Monday, July 04, 2005

EXTRA GARBAGE BAGGED

If you were tossing and turning cursing your luck at not having got hold of Garbage tickets, good news: extra dates have been added to their tour:

The Apollo in Manchester on October 12
The Cardiff Arena in Cardiff on October 14
Guildhall in Portsmouth on October 16
Hammersmith Apollo in London on October 17
NIA in Birmingham on October 20
Academy in Glasgow on October 22
Usher Hall in Edinburgh on October 23

Tickets are currently on sale. Hurry, hurry, hurry your ass.


SOMEBODY SIGN THIS BAND... OH, RIGHT, GOOD...



Hurrah! Wisdom has prevailed down in Poptown, and Memphis Industries have signed the Pipettes. Two singles to come later this year, and an album in the Spring. At last there's something to look forward to in 2006, besides the world being eaten by a giant moth.


SHAMBLING ON

As is the way with all gigs, you should check locally before stepping out, but with Babyshambles, you might want to keep checking all the way to the gig that Doherty & cos three gigs haven't just disappeared. The plans:

Bristol Carling Academy (August 1)
Manchester University (2)
London Carling Brixton Academy (6)

Meanwhile, the tabloids are having great fun kicking Pete about - if they were worried that his strange heroin implants was going to rob them of the Jimmy Corkhill of our day, they're not now. The Mirror rubs its hands together:

PANICKING Live 8 organisers tried to axe Pete Doherty from the show after he arrived late and apparently high on drugs. The Babyshambles singer was found slumped in a chair before his duet with Elton John. A source said: "He could hardly open his eyes."

Doherty, watched by girlfriend Kate Moss, stumbled on stage and was booed for forgetting his words to T-Rex's Children of the Revolution.


And another of the tabloids chipped in with this:

HEROIN addict star Pete Doherty was branded "a complete shambles" and a "waste of space" after performing a pathetic duet with Sir Elton John. The crowd booed as he STAGGERED round the stage and FORGOT the lyrics of the T-Rex classic Children Of The Revolution.

Singer Charlotte Church fumed: "He's a bit of a waste of space. I
don't think he can really sing."

And Celebrity Love Island star Paul Danan, who was in the crowd at
the Hyde Park, added: "Doherty was shit. He did not deserve to be on the bill. He should never have been allowed on stage. It's an insult to the event and all the other celebrities involved."

Fans cheered when Babyshambles singer Doherty, 25, strutted out in a weird military-style jacket and hat. But he looked off his head as he staggered around the stage with wild eyes caked in purple eye shadow roaming the crowds and, bizarrely, a cigarette lighter stuck in his mouth. Outraged fan Helen Duff, 25, from Croydon, said: "Doherty's performance was a complete disgrace. I feel sickened by his behaviour. It's an insult to the starving people of Africa."

Furious Paul O'Connor, 32, from Bromley, blasted: "Everyone else
appeared sober, so why the hell couldn't he. What does he think he's playing at? This event is for the people of Africa. He has dampened the spirits of those around him."

Despite Doherty's antics, Elton bravely battled on alone through the
cringeworthy hit, at one point kissing Doherty's hand then planting
a smacker on his lips.

And like the true superstar that he is, Elton managed to continue
until the very end.

We do understand that the starving people of Africa held a meeting yesterday morning where the announced they'd refuse to accept any further support unless Pete Doherty apologised. They issued a statement: "We do our bit - sitting there, starving, flies on our face, the whole bit, and then Doherty turns up like that. It's an outrage. You don't know how sickened we feel knowing that some people had paid over a thousand pounds for a seat in the Nokia Luxury Tent, and had to watch Doherty's antics while they were trying to sip chilled white wine and eat canapes. We, the starving of Africa, offer our heartfelt apologies that they had to be subjected to the unthinkable sight of a popstar having taken drugs, ruining what otherwise would have been quite a jolly day out revelling in our plight. Oh, and Annie Lennox... sorry about her being so flat, too."


WHAT IS THE DEFINITION OF EXTENDED?

When they annnounced that Top of the Pops was to be shunted off to BBC TWO, part of the promised deal was that it was being "extended" to allow it to include archive material (in other words, it was having TOTP2 folded into it); and, at least, it wouldn't be being crushed in a battle against Coronation Street for viewers any more. So the announcement yesterday that it was going to be going out at 7.00pm on Sundays from July 17th seemed curious - surely after the first thirty minutes, it'll be being crushed by the Corrie Juggernaut again?

