Thursday, September 23, 2004
Have We Got News For You
Reporting on musicians deaths is always an odd business. There's always a tendency to revere them as geniuses for little other reason than they've knocked out a couple of half decent tunes while being very careful not to mention the lack-lustre third album and that offensive thing they said in an interview a few years ago. It's with that in mind that we inform you of the death of Izora Rhodes Armstead one half of the Weather Girls, who passed away on September 16th.
Only an idiot would claim that the Weather Girls will have a lasting influence on the world of music, and even we're not quite that stupid, but their one hit, It's Raining Men, will no doubt live on for a long time yet in gay nightclubs and cheese nights all over the country. We were always somewhat dubious about the lyrical content of the song as, while the thought of each and every woman finding the perfect guy may sound quite positive, the fact they're dropping from out of the sky at cloud level means that they're going to be somewhat dead and the streets are going to be in one hell of a mess. Their later claim (ignoring the blatant innuendo), that they're going to go out and get themselves absolutely soaking wet, is slightly more believable; if only because, assuming you don't get knocked unconscious by 13 stone of bloke suddenly landing on your head, the amount of blood splashing around as people smash into pavements at a rate of knots is likely to leave you somewhat damp. See also the spittle falling from the sky as a result of millions of men screaming "OHMYFUCKINGGODI'MGOINGTODIEHOWTHEHELLDIDIGETUPHEREAAAAAAAAARGH".
So, farewell then, Miss Armstead. Should it rain today we will go out and get ourselves soaking wet in memoriam. If it doesn't, we'll just have a few pies and a cake instead.
Only an idiot would claim that the Weather Girls will have a lasting influence on the world of music, and even we're not quite that stupid, but their one hit, It's Raining Men, will no doubt live on for a long time yet in gay nightclubs and cheese nights all over the country. We were always somewhat dubious about the lyrical content of the song as, while the thought of each and every woman finding the perfect guy may sound quite positive, the fact they're dropping from out of the sky at cloud level means that they're going to be somewhat dead and the streets are going to be in one hell of a mess. Their later claim (ignoring the blatant innuendo), that they're going to go out and get themselves absolutely soaking wet, is slightly more believable; if only because, assuming you don't get knocked unconscious by 13 stone of bloke suddenly landing on your head, the amount of blood splashing around as people smash into pavements at a rate of knots is likely to leave you somewhat damp. See also the spittle falling from the sky as a result of millions of men screaming "OHMYFUCKINGGODI'MGOINGTODIEHOWTHEHELLDIDIGETUPHEREAAAAAAAAARGH".
So, farewell then, Miss Armstead. Should it rain today we will go out and get ourselves soaking wet in memoriam. If it doesn't, we'll just have a few pies and a cake instead.
