This is the true story of Chris Sievey, the ruddy idiot who was better known to millions as Frank Sidebottom, the man/boy, singer/songwriter, comedian/entertainer who wore a great big cardboard head. My nephew Michael thought that he was the bee’s knees. I could take him or leave him. He was a soft so and so in my book.
To be honest, I think it is dangerous for anyone to spend long periods pretending to be someone else for the purposes of entertainment. Or for any other purpose really. I remember that episode of Colditz on the television, where one of the prisoners pretended to have gone barmy so convincingly that he eventually managed to get the Germans to send him home on compassionate grounds. The only thing was, by the time he got home he had become who he was pretended to be and had gone properly barmy. I know it was only on the television, but apparently it was based on a true story.
And what about that David Bowie when he pretended to be Ziggy Stardust eh? Aye, I know all about that. Sent him proper doollalley it did. And that Sid Vicious out of the Sexy Pistols. He ended up murdering his girlfriend on account of the fact that he couldn’t stop pretending that he was a wicked beggar who didn’t know any better. The world of showbusiness is littered with such tragic stories. Jimmy Clitheroe, the Krankies, Bungle, Zippy and George, John Shuttleworth, Ken Barlow. All of that lot went stark staring mad after a bit. Which just goes to show… You shouldn’t dabble with forces thad you don’t understand.
Look at our Michael, convinced that he is possessed by the spirit of a long dead aunt. Wearing her tights an’all and going around talking in a silly voice. There’s only one place he’s headed. The ruddy funny farm!
Any road, this “Frank” book, it’s not very long, but it’s a good read. And they are bringing a film out about it too. So one way or the other you will be able to decide for yourself whether he was a barm-pot or a genius. Or both.
Or neither I suppose.
There are some good anecdotes in the book, which you will probably laugh at. They tickled me. And there are also some nice pictures of Frank and some of his friends. The best thing is, that off you have one of these kindles what nots you can have it for 59 pence. Which is good value seeing as how they reckon that they are flogging the paperback for £7.99, which is obviously a rip off. I haven’t actually seen a paperback one, but they must be ruddy thin. Either that or they have ruddy big writing in them.
I would certainly buy a kindles copy if I was still alive. But then again, maybe not, as I have already read it. Our Michael bought me it. I would let you borrow mine, but it’s stuck in the internet somewhere and I don’t know how to get it to you. Anyway, it’s only fifty odd pence so you ruddy well ought to get your own.
You know you should.
You really should.