Ah, but you don't need to worry, as it turns out that in this case "extended" means only five more poxy minutes.

The BBC are keen to stress that TOTP on BBC TWO will retain all its historical trappings - even down to the shit ideas at relaunch time. This time round, the production team are going to reach into Pops heritage and resurrect the idea of totally pointless guest presenters to stand alongside Fearne Cotton:

Other guests presenters will include Jeremy Clarkson, Mark Lamarr, The Osbournes and Reggie Yates.

Reggie Yates? Wasn't he one of the sods who sunk the ship in the first place?


LIVE 8: NOT ABOUT THE CAREER AT ALL

On Saturday, Razorlight were telling the Guardian that this wasn't about them at all, oh no.

We're sure it was just a total coincidence that their record company happened to be scheduling adverts for the album on prime time television yesterday evening, then, and nothing cynical there at all.


A QUICK LOOK AT THIS MORNING'S FRONT PAGES

Well, Madonna's decision to cling to Birhan Woldu has paid off for her, as the press have decided that the image of a rock star with a real, genuine African woman is the defining image of Live8:







We bet Mariah Carey's fuming - she had all those cute African kids, and where are they, eh? Where?

Birhan also appears on the Sun front page, taking up the traditional, expected role of those who receive the munificence of the combined efforts of Nokia and several large record companies:



And, in a bizarre move, the Independent chooses a shot of Geldof and, um, Richard Curtis:



The Guardian, meanwhile, chooses a picture which reflects what the original point of the thing was meant to be - no, not people buying Elton John's back catalogue:



So, the UK stood up and allowed itself to be counted, but was Live 8 the global roaring success, putting poverty at the heart of the discourse in this week running up to the G8 summit that we're being told it was?

Well, not really; a large number of yesterday's US papers ignored the event (or at least treated it as an inside item rather than an iconic, front page moment), and those few which did decide to give it front page treatment were a bit wobbly on the message:



For the Boston Herald, this was a "worldwide Woodstock" - why is it that as soon as two musicians play outdoors the US papers always describe it in terms of Woodstock (a term, by the way, of contempt in the States mainstream, on a par with 'la-la-land'):



The San Francisco Chronicle wasn't even sure what the event was called - Live Aid, right?



And the Washington Post was thrilled by the chance to put a picture of an attractive lady on her boyfriend's shoulders ontop of a story about poverty, if nothing else:



So the UK papers may be cynical and exploitative, but at least they reflected the occasion. On the evidence of the global press reaction, though, Tony Blair might want to think twice before telling Bush he's got five billion people solidly behind him.


Sunday, July 03, 2005

LIVE 8: DOUBLE STANDARDS

When your everyday Joe was found to be selling tickets on Ebay, the condemnations came thick and fast - Geldof, you'll remember, was angry about people making cash off the backs of the starving; Harvey Goldsmith took the opportunity to wave his own personal flag around about the whole concept of people selling tickets for anything on Ebay, a trade which doesn't actually affect him at all, since he still sells his tickets if he sells them to a person who attends the gig, or sells them on. But, anyway, the picture was clear - selling tickets made you scum.

Curiously, though, the reaction to the mark-up being charged on the "golden circle" tickets for the hospitality tent was a lot more muted - despite the already disgusting £800 tickets changing hands for as much as £1250. Indeed, Goldsmith seemed more bothered about if they'd done the right thing at all having the VIP area than the people selling them on:

He said: "At the time we weren't sure we had the funds we now have to cover the costs. Maybe it was a mistake on my part."

(Well, yes, it was a mistake - or rather, by creating the disgusting spectacle of a bunch of rich people sipping Pimms in the middle of an event which was meant to be demonstrating that everyone, effectively, is all the same, completely destroyed any sense that Live 8 was a coherently concieved idea. But that's besides the point.)

So: someone flogs a freebie ticket they won for a few quid, and they're the scum of the earth. But told people are selling luxury tickets, and all we hear is a little mumble that perhaps there shouldn't have been a luxury zone in the first place, rather than an angry denunciation of the whole industry that exists to sell on these high class tickets? Why is that, Harvey: why won't you apply the same standards to those selling to the incredibly rich as you expect of Ebay?


LIVE 8: TROUBLE SHARING, BOB?

Twenty years ago, Bob treated Midge Ure like shit when it came to Live Aid: he was shut out of the room when the concert was announced, and then Ultravox got shunted off to a less prestigious slot during the gig itself. This time round, things were meant to be different, but when Midge was sent out to try and clean up some of the early mess generated by Bob's loopier ideas he might have got the sense that history was about to repeat itself. And, indeed, it did.

