He has started a pizza-themed Velvet Underground cover band with a group of New York hipster idiots (sorry, an art collective)
If I’d become a millionaire before I was 10, by now I’d be living in a candy cane house dressed like Baby Jane, surrounded by Gloworms and Cabbage Patch Dolls, taking out Wonga loans to fund my Dib Dab habit. So, by some measure, Macaulay Culkin hasn’t done badly.
Sure, there was that time he was arrested with weed; the Michael Jackson era; the period living in Paris with Pete Doherty in a Baudelaire meets Peter Pan wonderland. But until recently there was no definitive sign he had cracked — or succumbed to the nightmare it must be growing up as millennials’ answer to Shirley Temple.
But now he has broken. He has started a pizza-themed Velvet Underground cover band with a group of New York hipster idiots (sorry, an art collective). They recently began a European tour before calling it off after a few gigs; so I went to see them, natch.
When Culkin appears — a midget Kurt Cobain — flashing iPhones surge to the front of the gig, as kids fight to get the best footage of the former Home Alone star for YouTube. He’s dressed in a black leather jacket and sunglasses, a pop star simulacrum. So is most of his band, except one girl in red sequins, a balaclava and bunny ears who looks like a Pussy Rioter.
They start by handing out pizzas, which people grab, presumably not to eat but sell on eBay. They tell pizza jokes (“How is the pizza-delivery man like a gynaecologist? They can smell it but they cannot taste it”). Then they start slaughtering Velvet Underground tracks by sprinkling them with pizza references. Sample lyric: “It’s such a pizza day/I’m glad I spent it with you.” Another sample lyric: “Here she comes/better watch your slice/she’s your pizza girl/better lock your door/ or just order more”.