Cedric from TFI Friday Interview

An informal chat with the one and only CEDRIC (yes, he of TFI fame) sitting on the cloakroom counter of  Le Palais (Hammersmith), soaking up the vibes whilst waiting for Ian Brown to perform.

Virtual Festivals: So what's it like being the most famous and instantly recognisable bloke here?

Cedrick: You wouldn't guess! I can't walk down the street at 4am.

[I got the impression here that Cedric does actually make something of a habit of wandering London streets in the wee small hours - he's got that sort of face]

... without people shouting at me like an old friend. Even the police know me! It's bad enough the normal people recognise me without the likes of them.

[Clearly years of contact with the police must have led our Cedric to the conclusion that the world segments into two distinct types of people - 'normal' ones like you, me and the bloke with no arse in his trousers and a pencil up his nose - and then the others... the police]

We were interrupted at this point as Cedric proved his point by being set upon by packs of fans eager to shake his hand, touch the hem of his garments or just generally suplicate themselves before their idol. They thought they had bought tickets to see Ian Brown, but now they could turn around and go home, happy in the knowledge that they had just brushed with greatness. Much flesh was pressed and photos were taken.

VF: So don't you get tired of all that business?

C: Hey, no, it's okay really, anyone's got the right to take a picture. It's the autographs I can't do with. You do one and there's a queue around the block.

Fortunately our Ed. (Steve) had used my last polaroid the day before. Otherwise I had been going to get one taken of me and Cedric so that he could sign it - that could have been the end of a very short chat.

VF: Maybe you ought to start a little sideline - I'm sure people would pay for the privilege?

C: Not a bad idea - how about you manage me? We could try for £1 a time.

VF: Don't undersell yourself here

A further timely interruption from three lads with a disposable camera gave us the opportunity to try it on.

Lad: It IS you, isn't it! Any chance of a photo?

C: No, it's not me I'm his cousin I'm a spitting image pupet Anyway, you'll have to speak with my manager.

VF: Okay, well it's £5 for the initial fee, and that gives you the rights to one photo. Every shot after that will cost you another £1. (Cedric, how does a 10% management cut sound to you?)

Lad: Uuuurm.

VF: Oh, hell, its okay, we'll give you this one on the house - you've got a nice smile {wink}.

Lad: Uuuurm okay fine thanks {Click} cheers bye!

C: {Laugh} We had him nervous for a minute there

VF: Hey, we almost had him putting his hand in his pocket - there might be something in this after all! Still, if you want to hide you could always lose the beard?

C: It don't work - I shaved my hair and cut the beard right back to stubble before Christmas and people still knew me!

VF: It's that sort of face So anyway Cedric, what are you doing here tonight anyway?

C: To see my friend Ian, what else? You never know your luck - I might even do a turn with him later on! And it's a good night - I hear it's sold out.

VF: I did hear someone offering tickets at half price outside.

C: Them guys are rogues - they ought to be banned.

VF: I think this was just someone who'd bought too many, but yeah, I know what you mean. By the way, speaking of rogues, what's that Evans bloke like then?

C: Him, ah, he's a crook!

VF: You reckon he might have touted a few tickets when he was a kid then do you?

C: It wouldn't surprise me

At this point we were interrupted again - this time by a request that we check in a young girls coat and bag. For one second I thought Cedric was actually going to take it - maybe he really does need the money? After pointing out her mistake and redirecting her, we were then asked the way to the gents twice in quick succession. This only goes to show that despite what Chris Evans seems to think it would seem that the whole world was not looking in every Friday night