- Thank you, thank you, thank you.
You are my god, my inspiration, my everything.
- He's on a different level now,
how he listens to records, how he plays the records.
And I think he's very special, because no other DJ can do that.
- I don't really know what he was doing,
whether he was, you know, honing his talents in another direction, but...
then he just disappeared from the scene completely.
It was really depressing.
- I mean, he's probably down in South America,
still hanging out,
probably trying to snort up one of the countries, or...
I don't know. He's just...
I like to think he's still out there.
(surf crashing)
(girl giggling)
- Frankie, I'm curious, can you tell me about your flip-flop collection?
- I'm a bit of the, uh...
Imelda Marcos of the flip-flop world.
Flip-flop is, for me, it's perfection,
and sometimes, if I'm stuck,
and I can't mix, I can't, you know...
I'm a creative person, I'm an artist.
So sometimes I just stare at the flip-flop
for hours.
I'm not joking. I'm being serious.
- Really? - Yes, I do.
- Recently, you've been married,
so how is now being an husband?
- An ass-band'? - A husband.
- Oh, a husband. - Husband.
- A husband. Yeah, it's very nice. It's what I've--
(airplane flying overhead) - Say hello!
- Hello... Ibiza!
(crowd chanting): Frankie! Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!
Frankie! Frankie! Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!...
(Schwab's "DJs in a Row" playing)
(cheeflng)
Well I used to drink
I used to smoke (screaming)
Well then I danced
I used to drink
I used to smoke
Well then I danced
Well come before the rhythm in this crowded room
Need some new religion and I need it pretty soon
Drink
I used to smoke
Well then I danced
I used to cuss I used to fuss
Well then I danced
Worship based on comfort met her 'round my thighs
Angels drawn on velvet brings water to my eyes
I want to dance and smoke
And dance all night
I don't pray
Dance I don't pray dance I don't pray
Dancing no more
I say oh no five DJs in a row
Come on let's go
Oh no the DJ's got to go
Come on let's go
Those DJs
They're always scratching
Itching
Playing
Oh
- This is Pete Tong, you're listening to The Essential Selection,
and I'm sitting across from Frankie Wilde.
How are you, Frankie? - Well, I pay your scale, man.
- 11 years, Frankie. 11 years in Ibiza,
Playing probably some of the best clubs in the world.
How do you feel about it this year? - What, mate?
- It's your 11th year, Frankie, of playing in Ibiza.
You must be thrilled.
- It's been fucking hot in here, the last week.
God.
I mean,
think about...
You're old, like me. You're an old geezer.
Remember that martini campaign in the '70s?
"Martini is..." dot, dot, dot, dot. Remember that?
When I was a kid, that wound me up, man, big time.
It was like, is what? "What the fuck is it?
What the fuck is martini?"
But I was young, and I didn't really understand.
And now I'm mature,
and I've lived 38 years,
and I can confidently say...
"Ibiza is..."
dot, dot, dot, dot.
You know what I mean? And that's really nice.
It's really nice to be able to feel that.
There's spunk everywhere on this island.
Everyone's done it,
and they've been free with it.
They haven't done it to make babies.
It fucking swung out, and spun a bit out,
and it's hit a plant, and that's grown.
The wall and his vines and ivy and shit.
It's all spunk.
Look at this lot over here. Look at them.
They all love it. They fucking love-- Oi!
Who out there likes to fuckin' party? (all): Yeah!
- I can't hear you!
Who out there likes to fuckin' party? - Yeah!
- Who likes to fuck and party?
- Yeah!
(techno music pounding)
- Frankie was definitely
one of the best. He had this very, sort of,
own style, his very own momentum with a crowd.
I don't think that anyone else did it his way.
- He's a showman as much as he is a musician.
He controls the crowd musically and physically.
- Well, he was actually a born-natural behind the turntable.
There's no doubt about that.
I was quite jealous of that,
because I always had to try a little bit harder.
- Frankie Wilde, el DJ mas bueno de Ia isla.
- Super, super, super loco.
(speaking foreign language)
(pop music playing)
- Frankie was cruising along, doing his thing,
getting all the attention that he needed, and then he met Max.
- No, hey, tell him it's like a wasp just stung my clit. Yeah.
I don't give a fuck if he's religious. Tell him anyway.
Yeah. Fuck him. Bye. Anyway...
