It’s that time of year when I like to sit back, relax, and look back at the musical year.
Unfortunately, it’s hard to focus when you’re giggling incessantly at Madonna taking a tumble at the Brits owing to her well-publicised cape ‘malfunction’.
We shouldn’t laugh at the old girl – it may be her advancing years but she seems to be getting grumpier by the day. Recently she annoyed fans by coming onstage in Manchester an hour late (a video malfunction) and then abused said fans (who may have paid well over £100 per ticket) for having the temerity to complain, in terms much too strong for a family newspaper. And then blaming the Glasgow promoters for not being allowed to do an encore (turns out it was her own roadcrew that unplugged her, perhaps the same ones that fitted her cape). She’s also referring to herself as “The Queen” in the third person, which could indicate many personality disorders, including one where she believes she’s still relevant.
You’d imagine that being – still – known by her one name would be enough for her – Kylie is similarly eponymous, but “Cheryl” for me is still the one on the right out of Buck’s Fizz. But with stars like these now tabloid and telly fodder, it’s a sure sign that pop has truly entered the mainstream.
Indeed, it’s only a matter of time before (please god) Adele gives up the caterwauling and takes over in the Queen Vic. For now, she leads an unprecedented rise of UK artists across the globe and particularly in the USA. The Cockernee singing superstar is aided and abetted by One Direction who – despite shedding a stressed-out Zayn – have soldiered on masterfully. The departed one on the left, meanwhile, has taken care to emphasise that there was definitely nothing of a slightly, er, you know… whisper it, gay nature going on between the remaining members of the band. Just in case anyone had been wondering, like. Oh, they hadn’t? Ah well. As you were, then.
My favourite actual headline of the year has to be “Lenny Kravitz accused of running illegal Bahamas dental surgery” in the NME – sadly the story wasn’t quite as interesting as it seemed, but perhaps indicative of how far the now-freesheet has strayed from the world of alternative sounds. Once upon a time, Keane West would have been consigned to the tabloid gossip columns thanks to his Kardashian connections (and less-than-stellar recent releases), but it’s another indication of how far music has reached into the real world. Though with the messianic rapper headlining Glastonbury – amid a twitterstorm to rival Dylan going electric – we can hardly blame the former music bible for getting its wires crossed.
Justin Bieber on the cover is quite another matter though. Still, if your readership picks up your publication in the bus station, it’s more likely to end up hanging in the loo rather than kept for posterity in the loft.
