It was a surprise to hear that one of my favourite television shows had suddenly been axed last week, and though something tells me that we haven’t heard the last from you, I wanted to send you a fond farewell, just incase.
Thank you Buzzcocks for showcasing new talent from the worlds of comedy and music, to name just two, and for supporting artistic intuition in the young, the old, and everyone in between. Thanks for stressing the importance of music in our society over the last eighteen years, and for recognising the relevance of all its forms, from the works of Adam Ant to One Direction, from Scissor Sisters to Dido. You demonstrated how music does, quite literally in this sense, bring people from all different cultures, backgrounds and lifestyles together under one roof, evident in the diverse array of panellists, line up guests and hosts over the years. And yes, thanks even for the hissy fits, the bitchy comments, the storm outs, the smashed mugs. They made for honest, if almost-guilty, entertainment and showed the true effects of throwing so many big personalities together.
Thanks for giving Noel Fielding a platform to show off his interesting sense of style, particularly the time he wore a dress with the clown from It pictured on it, where he was able to protest against Stacey Solomon’s accidental gender stereotyping. For the height difference between Tinchy Stryder and Greg Davies; for Richard Ayoade’s deadpan reading of the autocue; for Adam Buxton’s YouTube comments (or sutin). For Simon Amstell’s cushion; for Dragons Den’s Peter Jones’ pronunciation of ‘N-Dubz’ and for Paul Foot’s energetic interpretation of a traditional Ghanaian dance. And lest I forget that beautiful group rendition of Summer Nights.
From those with bold personalities like Paloma Faith and Russell Brand to the ones who shocked us with their wit and crudeness such as Ed Sheeran and Rita Ora. From James Acaster’s adaptation of the dance to Saturday Night to Lorraine Kelly’s exploding bra. From Amy Winehouse’s declaration that she’d rather have “cat AIDs” than work with Katie Melua to Tony Law’s vuvuzela and lederhosen. From Alice Cooper’s Elvis Presley anecdotes to Bernard Cribbins’ tips regarding how to kill Coldplay’s Chris Martin. From Hughes to Bailey to Fielding. From Lamarr to Amstell to Gilbert. For Phill Jupitus, who only missed one episode out of 262. And for Rhod Gilbert, who so excellently hosted the last series but is unfortunately prevented from continuing due to the show’s cancellation.
It is a regret of mine that I never managed to attend a recording, particularly as I was once invited but couldn’t make it. But I have seen the joys your show has brought to those I know who were lucky enough to see the show live, from those who returned home with a signed watermelon, to the comedians that I consider to be friends who have had helpful career boosts from featuring on the programme in recent years (and rightly so). I think a lot of us owe something to this show. It aided the countdown to Christmas each year and filled the hours, if nothing else. And there were many hours.
So thank you, Buzzcocks. We had fun. I hope to see you again soon.
From Becca (and the rest of us).