- A bit of a tosser, to be honest. Not my sort of person,
but absolutely took him to the next level.
(giggling)
- I love you, Max!
- Max, first of all, brought Frankie to my attention.
I knew he had what it took behind the decks, but, urn...
it turned out that Frankie really understood the music production side.
He knew his way around a studio.
(groaning)
~ Oi!
Do you think we're making a jazz album?
- I was right in the middle of going all the fucking way.
- Start outwith some brushes?
(mimics light brush tempo)
Start fucking hitting those drums! Start banging those drums
like you bang your fucking sister! Clear, Ziegfried?
- That's, uh... that's the first one.
So, um... I signed him straight away...
and, uh, Frankie delivered.
(upbeat synth-disco playing)
It was massive.
It'd come out of car windows.
You'd go in the supermarket...
Even my grandmother would whistle that tune
when I went to see her in the nursing home.
- Frankie met, urn, Sonja
when they were on the video shoot to "Rise Again."
Oh, man, everybody knew, you know, she'd been about,
but he seemed to like that. I mean, that was his thing.
You know, I mean...
even I'd had a go at her.
- Fifteen-love.
I was thinking, you know how Paul Newman's got
his salad dressings and that?
So why not... Frankie Wilde hummus?
- I think that's a really good idea. - People'd come and see the gigs,
say, "That was a great set, Frankie."
I'd say, "Cheers, mate. Want some hummus?"
You know, just as a fan. - Yeah.
Quite a good name for an album.
- How's that?
- Well, Frankie Wilde, "Hummus."
- What, call my album Hummus?
- Yeah. - I don't think so.
- I've got good ideas, Frankie. You should listen to me.
- If I've got me own hummus brand and my album's called "Hummus,"
it's all getting a bit much. - No, I think it's a good name.
- Why not change my fucking name to "Frankie Hummus?"
- That sounds good. Yeah.
- I think a lot of people tolerated her because she was Frankie's wife.
At the end of the day, I mean, she was partying with everyone else.
I didn't like her. I didn't think she was good for him.
("Wedding March" playing) - I fucking hate you.
- Did I fuck her? Oh...
- Whoo!
- Yeah, I fucked her.
(chuckling)
- Well, legend has it
that Frank's problems started quite undramatically.
It was the simplest thing in the world that kicked it off.
Years and years of noise was the basis of the problem,
but the very beginnings of it, in his life,
started very plainly.
(coughing)
(high-pitched ringing)
(ringing dulls)
(ringing grows louder)
(gentle flamenco music playing)
(ringing)
(faint, jangly beat playing)
(Banning): Frankie's problem was actually quite common amongst DJs.
It's an occupational hazard of working the clubs,
and the noise just takes its toll.
(beat-heavy electronica pulsing)
- Someone like Frankie, having a problem like that?
I thought, "This geezer's going to go.
He's going to lose it," And he did lose it.
I watched him lose it, slowly but surely.
(breathing heavily)
(eerie, low growling)
- Fucking come on, then.
(breathes deeply)
Ah!
(ragged breathing)
(coughing)
- Thinking of the Spanish look. I quite like this colour.
Perhaps, maybe that one...
Frankie.
'Morning, honey. Hey, Frankie!
(hitch-pitched hum)
(faintly): Come here. I've got something to show you.
Come here. I want to show you something.
Come here.
I want to ask you something.
- 'Morning. - 'Morning, swee... Oh.
You all right?
Um...
If we go for the Spanish look,
(faintly): which is very much in keeping with what we're doing here...
it's very now, very Spanish, really.
We've got this over here, the Japanese look.
It's, uh...
It works, basically. So what do you think?
It's for the garden.
- Bit of both. - Okay. Bit of both?
We can do that. (whirring)
- Fuck!
Fucking hell!
(laughing)
(groaning)
You all right?
- His hearing was fucked.
But he tried to keep working, and plough through.
You know, put the horse blinkers on.
Ignore the problem and it'll go away, you know.
Always works for me. (chuckling)
(distorted guitar playing)
(stops playing abruptly)
(guitar roaring)
(interviewer): Can you tell us what's happening with the new album?
- It's fine.
- You're perfect. You're perfect.
Your fans are curious about the new album.
They have to know.
(hoarsely): It's good. It's going really well.
Been bending the sound.
Sort of... I've been forging it.
