Andy, Are You Goofing On Elvis?

"Uh-huh-huh, I'm all shook up." No, I'm not. Me, definitely not. But many are. Take Mulligans in Puerto Pollensa. Three nights a week, Elvis live. One hell of an achievement after 31 years of being un-live. It must be all those heartbreak hotels with less than full occupancy. Call for Elvis, Robbie, Rod, Freddie, Abba, The Beatles. There are whole armies of Elvises. Or maybe armies is not the right collective noun; perhaps a Saturday-at-the-Lord's-test of Elvises or an in-ghetto of Elvises. Who knows. However the Elvises are collectivised, they have taken over. The pharmacies and Burger Kings are the graced lands of their plentifulness. So many bars, so many lonesome tonight. So many bars hoping Elvises will make them less lonesome tonight.

The bars are seeking solace in tribute acts to keep the tills rolling. All this retro, but amongst it nothing that even resembles summertime. 'Twas ever thus. The tribute act is the contemporary local manifestation of the Winter Gardens and pier shows. Tribute acts work well only insofar as they are recognisable and have a large body of work to draw upon which is also recognisable. You don't get too many Edison Lighthouse tributes for the simple reason that they only had one hit and are utterly unmemorable. The Elvis tribute is a kind of group bonding session. Anyone and everyone can do an Elvis because, like the Elvises themselves, they can impersonate someone impersonating Elvis. The Elvises may be little more than parodic stars in their eyes effectively goofing on Elvis, but chalk an Elvis appearance on the terrace board and in comes an audience of wannabes or really reckontheycouldbes. Familiarity breeds conceit; "I can do that - uh-huh-huh, I'm all shook up". The power of the tribute act stems from the security of mob karaoke.

But amongst the tributes there is no sense of summer. They fit with recognition but are misfits of the spirit of summer. There is only one act, that is not to be found, which would make for an appropriate summer tribute. Where are The Beach Boys? A whole body of work that even after the transformation of "Pet Sounds" continued to embody beach and sun, as typified by later stuff such as "Do It Again" and even the elegiac "Surf's Up". Perhaps those close harmonies are beyond the balladeering mechanicalness of Westlifes.

Am I goofing on Elvis? Nope. I'm surfing safari. Wouldn't it be nice? But if not a summer feel, then how about those of today's title? Tribute act. Imitation of life.


BULLFIGHT
There is a bullfight this afternoon starting at 18:00 in Alcúdia, a special one apparently, featuring one Juan Duque. No, I've never heard of him either. Depending where one sits, it costs up to 50 euros. I can't go, but I would like to as I mentioned some while ago in a piece about the bullfight. I've known about this event for some while. I thought long and hard about listing it on the WHAT'S ON BLOG but decided against doing so. Why? Perhaps I didn't wish to offend any sensibilities. If this was the case, it was a bad case of censorship. It was a mistake. People should have the option to go or not to go, whatever they may think of bullfighting. In future I shall be less sensitive.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - "Love Don't Live Here Anymore", Rose Royce (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imKKClp8FTk). Today's title - something lunar.

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