“I take my hat right off to the busker man”

There are two ways of viewing this lyric by unambitious bottom-feeders The View.

One is metaphorical. The band are taking their hats off to the busker man out of respect. Which is understandable in a way. Not only do the View sound horribly like a busker who has taught himself to play using only an old Cornershop single and a copy of C86, but all buskers are cunts, and so too are the View. So this might be a warm fraternal greeting from cunt to cunt.

You, dear reader, might worry at the thought of the British Public putting a band in the Top 5 who think of themselves on the same level as – or perhaps a respectful rung or two below – the busking profession. You might even consider it a dreadful nightmare from which you thrash and sweat to awake. But nothing shocks me any more.

Besides, I take comfort in the second reading of the lyric. Which is of the View taking their hat off to the busker man literally, and the busker interpreting it as an attempt to muscle in on his pitch, and beating the View mercilessly about the head and arms with his guitar. Until it breaks. Or they do.

(Oh, and if they think its impressive to wear the same jeans for four days, may I invite them to my special shoe shop? I will fit them with some shoes which they will be able to wear for eternity. Or at least until someone drains the Thames and removes their concrete boots.)