Hey, Sam Cutler. Still in New York?
“Terrible place, just dreadful. Calls itself th’ Greatest City in th’ World, dunnit? Like, have they heard of London? Rome? I would lay a quid that 99% of the people here never heard of Rome.”
I’m pretty sure everyone’s heard of Rome, Sam.
“Just bollocks, innit? Greatest city. Appalling. Only one thing worse than New York City.”
And that is?
“Whatever th’ fuck it was I got dragged to last night. A disgrace. Do you know what I saw? A little fat man in a frock, a ginger, a substitute teacher, and a Jimmy Saville impersonator.”
You’re talking about Phish.
“Phlush. Phlop. Phoul.”
Well, you should’ve stayed for the second set.
“I should’ve lit the buildin’ on fire. They’d knight me for improving the gene pool. It was ‘orrible, just ‘orrible. They had the audacity to play a blues number. A twelve-bar! One bar would ‘ave been enough for me, but they insisted on playing all twelve. A blues number. Now, son, you answer me question. And I ask this without having looked into it meself. That singer, he’s from Connecticut, isn’t he?”
He actually is.
“I could smell it! And an acapella tune? One should be able to sing if one does so without accompaniment.”
Wait, hold on. The Dead sang acapella and it was always a mess.
“They did it at the end of the show, me lad. They ‘ad built up a reservoir of goodwill by then. They didn’t open the evening with three minutes of tedious caterwauling.”
“An’ you’ll notice that when I managed the Dead, they didn’t do that closing number all too much.”
Did you say something?
“Every time! I would be subtle, I would. They’d get off stage and I’d say to ’em, ‘You lot shouldn’t do that song cuz you can’t fuckin’ sing.’ Subtle.”
“I cannot emphasize enough how bloody unpleasant it was t’ look at the drummer.”
Didn’t you enjoy any of it?
“The spicy chicken sandwich was spot-on. Top marks for the sandwich. Me and me mates went through a dozen.”
Who’d you go with?
“You met Sleepy Batman.”
Regrettably. What’d he think?
“Slept through it.”
“An’ I brought some of me old mates from the Hells Angels.”
What? Oh, no. When you bring Hells Angels to concerts, things end badly.
“It was perfectly safe, son. The Hells Angels stab black people, an’ this was a Phish concert.”
Can’t argue with that. What now?
“There’s a geezer down the block dressed like some sort of muppet, an’ I’m gonna dose ‘im.”
Never change, Sam Cutler.
“Bit late to do that, innit?”