It seems the original idea was for Bob and Midge to do I Don't Like Mondays together - only, when Bob popped up to do the song, Midge was as surprised as everyone else: he was in the hospitality tent waiting for someone to tell him when they were going to go on.

Midge wasn't happy about being shafted. Again.

Also casting a gloom over the proceedings was Pete Doherty, who seems to have a dreadful time with his big moment during Elton John's set - we missed this, as we were having lunch. But apparently he couldn't remember the lyrics, carry a tune or even stand up straight while he was on stage. On the other hand, at least he wasn't as bad on stage as he apparently became off it. He didn't appear to still be around for Hey Jude.


LIVE 8: BEATING ABOUT THE BUSH

Something just floated past me earlier today while we were doing other things - we had Fox News on in the background, and I think it was The Beltway Boys who got round to mentioning Live 8; one of them was announcing something that he'd heard - that the bands taking part had been given strict instructions not to decry George Bush from the stage as he'd been a good friend to the Live 8 organisers and they needed to keep him on side.

Now, it's possible that - this being Fox - that there wasn't anything to it. On the other hand, it did throw something into fairly sharp relief: yesterday was meant to be a political event (sometimes, depending on who you were talking to and what time it was) and yet, well, it wasn't very political at all, was it? Humanitarian at points, but even when there was some attempt to directly connect with the G8 summit, it seldom went further than showing pictures of the eight heads and a hopeful "please, sir, could everyone have some more?"

So, was that because the bands chosen were so wispy that they've not got the fire in their belly for a fight, or was it because they had been told not to rock the boat? Was the whole point of Live 8 to flatter the very people who've gotten us into this mess in the first place?


LIVE 8: STICK IT IN YOUR IPOD

It would only have been a matter moments between a band coming offstage and the downloads appearing online - Largehearted Boy has some bittorrent links, including Pink Floyd and The Who, while Brooklyn Vegan rounds up some of the others.


THIS WEEK, WE PLUGGED...



Androgyny - a slightly iffy-looking Placebo documentary promising interviews with people who've "worked with" the band. That level of access, then.



Kind of like Great Railway Journeys Of The World. But with Johnny Cash


IT'S A PITY PETER KAY WAS BUSY ELSEWHERE

Following a collapsing barrier at the front of their homecoming show in Manchester last night, Oasis were left to fill for twenty-five minutes. Anyone who thinks that the band are little more than neanderthal grunts will be surprised to hear how they rose to the occasion - Noel offered a brief lecture on the contradictions inherrent in Tom Paine's work and life, while Liam took the opportunity to show off his skills with origami.

Okay, what really happened was Noel got the crowd to chant "who the fuck are Man United" and Liam... well:

Liam eventually butted in and shouted: “Let’s just get somebody in the crowd to get their tits out,” and for the next 10 minutes, constant cheers could be heard ringing around the ground as several girls beared their breasts on camera for the first time since Oasis’s ‘Standing On The Shoulder of Giants tour back in 2000.

Three liberal school districts in America have now announced they no longer plan to block the teaching of creationism in their classes, as having heard this they're not quite sure that the idea of evolution works any more.


PITTER PATTER OF TINY FEET AGAIN

Excellent news from Nashville, via Cardiff, as Cerys Matthews and Seth Riddle announce they're expecting a second child:



"The birth of baby number two is imminent and it is going to be a boy."

There's also a second album on the way, too, although it'll be a slow process:

"I haven't got a title for the album yet although it is more than half recorded," said Cerys.

"Work on the album has slowed down until after the birth of my second child. Life in the US is fine - hot actually, I miss the sea and the BBC and the Welsh ways and walking."


Buy the first born:


MAC NOT IMPRESSED

It's not entirely surprising that Ian McCulloch is so vociferous against Live 8, since Chris Martin invited Richard Ashcroft to take part instead of him and called Ashcroft the greatest singer and did one of his songs... erm, sorry, there's all sorts of problems with the idea. Yes, that's it:

On the eve of the concert, the lead singer of Echo and the Bunnymen told 6 Music that as far as he's concerned "it's the most spurious thing since the last time Geldof did his thing. I don't trust him, all it's going to benefit is the bands. Are the people who he was trying to feed last time still hungry? Probably. There's people in Kirby who... the whole thing's knackered - the whole world if you want to look at it negatively. It's all very well trying to do good but I've got things to look after back in Liverpool that are miles more important to me, and I can't even do that half the time."

