It’s a bit late, but it’s still the greatest music quiz in the world that’s been made in Nottingham by someone who usually does a podcast about old episodes of Top Of The Pops. It’s the usual bill of fare, Pop-Crazed Youngsters: 42 questions, 7 rounds, an old woman on an organ, and some shouting and swearing. Tuck in, why don’t you?
Oh yes – the music quiz that puts the TRAINERS to the ANUS is BACK. You know the drill: 42 questions, seven rounds, and an elderly woman throwing down on a Bontempi organ, put together and fired out by the host of the world’s greatest podcast about old episodes of Top Of The Pops. TUCK IN, POP-CRAZED YOUNGSTERS!
Oh yes; back again, and now rolling every week until all this bollocks is sorted out, comes the pub quiz that doesn’t need a pub. It’s the same format as before, Pop-Crazed Youngsters: an hour-long, seven-round, 42-questioned music quiz that you can cheat at if you like, as there aren’t any prizes. All we ask is that you do not spoiler any of the answers in the comments section, while you’re bragging about points you actually got. Have at it!
When Al isn’t doing Chart Music – the world’s greatest podcast about old episodes of Top Of The Pops – he’s in assorted Nottingham pubs barking questions at folk. He can’t do that at the moment, so he’s taking it out on the Pop-Crazed Youngsters in an hour-long, seven-round, 42-questioned music quiz that you can cheat at if you like, as there aren’t any prizes. First thing you need to do is download the answer sheet and pic round…
The latest episode of the podcast which asks: would you treat YOUR kids to a day out at Flick Colby’s Zoo?
We’re returning to one of our favourite years for music television discussion, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, but if you think it’s another Eighventies splurge, think on; that era is not only officially dead, but its corpse is being gleefully stepped upon by assorted Pineapple dance studio chaff. Peter Powell – when he’s not doing the Running Man – takes us through a chart which is coming out of hibernation after the Xmas truce, and what a battered selection box it turns out to be.
Musicwise, hmm: Zoo have their coming-out party, which involves a BDSM Cossack Human Centipede. Alton Edwards overdoes it with the Jheri Curl activator and fucks up his expensive jacket. There’s an appalling video of Foreigner in ‘action’. The pace picks up with Meat Loaf and Cher copping off with each other and the introduction of Romo Ralph Wiggum, but then The Mobiles forget to top themselves up. Shakatak. A bodybuilder with an eyepatch for pants makes an accidental Nazi salute at Peter Powell. Vangelis self-isolates with nine synths. The Number One Single reminds us how good things used to be. The Zoo Wankers desecrating Madness shows us how bad things are going to get.
Sarah Bee and Neil Kulkarni join Al Needham for an extensive tear-down of the first week of the Eighties Proper, veering off on such tangents as regional ITV, the humbling of Communism in Sneinton Market, mysterious greasy stains on bus windows, how 50% of Chart Music bonded over the Bummer’s Conga in Bristol in 1995, and why hiding cock photos under your housemate’s pillow isn’t the done thing. Probably even more swearing than usual.
The latest episode of the podcast which asks: Matchbox – big elderly Ted-racists, or just really keen on The Dukes Of Hazzard?
It’s a long-overdue return to the Pic n’ Mix counter of TOTP, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, and this time we’ve pulled out a plum from the early days of the new decade, which is now FORTY BASTARD YEARS AGO. Mike Read has been quarantined to the balcony, resplendent in a clankening of badges, and he is poised to drop an episode shot through with Eighventies goodness.
Musicwise, well: Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes mark time before going off to be Stunt Jon Anderson and Rick Wakeman. The Nolans drop the Staying Alive of Mum-Disco. Legs and Co have a bit of a float-around to the last knockings of Beardo Disco. Bob Geldof looks like Richard E Grant playing Rambo. Suzi Quatro has a whinge about her Walter the Softy-like boyfriend. David Van Day shoots John Lennon in the back a full eleven months before Mark Chapman gets the chance. The Specials con you into thinking every gig you’re going to go to when you grow up is going to be an incredible experience. Sheila and B Devotion (and more importantly, Chic) kick in the afterburners, and we get the First New Number One Of The Eighties.
Simon Price and Taylor Parkes join Al Needham for a comprehensive dismantling of early ’80, veering off on such tangents as Space Oppression, DAAANGERFREAKS, caravan warehouse-owning lions, The Great Jumpsuit Shortage, another examination of I’m Your Number One Fan, Nazi double basses, and Colleen Nolan’s unfortunate teenage crush. ALL THE SWEARING.
A sort-of-festive episode of the podcast which asks: Jesus, why do we always leave this to the last minute instead of doing it in August like everyone else?
It’s the arse-end of the year, and you know what that means, Pop-Crazed Youngsters: another ram of our hands into the Quality Street tin of a Xmas TOTP. This year, it’s 1977, which means that Noel Edmonds has taken one of his suits that all look the same out of the wardrobe – but this year he’s joined by Kid Jensen, in full Stylistics clobber. No trifle-related interplay this year, then, but it’s quadruple overtime for the Top Of The Pops Orchestra, who have stashed a dozen or so Party Sevens under their chairs to keep them going, and Team ATVland (combined age: 19) are sulking that they can’t hook their Binatone Pong to the telly, mornging that their Ricochet Racers isn’t much cop, and leafing through the 1978 Starsky and Hutch annual and dreaming of chocolate pancakes respectively.
