BILLY CONNOLLY – "D.I.V.O.R.C.E."

No – there was “A Boy Named Sue” in ’69 which bleeped out the expression “son of a bitch.”

These days Solo Concert sounds remarkably tame when compared with Connolly’s later work but the double album is reputedly Scotland’s all-time best seller, even if mostly to adolescent boys looking for a bit of local snotty colour, and things like his controversial “Crucifixion” routine (where the Last Supper is revealed to have taken place, not in Galilee, but in Gallowgate – “near the Cross…NEAR THE CROSS ach for-GET it!”) and his demolition of Scotland’s own Elvis-style jumpsuited country hero Sydney Devine on “Nobody’s Child” are still a delight.

(n.b.: Sydney Devine came second to Alex Harvey in the 1957 Scotland’s Elvis contest but went down the route of lachrymose ballads about silver-haired grannies on the point of passing away and is still a superstar at home, though unknown in Carlisle)

By now, of course, he had done Parkinson and crossed over nationally, and by dint of his prior involvement in the Scottish folk-rock scene with the Humblebums (first with Tam Harvey, then with Gerry Rafferty) he opened the floodgates for a host of provincial folkies-turned-comics; Wales’ Max Boyce actually had a number one album around this time – We All Had Doctors’ Papers – while Brummie Jasper Carrott went top five with his “Funky Moped” even though that was largely bought (again, mainly by adolescent boys) because of its banned B-side, Carrott’s celebrated reworking of The Magic Roundabout, as quoted endlessly in my school playground at the time). And there was Mike Harding the Rochdale Cowboy. I’m not quite sure whether Connolly alone prompted the mass folk-to-cabaret exodus but it’s a curious evolution whichever way you look at it.

His “D-I-V-O-R-C-E” is literally a shaggy dog story; the dog bites him, goes mad, and then so does his wife, so he gets rid of both (charming), but his contagious humour and good nature just about see it through.

But he is always best seen live, where one can marvel at his ability to venture extremely far from his starting point, just as Coltrane would use “My Favourite Things” or “Chim Chim Cheree” as a launch pad for flying off into space; like Coltrane, you sometimes wonder whether he’ll ever be able to get back, but one twist and one smile and he magically connects with the premise again.

There’s at least one upcoming parody I *certainly* thought was funnier than the original at the time.

An episode of Columbo directed by Patrick McGoohan if I remember rightly. How good does life get?

The answer is:

“…and called me an F-ing C.”

As for Billy, I’ve not heard this song since it was a hit. The last line is the one I can remember most clearly, probably because of the odd way he sings the double E to force scansion.

thanks MC, i was kind of guessing it must be, but was hoping for a rhyme at least 😉

Although I think that this song is one of Billy’s weaker moments as a comedian, ( I prefer his tangled tales ) – I’m glad it got him introduced to the public at large. I ” discovered” Billy during my travels abroad in ’75 , when I eventually ended up in Scotland staying with my relatives. The very LP pictured here was given to me by my uncle ( now long gone ) and I still have it.

I’ve seen The Big Yin live a couple of times and loved it. We weren’t overexposed to Connelly in ad’s and in media in Canada and though he was popular it was only cult status in the Scot’s & UK ex-pat community . Although he did try to do a sit com in the USA, that failed.

I liked him alot in ” Mrs. Brown ” and his old Humblebums pal , Gerry Rafferty of ” Baker Street” fame has realeased a long string of very fine CD’s, from “City to City” to “Another World”.

The Diamonds’ version of Maurice Williams’ “Little Darlin'” was intended to be a withering put-down of all that was stupid (in the Diamonds’ opinion, at least) about 1950s doo wop. Somehow, they wound up making a record that was better than the original, and turned out to be a perfect example of the very music the Diamonds loathed. This seems like both perfect karmic justice, and a boon for doo wop fans like me.

Hmmm. I may be in a minority here, but this Glaswegian can’t stand Connolly, recently for the reasons enumerated by Erithian, plus added foibles (eg abandonment of inconvenient first wife) tabled by Marcello when we were discussing The Streak

As far as I’m concerned ever since Parkinson he’s laughed at Glaswegians, not with us.