Um, we have a lyrical smelter.
- Yeah.
- And I've got these two, um...
like, Austrian mates, who are stoking the fires.
Everybody should have at least two Austrian mates.
Everybody should have at least two.
- When can we expect the new album to come out?
- Soon...
ish.
(softly humming an arpeggio)
When the clouds are filled with your fantasy
Rain it down on me On me
When the whirlwind says
That it's time to say whirl it down on me
Whirl it down on me
lam...
Fantasy
Words like nightmares daggers staring
Witch's brew and eyes are glaring
- Oi, oi.
Can I have a word? Can I have a word?
- What's this? Yeah. It's good?
(speaking loudly): I took a call just before. A couple of hours ago.
I forgot to mention it, but I need to... I need to, uh...
The album people,
they want the lyrics for the sleeve.
I just need you to write them down. We can pop them off,
get them off, and we don't have to worry about it.
- No, no, he never writes them down.
- What else did you sing after that?
(Sonja); Frankie?
Frank?
Frank!
- What?
- Have you got a condom?
- Eh? - Have you got a condom?
- No, I'm not going to fuck her. I'm knackered.
I'm just going to have a nosh.
(dance music thumping)
(crowd): Frankie! Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!...
Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!
Frankie! Frankie!
(techno music pounding)
(Stoddart): Well, denial is a river in Frank,
and it runs deep,
and his sets were shambolic at times.
Clearly it could only be the work of a man who couldn't hear.
(house music pulsing)
(throbbing bass fading in and out)
(dancehall vocals fade in)
(out-of-sync bass fades in)
- Whoo!
- It wasn't pretty,
but, you know, for me,
for someone that has gone through something like that
to still get up there and give it a go... is a big thing.
Qeeflfig)
(stark electronica playing)
(turntable squeaking)
(screaming)
(electronic feedback buzzes loudly)
(cheeflng)
(screaming)
(trail of Dead's "Richter Scale Madness" playing)
(Max): Yeah, a couple of nurses this time.
The whole outfit.
No Stethoscopes, because they dangle and they're cold.
Yeah.
Now listen very carefully, okay?
It's very important. This is very important.
I have cancer, okay?
And I'm very delicate,
so they have to be very gentle.
Ciao.
Hey, Frank. How are you? - All right.
- Attaboy. - How you doing?
- Oh, good, good. How the fuck are...
Listen, I had that dream again I was sucking my own cock,
but this time, I don't have a huge cock. I have a normal-size cock.
No spine, my spine disappears, so my head just...
It just flops down onto my, uh...
Anyway. - You all right?
- Yeah, yeah. Siddown. Siddown, siddowmsiddown.
Look, I, uh... lwasjust talking to the label,
and they'd like to see a couple of tracks.
- Uh...
- The label would like a couple of tracks.
- It's coming. It's coming. - Yeah.
- The tracks are coming, man. Relax. Don't worry, mate. It's fine.
It's all right. - I saw your show last night.
- I really fucked up last night, man. - Yeah.
- My call. I picked the wrong set.
- It stunk. It stunk like shit, Frank.
It stunk like, uh... Well, like you shit in your pants,
and you just sat in it for a week,
and then you shit yourself again.
That's how fucking bad it stunk, Frank.
- It was shit, yeah? - It was shit, Frank. Yes, it was shit.
- I'll tell you, the fucking monitors at that place.
You know, I'm fucking, you know, mixing. I can't hear a fucking thing!
We've got to have words with them.
Otherwise, we blow that fucking place out.
I couldn't hear a fucking thing.
- Because you might be deaf, Frank.
- What's that?
- You could be deaf, Frank.
- What did you say? - You are deaf.
- I can't hear you, Max. - You're fucking deaf, asshole!
Who the fuck you fooling, Frank?
You're talking like a 95-year-old war vet.
Frank, you need professional help.
- I'm thinking about getting some professional help.
- Yeah.
(Beta Band's "it's Over" playing)
Fuck it.
Who could find him The sidewinding Indian
Why do they miss him The overpaid simpleton
She jumped in the river... - Okay, Frank.
Those are left alone they're left outside
Frank!
I only ask your name never meant to hurt you
She wrote me a letter on the back of the road
I was travelling away (low-pitched hum)
And she travelled through the circle...
