In the summer of 1986 Nelson Mandela was still locked away for daring to oppose the Apartheid regime of South Africa's National party. Bishop Desmond Tutu was advocating peaceful resistance, and helping us to understand how bad conditions for black South Africans actually were. At the same time, sportsmen and statesmen demonstrated their solidarity for the oppressed through all kinds of sanctions and penalties against the racist government.
In this most troubling of times, Rob Grant and Doug Naylor who would later become the creators of Red Dwarf wrote a parody of Black Lace called The Chicken Song it was performed to popular acclaim on a TV show called Spitting Image, and subsequently released as a single.
The chicken song spent 3 weeks at number one; and consequently most people who are in their mid twenties today remember the Chicken song. Hardly anybody remembers what was on the B-Side. That is the subject of this writeup.
On the B-Side, a musician and comedian called Peter Brewis (who had previously worked with the Bonzo Dog Band and Eric Idle) had been asked to contribute something slightly more satirical; this was in keeping with the Spitting Image TV series, who's sketches were loosely based on current affairs.
Peter came up with this most offensive of tunes. I remember thinking that this hurried attempt at political satire seemed embarrassing at the time (and I was only fourteen). I have since heard that this is one of the few tunes blacklisted by every UK radio station - to even dare to play it would incur the wrath of the Radio Authority.
I've Never Met A Nice South African
I've travelled this whole world of ours from Barnsley to Peru,
I've had sunstroke in the Arctic and a swim in Timbuktu,
I've seen unicorns in Burma and a Yeti in Nepal,
And I've danced with ten-foot pygmies in a Montezuma hall,
I've met the King of China,
And the working Yorkshire miner,
But I've never met a nice South African.
(Chorus, sung in a coarse, mock South-African accent)
No, he's never met a nice South African,
And that's not bloody surprising, man,
'Cos we're a bunch of arrogant bastards,
Who hate black people.
I once got served in Woolies after less than four weeks' wait,
I had lunch with Rowan Atkinson when he paid and wasn't late,
I know a public swimming bath where they don't piss in the pool,
I know a guy who got a job straight after leaving school,
I've met a normal merman,
And a fairly modest German,
But I've never met a nice South African.
No, he's never met a nice South African,
And that's not bloody surprising, man,
'Cos we're a bunch of talentless murderers,
Who smell like baboons.
I've had a close encounter of the twenty-second kind,
That's when an alien spaceship disappears up your behind,
I've got Directory Enquiries after less than forty rings,
I've even heard a decent song by Paul McCartney's Wings,
I've seen a flying pig
In a quite convincing wig,
But I've never met a nice South African.
No, he's never met a nice South African,
And that's not bloody surprising, man,
'Cos we're a bunch of ignorant loudmouths,
With no sense of humour (hah-hah-hah).
I've met the Loch Ness Monster and he looks like Fred Astaire,
At the BBC in London he's the chief commissionaire,
I know a place in Glasgow which is bright with daffodillies,
I met a man in Katmandu who claimed to have two willies,
I've had a nice Pot Noodle,
But I've never had a poodle,
And I've never met a nice South African.
No, he's never met a nice South African,
And that's not bloody surprising, man,
Because we've never met one either,
Except for Breyten Breytenbach,
And he's emigrated to Paris.
Yes, he's quite a nice South African,
And he's hardly ever killed anyone,
And he's not smelly at all,
That's why they put him in prison.