The part of Partick he comes from was hardly Apache country, and it seems to me he exaggerates his plebian antecedents in a Meacheresque way. Am I the only person to detect that the wee Kelvinside nuance in his eccent isn’t altogether a later effectation? Gerry Rafferty, however, was the real deal unlike class, city, and national traitor BC, who comes back to Scotland to play the laird at his Candacraig House on the Aberdeenshire estate he bought from Anita Roddick, and to turn up on Desert Island Discs so he can trash the memory of a deceased teacher who declined to be blown away by his classroom clowning.

He undoubtedly had real talent for observation (I am smiling thinking about the riff about the footwarmer advertised in a certain sort of Sunday supplement). Not sure why the BBC seems so in thrall to him.

As parodies go this is passable – for good ones check out The Capitol Steps.

And The Scotia Bar is great!

This isn’t BC’s finest moment but it’s not his worst either. He gets away with this, I think, through the register of the performance; the laughs as he sings, which suggest he’s amused by the moment, which bats away any suggestion that this is meant to LAST.

It’s just a parody, sure, and ‘Two Little Boys’ from the first Secret Policeman’s Ball is just a parody, but that latter recording lasts and survives because he knows exactly what he’s doing and when we’ve lived into a happier age where police brutality is an historical curio, we’ll still be able to enjoy someone whose splinter-sharp timing can turn lead into gold. D.I.V.O.R.C.E. isn’t alchemical but it’s what it is and is carefully maintained as nothing more.

FWIW, I think Billy Connolly is one of the handful of GREAT comedians to emerge in my lifetime. We have seen lots of good comedians, but only a few great ones. The difference, I’d say, is that a good comedian shows you things about the world, a great comedian makes you see the world differently. You can emerge from a Billy Connolly gig (or an Eddie Izzard gig, or …) and look at any aspect of the world and think ‘I know what Billy Connolly would say about THAT’. In that way, comedians like him are akin to real artists in their capacity for real transformation, for making the familiar unfamiliar. This requires more than three minutes, obviously, so just as someone who’d only encountered three minutes of Shakespeare, three pages of Dickens, or three stanzas of Paradise Lost, would be unable to appreciate the real deranging challenge offered by those works, we won’t judge Billy Connolly on this song, which would have made more sense within the shape and flow of a whole performance.

It’s intriguing that Tammy made such an impact this year that she was a candidate for satirical deflation. Is this something specific to how she was marketed? Is it something about the perceived audience? Or is this just the standard-issue belief that country music is inherently ludicrous?

Some parodies endure for me. Half Man Half Biscuit have parodied song styles enduringly and, at the risk of enraging the Spoiler Bunny and the p^nk s lord, there’s a rather enjoyable polka version of the upcoming #1 that to me is – by now – more freshly listenable than the original.

And, sorry, I love the Rutles…

No need to be sorry about loving the Rutles, Dan; thankfully the dreaded G**lty Pl**s*r*s virus hasn’t infected these portals (yet)! Also Neil Innes is an all round top bloke and I’m just sorry that he had to play Brian Wilson to Eric Idle’s Mike Love.

Chris, #23:
That’ll have been Solo Concert, since it includes the almost equally legendary “Jobbie Weecha” routine (BC’s ruminations on the curious circularity of the food chain are not for the squeamish) as well as a fine Little Jimmy Osmond parody in “Short Haired Police Cadet From Maryhill.”

Caledonianne, #22:
Thoroughly concur that Rafferty’s the real deal and it’s a real shame we won’t be “doing” him on Popular except presumably mentioning him in despatches. Also totally take your points about BC on board but I still think he’s a brilliant comedic improvisor and technician if you try to forget about all the golfing with Tarby, Windsor mansions, Lotto adverts etc., as hard as it admittedly is to do so.

Billy, #21:
YES! “Wild Thing” with Tim Brooke-Taylor as Reg Presley and Chris Spedding, Ray Warleigh et al going berserk behind him.

Rosie, #19:
Possibly “My Old Man’s A Dustman” also counts in this category, except I’ve never quite been able to work out whether the audience on that record was real or overdubbed.

(N.B.: chart progress of “D.I.V.O.R.C.E.” was 25-9-2-1, so it was a fairly quick ascent)

sinkah, #16:
you are fule of fules and are hereby sentenced to twelve consecutive compulsory listens to Rudiger Carl’s 40 Golden Greats compilation on FMP, as never advertised on TV.

I’ve only been to Glasgow once, for the Screen conference two years ago. As chance would have it, I ended up walking down Sauchiehall Street during the England-Portugal World Cup quarter final, not very inconspicuous in my white suit, listening to ferocious yells from every pub that I passed, trying not to look English.

