Telstar: The Joe Meek Story Page #3

- Getting your collar felt isn't marvellous.

- No-one felt your collar.

No, they get all black fingers.

I don't see how a brush with the law can be bad press for a band called The Outlaws. Can it, Geoff?

I don't know what anyone's talking about, or who anyone is.

Oh, really, Joe! Geoffrey, Billy Kuy, Mr Clem Cattini.

- And the smelly bastard's Chas Hodges.

- The Outlaws!

- This is Geoff, he wrote the song.

- Hope you like it.

- Oh, it's your song? Lovely!

- Thank you.

So you're not really cowboys?

- No.

- You want to watch him, he'll have you on top of a 19 bus with your pants round your ankles

if he thinks it'll shift a few records.

- Would he?

- Is that entirely necessary?

Last month, when we released Swing Low as a single?

Joe had us in all the clobber, on a f***ing stagecoach,

driving around Piccadilly, blasting out the tune.

Then he turns around, and says, "I know, why don't we stick up the HMV and nick our own record!"

We burst in, these two cowards f*** off!

I'm left there, with a cap gun up the counter girl's hooter like The Lone Wanker.

Marvellous press!

- Yet, but guess what?

- Never even heard of us.

I had to play the racket to the desk sergeant to keep you out of prison!

Now, all of you change out of these outfits immediately!

Coo-ey! Joe?

Joe, look! Oh, hello, boys!

Afternoon, Mrs Jensen, all right?

- Lovely shirts. Don't you look smart?

- Thanks.

- You're all wet. Should have used a brolly.

ALL:
Cowboys didn't have brollies.

Now, look. I know you're busy, but I've got a bone to pick with you, and you.

What have you done to my windows?

My stock room ceiling's all black and treacly, and Mr Brolin's downstairs in his pyjamas.

- He says you swore at him.

- He started it!

- Pardon?

- He yelled at me, and I yelled back.

I can't repeat in front of these young boys the type of filthy language he was using.

That's what a recording studio is for, is it?

Give you two the chance to play silly buggers and scare my neighbours?

He's ever so upset, he works shifts!

Yeah, don't we all! Shut up!

- If he can't take it, he shouldn't dish it out.

- Yeah, well, what about my ceiling?

That's why your ceiling is all black and treacly,

cos I poured a tin of liquid rubber through the floorboards. For soundproofing.

Soundproofing, you see! It's for the greater good.

Gave me ever such a stir. It's all gone runny, and there's flies sticking to it.

Don't fret, Violet, dear. We'll have someone pop round and rub that rubber off.

But it will have to be later on.

I do have a major television star, John Leyton, coming round any second now.

As you can see, I'm rushed off my feet.

Him off Biggles? Now I understand. Yes, sorry. I thought you were a bit soft.

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