Jingle Belles, Little Frank Smells

Oh no he doesn't actually 'cos he's made of cardboard.

Thursday night at the Bull and Gate, Kentish Town, London. MustyMC and I arrived feeling a little down, either due to work problems or manic depression. We hadn't really entered into the Christmas spirit yet but that was soon to change with the help of some young girls, lovely ladies and Frank Sidebottom. The need to stock up on curry and alcohol meant we missed the opening act, however we caught the set by girl group The Duloks. They knocked out some very short, very quirky, fun pop tunes. All the time though I kept thinking 'gosh, they look so young. Shouldn't they be doing their school homework instead?'

Next up were The Actionettes - a barely choreographed all-girl dance troupe. The Actionettes looked perfect for the evening, shaking and moving around in their red and white outfits. They could have done with a big introduction announced over the PA and the music they danced to was played at too low a volume. Despite this they were enjoying themselves, their enthusiasm and unprofessional charm rubbing off on the audience.


OK, hold your nose (blocking your nostrils) and say out loud with me,
'And now... it's time for Frank Sidebottom...'
When Santa Claus walked onto the stage I was a little puzzled. However, he soon took off his red robe to reveal that it wasn't Santa at all, it was Frank!

Timperly's greatest son ran through many of his top hits including Anarchy in Timperly, Zoo Scrapbook and The Robbins aren't bobbins. Little Frank made a swift guest appearance in his Heavy Met-al clothes and sang along on Hit The North before his head was unceremoniously removed and stuck on a microphone stand. Boo!


Something astonishing then followed. Somehow Frank seemed to uncannily channel into himself the spirits of dead pop stars Paul McCartney, Freddie Mer-cury and Elvis Presley. His dead good renditions of Frank Gordon and Bohemian Rhapsody brought tears to my eyes.

At the end of a great night the audience left the warmth of the Bull and Gate to face the damp cold outside and a walk down the high road. Merry Christmas, Kebab House! Merry Christmas, Tube Station! Merry Christmas, you wonderful old Estate Agents!

www.franksworld.co.uk