Wednesday, March 16, 2005

WHAT THE POP PAPERS SAY: Chiefs and Bosses

Lisa I'Anson tells this week's Closer how she's lost so much weight since she was in celeb Big Brother. Erm... because Channel 4 stopped feeding you?

Boy George's big interview this week is with the Radio Times: that seems to sum up the RT, actually, as well as it does Boy George; there's something increasingly Listen With Mother about them, like they secretly wish they were living in an age when they could get away with putting a black and white picture of Parkinson on the cover and still be the be the biggest selling magazine in the country: George, with his plastic teasing and peforming bear act is perfect for them. I'd imagine Gill Hudson didn't sleep well before this issue hit the streets - maybe he's just a little too edgy? George bangs on in exactly the way you'd expect: gay marriage isn't worth fighting for, because its all about "assimilation", for example. Arguing against George is a waste of time; it's like telling a laughing policeman at a fairground to be quiet, but it's hard to believe he's as stupid as he is. Was he too busy colouring his neck in to notice last year's American election, and how the question of gay marriage - far from being an attempt by the straight world to assimilate homosexuality - is seen by many as a frightening precursor of the end of the world? And besides: since when has making a public affirmation of your love for someone else been "assimilating"? And even if it is - if it gives you the same rights as straight couples - to keep a house if your partner dies; to share a pension - why would that be a bad thing? From someone who clearly has no capacity to love anything outside of his own clown costume, advice on marriage is misplaced.

Unfortunately, due to an astonishing mix-up, we've been sent a 1994 NME. Oh, hang on, it's the Kaiser Chiefs, not Menswear. (No, we're never going to tire of that gag, I'm afraid).

This is something of a low-key Liverpool Bandwagon- fest, featuring the Coral (they're coming back, exactly the same as before, only without the winning sense of novelty); the Zutons - also back, with a little bit more swagger ("I'm aware of the Coral, but we're competing with the Scissor Sisters and Franz Ferdinand now" - errr, not unless there's some meat draw taking place down at the Pop Arms that we don't know about); and - meeting Peter Robinson - there's Ian Broudie, who looks so rough now he's just a spit away from turning into Ron Dixon. Broudie talks about buying his records at Probe, though, which makes us feel a little homesick. Sort of.

Gorillaz offer us a track-by-track of their new album - which would be great, sparing us the need to listen to it. Except we didn't intend to listen to it anyway; and having read the piece - "part Clash, part Madonna" - we're now going to have our ears sealed by surgeons to make sure it doesn't happen by accident.

Kelly Jones pops up doing an interview - hey, what happened to the whole Mr. Writer thing? Wasn't Kelly meant to be down on the whole music journalist thing? Anyway, he tries to make it sound okay he sacked his old loyal schoolfriend Stuart Cable from the band. Apparently it was "an ongoing situation... I regret how it was handled..." Good god, not only does he make corporate sounding rock, but he approaches shitting on a mate like he was someone from human resources.

Gwen Stefani wants to work with Keane. Keane are, of course, keen. Let's hope she doesn't realise she meant Bloc Party any time soon, and break Tim Oxley-Rice's heart.

Martin Horsfield worries about the quality of Britain's entry, recalling a time 11 years ago when oasis told him they could waltz the Eurovision. Martin thinks we should give them, or - god help us - Pete Doherty a crack at it. (Radiohead, of course, claimed they'd write an entry for last year, but reneged). Thing is, even if Oasis were at their best, they couldn't write a Eurovision winner if their release from a Munich prison cell depended on it. They don't have the ability to resonate with so many people; their experience is too narrow, their worldview too limited. Oasis write for a very tight audience; none of that audience are going to be sat in Kiev on a Saturday night voting for a song.

Be Your Own Pet are the radar band this week - they're so sickeningly young we're whistling and not thinking about biting their tight little buttocks, as that sort of thing gets people arrested. Although if they'd like to pop in for some Jesus Juice while they're in the country...

Ricky from Kaiser Chiefs says he'd happily wank off a tramp for success. There's a show idea for Channel Five there.

Josh Homme is still going on about how he didn't "steal" Brody Dalle from Tim Rancid, and how Tim is full of shit and... so on. The Desert Sessions? More like The Playground Spats.

Motley Crue - New York Madison Square Garden - "Lee turns a camera on the audience on girls in the crowd and insists they remove their tops, screaming 'get your titties out'."
The Arcade Fire - Kings College - "a band worth dying for"

The Bravery - The Bravery - "wickedly destabilising pop", 7
rufus wainwright - Want Two - "one of the mosr ambitious double albums of the year", 9
daft punk - human after all - "reveals more of what lies in their hearts than ever before", 7

totw - beck - e-pro - "mind-warpingly sleazy"
50 cent - candy shop - "pleasantly pornographic"
martha wainwright - factory - "living testament that talent requires more than genetics"

And finally: there's a lot of sucking up to Coldplay going on.


Anonymous said...

Well, that's more than enough for me. I spent the Menswear period hiding, listening to mainly Erasure and Neil Young. But my flatmate was doing the thing at that time, and she said the 'swear, and Marcello knows how to turn a phrase and he bemoaned "the Kaiser Chiefs gamely trying to marry the Dave Clark Five with Menswear on Channel 4" en route to discussing Roxy Music, and now this.

So there was never any need to listen to Menswear, is what we're saying?

M.C. Glammer said...

I wouldn't have thought Oasis fans would be in on a Friday night watching a celebrity Eurovision-type thing, but there they were voting for Champagne Supernova. Or Edith Bowman's pedestrian rendering of it.

Edith for Europe.

Anonymous said...

"The Desert Sessions? More like The Playground Spats."

Wow, that was really funny. Did you think it up all by yourself?

Simon Hayes Budgen said...

Well, it wasn't really intended to a satirical line on the basis of something Alexander Pope would have come up with - but, yes, it was all my own work.

Did you spend five months coming up with your riposte?

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