primitive ringmaster here. Withgroaning gargles from his bearded maw hetells us of the beasts and paints their likenesses with granite slabs from his guitar.These dense strata of verse and tone inspireParker and give his lungs the wind to breathe such vivid life into his Cocky cast.
A looming vagueness is a pleasurable pain
Now, as the autumn of this episodic process becomes winter, the debt to metal becomesexplicit. Fit the Fifth is called
.Not only does this describe the rodent mashon which the fit converges; it is also thename of an instrumental on Black Sabbath’s
. The track is dark and jaunty likethe rat and when the drums go solo it feelslike a fury of furry bludgeoning. With this brief wink at Ozzy’s boys, Parker seems to besaying that riffs and rolls, while not hisstock in trade, are a nice little earner on theside.Now the shiny steel has been exposed.Hereafter it will stay on show. Expect moremetal in
. And if that’s not your cup of tea or aftershave, it will be.
The author of
The Ballad of Cocky the Fox
and the editor of
are known toenjoy a chinwag over a pint. In each edition,
eavesdrops on their beery blathering and presents a randomly chosenchunk of it to the readership.
I know you own a cat…
Yes. Kenmore the cat.
Right. Kenmore the cat. Andyet you portrayed French Edward as a bit of an annoying ponce. At least, that’s how I saw it. And you killed him off so soon after introducing him.
On the other hand, you don’town a dog. And yet I see Otto as thisimmaculately dressed, fearsome hard nut.Like an East End bad boy in the DaveCourtney mould.
Hmm. Maybe. Otto is posh,though.
That’s true. Anyway, thereseems to be this cano-feline discrepancy between life and art. Any thoughts on whereit might have come from? Why do you think you killed off Edward?
Well, I definitely don’t wantto see my cat eaten by rodents. I love my cat.It was actually Josh’s idea to do away withEdward.
Wow. OK. So Josh doesn’tlike your cat, then?
Right. He’s not into cats atall. He’s never had one in his life, I don’tthink. He’s very much a dog man. Anyway, Iwas talking through some ideas and I keptgoing on about how I envisaged FrenchEdward’s owner calling for him. And Joshsaid: “Something about that makes me think that Edward is dead. The plaintive, loving