"Chicken Love" genre: Pop
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	CD: Greatest Hits (first album)   Label: Sunlight Credits: Shu Fly Pie
	Story Behind the Song COCKS AND HENS Everyone’s favourite poultry ballad, Chicken Love, hasn’t only brought joy to the world, peace on earth and an end to starvation and war. It has also been the cause of a friendship souring and years of acrimonious legal wrangling through various courts across the length and breasts of God’s damp globe. This is a story all about how the truth got twist turned upside down, I’d like to take a minute; just sit right there and I’ll tell you how this became such a bitter and twisted affair. The troubles began in Ireland. No not those troubles, I’m on about the chicken troubles. I think it is safe to say that Ireland has had more famous troubles in its time. Maybe that shall change. Now, I’m not trying to say that three friends arguing about a song about a chicken is more important than hundreds of years of conflict and famine and religious intolerance; it’s just that sometimes it would seem to be the case. It began innocently enough, with a group of friends aimlessly walking around in the rain. Actually they did have an aim. They were aiming for a nightclub. Present were Edward Thompson, Adrian Columb and Christopher “Wibbly Wobbly” Webster (Also present were Patrick Kaf and Damien Fingerpoke. But they didn’t do anything remarkable so we’ll forget they exist shall we? Good). Edward, Christopher and Adrian were collectively known as Children’s Instrument and were under commission at the time to write the musical drama “ExtravaGandhi” for a performance in two days time. Everything was ready for showtime except for the story, the costumes, the songs, the basic premise and the biscuits. Children’s Instrument were throwing around ideas in the glory of an Irish eve under a faintly glowing moon and the majestic, heavenly stars while it pissed down a load of rain. They started singing a song to keep morale up because Adrian had got them lost. It was a bland ballad that wasn’t really going anywhere until Mr Thompson ended a line with “…because you’re my chicken love”. It was to prove to be an inspired choice of editorial direction. He’s obviously a genius. Then Mr Adrian and The Wibbly Wobbler (Wobs) joined in. Mentioning cocks and rude stuff probably. Adrian was writing it all down in his little black book. When Wobs came out with the immortal line (complete with elbow gesture) “you’re my one and only bucket of love” the song was beginning to gather some kind of momentum and was taking some kind of shape. The boys came up with a winning melody quite effortlessly and not because they’d stolen it. It was a moment of inspiration that maybe defies description. So I won’t try and descript it. Describe it I mean. Oh dear, this paragraph isn’t going too well I hope the next one turns out okay. So when the boys got home three days later they got out the guitars and worked out the basic structure of the song. The song began to consume their lives. They let friendships wither and relationships fizzle out with a sudden pop. They barely did anything but work on the song day and night for the next day and night. They barely had time for 23 hours of socialising, 12 hours of sleep and 8 hours in front of the television before it was the next evening and time for the debut performance of ExtravaGandhi. ExtravaGandhi didn’t go very well. No one knows why. Maybe the public weren’t yet ready for a musical version of the little known argument between Adolf Hitler and Mahatma Gandhi about who loved a particular chicken the most. It’s actually an argument that most historians neglect to mention. So anyway, the public weren’t ready for our beloved Chicken Love. It was patently ahead of its time. Well Chicken Love survived that show (although the cast and crew barely did) but it was still incomplete. The next morning Edward Thompson was committed to an insane asylum constantly scribbling down revised script ideas and mumbling about feathers. If anyone mentioned chicken he would shake violently and sweat manfully until sedated. It’s thought that he became obsessed with trying to correct whatever it was that had gone wrong. Wobs became a heroin addict and did favours to sailors for fivers down at the docks. Occasionally he’d awake to the sight of children poking him with a stick and running away. They cruelly branded him Mr Chicken. His life had hit an all time low. And that’s saying something for Wobbler. He’s had a mouldy old life by anyone’s standards. Adrian flew out of town on the next plane seeking a bride in America. Well he was seeking a woman to become his bride. Not someone who already was a bride. Women are only a bride for one day at a time and have usually already found a groom by that stage. He didn’t want to intrude on another man’s property. Things didn’t look good for the band. 18 months later Edward sat up in bed, enquired about where he was and asked for a pencil. He wrote down the now famous bridge “I’ll ruffle your feathers…” had a shave, phoned a taxi and left the madhouse to rebuild his life in Edinburgh. He phoned Wobs and Adrian telling them he was invoking the four-day rule, stipulated in paragraph seven, verse two of The Children’s Instrument Founder Member’s Contractual Agreement Documentation Certificate. They had four days to drop whatever it was they were doing and convene for a band practice. Adrian was on his way with a child bride-to-be in tow within the minute. Wobs had been left holding the baby by a fickle sailor man. But he had to drop it because of the four-day rule, stipulated in paragraph seven verse two of The Children’s Instrument Founder Member’s Contractual Agreement Documentation Certificate. At the meeting Edward went through a detailed analysis of what went wrong with regards to ExtravaGandhi, vis-�-vis it being an unrivalled flop. He had specially commissioned pie charts be drawn up and everything. During the slide show Adrian turned to Chris and whispered “By Jove I think he’s got it” and Chris replied, “Spare any change guv?” So now the song was complete they all went out to celebrate on a ten-week bender, taking in all the local brothels, whorehouses, knocking shops and massage parlours. But one morning Edward and Chris woke up underneath a pile of painted ladies to discover that Adrian had left the country with the blueprints for the final version of Chicken Love. They spent the next year trying in vain to get Adrian extradited to face charges at the European Court of Human Rights, The Old Bailey and The Hague War Crimes Tribunal. But he avoided capture by marrying an American and obtaining a child. Oh and a green card. So ladies and gentlemen, let this be a warning to you. Never write a song about chickens with your friends. Or to put it another way, don’t mix friendship with pleasure. You have been warned. Notice. Lyrics Chicken Love You’re my one and only chicken You’re my one and only foul You’re my one and only bucket of love The one that I want now I met you in the coop about a year ago Your feathers so soft I just wanted to know If you and this cock could get it together Your my hen my bird of a feather KFC means nothing to me Paxo and Bisto make you more tasty I’d like to stuff you up and make you golden brown You’re the hen for me A breast man a leg man, I don’t care Golden brown, Juicy and bare Your giblets are lovely I wanna pluck You’re the hen for me I’ll ruffle your feathers anytime dear I’ll ruffle your feathers anytime dear I’ll ruffle your feathers through soft and stormy weathers I’ll ruffle your feathers anytime dear Recorded at Sunlight Studios by Stephen Merryweather. Words and music by Adrian Columb, Edward Thompson & Chris Webster. �2002.Columb, Thompson, Webster

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