Righto, then. That's, uh, clear...


LIVE 8: THE MORNING AFTER

So, the world (at least as represented by Fleet Street) is full of praise for Geldof and his efforts, as people sit down and start to ponder exactly what it all meant, and to try and make some of the figures add up.

Yesterday, we were told that there were a million people at the Phildelphia gig, and half a million at Circus Maximus. Oddly, though, the official figure for attendance at all the gigs added together is being given as one and a half million, which would imply that nobody turned up to Hyde Park at all.

What is more than a terrible shame is that with all eyes on the stages round the world, the terrific outpouring of public will in Edinburgh seems to have been totally overshadowed - the official figures of 200,000 people actively marching in the Scottish capital almost matches the number in the English capital along to watch the gig; except, of course, they were doing something rather than passively consuming. To get at least fifth of a million out without the lure of Pink Floyd reuniting and Mariah Carey's ass - indeed, despite those attractions - is an astonishing example of the power of the people's desire for the G8 to not fuck up. It's a pity their voice was swamped by Madonna.

This leads us to a further question which caused us a little puzzlement. On Friday night, MTV had its All Eyes On Tony Blair. This was a delicious little bit of programming, bespattered with "All New" flashes, in case kids thought this was a re-run of one of the past series of All Eyes On Tony Blair, and chaired by Trevor Nelson. We'd seen Nelson described in some of the press previews as "a youth presenter", which we suppose he is, but only in the sense that John Noakes and Peter Purves were children presenters - to, rather from, those social groups. Blair must wish that every interview was like this - not only were most of the questions so soft you could use them to remove eye make-up, but many of them were on tape so there wasn't an danger of awkward follow-ups. We imagine that Tony would submit to Newsnight more often if instead of Paxman he was facing Destiny's Child asking "why should we help the poorest countries?"

Bob Geldof came on - Nelson, Blair and Geldof suddenly making MTV feel very old; their combined ages almost totalling that of Sharon Osbourne - and was actually very good indeed; when he's not being called upon to address masses, close-up, one-on-few, he's able to sketch in more detail and replace his catch-all come ons with specific ideas that invite debate and consideration rather just looking for a huge cheer and unthinking applause. Having said that, he claimed that the idea behind Live 8 was to provide Tony Blair with a mandate of five billion people behind him for the G8 negotiations.

Leaving aside, for a moment, the contentious "five billion" figure, this does open up something of a massive contradiction in the whole Live 8 plan. Geldof insisted during the planning that the bands on stage had to be big, top sellers, in order to draw the largest crowd possible. But if the idea of the size of the crowd was to provide a mandate for change, wouldn't any bands at all have done? If Blair is supposed to say "we have to do this, look at all the people in Hyde Park", can't Bush simply counter "but weren't they there for Madonna and Pink Floyd rather than the aims?" In fact, Geldof should have put on the most terrible bands he could think of to say "look, even with this pile of pants, people wanted to be there to add their voice."

Unless that was the thinking behind Velvet Revolver.


Saturday, July 02, 2005

LIVE 8: OH.

Apparently, the end of the affair is just the back half of Hey Jude. Which does have an element of a singalong to it, which is all very jolly, but its not even the full song. And because it's mostly just going "na-na-na", there's not much dignity to it.

But, yes, Harvey goldsmith pops up, and asks everyone to be safe as they leave, so that is it.

Luckily, the US show also seems to be over-running, so BBC One is able to pick up the Kaiser Chiefs straight away. Which gives I Predict A Riot an unenviable "follow that, then."


LIVE 8: THE CLOSING STRETCH

That was always the danger, though: it would take something major to persuade the Floyd to reform, but there reformation would overwhelm the event which caused it. So, ironically, although it couldn't have happened without Live 8, their set took itself off to a little bubble that had nothing to do with poverty, Africa, making anything history or even Bob Geldof. Even Williams, while he forgot why he was hear, or didn't know, or didn't care, still had a set that was grounded in the paraphernalia of Making Poverty History. The Floyd set could have been closing off a Sunday in Glastonbury, or a special event in Knebworth, or anything.

Back in the presento-pod, Whiley and Cotton are trumpeting the party line - wasn't Robbie Williams amazing? (Actually, no); Ross chips in with how "superb" Pink Floyd were (if you like that sort of thing); they're desperate for the stage to be set up for Macca and George Michael so we can all go home/to bed/shamble off to a station. "We're so privileged."

