We are approaching face-off at the Hop Pole site, Tewkesbury, Spring 2008. It's the 37th time this piece-of-shit song has been aired at ear-splitting volume on Builder FM this morning, my nerves are frayed beyond language & just to up the ante a mite further everyone's favourite short-arsed Welsh Chippy has decided to join in. Again. I am perched on a scaffold staring at a C18th wallpainting, a Swann Morton scalpel shaking temptingly in my hand as our hero opens his tar-corrupted lungs wider than Mary Millington's legs & spews forth into the working environment. A brace of other Chippies & a lone Spark attempt chorus but the complexity of lyric flummoxes them temporarily. I look to my colleagues for support : Mark is oblivious, buried deep in headphones offering him 'At Home He Thinks He's A Tourist' & Bianca is single-handedly trying to figure out the point of Jenni Murray. This one I'll have to go alone, Mary mother of God...
Chippy 2 (or Spark), in lieu of any creditable vocal contribution, straps on a hand tool & air-planes us seemlessly to the bridge "Duh'ner ner, ner ner ner ner ner, der ner ner ner ner, ner nerr..." as Chippy 1, bereft momentarily of the oxygen of publicity, lets off a spectacular fart that could blow the guy ropes off the NME tent at Glastonbury. At this point the Kaiser Chiefs magnum opus is drowned out entirely with peals of hysteria eminating from every corner of the building, rocking the scaffold/house to it's foundations. It seems I am the only person in striking distance from the massive radio with a face like a wet wednesday & hands that would prefer to be doing dishes but I am fucked if I'm going down for this. My eyes dart around inside my head, looking for a viable excuse not to be doubled up & briefly losing motor skills but I find nothing. Fortunately for everyone, the Chiefs have kindly provided a no-brainer outro, allowing Chippy 1 to pick up the baton & run with it straight through to the finishing post & me to regain a semblance of composure & personal dignity, narrowly avoiding a senseless loss of life...
It is over : All camps retreat to their original positions & a mantle of comparative quiet descends over the battleground. Chippy 1 plugs a hole with a dowel he prepared earlier & Chippy 2 helps him by watching. I return to my duties but make a mental note to boycott any products by Caterpillar in future. I turn once again to Mark & Bianca who, like extras in Dr Who, appear not to have moved one iota. When they return how can I ever explain th.."Hey Hey Wanna be a Rockstar..." (ad nauseam)
1 comment:
Much obliged for the link there, chief. I'll do the same when I can be arsed.
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