THE BEAT GOES ON
LOS ANGELES—Ian Dury was lounging in the back of Rodney Bingenheimer's old Cadillac, juggling a shopping bag full of trinkets from Frederick's of Hollywood, while reminiscing about a youth misspent behind the walls of a British cuckoo's nest.
THE BEAT GOES ON
DEPARTMENTS
Ian Dury Scuttles Out Of The Cuckoo's Nest
LOS ANGELES—Ian Dury was lounging in the back of Rodney Bingenheimer's old Cadillac, juggling a shopping bag full of trinkets from Frederick's of Hollywood, while reminiscing about a youth misspent behind the walls of a British cuckoo's nest.
"I saw the results of lobotomies for 4V2 years when I was locked up," he said in a thick East End accent. "Not the pretty sight. They let in old age pensioners and children half price . We English make provision for the handicapped, you see.
"Do ya remember the Battersea Dum Dums?" Ian asked his entourage, which included a pleasant chap from NME, and the ubiquitous Kosmo Vinyl, Ian's press aide-de-camp and first mate (he can be heard MCing Stiffs Live).
"The Dum Dums were quite the operation," Ian continued. "An early set of Teds, from '53. Thirteen brothers and one sister, all deaf and dumb. They used to corner one cop, kick 'im round and stick him down a manhole. They'd leave 'is hat on the cover so the other bobbies could find 'im."