"Not speaking has never been my bag," said the forty-something bad boy in his carefully-practised cockney. "Giving it the verbals is how I've always been victorious over the middle-class ponces who control Radio 3. It's the bollock, mate. Aston Villa supporters are the most vocal in the world."

The ageing punk went on to slam the Piano Man's dress sense: "No way would I be seen in a black suit, and definitely not a soaking-wet one. I get my jackets from an authentic klezmer tailor in Krakow, next door to where I rehearse with my authentic klezmer band. It's the proper bollock."

As further proof, Kennedy pointed to the limited repertoire and "lack of bollock" of the mystery man who plays the piano for four hours at a stretch. "Yeah, he knows the classics," he conceded, "but he lacks the spontaneity of your true original. I've appeared unannounced at pubs in Evesham and played Ravel's Tzigane while totally shit-faced on authentic Worcestershire scrumpy. I've nailed the bollock the same way Villa did in the return leg against Middlesbrough. Biff. Bosh. Sorted. Your so-called Piano Man is a mile behind on that front. Does he know any Mali rhythms, for instance? Or samba? Or ever improvise around the Aeolian scales of the Inuit? Has he ever done a gig with Linton Kwesi Johnson, or trashed a hotel room? I think not."

Former investigative reporters Edward Woodward and Elmer Bernstein of the Washington Post lent their support to Kennedy's denial. "He wasn't the source," Bernstein said. "Deep Throat was never that kind of pretentious dickhead. The Kennedys were never part of it."

In a What Not to Wear special, Trinny and Susannah will be clearing out the Piano Man's wardrobe. "No one's wearing wet clothes anymore," said Trinny. "Even wet-suits are dry this year."

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Story © 2005 Des Montpellier. Design and construction © 2005 utterpants.co.uk / A070605