JoshAdams

We wouldn’t have Romney, so why would they?

As Romney takes his campaign overseas for the first time, his behaviour alongside his campaign history highlights aspects of not just Republican politics, but American politics as a whole that would seem completely alien to those in the UK.

If you’re a resident of the United Kingdom (or perhaps anywhere that isn’t the USA) you might have been aware of the Republican frontman’s undiplomatic doubts about Britain and its ability to host the Olympics, just a day before the Opening Ceremony was to begin. Far from being the end of the world, or even his campaign for that matter, the implications, reactions and reasons revolving this apparent ‘blunder’ say more about the alien world of American politics than possibly anything in recent memory. So the question is, if we’ve heard so much of his ‘gaffes’, why aren’t we declaring Obama the victor already?

First of all, it’s important to remember that despite the UK tabloid’s ferocious attacks, or the London Mayor’s mockery, the USA (and largely the world) has really struggled to give a shit. To put it into perspective, the man on his first campaign trip abroad couldn’t even get our country’s name right, calling it England – the virtual equivalent of calling the United States ‘Texas’. But why? Surely the man challenging the incumbent for the post of “Leader of the Free World” shouldn’t be pissing off its ‘greatest ally’ on his first trip to meet and greet? Breaking news, if anything – his Olympics ‘gaffe’ only made his journey to the White House an easier one. No, I’m not even joking. Take a look at the video below to see what I’m talking about, pay attention to the penultimate reason specifically.

To an average Brit, the denouncing of an ally’s Olympic opening ceremony tied with the inability to remember their name would almost run them out of town. Being perceived as unprofessional and incompetent, the British press and electorate would jump on them like a rabid dog. Granted, the video example is a little white trash, a little far-right and a little… well, bonkers (“we don’t know where he comes from” – try America). But in reality it says a sizable amount not just about American priorities, but staunch Republican values – y’know, the values that will probably see him carried into the White House. To hard-line Conservatives, this is America at its best – crass, proud and uncaring. The American right cares little for nitty-gritty foreign policy and the concerns of other sovereign nations, if anything their only priority is parading around American exceptionalism wherever they can, proving still that the United States is No.1, and more importantly always will be.

Perhaps unsurprisingly so, as this election (unlike those of the Bush era) will be the most distant from foreign policy there have been in recent memory. Struggling with a troubled economy, the already insular American public and media have become ever more focused on their domestic financial problems, healthcare controversy and gas prices (often a symbol of freedom in the vast landscape of the USA).

But if your first impressions of the American political landscape were an electorate tolerant (even accepting) of incompetence, you’re still not completely wrong.

Mitt Romney has proved himself to flip-flop on vital issues to the American public and his Conservative supporters, not just once, but time and time again. Vietnam, stem cell research, Reagan (something of a Conservative hero), abortion, ‘Obamacare’ (a system he originally instituted in his state of Massachusetts, now promising to repeal nationwide if he were to win), even small and apparently meaningless facts. At best, he has a memory disorder, at worst he’s a desperate unempathetic suit who’ll say just about anything to get in the White House. Just a quick reminder, this is the man who’ll control the biggest nuclear arsenal in the world, have the strongest diplomatic clout and head the world’s only superpower. Question is, do the American public (more specifically the ones who’ll be voting for him) even know of his flip-flop endeavors? Chances not.

Unlike the UK, the United States has news coverage that quite obviously favours one political view over another. Fox, despite its ability to perpetuate an array of quality American films and entertainment around the globe, has possibly the most biased news network in the Western world. But unlike the rest of us, America simultaneously sees Fox as the second most trusted news network in the country whilst also being the top untrusted network too. This alone is a testament to just how divisive their news coverage is. Most revealing of all is the political affiliations of those who trusted, and those who did not trust the station.

