-Rock and Big-Band-Big-Beat ditties to tickle one’s toes and…you get the gist.
Anyhoo, we here at CHBCHQ (The Chap-Hop Business Concern) have been hard at work, in between bouts of tea/sherry drinking, elevensies, consumption, supper…etc have been working our be-suspendered socks (not that my glamourous chairwoman Miss O wears socks of course) off to make sure you, my dear chums hear of it and join in the fun.
Anyhoo, last thursday saw the press launch at the Walker Slater tweed emporium on the Fulham in sunny west London and a rather splendid a rummy (or should I say ‘ginny’) old do it was too. The store’s fine oak counter became a bar stocked full of Hendrick’s gin. A large ‘salut!’ to them and in particular our barkeep, Duncan for getting us all royally enebriated gratis, most kind. The great and the good turned out- my good chums the Correspondents, poet and raconteur Frog Morris (who actually booked my first ever recital, so it’s largely his fault); burlesque star the lovely Beatrix Von Bourbon, the lovely Sadie from Vintage TV, Diary Of A Vintage Girl’s lovely Fleur De Guerre…the great and the good were in attendance, including the most-lovely -of all Lady C of course. Even Mater and Pater rolled up for the gin and Chap-Hop, which I provided with a quick recital…just next to the till. For some reason, whilst I was doing my thing on the old M.I.C, I couldn’t help but glance in papa’s direction every time one of the more saucy lines was spluttered through my gin-soaked lips. I simply couldn’t avoid the old man’s gaze in the more inopportune moments. Without fail he would do one of thosae faces which expresses ‘Oh crikey’ without the words.
I’m sure you can conjure up the image.
Anyhoo, a jolly old time was had by all. Plans are afoot for further Mr.B accessories (along with the already popular silk club tie, see the Chap-Hop Shop at gentlemanrhymer.com) as well as Tweed Album gift boxes and, oh heavens, all sort of nonsense.
Anyhoo, hope you all enjoy The Tweed Album, it is out now and has been described by audiobattenberg as ‘A psychedelic Chap-Hop masterpiece’.
Tinkerty-Tonk!
B
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UNIQUE UKE…
Chumrades,
A very splendid, sunny spring afternoon to you all. Just thought I would have a little catch up and tell of something which I’m frightfully about.
In January I played a show at one of my favourite and most-visited venues in Blighty, the Lass O’Gowrie in Manchester. ‘Twas there where I was approached by a young chap called Chris Small who explained that he was an admirer of my particular ouvre and was an instrument maker in his spare time. He then told me that he would like to make a ukulele for me. I was most touched and more than a little excited by the prospect.
I have always thought that a ukulele version of the old Eddie Cochrane/Brian Setzer Gretsch guitar would be rather lovely and enthusiastically told him this. He agreed it would be a splendid plan and has since then set about doing just that. He’s keeping me updated with photographs of the glorious machine’s progress and I cannot wait to get my grubby paws on it. Here are a couple of shots…
Chris is hoping to be able to make instruments full time. I for one think the may may well be a genius, so any ukers out there who fancy something unique, do get in touch!
Tinkerty-tonk!
B
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Morning all,
Some ladies and gents have asked for lyrics to a some Chap-Hop favourites, so here’s the current request- Let Me Smoke My Pipe.
Do let me know if you wish to see any others.
Well I’m the Gentleman Rhymer named Mr.B
I like to smoke my pipe with a cup of tea
Lapsang Suchong and devilled kidneys
Why would anybody want to stop me?
I’m a man of taste, a man of finesse
But I must get something off my chest
I’ll abide by the laws of your watering holes
But I won’t stand in the rain with a pack of ruddy proles
Puffing on their Marlboros or Mayfair Lights
Or worse, those herbal trade fair types
If I was in the club with a broadsheet
Waiting for a pinky rub on my bored feet
I would watch them from the window in their sportswear shoes
Now I’ve got to go out and be bored there too
So prime minister sir, this just won’t do
Listen to my plea to you, please.
Let me smoke my pipeThe pipe, the pipe, let’s pack the pipe
My pipe smells nice check one
My pipe smells nice check two
My Pipe smells nice check three
The smoke’s all gone, but now the pubs smell of wee
My pipe smells nice check one
My pipe smells nice check two
My Pipe smells nice check three
Won’t you come and smoke a pipe with me
Come on, smoke it.……………………………….
There we go,
Pip-pip for now!
B
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Chumrades!
After a summer of splendid, if a little mucky festivals, an Edinburgh run and a lot of writing, here is the first fruit of the labour of love which will be ‘The Tweed Album’. ‘Tis called ‘Curtsey For Me and I hope you all enjoy it.
Pip-pip for now!
Your humble servant,
B
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Evening chumrades, here is the brand new Mr.B video…Chap-Hop hoorah!
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Afternoon all,
I have recently, after many years of concentrating rather heavily on the production, writing and performing of my own (and sometimes others’) ditties, returned to the old wheels of brass and come up with a couple of Dj mixes for your delight and delectation and what have you. Here’s the latest…Music To Dress To!
http://soundcloud.com/gentlemanrhymer/music-to-dress-to-mr-b-dj-mix
I do hope you enjoy it. Once you’re there, you should be able to find my earlier mix ‘Chap-Hop International’, as well as a number of other Chap-Hop exclusives and oddities.
Your humble servant,
Mr.B