Obviously a fantastic place, though.

Byers Road I think you meant there Mike – which used to be the Hillhead (i.e. student) branch of much-missed indie chain Listen Records.

The original Fopp was a stall in the Savoy Market in Sauchiehall Street and I know because I used to help out there/help myself to their stock whenever I was up for Easter, etc.

Thanks for the “Dustman” confirmation.

Rutles were pastiches sculpted out of love innit.

Great Stannage moment – he played a request, David Bowie’s “Time”, and faded it out AFTER the line “he flexes like a whore, falls wanking to the floor”, with the comment “I’ll fade it out there, that’s all you were waiting for anyway”. This was around 3 on a Sunday afternoon!

just got it from wikipedia. he always was a gobby old so and so…

22 Caledonianne – I’m also a Glaswegian who can’t stand Connolly. I hate the way we are almost compelled to worship him, and even more that much of that compulsion seems to come from the man himself.

His recent Kelvinside affectation, in my view, is a more recent phenomenon, a caricature of the type of forced accent you would expect from someone who was at pains to distance themselves from more humble beginnings. NOBODY in Glasgow speaks like Connolly does now.

Some of his material was very funny, and as parodies go, this was fine – obvious material for a Glasgow comic, but I still don’t quite get WHY it was so successful. Yes, there was the mini-folk boom going on at the time, and at least it was better than his later hit parodies which I won’t mention by name for spoiler bunny reasons, although thankfully neither of them made #1 themselves.

Tom,

As both his other parodies were of No1s which have not yet been covered, I thought it best not to go into them. I’m sure they will be mentioned when we come to the No1s themselves!

Supergran wasn’t a parody – it was the theme tune to a tv programme (which may have been a parody itself I suppose)

DJ Punctum, sorry if you thought I was dissing you (is that what you young folk say?) I just wanted to let folk know I wasn’t referring to that one. I almost fell into a spoiler bunny trap on another thread and just want to make sure I don’t do it again here!

As a comedy record this works, that is its pretty funny(IMO obv). The fact that its such a catchy tune helps improve its relistenability too.

I had an English teacher(i.e she was a Scottish person who taught Eng Lit) at Secondary School in Edinburgh in the 80s who amazed us all by stating she didnt find BC funny. She said she didnt like the way he derived his humour from mocking the Scots and playing up our national stereotypes for English and overseas audiences. At the time i couldn’t grasp what she was on about but now i sort of can. I certainly feel that he is undoubtably at his best when performing in front of a Scottish audience when he is at his most undiluted and relaxed and there is never any doubt he is laughing WITH us not AT us. For proof contrast the brilliant “World Tour of Scotland” w/ the exceedingly lukewarm “World Tour of England Ireland and Wales”. That said his performance in ITV’s “An Audience With..” from the mid-80s is amazing, the comedy equivelant of Hendrix at Woodstock!(or something)

Re: the whole Connolly as Coltrance analogy- I always got the impression those tangents and wanderings he went on during his storytelling routines were nearly all highly scripted and pre-prepared (except when he was bouncing off some commment an audience member had made obv)and not improvised at all! Can anyone prove it one or another and settle the argument?

I need to keep reminding myself that you are talking about John Coltrane, rather than Robbie Coltrane.

I am also in the bunch of people who has never really found Connelly all that funny, he reminds me a touch of Robin Williams in a trying too hard sometimes way (coupled with a bullying attitude towards his observational stuff which often was ‘Just him’). But I can see how he was a watershed performer in the UK, perhaps the Jolson of comedy more.

TOTP Watch: Perhaps surprisingly, Connolly turned up in the studio to mime this twice. Neither performance survives.

The 6th of November 1975 sounds like an interesting show: Also in the studio were Jigsaw, Hot Chocolate, Jim Capaldi, 14-18, Gary Glitter, The Rubettes and Pan’s People (interpreting ‘Imagine’!). The host was Jimmy Saville.

I’ve always wondered who on earth 14-18 were. As performed in ‘Oh What A Lovely War’, ‘Good-bye-ee’ is one of my favorite songs. They can’t actually have been a band of first world war veterans, surely?

And Pete “Not The Buzzcock, The Love Me Love My Dog One” Shelley.

I remember that particular TOTP performance vividly and was convinced it would be a number one but it fell considerably short of that peak. Of course, Waterman would more than make up for that later.