(humming loudly)
No more calls on the telephone
She's been turned off and I'm all alone
She's been switched off inside of my head
An imaginary friend sitting by my bed
Taking pictures of my soul
All the angles no one could know
I thought an eagle was seeing through my eyes
I thought everybody turning into spies
Reassures the only aim of my life
Please reassure me that I'm doing all right
No more calls on the telephone
She's been turned off and I'm all alone
- I don't want you to panic, Frank.
I've got some bad news for you, though.
You're going deaf. Completely deaf.
As you know, your right ear is completely shot.
Your left ear, that's this one,
has got 20% left.
You were born with little holes in them,
and slowly, the fluid pressure is dropping.
- Can't you just plug it up with some ear putty or something?
- Your organism, it's way too sensitive and delicate for that.
Surgery doesn't work.
Cochlear implants don't work.
You've got to stop exposing yourself to so much noise.
- What do you mean by that?
- It means that if you listen to absolute silence,
your ears are going to last a little bit longer.
They're crumbling as we speak.
Stop the drugs, Frank. Stop the drinking.
Go to bed at a decent hour.
We can give you a hearing aid that gives you temporary hearing,
but that damages the ear even further.
- Speak up. - These are the facts, Frank.
(loudly): These are the facts, Frank. We can't change them.
You are deaf, man.
You are a deaf man.
- Oi, oi, oi. This is... this is costing me 2,000 fucking euros an hour.
Chuck me a fucking bone.
- This is your hearing aid, Frank.
Use it only when you have to.
Only when you have to.
- Only when I have to.
- Right. Only when you have to.
Got that?No exceptions.
- Can you keep on gigging? Frankie...
Can you keep on gigging?
- I love them both, you know?
I love hearing...
and I love DJing.
I was thinking this morning maybe I should write a book.
- That's a brilliant idea.
- That might take years, though, so...
Perhaps, like, a pamphlet,
sort of a brochure thing.
- Listen, Frankie, I...
I want to tell you
that whatever your decision, I will support it,
wholeheartedly.
You and me and little Kingy,
that's all that matters to me.
Deaf, dumb or blind, baby,
we will get through this.
- It's brilliant to almost hear that.
(Tufford): Fair play to the guy.
I mean, I have no idea what I would've done in that situation.
I mean, there he is... He's between, you know,
a rock and, you know, another rock.
Which is harder and bigger.
(sniffs weakly)
(chittering)
- What?
(glossolalia)
I'm actually thinking about giving it a bit of a break.
(growling)
Of course I fucking love you.
How can you say that?
I just think...
we don't necessarily bring out the best in each other.
You're not always the best thing for me.
It's my problem. It's not yours.
You know what I mean? Why can't we just be...
be mates or something for a little bit,
so I can just give you a ring every few weeks,
you know? Just make it a little bit more casual.
Couldn't we do that? (snarling)
(lullaby-like glossolalia)
(industrial electronica throbbing)
I...
Am...
Fantasy
Black
Black as coal
Dark as your soul
Fantasy...
- It sounds like the caca.
_ Huh?
- Is Frank there?
Is this Frank standing in front of me?
Or is this a drunken baboon drooling on the mix board?
What in all of the heavens are you on, Frank?
- Scheisse!
- Are you fucking deaf or something?
What's your fucking problem?
They would laugh you out of Austria.
I can hear them laughing now.
Where is Frankie fucking Wilde, Frankie?!
Is he fucking gone?
On the fucking...
Go away, study, study, study? Huh?
You are deaf?
- Almost.
(screaming)
- This is like all the terrors and the horrors of the world,
raining down on your skull.
- The last three months, it's really...
rapidly accelerated.
But I've got this,
and I really thought I could do this job, man.
I'll show you.
- Oh, hello, Mr. Drum!
Drum!
(tinny house beat playing)
- The left ear, there's still a little bit left.
This little fella is a fucking lifeline, man.
But I can use it only when I have to.
(static humming)
(feedback squealing)
(shuts sound off)
(speaking German)
- What? What has happened? - What?
(silence)
(chair clunks)
(Beta Band's "Troubles" playing)
It's about time we fall in love
You know that I've been trying
It's about time we had a laugh
You know that I've been crying
Too many people Too many troubles
Too many mouths are lying
If everybody laughed for just one day
You know that'd make me happy
(Stoddart): He was stone fucking deaf.
There's not much you can do as a DJ
if you can't hear.
