Posh toffs and banjos? King Charles III raving it up?? Looks like our wayward columnist has finally gone royally mad

Illustration: Fat Roland

There’s one thing about King Charles III that disappoints me. He hasn’t adopted The Prodigy’s 1991 rave hit ‘Charly’ as his theme song. Why, Charles, why? The old King Charleses from the 1600s couldn’t adopt a rave track because they were too busy maintaining ridiculous wigs. Charles Number Three has no excuse. He should be blasting out ‘Charly’ at every opportunity. The meowing cat frightening the horses at the changing of the guard. Throwing shapes at afternoon tea in Buckingham Palace. Chandeliers that make breakbeat noises. With a name like that, he should be king of the ravers.

I tried writing this bit about UK prime ministers, but ever since we lost our minds with the EU referendum, I’ve lost track of who’s occupying Downing Street. We’ve had 73 prime ministers in six years. Can you remember their names? No one can. There was the one that looked like a mop, the one that looked like a mop handle, and the one that was an actual real mop with googly eyes on. The government’s cabinet has been akin to a festival toilet cubicle. A never-ending entourage of bladder-crazed people get in and out as fast as they can, while promising never to talk about the brown devastation they leave behind. Appointed, sacked, promoted, cancelled, beatified, arrested, made into an NFT. Absolute chaos. It’s been not so much rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic as reshuffling idiots on a canoe.

Enough about politics. Kings and princesses and all the other people who wear crowns for a day job are never fans of modern dance music. The closest we’ve had is Francis Bourgeois, the TikTok trainspotter who comes across as a 15th cousin to a minor royal. Turns out he’s a massive Aphex Twin fan. But that’s as close as rave-dom gets to the seats of power. I can’t quite imagine Prince Louis getting into gabba.

And such power. If you’re a royal, you get to take over poor countries and eat their swans. Not my rule – that’s just how the Commonwealth works. Why are none of them into Snap!’s 1990 Number One single ‘The Power’? Remember that? Snap! had an exclamation mark at the end because all the other electronic music acts had used up the umlauts. In the video, a woman said “Woah-ooh” a lot while a scary president threatened the camera. Their members included Turbo B, who sounds like a car, and Penny Ford, who sounds like a car. Why are none of the royals into that? Why aren’t they constantly banging out Wamdue Project’s ‘King Of My Castle’ from their horse-drawn carriages? Not a single one of them has turned up drunk to my local karaoke night to slur out a tuneless ‘Everybody Wants To Rule The World’. Nothing. Nada.

No, these posh toffs only like prudish tunes with oompah and flags. The sort of music where it’s not illegal to pull out a tuba. This classical guff has titles like ‘Ding Dong Britannia’ and ‘Prince Willy’s Hornpipe’ and ‘Ode To My G-String’. Everyone dresses like penguins, and at the end, a ruddy man gets excited and wangs his cymbals together. Awful. And anyway, it’s all secretly played on banjos, just like Paul McCartney faked Area 53 on the moon. ‘Johannes Brahms’ is an anagram of ‘Men’s Harsh Banjo’. ‘Johann Sebastian Bach’ is an anagram of ‘Banjo Cannabis Sheath’. I think I’ve made my point.

Charles In Charge, if you’d like to come round my gaff to sing ‘Land Of Hope And Glory’ to the tune of ‘Block Rockin’ Beats’, just let me know. We’ll make a whistle-parping Haçienda ecstasy gurner out of you yet.

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