Once upon a time (around 1984 I think), a typical everyday garden variety Aussie named Dennis Bryant, who wasn’t an altogether dreadful country music singer, decided to turn his hand to a bit of politically incorrect comedy. He renamed himself Kevin Wilson, added a “bloody” between the Kevin and the Wilson and became Kevin Bloody Wilson and made a cassette recording of a bunch of obscenity riddled songs. As he gigged his way around Western Australia, he managed to flick 22,000 copies of the cassette fondly entitled: “Your Average Australian Yobbo” which was later released as an LP and sold thousands more.
He was indeed the quintessential Aussie yobbo as he dealt to “sacred” subjects like what it was like to deal with Telecom Australia, farting for Australia (a parody on the wind needed for the Americas Cup), and rounding on Santa for not delivering the bike ordered for Christmas.
After cussing his way around Australia, Wilson eventually cussed his way across the Tasman and sold out concerts all over New Zealand.
Not a bad effort given that his records, for pretty obvious reasons, never did get any airplay and of course there was no internet or Youtube back then to deliver an instant viral audience, to pretty much any junk that tickled the fancy of the demented or uncouth.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting for one moment that Wilson is demented. But uncouth? Guilty. Absolutely and completely. And bloody good on him. He’s made a healthy career out of laughing at himself, his country, people who take themselves far too seriously and the world at large and dammit, he’s managed to do “offensive” without really sounding offensive. He was and still is incredibly funny (WARNING: Personal opinion – not tested as fact).
Why am I suddenly writing about Kevin Bloody Wilson today? Well might you ask. I did. Let me try and join the dots.
I was in a large shopping mall in Auckland over the weekend and was subjected to an instant reminder of why I loathe Christmas so much. We’re six weeks out and the cursed Christmas songs are playing through those horrid, tinny speakers in the malls. If that on its own isn’t bad enough, Snoopy’s Christmas – yet again for the hundred millionth time. Well, I thought of Wilson’s Santa Claus song (never hear that in the shopping malls – go on Westfield – I dare ya!) and with Snoopy’s Christmas ringing in my ears, I rather wanted to take the entire sound system, find the mall manager and tell him where to shove it (not unlike Wilson’s telephone song if you must know). So that’s how it happened and here we are.
Now 72, he’s still going strong with a hell of a sense of humour and still taking the proverbial out of anything and everything that deserves it – and let’s face it – don’t we all need a good laugh more than ever these days?
And the headline? Well, he does (make fun of Donald Trump). Unlike the dickhead US late night TV show comics, he’s funny and light hearted and a good laugh. I’m sure even Donald would have a laugh.