Macca has finally come on - doing Get Back, which considering the song's dubious origins is a bit of an odd choice for such a positive-feeling event. These days, McCartney is, of course, a bit like a superpowered Scissor Sisters, tending to only come out for big events, which means he's a good, solid choice for show closer if nothing else.

Drive My Car next - well, we could complain about the global warming implications, but having George Michael on stage for what is essentially a novelty song is a cheeky spot of ego-popping (Michael was moaning earlier that he'd really wanted to do one of his own songs; how sweet he ends up doing something with less gravitas than Bad Boys).

Fucking hell! Helter Skelter - okay, it's not Tomorrow Never Knows, but it's close enough to keep us happy. We'd say that we can't believe he does this live very often, but we'd only be setting ourselves up for emails from archivists with details that he plays it down a pub on the dock road every third Sunday. Sadly, this will lead three-quarters of the audience to go on a murder spree as they head back to the coach park, but that's a price worth paying.

The Long and Winding Road is, I guess, a fitting tip of the hat to the Long Walk concept, but you can hear that it desperately wishes it was Live and Let Die instead.

So, are we now about to get the big closure? Surely it won't be Do They Know Its Christmas, will it?


LIVE 8: COMING UP TO ELEVEN

There's some sort of crushing inevitabilty that the screen time for the reunion which is actually interesting (Roxy Music, on tape from Berlin earlier) is going to be cut short by the bore-revival of the almost hyper-overrated coming together of the second Pink Floyd line-up. To be honest, Bryan's more or less just walking through it, but at least they've made the effort with a bunch of showgirls.

Yes... there it goes, as we prepare for the marching on of the Floyd, or 'no bloody good since Syd left', as we call them. Oh my sweet christ they look so scary now, it's like a bunch of Kwik Fit fitters have come into town. To be fair, I guess if you'd joined in the excitement of the ceremonial passing of the Dark Side of the Moon from generation to generation, then this will be the bit of Live 8 you think of as you hug yourself to sleep this evening, and to be even fairer, considering they're a bunch of people who would have still been attacking each other with wrenches, carjacks and anything else to hand this time last year, they're turning in a fairly tight performance. But they always felt to me like old men too heavy on the carpentry of rock and too sure of their importance to be loveable, and this slot, on this day hasn't done anything to lessen that sense.

"We're doing this for everyone who's not here, but particuarly, of course, for Syd." Oh, go on, then, you're not so bad.

By our calculations, they've already overrun Hyde Park by two and a half hours. If they're not careful, there's going to be all sorts of problems with people missing last trains home. Let's hope the rail companies are being a bit flexible.


LIVE 8: HALF PAST TEN

Well, by now it was meant to be all eyes on America, but perhaps mercifully there's enough British stuff left to keep us going without having to worry about watching Keith Urban.

Although that did mean Peter Kay doing Is This The Way To Amarillo (wrong charidee, shurely?) beyond the point where the joke had worn thin while The Who's stuff was being set up. Pete Townshend is wearing dark glasses, although if he thinks that'll stop Rebekah Wade spotting him and naming and shaming him in The Sun next week, he'll be lucky. Roger Daltrey looks like a man who needs an American Express card to be recognised these days - he's slowly morphing into Cliff Richard, which is quite alarming. And dancing like Andy McCluskey, which is even more disturbing. Without wanting to open an old sore, actually, how does it work with Townshend signing the sex offenders register and Mariah Carey marching kids around backstage? We know that there's not any real risk involved, but was that something that had to be worked around?

We've just been trying to get AOL to work again to see Placebo, who might or might not be on stage in Paris at the moment - thats how we like our non-vanilla sex - but it's crashing the browser like crazy. We're not quite sure why, when they're obsessed with streaming in Windows Media, they won't actually work with Internet Explorer. It's frustrating as we've always had problems trying to get Firefox to accept Windows Media Player as a plug-in, which we quite understand - it's like trying to get your space rocket to accept a tape-player and AM radio.


LIVE 8: TWENTY PAST TEN

Where could they find anyone more irritating than Robbie Williams to do the introduction for the handbag of ego? Step forward, David Beckham. (And how much must it kill Geri Halliwell that the closest the Spices got to the Live 8 stage was one of their husbands doing a run-in.)

We're not quite sure what message Williams is trying to send by gooning round the stage to Let Me Entertain You while flashing images of unfortunate and dispossesed children on the big screen behind him. And we're equally uncertain why he's wearing Albert Steptoe's scarf round his neck, come to that.

