Bananarama Relight Their Fire In France

I didn't see this one coming. I won't bog this blog down with small journalistic expectations such as research, so I have no idea what this is for, but as the camera pans around to an audience of menopausal MILFs clapping and flapping their wings like they think they can fly, the collective draft of bingo wings must have been Hurricane Bananarama. Performing their minor 80s smash Venus, there's so much to love about this, but most of all these woman are just legends. I've had my blog spammed, in the past, by rubbish gays getting upset at my equally iconic reviews for these ladies, but when you've personally told Karen that her baps were falling out to her face, and near enough got a high five from her for your troubles, I think that secures my unequivocal fandom for life - cheap jokes just make the makeshift comebacks and remix stopgaps just that bit more fun is all. Enjoy the clip!

Bananarama - Christ It's Christmas

Reminding me of Saint Etienne, possibly because they sound like they are furtively sipping wine from a straw in between singing, Bananarama's deadpan disco single Baby It's Christmas is just as excitably ropey as all their post-Preacherman dance fluff, continuing to huff and puff half-hearted cliches whilst propped up by half a bottle of poppers and debatable backing track.

Tag Team MILFs Volume 4: Banana's Are Back Again

Bananaraman literally don't know when to stop. One of the better tracks from last year's robotic Viva album, Love Don't Live Here is set for a belated release on 12 April, a whole 7 months after the vaguely camp Love Comes came and went. Airbrushed to look like used sex toys in a Burlesque shop for cougars, the cover art depicts 4 shots which might ignite a bit of excitement if, like me, seeing only 2 members in this group has bored the tits off you for the last decade or two. They stand even less chance than Agnes, despite a 2010 remix of their breathless Every Shade of Blue being the B-side - what a must have!

Tag-Team MILFs Volume 3 - Bananarama Have Their Knockers

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Tag Team MILF 'Drama' Volume 2

Sometimes when you are bloated you just need to keep squeezing until you get the end result you are after: Bananarama have similar 'back exit' stamina with their ever-enduring brand of breathless Hi-NRG substance abuse. Their baffling gimmick has survived 20 years now without original member Siobhan Fahey, and for many this period is one of 'wilderness' begging the question 'where are those fierce bitches now?' In 2005 they re-surfaced with their most emphatically charged attempt to launch themselves into the lives of gay men of all ages and the girls-with-no-friends who love them. Move In My Direction was rather inept and limp - in the video the girls turned to prostitution in order to generate interest in the still-born first single which was like a blow-up doll, over-inflated and lifeless. From the same album Drama (cos they are down with the Gays innit), Look On The Floor (Hypnotic Tango) has verses vocodered by producers Mute 8 to give them the sought-after septic flair of a 2003 Dannii Minogue B-side. Look To The Floor is given extra lubrication on the Solasso remix - it's a blistering tribute to every amazing remix from the summer of 1997. Their vocals are warm and foggy - the orchestral trance is mezmerizing and the sinewy bassline properly dives into dancefloor Dannii-esque sleaze. 'I can't slow down' is their poker-face responce to anyone who dares criticize their dancefloor blow-job technique - these girls take a chance wherever they can get it, and on this track I can't ever imagine leaving the dancefloor again no matter what these MILFs do to me in the process.

Look On The Floor (Hypnotic Tango) - Slasso Remix

Double The Damage: Tag Team MILFs Volume 1

Bananarama's PWL commerical peak may have reached a panting climax in the late 80s with the breathless Love Truth & Honesty, but these MILF's continued to plod away at their ruthless game with admirable restricted releases such as their France-only 2001 album Exotica, which sounds like a brand of condoms from the late 90s. Their sex-hungry sound is basic, yet thick, ribbed and heavily lubricated with a dated sheen that could pass for their hey day sound: the pre-'chav' Starz is fey and tritely whimsical, but the emphatic thud of the beguiling and murky If is one of their best ever singles. Sarah and Karen stay ahead of the game and want seconds straight away: 'come on come on encore, I'm waiting for you' is something they regularly scream from their moving car through Essex with their windows rolled down - it's became something of a tourist attraction, with the girls known for favouring guys who are prepared to buy them kebabs.

Their enchanting 'vocals' are thinner than Jamie Lynne's condoms, yet still manage to sound completely immersed in the sheer adrenaline of being care-less pop stars; their shared mouthed sounds (no solo's whatsoever) slur together like two shots of vodka doing double the damage. They mark their terriotory well with verses mumbled into their cleavages, bringing back fond memories of when I started a hollering campaign of gays shouting 'your tits are hanging out'at Karen when they performed at 2005's Big Gay Out in London.

Finishing them off, the carefully thought over conclusion 'ain't no big deal, just do as you feel, no big deal' is the salty aftertaste bringing the track to a hectic end. These women do not care and long may they pant breathlessly with no discernable vocal range, just so long as there is a cheap ass disco beat propping them up - bras that fit come and go, but classic pop trash lives forever.