Generally, the field of music, other than the obvious example,
has been dominated by people who can hear.
He was never going to hear again.
It was as simple as that.
It was...
gone.
Too many troubles too many troubles
Don't know how we live so long
Too many troubles
It's time for us
To live and laugh and laugh and laugh
It's about time that I said Hello
To all those lonely people
The ones at the back Who could never talk back
Through all the tears and sadness
You never really know who's there beside you
Who will be your comfort
If everybody laughed for just one day
You know that'd make you happy
Too many troubles too many troubles
Don't know how we live so long
Too many troubles too many troubles
It's time for us to live and laugh and laugh and laugh
- Hey, you all right, Frankie?
All right?
Oi.
- Blink! Hello, mate.
All right? - All right.
- Good game? Is it a good game?
- Yeah, it's all right. It's pretty good.
It's decent.
- Sonja in? Sonja in?
- Yeah, she's here. She's upstairs.
She's packing, mate. - She all right?
- She's leaving you, Frank.
She's leaving you.
For me.
Whoa, yeah! Yeah!
- Fucking hell!
He fucking nailed that one, didn't he?
(Sonja): Can you grab my suitcases for me?
- Brilliant. - Do you want a line?
- No, not right now. Thanks, mate. Cheers.
- Frankie!
(sniffing)
(coughing)
- You all right? Hey.
(chuckling)
- I'm leaving you.
I'm going to take the tiger, that's mine,
and I want those ones, obviously, because they're mine.
And, uh, you can have the sculpture
that your mother bought us.
Aren't you upset, Frankie?
Do you want to say anything to me? Anything at all?
(Max): Frankie!
Where the fuck's the album, Frank?
(loudly): Where the fuck is the album, Frank?
Where the fuck is the album?!
It smells like shit in here, Frank.
What the fuck's happened to you?
What the fuck happened to you, Frank?
I don't know what this is. I don't know what this is.
This is bullshit, Frank. This isn't...
This isn't how you take on things, huh?
Ah. Listen...
Maybe this isn't the worst thing in the world.
Take some fucking time off.
Go in the sun, for fuck's sakes, huh?
Huh?
Eat a lot of fruit. Get some fucking vitamins in you.
Vegetables and grains and shit.
I can%,uh...
You know, there's...
I was reading this. There's a fish.
It's called a zebrafish.
There's little hairs on it.
And somehow they can implant that, uh...
Ah... I don't know.
It's too fucking hot.
It's always too fucking hot.
I... I can't help you.
I don't know how to... I don't know how to fucking...
I don't want to help you. I can't help you.
(Stoddart): I didn't want a deaf DJ on the label.
I didn't want the company to be touched with the deaf stamp.
Well, business is tough, and sometimes you have to make awkward decisions,
and I've made harder decisions than dropping the deaf DJ.
(Lucienne Boyer's "Parlez-moi d'amour" playing)
Parlez-moi d 'amour
Redites-moi des choses tendres
Votre beau discours
Mon coeur n'est pas [as
De I'entendre
Pourvu que toujours
Vous répétiez ces mots suprémes
Je vous aime
Vous savez bien que dans Ie fond je n'en crois rien
Mais cependantje veux encore écouter
Ces mots que j 'adore
Votre voix aux sons caressants
Qui les murmure en frémissant
(Banning): Frank just locks himself up in his room
and didn't come out of his villa for a long time.
He had this theory that he was going to get his hearing back
by having complete silence, and wanted to rest his ears completely.
He hired people to bring in supplies for him to the villa.
The only accounts we have of Frank during this period
come from various drug dealers. He was in a very dark place.
Pourvu que toujours
Vous répétiez
(sniffing) Ces mots suprémes
Je vous aime
(wheezing)
(faint thump)
(thump)
(electronic guitar playing)
(screaming)
(tarp crumples dully)
(wick fizzing)
(badger croaking)
(screaming)
(badger snarling)
(shrieking)
(whimpering)
(glossolalia)
- I love you too.
(9UnshoU
(interviewer): Where is Frankie Wilde today?
(Max): Well, I haven't...
I haven't talked to him in almost a year now.
I've heard some stories.
This guy supposedly saw him in New York,
wearing a garbage bag for a hat,
and shoeboxes on his feet,
and he, uh... he had a rock
and he was trying to eat it like a sandwich.
I don't, uh...
