Hello again, Kevin Clooney here, top roadie.
I happened to be out on the town in London the other night when the première for the new Rolling Stones movie by Martin Scorsese, Shine Your Light, was taking place in Leicester Square. I’ve never seen so many bad rock haircuts and tight black jeans.
I like the Stones, they’re not bad – some of their later stuff is crap but mostly they’re okay. I was part of the road crew once when they played at Wembley years ago. I bumped into Mick Jagger’s bolshy daughter Bianca backstage and she asked me if I knew where the toilets were. Said she needed to powder her nose. She was just getting in the way, really. Typical woman, they shouldn’t allow them backstage, I reckon. Just get in the way.
At the première, I tried to attract old wrinkly-face Keith Richard’s attention as he staggered down the red carpet but he couldn’t really hear me, not with all the screaming fans and everything. I’m sure he would’ve remembered me though. My girlfriend Donna once suggested to him that he should try using botox once in a while. She’s like that, my Donna, always very helpful.
One thing I did notice was Mick Jagger’s clothes – very smart, always well turned out that one. Not like that Liam Gallagher who was there with his wife Patsy Kensit (or was it Noel? I can never remember which is which, Liam or Noel, so I just call them both ‘Linoleum’ whenever I’m working for Oasis, it’s easier to remember) and he was a right scruffy git as always. His denims were full of holes. Could do with a make-over that one, I reckon, or ask Mick for some tips. Remember, Liam: a Rolling Stone gathers no moths. He’s ok though.