Man loses hair as he gets older - front pages held; presses stopped

Somebody called Glenn Hadley has somehow squeezed an entire article out of a photo of Stevie Wonder where it looks like he might now have no hair.

But there's a twist in the story (if you can call it a story) as:

Even though Stevie Wonder appears bald from certain angles, he still has his locks in a ponytail towards the back of his head.

So in short, the article on The Inquisitr is:

Is Stevie Wonder bald?
Yes, if you don't look at his ponytail

Coming tomorrow:

Is there any point to The Inquisitr?
No, if you don't look at the mess of ads sold round its non-stories

World Cup of Soccer: Theme time

The great thing about the World Cup being in Brazil is the massive range of options this offers the BBC for choosing a theme tune.

Who have they gone with? Seu Jorge? Nação Zumbi? Maria Rita?

Oh, man, I bet they've gone with Maria Rita. Imagine kicking off every Match of the Day with this:

But it's so difficult to choose. So many great local artists. So many distinctive local genres and sub-genres. How do you choose one to drench your Brazilian soccer coverage in a sense of place?

What have you chosen, BBC?

Stevie Wonder's song Another Star will provide the theme tune for the BBC's Fifa World Cup coverage.

The song, with its Latin American vibe, will be used as the opening sequence for all of the BBC's World Cup programmes for Brazil 2014.

Ah, yes. How better to get a "Latin American vibe" than by approaching someone from Michigan?

I suppose Brazil only has itself to blame. If just one of its artists had ever produced a single track which sounded even half-way as Latin American, they'd probably have been in with a shot of providing a tune for the event.

Perhaps it's elaborate social commentary from BBC Sport, reflecting how the World Cup has seen Brazilians shoved aside to make room for multinational brands to make money off of soccer.

The BBC is keen to stress the sort-of-historic significance of 'man licences track to broadcaster':

It is the first time the musician, 64, has given his approval for one of his songs to be used in this way.

Perhaps that's true, but this is the man who supplied the entire soundtrack for The Woman In Red, so let's not pretend opening with a Wonder song is automatically a blessing for all involved.

You, YouTube & The Music revisited

Robin Carmody just pointed out that out of three great music moments in a 2006 post, the only one remaining active was a Jam appearance which is such awful quality it's unlikely even Weller could identify himself in the clip.

This calls for a revisit.

So... here's a rebuilt version, this time with embeds.

First, here's Britney Spears doing Toxic on Blue Peter:


Some classic 'point camera at TV' work there.

As a bonus, here's Britney doing I Was Born To Make You Happy on BP:


Next up, Stevie Wonder doing Superstition. On Sesame Street:


And, finally, once again, it's The Jam on Tiswas. Think of it as a Public Information Film about the risks of video tape degradation:

Stevie Wonder sting stopped

Two people were, apparently, trying to blackmail Stevie Wonder. They've been arrested and charged, but Reuters points out some details are missing from the story:

The District Attorney's spokeswoman declined to comment on the nature or details of the alleged extortion plot.

Yeah, generally, if you've gone to the trouble of stopping someone being blackmailed, it'd be unlikely you'd go 'they were going to tell people that he wasn't really blind' or whatever, are you?

The illustrated Friends: Stevie Wonder

He has made enough missteps during his career to have tripped uplesser men - anytime Paul McCartney started faxing him ideas; the Woman In Red soundtrack; I Just Called To Say I Love You; enough mawkish sentiment to water a Tory minister's lawn with tears. But he's still Stevie Wonder.

Here's a two-for-one, as he's joined by Ray Charles for a stomping Living For The City:



[Part of the illustrated Friends]

Michael Jackson remembered: That was easy

Well, the one inarguable thing about today's event was that Staples could never have imagined naming rights for that building was going to succeed in pulling down so much worldwide advertising.

I'll bet, though, there's someone in a Staples Marketing Office who's spent the week trying to get the name changed to something with even more of a sales message - The Five-For-Four Gel Pens At Staples Arena, perhaps.

If you set aside the creepy and pointless dragging out of some random kid from Britain's Got Talent to speak on behalf of "everybody" in the world - like Torchwood in reverse - and the actually quite affecting (and totally inappropriate) wheeling on of the kids to try and push a cynical marketing exercise beyond criticism, what this memorial really did was to ease a world's tight shoes. For the last week and a half, it's been trumpeted almost every time a newsreader sat down that Jackson was the greatest performer in the world. And most of us have sat there thinking "well... no, but..." desperately trying to recall a name that trumped him. One that everyone would agree on, obviously - I mean, Harvey from Another Sunny Day might be demonstrably better, but would not be a convincing answer for a pub debate.

Stevie Wonder. Smokey Robinson.

The tips of our tongue have been relieved of two unquestionable answers.

Interestingly, Stevie Wonder also was a child star who had to overcome enormous odds. And made some dreadful records, too, it's fair to say - especially when he rolled out his social conscience. Don't Drive Drunk, anyone? But Wonder has managed to not retreat into chimpanzee-befriending sideshow attention-seeking and has, with his campaigning on Aids and MLK Day, made a genuine and measurable difference to the world. Yet, despite all that, it's unlikely the BBC will clear a channel for live coverage of his send off.