A TV News Poll by Public Polling Policy revealed 72% of Conservatives trusted the Fox News coverage, while 82% of Liberals didn’t. And considering that Fox has been under the spotlight for allegations of conservative bias several times, it’s understandable why those who share the political slant of the coverage are those who favour the channel the most. Considering this, it is also understandable to see why those who are most likely to vote for Romney in 2012 are those who would be least likely to know about his ever-changing stance on important issues. Ironically, the Presidential Candidate for the Democratic party in 2004, John Kerry, was hounded for being an apparent flip flopper in his race against George W Bush. And more revealing still is how Fox News has absolutely no mention of Romney’s same crime. It’s easy to see how this withholding of information in order to make your chosen candidate appear the superior is the perfect breeding ground for an uninformed and unfair election – with the American electorate paying the biggest price for it.

I might find BBC News, Sky News, ITV News and all the rest slightly cold and stoic in comparison to their American counterparts. But in order to have a more intelligent and informed debate about who’ll lead my country in the years to come, I’m willing to sacrifice a bit of showmanship in my news coverage. And in order to truly understand the American political landscape, you must understand that Romney’s hopes of entering the White House rest largely on a ‘free’ press. A press free to say whatever the fuck it wants.

Book Review: Britpop, Cool Britannia and the Spectacular Demise of English Rock

“Something has shifted, theres a new feeling on the streets. Theres a desire for change. Britain is exporting pop music again. Now all we need is a new government.”

Alistair Campbell
Tony Blair’s Press Secretary, Autumn 1996

If there was ever a quote that epitomised the time John Harris writes about, it’s this one. Britpop for those of you who don’t know is the name given to the period in the 1990s in which British music, politics and culture went through a perceived revolution, resuming its apparent dominance and international prestige. Mostly used in a musical context, the striking thing about the word ‘Britpop’ is that it can be applied to anything from Oasis to the Spice Girls – so certainly not a genre then (although John Harris focuses specifically on Britpop as rock music). Unlike other socio-cultural movements like punk, Britpop as a concept was much more successful. The fact it helped carry a new Labour government to election victory is a testament to that. And it’s traits like that that make Britpop such brilliant subject matter for a book.

First of all I’d like to say I’m hardly a bookworm. Having not read a book in over five years and with the only books I’d ever read page-to-page being the Harry Potter series, it’s not hard to imagine how close I fit the average reading activity of someone my age. It was first and foremost my interest not only in non-fiction but music in general that inspired my purchase, anybody feeling interested in either of the latter should follow suit. Fundamentally, it’s Harris’s ability to create a story of immense detail and insight that borders on the academic while simultaneously forging a read that really feels like a book about rock stars and the mindless fun that comes with it that makes it so successful. From studio to stadium, it’s rock n’ roll storytelling of some of the greatest bands of the era (Oasis, Blur, Pulp, Suede, Elastica) and the conflict, relationships and scene that enveloped around them is one of the most interesting times in our music history, and whilst previously writing for publications as NME, Q, Select, Melody Maker as well as a healthy selection of the mainstream press, this veteran writer does the period complete justice.

Okay, so until now I’ve never actually read a “proper” book. So perhaps you’d see this as nothing more than a proud statement of my literary accomplishment. But perhaps the fact I finished this one, and that it has spurred me on to read more says more about the book than it does me.

A truly thrilling read.

The Scottish Referendum will be a vote on music, as well as politics

Ask the common man on the street who the most commercially successful Scottish musicians are, and the chances are unless you happened to encounter an avid music fan with a taste for biographies, you’d be lucky to squeeze much out of them.

