‘The original global village idiot?’: A fantasy chat with Mick and Keith …
Part two of the ‘Mick and Keith banter’ series of imaginary chats between two legends of rock
Mick and Keith are sitting in a club having a mano a mano a few hours before a gig. They’ve talked about the hassles of being on the road, future events and the possibility of making a new album, which is where they reach an impasse.
“So what do we think about it then?” says Mick to break the silence.
“What?”
“You know — did it escape your attention none of us gets any younger?”
“Everyone’s gotta go someday, Mick. It’s okay. I just hope it’s not in the next 72 hours.”
“Why 72?”
“Who gives a fuck whether it’s 72 hours or 72 months? It doesn’t matter. Fact is, one of us will be the first to go. And you know what?”
Mick watches his friend closely.
“What?” he says eventually.
“Whoever goes first,” says Keith, “the one that’s left behind — that’s the motherfucker I feel sorry for, man. That’s gonna be a big bag of depositories to be carrying round. He gonna miss the other one big time.”
“Well if it’s you, Keith, I’m pretty confident you’ll know how to stick it out.”
“Yeah, that’s cool but anyway you cut it is gonna be cruel, man. Ain’t no easy way out. The other day I was talkin’ to Bob ’bout how he’s playing it and he said he’s kinda doing it by degrees — onstage.”
“Yeah, Bob and his degrees: the guy is the original fuckin’ global village idiot.”
“Point being, he was pretty harsh. He said: ‘Why you guys still sing Not Fade Away beats me. Why bother? If you’re gonna fade away man, just fuckin’ fade away in plain sight. You’ve earned it.’”
“So what does he mean by doing it in plain sight, mister fuckin’ bone doctor?”
“He says he sits behind the piano on stage, and gradually lowers the height on the piano stool.”
“You’re having a laugh.” Mick looked suddenly alarmed. “Why?”
“Well it’s all part of the act, man. He’s sorta disappearing onstage — without dry ice. He says the audience know he’s sort of a half-step removed. Then it’s three-fifths step removed. He’s participating in the gig, he’s shaping it, but he’s not contributing more than he has to — which is less and less. Seems to believe it’s a conjuring trick … He’s going: ‘I’m becoming a perspective’.”
“Has he been on the alphabet soup again?”
“Man, he doesn’t know the recipe any more. It’s not the same. We got a different bag. All I’m saying is think about it.”
“I do. Every time you kick into It’s Only Rock’n’Roll and I have to sing ‘suicide right on stage’ I think about it. And you know what?”
“What’s that dude?”
“Sometimes I just wanna give you a good ole kick in the teeth.”
“Won’t make any difference man. They’re embedded like tombstones now.”
“Stop talking about tombstones.”
“Hey!”
“Yeah?”
“That’s the best thing you’ve said for years. Get yer harmonica out. There’s a song there. Stop Talkin’ ’Bout Tombstones. A walking blues.”
“It’ll be a staggering blues where you’re going.”
“It’ll be staggering because I’m a fuckin’ legend mate, that’s why.”
“What key’s it in motherfucker?”
