Gordon in the morning: Classical gas

The online version of Bizarre kicks off this morning with classical music.

Yes, classical music. Philip Case turns in a report on the Classical Brits, which will probably delight the organisers.

Yes, I'm sure. It's classical. In fact, so unlikely is the idea of The Sun giving a second violin about classical music, Gordon Smart contributes a signed piece to reassure readers that it's alright:

WHY the sudden interest in classical music?

Well, they rhyme with Brits and get fellas showing a remarkable understanding of French Horn.

So gents, get down to an opera house to sample some delightful musical AND physical arrangements if you want to meet stunners in Bach-less dresses.

It would be a Verdi wise move if you ask me.

He actually wrote that. It came out of his head, he typed it in, and then published on the Wall Street Journal's sister site. French horn.

I do love the idea of a Sun reader seeing Gordon's advice and turning up at the Welsh National Opera with a hopeful grin and a box of tissues. Actually, I don't love it.

Philip Case's report is just as bad:

MYLEENE KLASS puts the woodwind up the fuddy-duddy world of classical music — arriving at an awards bash last night in this sizzling gown.

Actually, that's unfair to Case. Smart would have used woodwind in an erection gag.

Doubtless there are people at the Classical Brits who will feel that having musicians treated as wank-fodder will be good for the profile of the event and the music it promotes. But "actually, some people who like classical music are quite pretty" is such a toxic message for so many reasons.

But it's not like the music didn't get a look in at all:

In the past the frocks on the do’s red carpet have sometimes been as gloomy as Bach’s famous Toccata and Fugue in D Minor.

Why is the word "famous" in there? Obviously, yes, it is famous, but that does suggest that the word "famous" is redundant; if you need to be told it's famous, then that would suggest you don't know the piece so what would be the point anyway? It's not like Bach produced numerous Toccata and Fuges, most of which are quite jolly, apart from the one everyone knows.

Elsewhere, Gordon is surprised to hear Eminem got help from Elton John:

SIR ELTON JOHN is the Queen of bitching, the master of extravagance and one of the finest songwriters Britain has ever produced.

One thing I never thought would appear beside those CV highlights is the role of drug counsellor to top hip-hop stars.

EMINEM has confessed that Sir Elt is the unlikely character responsible for helping him conquer his drug demons.

I've been impressed before with Smart's willingness to go into print revealing that he apparently doesn't really know very much about the entertainment industry at all - like here, showing that he's apparently unaware that Elton often tries to help guide younger stars from repeating his expensive, miserable mistakes of overindulgence.

Kennedy mopes at Brits ban

Nigel Kennedy - effectively Jamie Oliver with a fiddle - is doing his best to bring some of the made-up turmoil of the rock Brits to the sister classical Brit awards.

He's got the hump because he's been dropped from the running order after inviting Bond (yes, they're still going, too) to play with him:

The Brighton-born violinist said he originally planned to perform Mozart or Beethoven but was told by organisers that his performance must last around the same length as a pop song.

When he suggested playing jazz instead, he said the idea was also rejected.

He eventually settled on a gypsy violin piece Czardas, by Vittorio Monti, but after two days of rehearsals with Bond, he was told they had not been approved as performers by the organisers.

Kennedy claims rival record companies on the Brits committee had made the decision because they were "threatened by me" which could "only be taken as a compliment".

"I was looking forward to this because it had become clear that this was going to be one of my best performances, not just musically but as a visual TV spectacle as well," he said.

Ah, yes, the visual television spectacle. A bloke with a thinning punky haircut and four women in low-cut evening gowns. Whatever has the world been denied?

We're intrigued by the idea that three minutes of Nigel Kennedy is, in some way, a threat to record labels - how, exactly, does that fear manifest itself? Are the classical labels worried that a spot of Nigel on his violin will render all other classical music obsolete? Or has a rumour started that Kennedy has the power to shoot lasers from his eyes?