Freddie Valentine remembers a friend, and a truly unique British comic talent...

This week a man called Chris Sievey tragically passed away at the age of 54. Although this name may not mean much to you, when I tell you that Chris Sievey was the man behind Papier-mâché legend Frank Sidebottom, then you will understand what a loss this man is to the nation’s funny bones.

As anyone who had the fortune to see a Frank Sidebottom live performance can attest, the man evoked such a sense of carefree pleasure that you couldn’t help but be swept up into Frank’s crazy world where Papier-mâché heads were the norm and songs by Queen and Kylie Minogue mangled on a ukulele and sung in a nasally Northern twang was the only kind of music that mattered.

My association with Frank/Chris goes way back to the early 1980’s when Chris Sievey, frontman of Mancunian punk-pop band The Freshies released a single called “Camaouflage” which featured something unusual on it’s b-side. An early version of the music video in the form of a Sinclair ZX81 program which you loaded up and pressed the enter button as soon as you started playing the single. At the time it was a revolutionary idea. I bought the single and couldn’t get the damn program to load. Out of frustration, I wrote to the address on the back of the single sleeve, thinking this unique idea had failed to live out its promise.

A week later a package arrived in the post. Inside was a letter from Chris with a cassette of the program (which worked fine), a few of his LP’s and a batch of 7” singles including a white label version of the Freshies minor hit, “I’m In Love With The Girl On The Virgin Megastore Checkout Desk”. Chris asked me to write back and let him know if the program worked ok.

I was astonished by his generosity, and impressed by his music and this act of kindness started a long communication between us. He told me about this new character he was working on and sent me a cassette of his ZX Spectrum game “The Biz”, which was kind of like a football manager game but set in the music industry. The b-side of the cassette has some of his singles and an interview with him by a nasally-voiced and hilarious man called Frank Sidebottom.

Frank eclipsed his creator and became a national institution, playing at festivals and universities around the country and on television. (Mainly in the North, which was a shame for us southerners).

Finally getting to see Frank in the late 80’s was a revelation and everything I expected to be. Pure joy and something that left you smiling for a week afterwards.

"He was a born entertainer and had the audience eating out of his hand"

In the 1990’s I was putting together a cabaret show at a venue in Charing Cross Road. Top of my wish list for acts I would love to book was Frank. I called Chris and he got the train from Manchester, much to my delight.

Not only was he a great entertainer, Chris was a lovely and slightly eccentric man (as all wildly creative people tend to be). I recall sitting backstage, trying to help him to get his tiny keyboard to work, my trombone player running to a shop over the road to get him some batteries and finally, Frank singing Kylie’s “I Should Be So Lucky” in his inimitable style and the keyboard conking out. Frank looked at his miniature puppet chum, Little Frank, and berated him for the keyboard’s failure to work, threw they said instrument across the stage and carried on regardless. He was a born entertainer and had the audience eating out of his hand.

They were eating out of his hand, literally at the finale of the show, as he and I duetted on a version of The Candy Man (from Willy Wonka) whilst Frank handed sweets out to the audience members.

One of the greatest and most surreal moments of my life.

The world is a duller place without this unique, charming and downright hilarious man.

You know it is, it really is.

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