tamaranth | Life is a Cabaret ...

Fascinating Aida are to natural optimism what Ann Widdecombe is to ranmpant sex. And, for their farewell tour (details on website. Good heavens, until November?!) they have hired a member of the most disadvantaged group there is to tell you so.

Yes, a man.

I first encountered Fascinating Aida in 1984. I was living in Benfleet, and my landlady went to see them in Brixton with her sister; and came back raving about them, playing the tape, generally well impressed by their blend of post-feminist cabaret and witty social commentary, all delivered in true cabaret style by three women and a piano.

Who'd have thought that the first time I actually saw them would be their farewell tour, in Richmond Theatre (most recently the venue for Sean-Bean-as-Macbeth) with the same person -- e.g. former landlady's sister, my friend Maggy. And in the intervening let's-call-it-20 years, pretty much all of my adult life occurred. An uncomfortable sense of time telescoping.

Back in 1984 Fascinating Aida seemed the height of sophistication. (Remember, I was a young 18, and I lived in Essex). I was cheered by 'Sew on a Sequin', their anthem to positive thinking. Shocked and amused by the 'Herpes Tango'. Probably too young to understand half the jokes.

Seeing them live last night made me feel positively middle-aged. Their songs have always been topical; now they're singing about hot flushes, cardigans and missing one's chance at the relationship circus. Stoppit! Am young still, and am going to throw out every cardigan I own except that nice beaded one.

Back in the Eighties, as they reminded us, we were all frightened of nuclear war. (Brief reprise of 'Radiating Love', just to prove that you can write a witty lyric about almost anything). But the world today is more threatening than ever ("or is it just that we're getting old?" Errrr....) Cue a delightful song, with plenty of audience participation: "Suddenly New Zealand (Doesn't Seem so Boring)".

I would never have believed that anyone could persuade the stalls of the Richmond Theatre to pretend to be geysers*.

But they sang the old songs too (and if that makes you think of music hall, well, so did the wonderfully elaborate Richmond Theatre and the whole cabaret presentation -- exaggerated expressions, choreographed gestures and vaudeville body language -- of the three). "Sloane Rangers", "On the Piste" -- and, "still as fresh as a daisy, and we haven't changed a word", "Socialist Britain" (written at the height of Thatcherism).

Great fun, and those under forty should feel young, in comparison to the rest of the audience. Don't know where they get their energy, though!

*We were in the Upper Circle. We were hot mud.