This week, it is the turn of an out and out legend. A woman with so much clout that I daren’t do anything but adore everything that she is about. Maybe the true People’s Princess. An icon of Liverpool and a Saturday night television staple, she ate it up whatever she turned her hand to. It’s only blood Cilla Black.
I know Cilla. We all know Cilla. My introduction to this icon would have been as part of the Triple Threat of Saturday night TV in the nineties – The Real Adventures of Superman, Gladiators and Blind Date. For a long time, I don’t think I knew she was a singer. I just knew I liked her hair (or hurrrr), her teeth and her accent. She always sparkled. Cilla must be a gay icon, right?
As I learnt more about music, I discovered that Cilla was fucking cool. She was there, man! She’s got stories for days and was all over the backbeat, northern soul, rock n roll establishment of Liverpool. If you want a pretty good insight, you can’t go far wrong with the ITV drama series, Cilla, starring Sheridan Smith. I apologise to true Cilla fans and scousers if this isn’t an appropriate recommendation. Or has been shunned by the true believers.
What really struck me about this week, is that Jadeth was right all along. My mate Jade loves Cilla, holds her up as a Titan of industry, the guiding light through any storm. The truth of the matter is that you can’t go wrong with that voice. There’s so much passion and soul in Anyone Who Had A Heart, Something Tells Me and You’re My World that there’s no escaping the sprig of tension in your vertebrae as you recognise you are being aurally treated by a god.
I do find myself discovering artists through this little project and wondering how I got through 35 years without recognising their power. Cilla is up there now. Gawd bless her, and those moves.