Music Lyric Sheets: The Death of Screaming Lord Sutch

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The Independent Culture
Screaming Lord Sutch, who died last week, was chiefly remembered for his political antics. His contribution to British rock and roll as a live performer has been somewhat overlooked however

The love reserved for cheerful sods

Spawned in that limbo after war

Of seaside towns, arcades and

one-night stands.

The ghost parade of spotty stars

With Watkins Rapiers, Burns Guitars

Their hire-purchase drums and

gap-tooth smiles.

A world of lugging Selmer amps

And Hammond organs into vans

As pre-Profumo Britain rubbed

its eyes.

The early discs, all plundered riffs

Whacked down in pegboard studios

To acetate, pressed-up, released

and sunk.

But watch the pantomime begin

The coffin carried through the crowd

And see the startled front four rows

jump back.

In top-hat, cloak, outrageous hair

Sutch blunders out, leaps off the stage

You had to be there really

and fifteen.

To see his keyboard player got up

The wig skewwhiff and rouged-up cheeks

When Dave, as Jack The Ripper raised

the knife.

And brought it down, the awful scream

The swirl, the drums, the flashing lights

He did the same act every night

for years.

If Mayall schooled the stars in blues

It's Sutch who trained them up for stage

A one-trick pony but a brilliant trick.

You'd heard the news and vainly hoped:

"Another stunt?" But not this time.

Go gentle with that coffin boys.

Just once.

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