Perhaps they were amused by the references to dancing and radio, neither of which fields is exactly synonymous with Jones. But Walsh's words set the tone for the evening.
We were here to listen to a hymn of praise to Jones's sheer versatility, and to titter at quite rude words (although nothing worthy of inclusion in the Roy Keane Lexicon of Filth).
Jones's lengthy recollections of his formative years included reminiscences about his countryside upbringing, in case we were puzzled to have seen him on the Liberty and Livelihood March. After that, he revealed he has a "phobia about dying". Jones is unusual like that, you see.
Then he got on to some dull anecdotes about "his A-list celebrity friends", including "Bob" Duvall and "Nic" Cage. There was also a lot of unexplained talk about tans.
Later it emerged that that this was nothing to do with sunbathing, but rather the pet name for Jones's wife. Tanya? Tansy? Who knows? Total familiarity with Jones's life was assumed as a given.
Much time was spent bemoaning Jones's treatment in "the press", wondering why Jones is depicted therein as a "hardman".
Their musings were punctuated without irony by clips from his celluloid efforts, each of which featured him bludgeoning someone into unconsciousness. After that Walsh was keen that we should know what a kindly fellow Jones really is, in evidence of which Jones recalled brightening the life of a chap who had lost his legs in an accident by giving him a budgie.
"I know you've done that a lot," said Walsh. So now we know. Jones regularly donates budgies to men with no legs.
"Brilliant stuff," beamed Walsh. "I admire you. It's fabulous. I'm chuffed. I'm proud of you. You're an inspiration to us all."
Donate budgies to men with no legs, at www.flyingmusic.com, where you can also find box office numbers for all the dates on the tour.