On the other hand, if you were to ask that same stranger the accolades of English musical exports, you’d have found yourself in a much more familiar place. But is this surprising?
The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland has produced some of the most influential musicians of the modern era – but considering Scotland’s population accounts for just 8.4% of its makeup, a mere 5 million people, they’ve probably got the strongest music credentials per capita of any country on the entire planet, harboring a creative ingenuity that is something more reflective of its 32% share of our geography. The 1970s were witness to such Scottish cultural sharings as the Bay City Rollers phenomena, one of the first of many acts to be labeled as ‘the biggest band since the Beatles’. Aberdeen resident, Annie Lennox, went on to achieve success not only in Eurythmics & The Tourists but as a solo artist also, selling over 80 million records and subsequently earned the distinction of the “most successful female British artist in UK music history” – collecting four Grammy Awards and a record eight Brit Awards on the way. Franz Ferdinand, KT Tunstall, The Fratellis, Paolo Nutini, Biffy Clyro and Calvin Harris are yet more examples from a long list of exemplar specimens of the Scot sound.

However, despite a fervent nationalism and such cultural romanticisms that make their southern neighbors seem drab and generic in comparison, their music industry is by no means reflective of the quirky and mythical place it calls home.

English music in comparison has a completely different story to tell, in part to the fact that it actually has a story. The woolly and strange thing about the concept of ‘Englishness’ is its lack of appropriate context; it’s strange that for a nation that tends to drop the cross of St. George for a larger and more encompassing ‘British’ mentality – its music industry is the word’s most staunch admirer, second only to football.

Gene Simmons of KISS once said in an interview with The Sun “When you say guitar god, it really just means English, doesn’t it? There are no American guitar gods. All the rock gods are English.” Whether Simmons falls into the Yankee misconception of England being synonymous with the UK is unclear, but the fact the red and white nation was singled out speaks of more than a confusion of definition.

Fact is, the geo-politics of the music business is a side often never told. Not only does this idea play out on a field between constituent countries, it’s something that has been a fierce factor in the generation of the British sound. When Manchester’s music scene blew up in the late 80s/early 90s with the likes of The Happy Mondays, The Stone Roses and The Charlatans, label scouts were ordered up north on a musical pilgrimage that would mark the most significant cultural moment for the city, ever. So powerful was this movement, even its ensuing hangover was enough to propel Oasis into the history books. But what spoke most about the comparative emptiness was the rhetoric that ‘the record execs had called them back to London’; the HQ of not just English, but British music. And it was true.

Against the industry’s London-centrism, surely Scotland had a role to play in the brewing music nationalism of Britpop and ‘Cool Britannia’ of the 1990s? Nope, not really. Mostly down to a flurry of over-excitement by the British music press, Britpop was initially an ‘Anti-American’ movement characterised by a nostalgia for English rock and character, yes, not British.

Damon Albarn of Blur spoke of his “attempting to write in a classic English vein” when talking about their album ‘Modern Life is Rubbish’ (a record that was almost called ‘England vs America’). The predominantly ‘English ideal’ of the era was somehow repackaged into a more falsly inclusive form. From its anti-grunge dogma, to its championing of more camp and socially awkward personal traits (Brett Anderson, above), the idea from its inception was a purely English one. In the years that ensued, the Union Jack went from a backward imperial remnant to a fashion icon, and by the time Geri Halliwell got her hands on that infamous dress nobody gave a fuck what started it.

The fact is, Scottish music has never had its own distinct legacy or concise narrative. And despite its creative genius and flare, it often struggles to receive its proportionate share of limelight; more times than not boiled down to an ultra-creative enclave off the north of England – with piercing through as a cultural collective being something that continuously evades them. It’s become true, now more than ever, that a union with a more aggressive larger sibling comes with a fair share of downsides. And if the Scottish public decide to go the way of independence in 2014, the inevitability of a more insular and self-concerning domestic musical policy will certainly follow. No longer would London be the speakers through which the sound of Scotland is amplified. And I think they’ll be a shitload better for it.

The Genius Behind Celebrity Culture and Tabloid Journalism

The word ‘celebrity’ is one used so often now it has virtually evaporated into the realm of nothingness. Where once it was used to denote someone worthy of ‘celebration’ and signify a prominence in the public consciousness, with ever expanding media outlets, sports, films, music, television and opportunity for pure notoriety, nowadays the label is thrown about just as liberally as if we were labeling ourselves.