There were some astonishing singles that came out in ’77, but musicwise, and bar a couple of exceptions, this is your Nana’s Top Of The Pops. Showaddywaddy pretend to have a futuristic buffet. Some kids are bussed into White City to wave a tassel on a stick (or just the stick). David Soul’s head floats in space. Johnny Mathis pops up again. You can hear Kenny Rogers’ arse as he lowers it onto a wicker bar stool. And oh God, it’s Manhattan Transfer. But here come Abba, Space, Denice Williams, Hot Chocolate, and the return of Floyd Flipper as a fruity Santa! Oh, and there’s Paul McCartney’s Living Shortbread Tin and Bing Crosby. It’s a massive, sixteen-song evisceration, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, done with the care and attention you’ve come to expect from the little elves of Chart Music.
Neil Kulkarni and Taylor Parkes join Al Needham for a long, hard stare at the winners circle of 1977, complete with such tangents as the Showaddywaddy Hanky Code, Lobbing It Out on Channel 4, assuming French is just English you don’t know yet, the gang war between Brighouse and Rastrick, Space Crumpet, when it’s time to finally let go of the Radio Times Xmas issue, and a chance to see someone from Chart Music looking like a massive potato on telly very soon. Merry Swearing!
The latest episode of the podcast which asks: why didn’t they let Simon Bates do Top Of The Pops USA, just for a laugh?
We’re out of the Critics’ Choice series, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, so it’s time to grasp the fly-encrusted and whiffy end of the Eighties Stick. It’s a Thursday evening one week before Xmas in 1987, and your panel are a) in a Soho pub, chucking their musical-journalistic weight about, b) trapped in a bingo hall in Nottingham being handled like a piece of meat by randy octogenarians, and c) sprawled out on a rug in Yorkshire, with a garter snake wrapped around their glasses, waiting to be dazzled by the life-affirming beauty of Pop. Two of these people made the right choice that night.
Musicwise, this is a heavily adulterated, gelled-up, suity, unwiped arse of an episode, with only a couple of standouts. Mike Read and Gary Davies pretend to be mates. Wet Wet Wet attempt to do True and fail. Mel Smith’s attempt to encourage kids to hide in fridges is denied by the BBC. Mick Hucknall – leader of the Kennyist band in Pop – reminds us he can sing a bit. Nat King Cole cock-blocks Rick Astley. We finally get to see a bit of Top Of The Pops USA. And Kirsty and Shane and Neil and Chris ride in to save the day. None of these people are The Young Gods.
David Stubbs and Sarah Bee join Al Needham for a rummage through the Quality Street tin of Xmas 1987, and – as always – the detours and tangents are manifold, including what it was like to work at Melody Maker in the Laties, how to buy a shark in Yorkshire, the lack of a decent wine cellar at Dingwalls, the pointlessness of CD Walkmans, the annual F-word debate, how Marti Pellow ruined Stars In Their Eyes, and an open apology to the Pogues for a 33 year-old LP review. Now available in Fun-sized portions, and full of rich, chunky swearing.
The latest episode of the podcast which asks: who would win in a stage-show spaceship fight between Earth Wind and Fire, ELO and Funkadelic?
It’s the final furlong of the Critics’ Choice series, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, and Our Simon has dragged us back to the dawn of the Eighventies and pulled out a ridiculously bountiful episode with so much to talk about, making this our BIGGEST EPISODE EVER. It’s the middle of the Summer Holiday Of Our Extreme Content, your panel have spent their downtime crying tears of laughter at the sight of nudists in supermarkets on telly, avoiding the Punk House, and having a break from the draconian private school system respectively, but are all clustered around the telly to see what Peter Powell has up his sleeve this Thursday eve, only to discover that he’s not wearing any.
But so what? Because musicwise, this could well be the greatest episode of TOTP we’ve come across so far, and a solid case for ’79 being even better than ’81. The Dooleys are gotten out of the way early doors. Sham 69 have their end-of-term party. Olympic Runners get mithered by Some Bird. The weediest-looking lead singer in Pop history sings with his teeth. There’s an actual naked woman playing a cello in a massive pram. Abba slap it about in a disco. Ron Mael stares at us. Legs & Co have a sultry mornge on some sand. And we see the debut performances of The Specials and BA Cunterson.
Simon Price and Neil Kulkarni join Al Needham as they just switch off their television set and go and do something less boring instead, veering off on such tangents as pulling your trackie bottoms up around your neck and running at girls, integrity-free reviewing jobs, your chance to have your achievements in the Welsh music scene recognised at last, wearing the wrong-coloured laces in your Docs, having a wazz on a Pop star’s back door, and Exciting News For All Listeners. Swearing!
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The latest episode of the podcast which asks: is Simon Bates negging or cock-blocking?
Into the penultimate stretch of the Critics’ Choice series, Pop-Crazed Youngsters, and Our Sarah has taken us all the way back to the time when her keen Pop sensibilities were hauling itself upright from the ooze. And she. Has. Chosen. Well.
We’re weeks away from Band Aid and the Eighties are already starting to ming of unwashed cock, but this episode – presented LIVE IN THE STUDIO by Geoffrey and Pigwanker General – is nowhere near as horrific as it could have been, even though there’s some right catshit strewn about. Limahl has the last laugh, and is never heard of again. Status Quo are taken to the tip by the Council. Billy Ocean and Eugene Wilde give us a remake of Billie Jean and Sexual Shakin’. Gary Numan’s weave makes its TOTP debut. But we get to see Depeche Mode’s career turn on a sixpence while they bang on some hunks of concrete, and we get the best Number One of the year that doesn’t involve Frankie.
Sarah Bee and Taylor Parkes join Al Needham for a critical piss that streams out the bottom of the trouser leg of 1984, veering off on such tangents as the uselessness of Godzooky, Eighties Video Cliche Watch, Numanoid laundry problems, Gary Davies Sex Music, BanterGod, and Heads-Down, No-Nonsense Masturbation. Oh, the swearing!