I don't think Frankie would do that.
He looked like a burn, he always looked like a burn,
but he had a really special bond with the homeless.
(Beta Band's "Al Sharp" playing)
Is it because I'm beside myself with love
That I can say these things to you honey
- Hello?
Or is it because I'm beside myself with guilt...
- Hola.
Hello? Hello.
(loudly): Is this where you come
if you want to learn how to read lips?
- Of course. You want to learn?
- I've got no idea what you're saying, darling.
I can't hear anything. This is the place,
yeah?
They look like a couple of cunts.
I don't know how to lip-read.
Maybe you should write something down.
Because I can't hear you, and I can't read lips.
So we need to get started somehow, don't we?
So maybe write something down?
(clattering)
Temper, temper.
- Watch.
Concentrate.
Watch my lips.
Watch. Lips.
Tongue.
Jaw.
As well as facial expressions.
Gestures.
Lip-reading...
is about seeing, feeling.
(mouthing words)
Fill in the blanks, Frank.
- Stuh.
- Stepdad. (giggling)
- Huh.
- Husband.
- Wah.
(slowly): The quick, brown fox.
Now...
- The. - Quick...
- Quick.
Brown.
Fox.
Over... the... lazy...
dog.
- Faster.
- The quick, brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.
- Good. Good.
- Fucking good.
- Great.
They all speak English here.
Don't worry.
- Scotch, neat, please, mate.
- Double scotch, neat.
- Was that okay? - It was very good.
- We'll see what he comes back with.
- To my "PS"
- Cheers.
You and me got the same hobby.
Another one?
(coughing)
- What can I get you?
- Uh...
Scotch, neat, please.
- Double scotch again.
- In England, it means, "fuck off."
- Very similar gesture.
- Fuck off. Double.
- Double fuck off.
Waiter!
Double scotch, please, mate.
(Silent)
- No. More.
- What do you want to drink to? Do you want to drink to something?
Who's Simon?
- Silence!
- Who is he?
- No Simon. Silence.
- You finished with him? - Good.
- Great.
(Speaking Spanish)
("More intensity" by Pete Tong and Chris Cox playing)
(Speaking Spanish)
(laughing)
- I know what I could do.
I know what I could do.
Fuck the DJ lark.
You know how on TV, you've got a little, ugly bird,
bottom right-hand corner, doing all this business?
I could do that. I could be a cool one.
A cool little fucker in the corner of the box. I could.
Think positively.
Yeah.
"You going down to Pacha tonight?" "Oh, no, mate. no.
I'm staying in, because Frankie Wilde's
at the right-hand bottom corner of the TV tonight,
doing the fucking hand jive. It'll be brilliant."
- You finished?
You finished?
There's nothing wrong with being deaf.
I'm deaf.
Trust your other senses -
your sight, your smell and your touch.
Just relax.
It will come.
It just takes time.
It will come.
(playing flamenco music)
(man singing in Spanish)
(pounding house beat fades in)
(bass pounding)
(slow, percussive house beat playing)
(bass thumping)
(soft guitar music)
(Banning): Well, Frank's system was ingenious,
and with the weight of his sight, people claimed that he began to see
a rhythm in everything, a pattern in the visual world around him.
You know, he could see music.
(squealing)
(Tufford): Frankie had to work with this
all his life,
and then he realized he was able
to piece together those sets that he used to do.
And he pressed a, you know...
four to the floor "return of."
(distorted synth line playing)
(raucous dance beat playing)
(music stops)
- I once stole 500 quid
from your wallet, in the studio.
- Well...
it's only money, eh? No big deal.
- And it was me who stuck that scaff bar
through the windscreen of your Mere.
It wasn't that Asian kid.
- Well, he's probably out now anyway, so...
no harm done.
- I shagged Twila.
For three years.
Because you're a mate, yeah...
I only ever made love to her bum.
- She doesn't like it in the burn.
- Have a listen to this. Tell me what you think, yeah?
(faint pounding and yelling)
- Open the fucking door!
Open the door, Frank!
Open the fucking door!
- Do you want some more coffee?
- Frank, Frank, Frank. Open the door. Open the door.
- So? - Oh, Frank. Oh, God.
- Yeah? - So fucking good.
- It's good? - Okay, it's fucking hot.
First off, did you... Who's this?
- Max, this is Penelope.
