Thursday 5 June 2014

Guilty Pleasures (Part 1)

GUILTY PLEASURES (Part 1)

New York, London, Paris, Milan, Exmouth. Spot the odd one out?

Exmouth might not be deemed the most chic of places and it may not be the cultural centre of the universe but it has a certain charm and is not without its guilty pleasures. In fact, if we're talking guilty pleasures then Exmouth is a veritable den of vice whose sins cannot be so easily absolved with a few Hail Marys and a how's-your-father. For many even, it's a seaside Bacchanalian nexus of decadence, debauchery and Dionysian excess. A princely pleasure dome of rich delights that if visiting only for a holiday can still leave the skin sparkling and cause the eyes to shine.

I don't pretend to talk on behalf of everyone in Exmouth but I'd say that down here people know what they like and they like what they know. We are a free people; ungovernable and ruled by none. There are no bosses for us. We have our cider and our guns and our discussions of Wittgenstein down the pub and we drink what we want, we smoke what we want, we think what we want and we do what we want.

"Guilty feet have got no rhythm" as the great prophet George Michael once upon a time sang but he was wrong. Here in Exmouth when it comes to our pleasures we have more guilt than most but we can skip the light fandango and turn cartwheels in the snow as well as the next man and it's precisely for this reason why Exmouth is the natural home for The Neil Diamond Story.

Neil Diamond - the undisputed king of guilty pleasures, the number one smooth operator with a voice as deep as a mine shaft and as smooth as chocolate. Whether dressed in a red jumpsuit spangled with sequins or faded denim and baseball cap; always the epitome of sartorial grace and style. Composer of world famous hits such as Sweet Caroline, Forever In Blue Jeans, and I Am I Said. Combiner of gravitas and kitsch, all round entertainer and melancholic balladeer. Living legend, rock'n'roll icon, trail-blazing pop god.
And he's coming to Exmouth. Or possibly even better than the real thing, tribute act Bob Drury is coming with his homage to the great man himself. This is guilty pleasures personified and multiplied to the max. This is heaven on earth.

Get your tickets now and get there early, starfuckers, as this is going to be rammed.

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