The Topp Twins
Academy of Music
Northampton, MA
June 12, 2010
If somebody told you they had an extra ticket to go to a concert headlined by lesbian twins from New Zealand who sing country western music, yodel, and put on skits, would you go? If it’s Lynda and Jools Topp you should, though you might want to see their award-winning documentary The Topp Twins, Untouchable Girls before the show.
The film’s “Untouchable Girls” subtitle references both their most popular song and their lives of activism, not just as gay rights crusaders, but as social justice advocates for causes ranging from the anti-nuclear movement and land preservation, to rights for New Zealand’s native Maori population. “Untouchable Girls” is a rarity in the Topp Twins repertoire—a chirpy feminist pop song instead of country music, and such a catchy one that it’s likely to embed itself in whatever part of the brain causes us to relentlessly hum a song at inappropriate moments.
Lynda and Jools Topp are enormously popular in New Zealand, so much so that when Lynda assumed the persona of one of her characters for a spoof run for Auckland mayor in 1998, she had to tell her many followers it was all a joke and ask them to vote for the progressive candidate that eventually won. You don’t get clout like that by making compromises, which is another reason to see the documentary before you catch a show—the Topps haven’t altered much of their show for non-New Zealand audiences, don’t offer much in the way of explanation for the characters they become, and they never apologize for any of it!
Their act will remind North Americans of the old Hee Haw show from the days when country music was corny and pure rather than the slick-but-often-soulless package we hear these days. Remember Minnie Pearl with her ruffled dress and straw hat with the price tag dangling from a string? Goofy as hell, but Minnie could sing. The Topps are like that. They took the piss out of country pretentiousness from the get-go as “Belle and Belle,” a duo dressed in silly cowgirl hats, blouses with tacky western stitching, short checked skirts, and boots that looked like a cross between the open range and majorette castoffs. In case you missed the lampoon of manufactured images, the plump Lynda continually and uncomfortably tugged at her skirt-band like a grade schooler who needs to use the loo.
If this sounds campy, they’ve got an answer for that too—their personae of Camp Mother and Camp Leader; their trash flash costumes poke gentle fun at what we might call the airstream trailer crowd. Or they’re Mavis and Lorna, who met at a crematorium the day their respective husbands were reduced to ashes, and now indulge their passions for lawn bowling and gardening. And then there’s their send-up of New Zealand’s bloke culture—Ken and Ken, one a sheep farmer and the other (in his mind) a city sophisticate. Mix in the penchant of Lynda to wander into the audience to interview audience members (or bring them to the stage for deliberately unprofessional skits) and their constant wisecracking, and the whole thing makes for a pretty whacked-out evening that lists heavily toward lowbrow entertainment.
But here’s the thing—it’s like hearing old Henny Youngman sketches in that you find yourself laughing despite the fact that it’s pretty dumb stuff (and the combination of fast talking and Kiwi accents means we lose about half of what they say.) There’s also timing—the ridiculousness is broken up by poignant moments—on-stage video projections sport not just the silly characters, but also pitches for the Topp’s causes. And, shucks, they ain’t bad as musicians either. Their music won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but they sing well, harmonize with power, and they’re terrific yodelers! Think a country music version of the English music hall…
The Topp Twins’ delightfully goofy show served as a testimonial for not taking one’s self too seriously. We can only hope that Evelyn Harris was watching. The former Sweet Honey in the Rock singer did a four-song warm-act set that included “My Darling Clementine.” The Topp Twins played stuff like this for laughs, but Harris was caught up in her own ego and acted like wanted to channel Lena Horne. She was so full of herself that we soon had our fill of her.
Academy of Music
Northampton, MA
June 12, 2010
If somebody told you they had an extra ticket to go to a concert headlined by lesbian twins from New Zealand who sing country western music, yodel, and put on skits, would you go? If it’s Lynda and Jools Topp you should, though you might want to see their award-winning documentary The Topp Twins, Untouchable Girls before the show.
The film’s “Untouchable Girls” subtitle references both their most popular song and their lives of activism, not just as gay rights crusaders, but as social justice advocates for causes ranging from the anti-nuclear movement and land preservation, to rights for New Zealand’s native Maori population. “Untouchable Girls” is a rarity in the Topp Twins repertoire—a chirpy feminist pop song instead of country music, and such a catchy one that it’s likely to embed itself in whatever part of the brain causes us to relentlessly hum a song at inappropriate moments.
Lynda and Jools Topp are enormously popular in New Zealand, so much so that when Lynda assumed the persona of one of her characters for a spoof run for Auckland mayor in 1998, she had to tell her many followers it was all a joke and ask them to vote for the progressive candidate that eventually won. You don’t get clout like that by making compromises, which is another reason to see the documentary before you catch a show—the Topps haven’t altered much of their show for non-New Zealand audiences, don’t offer much in the way of explanation for the characters they become, and they never apologize for any of it!
Their act will remind North Americans of the old Hee Haw show from the days when country music was corny and pure rather than the slick-but-often-soulless package we hear these days. Remember Minnie Pearl with her ruffled dress and straw hat with the price tag dangling from a string? Goofy as hell, but Minnie could sing. The Topps are like that. They took the piss out of country pretentiousness from the get-go as “Belle and Belle,” a duo dressed in silly cowgirl hats, blouses with tacky western stitching, short checked skirts, and boots that looked like a cross between the open range and majorette castoffs. In case you missed the lampoon of manufactured images, the plump Lynda continually and uncomfortably tugged at her skirt-band like a grade schooler who needs to use the loo.
If this sounds campy, they’ve got an answer for that too—their personae of Camp Mother and Camp Leader; their trash flash costumes poke gentle fun at what we might call the airstream trailer crowd. Or they’re Mavis and Lorna, who met at a crematorium the day their respective husbands were reduced to ashes, and now indulge their passions for lawn bowling and gardening. And then there’s their send-up of New Zealand’s bloke culture—Ken and Ken, one a sheep farmer and the other (in his mind) a city sophisticate. Mix in the penchant of Lynda to wander into the audience to interview audience members (or bring them to the stage for deliberately unprofessional skits) and their constant wisecracking, and the whole thing makes for a pretty whacked-out evening that lists heavily toward lowbrow entertainment.
But here’s the thing—it’s like hearing old Henny Youngman sketches in that you find yourself laughing despite the fact that it’s pretty dumb stuff (and the combination of fast talking and Kiwi accents means we lose about half of what they say.) There’s also timing—the ridiculousness is broken up by poignant moments—on-stage video projections sport not just the silly characters, but also pitches for the Topp’s causes. And, shucks, they ain’t bad as musicians either. Their music won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but they sing well, harmonize with power, and they’re terrific yodelers! Think a country music version of the English music hall…
The Topp Twins’ delightfully goofy show served as a testimonial for not taking one’s self too seriously. We can only hope that Evelyn Harris was watching. The former Sweet Honey in the Rock singer did a four-song warm-act set that included “My Darling Clementine.” The Topp Twins played stuff like this for laughs, but Harris was caught up in her own ego and acted like wanted to channel Lena Horne. She was so full of herself that we soon had our fill of her.
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