Ever Fallen in Love With Someone You Shouldn't've

Dear Daniel,

Last night I was in Hull, England, for a reunion of DJs, newscasters, salespeople and creatives who spent some part of the last 25 years working at Viking FM (or the whole part if you are Chris the Cleaner). I had a splendid night. Even luminaries who have gone on to bigger things Jon Culshaw, Simon Hirst and JK and Joel turned up, which is testament to how we all feel about the place.

So, in amongst the mess, there was a turn by Hull-raised former mister sexy Britain Roland Gift (who a friend of mine once claimed to have had sex with until the picture above the bed came crashing off the wall, framing mister Gift for his big moment of giving).

I wondered to myself as I saw him at breakfast the next day (unrelated to the previous sentence; we were at the same hotel), did the Fine Young Cannibals produce any songs which I might like? As I mopped up the beans with some chewy white toast, I thought to myself, "probably not."

And that's where the story ends because after finding She Drives Me Crazy (no 5 in January 1989) I became far more interested in cover versions than in any potentially more "experimental" work which featured Gift's presence. To wit:



and



Both of which are the finalists for "most ill-advised cover version of all-time". At 1'26" - should you make it - you'll hear Dolly brag how she "can get any wrist," but fails to expand on whether there will be a hand attached.

My favourite appearance of Roland Gift, even after last night and notwithstanding the framing incident, is at 1'39" of the video for Nothing Has Been Proved (again, despite the framing). I'm surprised I managed to remember the surprise Gift in this, what with most of the video being taken up with Dusty Springfield attempting not to look at the camera and the dreadful whisper-solo by a bloke who, it appears, should have stayed back at the pet shop.



The last I saw of Roland as he was leaving the reunion was an argument with what was possibly his manager about where his taxi was. I got the feeling he didn't want to be there. He barely smiled, and shrugged off an attempt by one of the DJs to tell him how much he admired his work. He finally bundled his oversized holdall into the back of a cab and disappeared into the night without a word. Free Gift.

Dear James,

A marvellous post and quite a talent for working the "gift" pun in there at least three times. Or should I say, quite a gift? No.

Sadly, having got round to buying some speakers for the computer, I've now discovered immense radio interference from my beast of a computer so I'll have to get Adolfo the IT tech round before full resumption of all my blog fun. But from what I could hear of those covers, yes, they're shit. But the last one, thankfully, isn't available in my dominion.