Still, compared to Jet - who are onstage at Canada - Williams looks like he's spent a fortune in Moss Bros. We can only presume that the band had to sleep under some sort of hedge before the gig. For six or seven nights straight. In thunderstorms. There's a slight feeling around everything we're seeing from Canada that nobody's really making that much of an effort - the feeling is the one you get at the Acoustic Stage at Glastonbury in the closing hours of the ceremony, that everyone's having fun but with the sense that something better and more exciting is happening elsewhere. (Actually, we've got a couple of friends - Rufus and Claire, hi and congratulations - who were getting married in Toronto today; they had toruble getting their guests anywhere to stay because a giant Alcoholics Anonymous meeting had booked up every spare room in the city months ago, so it's possible Jet did spend last night under a hedge.)

Turning our attention to Hyde Park, we wish we hadn't - Williams appears to be touching his cock - nervous tick? checking it's still there? - before launching into The Greatest Song Ever Made Ever(TM). It's only really sinking in now that any major event with even an ounce of emotional twang to it is going to have Angels lumbered into it at some point, which would be a great reason to attempt to harden your heart and resolve to never connect.

Philadelphia seem to have been watching Maroon 5 forever - they've just started Rockin In The Free World, too, which means they'll be on for a good half hour yet, too.


LIVE 8: TWENTY TO TEN

Oh, lord, she's going to be so embarrassed: Mariah Carey, on stage in front of a squintillion viewers, and she's forgotten to put a skirt on. And someone's forgotten to fade up her vocals. And she's forgotten to do a proper song, too. She'll just die when she watches the Sky+ tonight when she gets home.

Luckily, though, there's sweet relief just a red button away, with Sarah Mclaughlin doing, you know, proper music (and looking proper sexy, too) on stage in Philadelphia - although, to be honest, we're starting to lose track of what's live and what's been saved up from earlier. Sarah even apologises for sounding corny when she says we can all make a difference.

Back in Hyde Park, Mariah is parading "the African Children's choir" - apparently, they represent "eleven million orphans and they deserve a round of applause." Mariah claims "children like these inspire me" - which is quite disturbing since her art, such as it is, seems to involve little more than removing her knickers, ramming her tits into a push-up bra and screeching and panting. Is she really thinking about small children when she's doing that?


LIVE 8: NINE THIRTY

Still, at least there was Kanda Bongo Man to escape to on the BBCi service while Velvet Revolver was going. And after Scott and Slash Sting comes as a bit of a relief. And what makes the difference between Sting and his partner in light jazz and concept projects Annie Lennox is that Sting accepts that if you're playing a gig to large numbers of people, most of them won't give a fuck about your new, Montreux-friendly stuff and will really want to hear the songs you did when you were still famous. So he's come on with Message in a Bottle, and is about to do Every Breath You Take. The Police - like the Eurythmics - had some cracking pop songs, and Sting at least has the sense to not be ashamed of the tracks which got him to his position today.

And it is quite a position, too - nobody but a powerful figure would be able to get Trudi onto the interview couch, despite her not being famous, nor having anything to say, and wearing a stupid, stupid hat of the sort old ladies might crochet for a charity shop whose fundraising aims they didn't totally agree with.


LIVE 8: TEN PAST NINE

Just when ITV had abandoned all hope of getting any audience at all this evening, on come Velvet Revolver. Who thought it would be a good idea to let them on the bill at all, much less during the evening, when they'd had a chance to enjoy some of the chilled drinks available backstage? They've never been anything more than the brainwrong of a bunch of over-promoted rock grunts, a vanity unit of dubious beauty, but tonight's performance took their rather low benchmark and didn't even set out to try and grab up towards that.

"You can come out now, they've gone" said Ross as they returned us to the safety of the presentation pod, where Paul McCartney was recalling his meeting with Vladimir Putin: "he seems a nice man... then someone reminded me he was the head of the KGB."


LIVE 8: THE PEOPLE SPEAK

BBC News has been running a Blog all day, mixing BBC correspondents posts with public text messages which has given an interesting, if slightly depressing, chance to measure just how high that awareness beam has been raised by today's events:

1920, Lucy, from East Sussex, at Hyde Park
I'm just here to watch the bands, really.

1901, Jo-anna, from London, at Hyde Park
Dido was amazing and when she was singing with that guy, singing 'Seven Seconds', it was amazing. Everybody's in such a great mood.


