As performed by Eric T. F. Bat, Mistress Cath Lawrence and Woody at Hobart’s 50IV, June/July 1999. This came to me during the IV camp, and I sort of fiddled around with it like a loose tooth, until I suddenly found the chorus lurking on a previously blank piece of paper, and after that it was all easy. In fact, it took longer to decide on Bernstein (in the last line of verse 1) than it did to write all the rest of the song. The result, aided amply by Mistress Cath on vocals and Woody on piano, was astonishing: I have a photo, courtesy of Jon the Prevert, of Foetus rupturing himself (must’ve been the chorus) and Kynan just looked dazed. We won the Revue trophy: an ugly thing. I got it engraved with our names and passed it on to the next winners in the fullness of time.
June 1999
Sound Control to Kynan Johns…
Sound Control to Kynan Johns…
Tie your bow tie up and put your trousers on.
Sound Control to Kynan Johns…
Commencing concert; tape deck on.
Flex your baton and may Bernstein be with you…
(A-one, a-two, a-one-two-three-four…)
This is Sound Control to Kynan Johns
You’ve really pulled a crowd
And the tenors want to know who cuts your hair
Now it’s time to cue the basses if you dare
This is Kynan Johns to Sound Control
I’m raging through the score
And I’m bouncing in a most peculiar way
And the choir sounds quite professional today
And here am I, wanking in the spotlight
Far above my peers
Planet Earth can see
There’s no prodigy like me…
Though I know one hundred thousand moves
I’m feeling very still
And I doubt this chorus knows which way to go
Tell the sops to sing fortissimo – they know
Sound Control to Kynan Johns
It’s interval – the choir is gone
Can you hear me Kynan Johns?
Can you hear me Kynan Johns?
Can you hear me Kynan Johns?
Can you —
Here am I, wanking in the spotlight
Far above my peers
Planet Earth can see
There’s no prodigy like me…