Sonic The HedgehogThis week on Desert Island Discs we have SEGA mascot, Sonic the Hedgehog. You can check out his playlist here.
I’m blue (Eiffel 65). Those slags up at SEGA HQ were insistent their front-man should “coordinate” with their dumb little logo. In short, to get the job, I needed to be blue. And not “blue” like a moody Frenchman or a Bernard Manning joke, they meant the same colour as the sky an’ shit! I thought they were just twisting my melon, but no, those smack-‘eads were serious. We tried body paint, but with the sweat I was working up, it wouldn’t stay on for 5 minutes, and those make-up girls weren’t appreciating the prick I was slipping ‘em. So I plumped for the full-body tattoo. It right pisses me off when people talk about that tart Christian Bale “suffering for his art” because he gains or loses a few pounds. He should try explaining to his little ‘uns why they’re brown while daddy’s blue. Breaks my bloody heart, every time.
Addicted to bass (Puretone). That should really be “base”, d’ya know what I mean? Ha! It’s true, I was a bit of a fan of the old amphetamines, back in the day. After I landed the SEGA gig, people just expected me to be perky an’ edgy, 24-7. Well, you fookin’ try whizzin’ around all day, especially after a night on the tiles with that pill ‘ead Dr Robotnik, without a bit of chemical assistance of your own! The days when I could get by with a strong cuppa coffee were long gone, d’ya hear me? It were more necessity than addiction, to be honest.
Infinity (Guru Josh). Huge tune, this. Huge. The first time I heard it was at the Hacienda, back at the tail end of the 80s. I’ve still got the white gloves. The 90s were coming, and the new decade just seemed massive. Like anything was possible. Anyway, this track just took me, ya know? I was part of the music, part of the rhythm. It just flowed. Primordial, almost. Though I’ll admit, I was completely off my spikey blue tits at the time.
24-hour party people (Happy Mondays). Around the mid-ninties, Tails started bugging me to take it a bit easier. Honestly, he was worse than me ma, Mrs Tiggy-Winkles, and she’s a proper old fuss pot. But I knew I was over doing it when Shaun and Bez took me aside and told me to calm it down, like. You have to listen then – right? – it’s like the Pope telling you lay off the religion. So, I just did it, I knocked all that crazy shit on the head.
Fast car (Tracy Chapman). These days, I get my speed kicks in other ways. Tails and Dr. ‘Nik have always been petrol-heads, and as part of me rehab’ we all piled down to Silverstone and raced some of those nippy little Formula 500 cars. Fookin’ class. The Top Gear lads were down there filming the same day, and that Clarkson’s a top lad, had us all in stitches with his stories. Reckons he’s taken Michaela Strachan up the wrong ‘un while doing 150mph on the M1. Absolute boss. That Richard Hammond, on the other hand: Total c*nt.
Gold (Spandau Ballet). Another way I’ve distracted myself from my nasty old habits is to focus on my nice old habits. I’ve since expanded my collection of gold rings – it’s a tip I picked up from Mr T., who famously used necklaces as a substitute for the ciggies. These days I spend less time searching near the edge of perilous cliffs, mind, and more time scouring eBay listings and car-boot sales. Tails calls me the Lovejoy of Salford. Cheeky c*nt.