We're sure there'll be a small queue at record shops on Monday morning seeking records by "that [African] bloke."

1630, Mark Jeynes, via text
The inactivity and disinterest of the lucky few in the golden circle is a disgrace. The bands must be disappointed the real people are so far away.

1600, Jamie, via text from Liverpool
I thought when Bill Gates introduced Dido, he was going to start singing Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? I was gutted when he didn't!

1519, Phillipa Thomas, BBC News, London
Looking around, there are very few black faces on the stage and there are very few black faces in the crowd. But the organisers have already said that's not the point, the point was to get the big commercial acts on stage and as many people as possible listening and watching as possible.

1440, Dave from Exeter via text
At the back of Hyde Park. Great opening by U2. The sound is travelling slower than the big screen vision! Paid £2 for cup of coffee!


We're sure, of course, that that's fairtrade coffee and most of the scalped price will be heading its way to a grower's collective in Africa, won't it? Won't it? Bob...?


LIVE 8: EIGHT FORTY

The Scissor Sisters really are made for this sort of thing, aren't they? We expressed a fear last week that they're fast turning into a band who have little time left to do anything other than a never-ending circuit of festivals and benefits and awards shows, but they've actually written a new song, which they're electing to do here and now. Which is probably the most brave thing anyone's done so far in this show - if you're going to debut a song, why not try it just a spit from the finale of the biggest gig in history (TM)?

It's brave; it's just a pity the song isn't quite as strong as anything from their first album.

The whole thing's starting to look like it's going to run a little late, at least in London.


MOTOWNOBIT: Renaldo Benson

The death has been announced of Renaldo 'Obie' Benson, one of the original Four Tops.

Born in 1936, Benson came together with Levi Stubbs, Abdul Fakir and Lawrence Payton in 1953 to form the band, originally named The Four Aims. The line-up remained unchanged until the death of Lawrence in 1997. Over the course of fifty years they managed two number ones - I Can't Help Myself and Reach Out, I'll Be There - but their status never quite regained after their songwriters Holland-Dozier-Holland quite Motown in 1967, leaving the Four Tops to be shuffled from one team of producers to another. Although they never touched the top again, they remained successful enough to make a living from music. Even a forced change of label when they elected to not follow Motown to Los Angeles in 1972 didn't leave them totally beached - they still charted regularly until the late 70s.

After the chart action started to dry up (their last visit to the Top 40 was 1988's destructable), the band focused their attention on a lucrative business of tours, cabarets and PAs. Besides a one-off festive special, they haven't bothered with a new album since 1988, but being The Four Tops had effectively provided them with all they needed to guarantee an interested audience would turn up.

Obie died in a Detroit Hospital on Friday, from lung cancer. He was 69, and his last appearance with the band was on a performance on David Letterman's show in April this year.


LIVE 8: EIGHT FIFTEEN

See? Who can complain that this is just a load of white people pretending they know what's best for Africa? BBC ONE finally remembers the Africans are playing down in Cornwall, just in time to catch, erm, Dido.

Snow Patrol shout "The Killers are coming on next - isn't that exciting?" and, well, compared to them, yes it is. Bemusingly, at the end of their microset, The Killers announce that Martin Luther King Jr is about to do something. What, we'll never know, as the BBC cut back to Jonathan Ross at that point. We're guessing it might be King's crowd-pleasing juggling act that we missed.

Joss Stone's just turned up now - not driving her Lexus but nevertheless looking like a girl raiding her Mum's purse in order to try and swing the homecoming queen vote at a private school's prom.


LIVE 8: BLOG ROUND-UP

This event - where most participants are sat in their living rooms with a plate of gypsy cremes and a cup of tea - is just made for the instant punditry beloved of the bloggers. We're just going to dip a very ginger toe into the waters:

My Heart's In Accara picks up a report in the Christian Science Monitor, which showed that Live8 ticket holders in the US didn't really have much of a clue about Africa: "only half the concertgoers could name a single African leader. (In three of four cases, the concertgoers came up with “Robert Mugabe”, suggesting something about what African countries do and don’t receive Northern media coverage."