Penelope, this is Max. - Hi, Max.
- Hi.
Forget it. Look,
did you mix this? - Yeah.
- Did you produce this?
- Yeah. - Fuck.
Fuck, Frank. Gold. Fucking gold.
It's beautiful.
- Tell me what it's like. I haven't heard it.
- It gets in your fucking chest. I've never heard nothing like it.
Fucking... my fucking heart.
Itchangedn.
What do you mean, you haven't heard it?
What do you mean?
- Well, I haven't heard it. - Why?
- I'm completely deaf, Max.
- Completely?
- Yeah.
Nothing.
To the handicapped.
(The Concretes' "You Can't Hurry Love" playing)
- The first time I heard "Hear No Evil,"
I was, like, "Whatever."
But then Max told me Frankie's story,
and the penny dropped.
You can't hurry love
People love a good tragedy.
People love handicaps, frankly.
Urn, it gets them emotional, you know.
So I'll get on that...
deaf train with a wheelchair ramp, no problem.
First-class ticket, please.
(Stoddart): I don't see
why we should limit ourselves to deaf people, really.
But I don't...
I mean, I don't want to reveal too much, either,
about where we're going, but it's going to be big.
It's going to be big and it's going to be handicapped.
Imagine all the deaf people, all the deaf people in the world.
They need a fucking hero, Frank.
They don't have a fucking hero. There's no deaf hero.
It's you, Frank. Eh?
You're like... the fucking link
you draw in all the deaf kids that are screaming,
with no hearing.
They're yelling out to...
Who's going to listen? Not other fucking deaf kids.
They can't hear, huh? You.
You're the fucking voice, and wait...
Wait, huh? You're going to love this.
Huh? Huh?
Can you hear me?
(falsetto): No, I can't hear you, Max, What, are you trying to make me money?
(normal voice): Yes, I'm making you money. Look. Fuck, look. That...
is just the fucking beginning.
(Frankie): I wouldn't put my name to any old product.
If I could describe it as...
bad speed in a can.
We've all had bad speed, haven't we?
I'm just going to have a sip. I can't resist.
Oh. Wow.
- He made disabilities cool.
(Frankie): What's with the fucking ear?
- The ear, that's, uh...
represents your deafness, okay?
Deaf people hate their ears, see? Don't they? See?
So it's sort of symbolic, so you're going to smash it.
The deaf kids'll go fucking nuts.
Don't actually... don't actually hit the ear,
because I'm gonna put some glass on that,
turn that into a table.
- It's wank.
I'm sucking deaf cock for you, mate,
and I'm... (makes gagging sound)
I'm fucking choking on it.
- All right, first off, you're sucking showbiz cock.
But look, this is going to be good money.
This is all about cash, shitloads of cash, Frank,
and better than that,
Sonja can't get her grubby fucking fingers
on this fucking money, you understand?
This is Sonja-free cash.
- He's not a whore!
- Look, Frank, okay?
You're not giving me any fucking...
You're not giving me any positive feedback.
You know what really fucking bothers me about you?
The fact that you think
art just fucking happens, that it's just fucking free,
like these people just took out
time from their fucking day to come down here and do a bunch of shit for nothing.
What you've got to realize is you're a fucking hero.
That's what the yellow's all about. You make fun of me and that...
I picked that fucking jacket. Little deaf kids all over the world
are going to see that yellow... They'll run out, buy that jacket,
200, maybe $300.
They're going to run around, all proudly deaf,
all just yellow, fluorescently deaf...
(Silent)
(reporters clamouring)
Siddown.
Charlize Bondo!
Chamze Bonds, Ibiza Beat.
Frankie, can you really DJ as a deaf man?
How is that possible?
(reporters murmuring)
- They murmuring? - Yeah, quite a bit.
(Frankie): I'm an honest man, and I can tell you
that this album was made...
completely without the aid of me ears.
And at Pasha next week,
I'll be DJing as a deaf man.
And if you don't believe me...
you know, fuck you.
Because I've got nothing...
nothing to prove to you sluts.
- Okay... - At all.
- Role model. Role model. - Nothing.
- Okay, they're rolling.
Listen. Listen. Listen to me.
No, no.
He loves sluts. Frank loves sluts.
Now, I think what he's trying to say is,
even though he feels he has nothing to prove to you,
he'd be happy to prove anything you want...
to you.
