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Kevin Bloody Wilson doesn’t give a f***

“Political correctness is a crock of shit,” says comedian Kevin Bloody Wilson.

Not exactly surprising words from the Aussie famous for less-than-PC songs like ‘Dilligaf’ (Do I Look Like I Give A F***) and ‘Do You F*** On First Dates?’

“What it does is it really stops people from using common sense,” he continues, as if we’re chatting over a round of beers in the local pub. “In my mind, common sense isn’t all that common anymore and political correctness itself is a contradiction in terms: if it’s political there’s a real good chance it isn’t f***ing correct,” he deadpans.

Forget Dr Phil. Wilson, your average Aussie bloke next door, tells it like it is.

“What you see is what you get,” explains the man born Dennis Bryant some 60 years ago. “I don’t actually study the art form of comedy – it’s just something that hopefully turns up.”

Although he’s on the line from Perth, I can almost see him lean in and give me a conspiratorial wink: “This is what I do, this is how I get it: I sit around with a handful of mates, get ’em all pissed, and f****ing steal all their material. That’s how it works.

“So don’t say anything funny,” he tells me, “because it will be in my show.”

Wilson, of course, is taking the piss. Since the ’70s the onetime music teacher, DJ, electrician (“I don’t even change f***ing globes anymore”) and white goods salesman has been building up quite a catalogue of comedy songs – either changing the lyrics to existing hits, or coming up with his own dirty ditties.

It began innocently enough. In the West Australian mining town of Kalgoorlie, he and his mates formed a serious band, playing serious cover versions.

“I suppose because of the combination of characters there we were never too f***ing serious,” he corrects me with a grin. “It was good music well played, but over the years I was nudged to the front of the stage – I used to play the bass and gradually became the frontman – and found that the decompositions of peoples’ songs were getting more reaction than the original versions of the song. I just followed that tack and turned it into what it is today.”

That would be a career of close on 30 years, highlighted by some 15 albums, laddish songs about beer/sex/women/swearing/farting/Santa Claus, and an outright ban by the same South African censors who put stars on the topless models in Scope magazine.

He laughs when I remind him of the ’80s censorship.

“Isn’t that different, how things have turned out? Here we are some 20-odd years later and we’ve got all this aggressive rap music about ‘kill the cops’ and ‘f*** your mother’ and all that. With the stuff that I do, there’s certainly swearing but it’s built around humour and not aggression.”

That humour might not be everybody’s cup of tea – or pint of Fosters lager – but the affable Wilson’s clearly just having a blast. Still.

“It’s certainly not hard,” he says of his career. “If it was hard I wouldn’t be doing it. I basically retired some 25 years ago from my real job, and I haven’t really worked a day since.”

  •  This article originally appeared on iafrica.com.

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