For Pambazuka, Gerald Caplan isn't entirely sure that Live 8 is going anything like far enough: Anyone who doesn't distrust the Group of 8 leaders who'll be meeting next month hasn't been paying attention. They're the ones responsible for the economic apartheid that characterizes rich-poor country relations today. Every one of them has failed to live up to repeated pledges about aid, debt relief and agricultural subsidies, solemnly made and blithely ignored. The recent ballyhoo about debt relief for 14 African countries was wildly overblown; it was no more than a modest first step. The more leaders like Tony Blair and Paul Martin shed crocodile tears talk about their moral crusade for Africa, the more liberal imperialist rhetoric they spin, the more nervous we should be. The job of Bono and Bob Geldof and other Live 8 organizers is to let their fans know that Africans need no more missionaries or do-gooders. Instead, Africans have a right to justice and equity to make up for the incalculable harm that we in the rich world have inflicted on them for such a long, long time.

Of course, that's the politics - what's really getting people excited is the swearing:

Razorlight cause a Ruckus! By saying the "F" word twice before the watershed! Oh my! Good for them. Update: Madge does, too! saysRecord Card; while Gav's Studio begs for some understanding:She swore. For god sake no-one complain to the BBC. The poor African woman looked dazed. I’m not surprised seeing 200,000 people looking back at you.

Did anyone actually invite Crosby, Stills and Nash? They've rushed out a press release saying how sorry they were they couldn't take part:

"After working many hours to try and support Live8 and David Crosby even helping to secure a plane as CSN was prepared to do the show, the band was not able to get a workable slot in the Berlin performance sequence that would have put them back in Bonn to perform a tour date that was previously routed prior to any announcement of the Live 8 event," Gerry Tolman, manager of Crosby, Stills & Nash said today. "They are extremely sad that they could not be a part of this historic event."

Yeah, we bet the Berlin organisers were really falling over themselves to try and work CS&N into the schedule. We can just picture them on the phone - "sorry, we have a metal band doing Hang On Sloopy when you want to play... how does ten pm sound? No..."

Paul Korda's blog also has this: The historic opening of today's Live 8 concert in London - U2 and Sir Paul McCartney collaborating on the Beatles' "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" - has been rush-released worldwide by Universal Music Group as a digital download, for sale an hour after its performance on the Hyde Park stage.

The unique recording is available to buy through more than 200 online music stores and services in 30 countries, including www.Live8Live.com, and the proceeds from the download sales are being donated to Live 8.


Pity - or perhaps not - that they can't include it in the download chart, isn't it?

So while that end of the digital world is holding up under the strain, it looks like AOL is having a bit of a nightmare - Caryl isn't the only blogger having trouble watching the streams:

Ok, So its 3:30am and Im staying up TRYING to watch Live8 but the damn site wont let me! Linkin Park are on in less than 30 minutes but I still havent fix this problem! I have been on this fucking site since 11:30 and I haven't even managed to get the radio stream to work! *kicks computer* Damn it!

Mind you, not hearing Limp Bizkit is hardly the most crushing thing that can happen to you, is it?

Back to the politics - and for a useful round-up on African Bloggers' perspectives on Live 8, Global Voices offers some first steps in.


LIVE 8: HALF PAST SEVEN

Going into Music, she has a bit of a sitdown and allows two young guys do some bodypopping - that's showbiz, one minute you're stood outside Peacocks in Chester trying to get a couple of quid out of the tourists, then before you know it, you're being brought on stage to provide some young flesh to bring down the average age of the Madonna segment. Her entire bunch of supporters seem to have been told to do some weird tai-chi style dancing. And there are a lot of people trying to shore her up/back her up. It could all be rather clever - Madonna's way of demonstrating that without many others, we are all rather weak, reedy, and unable to do much. But I suspect she's just hoping that we won't notice that these days, she needs a gospel band and a pair of keyboardists helping if she has any hope of carrying a tune.

And, yes, she is wearing her special cult wristband.


LIVE 8: SEVEN FIFTEEN

And we think that makes a straight run of every TV appearance ever that Johnny Borrell of Razorlight has removed his shirt - we know his nipples more intimately than our own, we think.

Bob Geldof has come out on stage again, this time to show that CBC Drive video which Bowie introduced last time (why no Dame David this year?) and to introduce a girl who didn't die because of Live Aid. (Although, actually, that's slightly arguable of course.) Having used her as a trophy of how great he's been, he then handed the poor woman over to Madonna. Maddy gripped her with her claws and forced her stand, looking a bit bemused, in front of a billion people while she did Like A Prayer. Eventually her interpreter came to her rescue.

Wisely, Madonna has decided to stick tracks from before her career went dismal, although her unconvinced delivery of Ray of Light underlines just how much of a slump she's in. Not so much "I feel like I've just got home" as it's a bit like you've left your gumption at home, lady.