Infinite Critique

Hello, Kevin Clooney here, roadie to the stars.

I’m booked to tour with po-faced progressive rockers Radiohead in the summer. I need the dosh but I’m not really looking forward to it - I’d rather be at home racing my pigeons. There are other reasons: their amps are too big, the guitarist is always telling crap jokes about women’s private areas, and that wonky-eyed singer Thom Yorke is always swearing at the younger members of the road crew and playing crap practical jokes on them. And he once tried to chat up my girlfriend Donna backstage at the Astoria but she was having none of it. ‘You’re crap,’ she told him.

I was with them the other day when they surprised a small crowd of competition winners by playing a set that leaned heavily on their ok third album OK Computers during a specially arranged BBC concert. They were ok. I’m glad they mostly played their old songs, though – they’re so much better than the stuff on their new album Over The Rainbows. That’s crap.