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07 Ironing My Goldfish
Ironing My Goldfish - Print Email PDF 
Posted by bretta 15/07/2006

Index

» Ironing My Goldfish

GOODIES MUSIC REVIEW #7  -  IRONING MY GOLDFISH

 

(from C&G #34  September 1998)

 

Hi there pop pickers and welcome to this month's music review.

 

WHO?

 

When we left you last month, you might recall that your hosts YawnalongaMax Boregraves and Irma Teapot O.B.E. were merrily bopping along to the strains of "I'm A Teapot". Well we've since decided that they're both far too loony to disturb and therefore their recording studio has been encased in a 350 foot high block of solid concrete for the next 1 year, 7 months, 4 days, 3 hours, 5 minutes and 10.3 seconds. This will give YawnalongaMax enough time to croon out his latest album (well, a couple of songs anyway!) and will also give poor Irma plenty of reasons to keep a hand on the hip and one in the air (at least until the "turps for burps" kick in and drown her sorrows!).

And now we switch over to this month's dastardly DJ's Cap'n Fishface (AKA Brett Allender) and "Rancid Halibut" Gill Bletts (AKA Alison Bean) for a review of "IRONING MY GOLDFISH" by The Goodies.

 

WHERE? WHEN?

 

On their '70's album "The Goodies Beastly Record".

 

WHAT?

 

Lyrics: sung by Tim

 

Oh oh oh, how I wish, I could buy myself a pet flat fish

But no one wants to sell their sole

A flounder or halibut would be very pally, but

You hardly ever see a skate, that hasn't been mashed on a plate

 

And so, I'm … ironing my goldfish, ironing my goldfish

A big steam iron on his face, I'll keep on trying 'til I get some plaice

Oh I'm ironing my goldfish, smoothing out his surplus fat

I know it's rather cruel but it's oh such fun

Ironing my goldfish flat, hey hey, ironing my goldfish flat

 

I tried to use a rolling pin, he only came out long and thin

Then I thought if he was squeezed beneath

A small elephant a day, he'd look like a manta ray

But I couldn't make my goldfish squash, 'til I put him in with the wash

 

And now, I'm … ironing my goldfish, ironing my goldfish

And now he's like a tobacco leaf, I wear him in my pocket like a handkerchief

Oh ironing my goldfish, I use him as a table mat

I know it's rather cruel but it's oh such fun

Ironing my goldfish flat, hey hey, ironing my goldfish flat

 

He's rather like a turbot with the shiny nose

 

Ironing my goldfish flat … and that's that!  [splat!]

 

Cap'n Fishface: To a delightful rolling honky tonk rhythm, Tim tells of his mis-plaiced attempts to get himself a pet flat fish. He's no cheap-skate, in fact "a flounder or halibut would be very pally but ..." no-one wants to sell their sole so he sadistically settles for flattening his goldfish with an iron to smooth out its surplus fat (after a less than successful attempt with a rolling pin).

 

Gill: In another Goodies song wrapped in newspaper and filled with fish and quips, Tim wants to purchase a big, flat fish. But after doing the rounds of the pet shops and failing to find one, he feels about as blue as the water in the sea. It is then that he suddenly seas the light, all he needs to do is take an existing fish and get rid of the surplus fat. But as aquarobics had not been invented in the 70s and Jenny Craig and Gloria Marshall were still two fat ladies, Tim had to engage in the sort of ichthyological sadism that would be of great interest to the RSPCA. First he tried a rolling pin, then got an elephant to stand on it, until finally he realised that his fish needed water (or rather the washing machine), followed by a good hard iron. Now the fish is as thin as a tobacco leaf, but as yet, iron-man Tim has not rolled his fish into a reef-er.

 

WHY?

 

Cap'n Fishface: After putting up with pesky pets of the calibre of the giant kitten, Frankenfido, a Patagonian nosebulb etc (not to mention the ubiquitous gaggle of gibbons - funky, stuffed and saucy) it's little wonder that Tim wants a fine flat fishy friend instead. And what better way to eliminate fin flop, save on fish food and create more room in the tank than by ironing his goldfish while doing his Union Jack socks and jocks. He can even kipper goldfish in his waistcoat pocket and use it as a bonus hanky if necessary, although the animal lib people may well carp and whale about this!

 

Gill: When fashion calls you have to answer, style is the key and when beer battered butterfish has gone the way of the bubble-skirt you've gotta get your skates on and iron that goldfish flat (and that's that). But what if you flounder and manage to send your goldfish to a not so watery grave when you stick the iron on its face? Don't worry, because with a side serve of seaweed you've got a delicious Asian style steamed fish that is guaranteed to be highly rated by the Galloping Gourmet, on a scale of one to ten. And if your goldfish survives his trip to the steam room? Then an ocean of possibilities has stretched before you and one of those possibilities is that you can write a fun but very, very gilly song about it.

 

HOW?

 

Using the Black Pudding Rating System:

 

MUSIC: Cap'n Fishface: III Goody Goody Yum Yum; Gill: III Goody Goody Yum Yum.

 

SINGING: Cap'n Fishface: IIII Officially Amazing; Gill: III Goody Goody Yum Yum.

 

HUMOUR: Cap'n Fishface: IIII Officially Amazing; Gill: II Fair-y Punkmother.

 

ALL TOGETHER NOW: Cap'n Fishface: IIII Officially Amazing; Gill: III Goody Goody Yum Yum.

 

THE BLACK PUDDING RATINGS SYSTEM

 

IIIII - Superstar.

IIII  - Officially amazing.

III   - Goody goody yum yum.

II    - Fair-y punkmother.

I     - Tripe on t' pikelets.




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