I think it's important that we all realize
that this is a major comeback from a... from a rock.
What he's accomplished just in the last few months
is astonishing.
He'll be at the Pacha nightclub. Come down and...
and watch him mix yourself.
And watch the miracle happen, okay?
'Cause, you know, I realize that there are doubters
in this room, which fucks me up,
because...
Why would someone pretend to be deaf?
I mean, that's retarded.
It's not like
he's fucking benefiting from this. It's a fucking obstacle.
He can't hear a... Your mom's a cunt. Nothing.
Zero. Blank.
This man, what he's done, fucking...
it gets me in my fucking heart, what he's done, and you,
you come down here, and you put on this big fucking show,
like he's going to fucking make shit up!
- Hey, relax. Relax, man.
- Okay. Next question.
(shouting)
(techno music playing)
- It's amazing that somebody that... that's deaf
can actually...
you know, be a DJ.
- Frankie Wilde, good luck.
- I just think that guy is so fantastic.
He has a gift that no one else has,
and somehow, he is gonna do it.
(speaking Italian)
(crowd): Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!
Frankie! Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!
Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!
- The vibe that night was incredible.
All the memories that come back, you know?
He hit the depths, then he was just back.
- Pacha, Frankie Wilde, comeback, take this, check this out.
No, I've never seen anything like that. It was amazing.
Frankie! Frankie! Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!...
(jubilant disco beat playing)
(cheering and whistling)
(synth stuttering)
(booming house beat fades up)
- He probably never thought he'd ever feel that again,
and to come back and actually feel that and more,
it was a great experience, and everybody in the room
shared the same experience. It was really, really special.
It was kind of what dance music's about, really.
- He just had Clubland sparking, big time.
- He just took the roof off the place. It was amazing.
It was like he was an even
better DJ as a deaf man than he'd been before.
It was incredible.
- Frankie! Frankie!
We're the fucking champions!
We got the fucking award!
This is it. This is our... fucking moment!
(stuttering) There's nothing... I can't...
What do you want to do? Want to buy the moon?
We'll buy the fucking moon. It doesn't matter.
You don't understand. It's fucking huge. It's...
Hold on a second.
(inhaling deeply)
(exhafing)
Okay. They're going to come in.
15 minutes. They all want to talk to you.
15 minutes. 15 minutes, Frank.
This is a big moment. Listen to me.
It's very important. 15 minutes.
That's all they need. Tomorrow, big fucking press conference.
That's what we're going to do. Very important, okay?
Watch.
- Max... - What? What?
- Can you do me a favour, man? - Anything. Anything.
- Could you leave us alone for 1O minutes?
- Oh, no, see, no, Frankie. Listen, look at my lips.
They come in 15 fucking minutes of your life.
15 minutes.
15 fucking minutes. Frank, 15...
No. No. Frank, no, no. Frank...
- 1 O minutes.
- Sure. (muttering)
Okay, now, all right now, calm down.
You'll get in, buddy, don't worry. You, I used to like.
You could do with some cheering up.
All right. Okay. Hold on. Okay.
Frankie?
Frankie!
Jesus Christ.
Frankie!
Frank! Fuck.
- It was, uh...
like a flat line.
It was...
Still, to this day, I'm...
- That was it. Gone. Frankie Wilde, bye-bye.
Gone.
And everybody was like that- holding the baby.
- I've heard a story that he's running a record shop in Oxford.
There's a story that he went to Fiji
and then died of syphilis. But nobody knows, you know.
I don't know where he is.
- He was another deaf guy with a deaf guy's needs,
and he went off to...
a quiet place.
Although I suppose that wouldn't make much difference.
(Beach Boys' "Good Vibrations" playing)
Oh
I love the colourful clothes she wears
And the way the sunlight plays upon her hair
I hear the sound
Of a gentle word
On the wind that lifts her perfume
Through the air
I'm picking up good vibrations
She's giving me the excitations
Oh bop bop I'm picking up good vibrations
Good vibrations She's giving me the excitations
Excitations Good good good good vibrations
She's giving me the excitations
Good good good good vibrations
She's giving me the excitations
Close my eyes
She's somehow closer now
Softly smile I know she must be kind
When I look in her eyes
She goes with me to a blossom world
I'm picking up good vibrations
She's giving me the excitations...
(Reflekt's "Need to Feel Loved" playing)