After Fiddy declared his love for all things Walford, Mark Beaumont argues that only a certain kind of musician can make the leap from stage to soap
It’d have to be the last episode of EastEnders ever. Picture the scene: a bunting-blitzed Albert Square street party celebrating Queen Camilla’s 50th year on the throne. Then, just as Kat and Alfie announce their 27th wedding – SCREEEECH! A blacked-out Humvee squeals into the square, the window rolls down and ACKACKACKACK!
Round upon round of broiling hot gat-fire is unleashed, a revenge drive-by in the increasingly hostile Walford-Dagenham turf war. Heads explode, limbs go flying. Out of the carnage a single figure survives. 50 Cent, brushing himself down, picking a bullet or two from the holes in his chest and walking away chuckling. DOOF! DOOF! Doofdoofdoof-dubaduba…
Hey, pop stars, leave our soaps alone! Full marks to the BBC for quashing rumours that Fiddy was set to appear in ’Enders having been turned on to the show by Rio Ferdinand – proof, there, that even at the highest echelons of celebrity culture conversation still revolves largely around what people watched on telly last night.
Because pop star cameos utterly tear apart the already flimsy plausibility of this most fragile of art forms; yes, we might just about swallow all the murders, incest, arson attacks and dirty bombs, but no-one batting an eyelid when Robbie Williams pops into the Queen Vic for a swift half or when Cliff Richard takes a stroll down Coronation Street?
Pffft, as if. I mean, in reality, Robbie would’ve been bustled to a VIP area of the Vic by a swarm of minders beating the crap out of anyone trying to get a picture.
No, only three pop stars should ever be considered for soap cameos. David Bowie, in his most wooden Goblin King persona, would still be the most convincing and realistic thing in Hollyoaks. A soap would be the perfect place for Lady Gaga to reveal that she’s really a man without anyone giving much of a shit (although there might be a kerfuffle in wardrobe when she insists on playing a Weatherfield mechanic in overalls made from the eyes of dead babies).
And we all want to see the episode of EastEnders which consists of the cast sitting around the pub checking their watches and whistling for 29 minutes and 55 seconds before Axl Rose wanders in, opens his mouth for his first line and – DOOF! DOOF! Doofdoofdoof-dubaduba. At which point he’d take the credits drummer hostage at gunpoint and stage a sit-in in the background of Holby City until they let him complete his performance.
This article originally appeared in the September 25 issue of NME