Jermaine Jackson off Big Brother got to do a song, too; he wore a single glove, in a touching tribute to Lily Allen's Glastonbury outfit. It's always the single glove, isn't it? Wouldn't you have loved it if Usher had turned up made up like a zombie. As a tribute.

The speakers veered between the sort of anecdotes that would get jeered at a Fred Flinstone roast (Brooke Shields' memories of having laugh-offs are the sort of memories which are best enjoyed by those who were there) and the completely overstated. Al Sharpton can't help himself, I know, but you'd have hoped for better from the Luther King Kids. But no, they continued to add to the overwrought "he was the King Of Pop" gushing - proving, I suppose, that a pair of Kings can't beat a royal flush.

The oddest note was when some sportsbloke - Magic Johnson from basketball and sponsored shoes - proudly trilled that the Guinness Book Of Records had an entry for Jackson being the pop star who supported the most charities. Is that a real category? Is there a similar record for the basketball player who supports the most charities? Is there some sort of rule about how much they have to give, or could one of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs take the record by slipping ten cents in every collecting box in every newsagents in London?

The claims that he was a great, charitable man were somewhat undermined by the grandiose television special marking his passing; any last veracity in claims to put others before himself probably vanished when the gold-plated coffin came back in to shot.

Gordon in the morning: Faustian pacts and angry lesbians

Perhaps its Euro 2008 or something, but today, again, the actually-kind-of-interesting story which leads Bizarre in the Sun has been pushed down the page of the online edition to make space for a bunch of stories about footballers - or, more accurately, photos of people who have sex with footballers wearing bikinis. Or, in the case of Wayne Rooney, a photoshopped image of what he'd look like in a mankini for a joke, like:

WAYNE ROONEY’s pals plan to make him wear a MANKINI as a stag party stunt.

The group think it will be the “right kind of gag” after fianceé COLEEN MCLOUGHLIN banned them from more saucy fun and games.

They will squeeze the Manchester United star into a £9.95 copy from cult comedy Borat at their villa in Ibiza.

Yes, if I'd not wanted sex-games, I'd be relieved that all his male friends are going to do is strip all his clothes off and then squeeze his cock and balls into a tight little swimsuit.

Incidentally, in what way was Borat a cult comedy? The comedy is debatable, but a movie which took getting on for three hundred million dollars at the cinema is hardly a cult, is it?

Still, while Gordon on the web is padded out with this sort of lame fare, the newspaper versions chooses to lead with the more obviously headline worthy regrets of Nick Godwyn. Who he? He's the bloke who signed up Amy Winehouse to Simon Fuller's management company in the first place:

“What is happening now is not very pleasant for anybody to watch. I feel she seems to be sad.

“People talk about wasted talent, but I don’t look at it like that. If Amy never made another record again it would be sad, but it’s less about the music for me and more about ‘this is a human being that maybe isn’t very happy’.”

On the other hand, had she not had such a high profile, she might have easily still developed a crack habit unsurrounded by those with an emotional or financial interest in trying to keep her alive. A lot of people don't even have massive talent to wager on the outcome of their addictions.

The story on Gordon's page is a little undermined, though, by halfway through deciding it's going to be about Stevie Wonder instead.

Finally, given that Kate Moss has happily done more photoshoots naked than with clothes on, why on earth is Smart so excited at getting a photo where you can almost make out her nipples through her top?

Wonder tours

Apparently, Stevie Wonder is gearing up to announce his first tour in twenty years. Which can only mean he's heard that he's been forgiven by the angry mobs for Ebony and Ivory.

That's not true, Stevie. McCartney doesn't know any better, but you should have stopped it, Stevie. You could have made sure it never happened.

Give me back my Give Me Back My Heart

As our thoughts turn to Valentine's Day, what, you might find yourself wondering, is the 69th best love song ever?

Happily, the New York Daily News can help you out, there. It's Vision of Love, by Mariah Carey.

At least, that's according to their 100 Greatest Love Songs of all time. Not sexiest, they're quick to stress - this isn't about wrapping yourself in naked, getting chained to the wall while your naked arse is spanked to within an inch of steak tartare. Oh, no. This is romantic, slushy, "I've booked a table for two at Red Lobster, and we don't even have to stick to house wine" stuff, compiled using science:

Eligible songs had to have endured at least a decade in the public consciousness, if not two or three. And they had to have been popular enough to have ranked among the top 20 pop songs in whatever year they were released.

So, here's the top ten:

1. "My Girl" The Temptations
2. "I'll Be There" The Jackson 5
3. "Wonderful Tonight" Eric Clapton
4. "I Just Called to Say I Love You" Stevie Wonder
5. "You Are So Beautiful" Joe Cocker
6. "In My Life" The Beatles
7. "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" Roberta Flack
8. "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" Elvis Presley
9. "Michelle" The Beatles
10. "I Can't Stop Loving You" Ray Charles

In My Life the most romantic Beatles song? Cocker's old croaky tune? Wonderful cowing Tonight? Good lord, this isn't even table-for-two-at-Red-Lobster; it's more "I might see you at Taco Bell if I get out the strip joint early."

I JUST CALLED TO SAY I LOVE YOU? Romantic?

Further down the list, there's Take On Me by A-Ha. Which, while a great pop song, hardly constitutes one of the most romantic, does it?