In 1961 a man called Daniel J. Boorstin wrote a book called The Image: A Guide to Pseudo-events in America. In it, he defined celebrity as “a person who is known for his well-knownness”. Saying that due to a technological revolution, ease in communication and a cultural change in journalism, that the term had “severed fame from greatness” – effectively saying the relationship between what you did and how famous you were had become virtually non-existent. That was over 50 years ago.

In 2012, rich and famous like Kim, Khloe and Kourtney Kardashian, Paris Hilton, Katie Price, Amy Childs and more are some of the many individuals who have risen to the forefront of our awareness, becoming household names and making millions to boot – but for what? An interesting characteristic of the phenomena that is 21st century celebrity culture, is it’s peculiar (at worst, vulgar) fascination with personality, rather than craft, creed or contribution to society. ‘Celebrity’ enthusiasts in 2012 are much more likely to care about a star’s ‘dirty secrets’ (which in all, aren’t that secretive) than they are to find out about their latest film role or album they’ve spent nine months molding in a high-rise New York studio. The perception of what equates to success has changed drastically, who gives a fuck what you do – as long as people pay attention. Even the idea that modern ‘reality’ stars represent a fascination with character is flawed; I mean, look at this video of Kim Kardashian on Alan Carr’s Chatty Man – I’ve seen turds with more personality.

So if celebrity culture is so vacuous, empty and superficial, what’s the big deal? Where does the fascination, obsession, exposure and fortune come from? The answer is altogether a more clever affair.

If you’re a citizen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, you’re probably aware of one of the less appetising aspects of our nation. While our Broadcast Journalism oozes sophistication, sensibility and stoicism (a trait that makes the likes of yankee Fox News look like a live feed from a mental asylum) our newspapers, tabloids and print media is where our share of the nutjobs lie. With an obsession with scandal, exclusives and sensationalism wrapped in a confidently crude preoccupation with anyone off the telly – the British press and magazine stands present a fertile patch for celebrity culture to grow, and grow, and grow.

The thing is, the likes of OK!, More!, Hello, Now and every other similar magazine in existence (not to mention the tabloid’s gigantic appetite for anything ‘celeb’) are widely assumed to have a tough job on their hands. You’d be forgiven for thinking that your favourite members of the rich and famous are much too busy to deal with the likes of an army of Entertainment Journalists, and that the thought of a gabbling sweaty intern looking for column inches would be enough to convince anyone to temporarily abandon the public sphere in favour of a glass of champy and a bubblebath in private seclusion. No, not quite.

The fact is, whether it’s our luminous “prince charming” Peter Andre, or DIY SOS presenter Nick Knowles (no, i’m not even fucking joking) every single one of these ‘celebs’ will rely on these publications to some extent, whether it’s an extra buck or the basis for their entire wellbeing. Kerry Katona might rant on about ‘press intrusion’ and respecting privacy, but if it weren’t for her staple in the British magazines and tabloids, she’d be behind a till at Tesco, on top of the mountain of ‘those who were famous but aren’t anymore’. There’d be no TV interviews, no reality programmes, no fly-on-the-wall documentaries – because nobody would give a flying fuck, simple as.

‘Dramality’ programmes like TOWIE, Made in Chelsea, Geordie Shore and Keeping Up With The Kardashians essentially survive on coverage of the cast’s extra-curricular activities – and others’ interest in them. Now, imagine if the entire media simultaneously stopped giving a fuck; these people would drop off our radar like a sack of shit, but they won’t. Extroverted, fame hungry individuals like these present an opportunity for endless content, it’s a dream come true.

The magic thing about Celebrity Culture is it’s virtually self-sufficient. Publications need their column inches, celebs need their space in the spotlight, less they face the reality of a life of perceived ‘mediocrity’ – no attention, no sequins, and no glitter and champagne. OK!, Hello and their compatriots are willing to satisfy this desire in return for endless details of your life, elaborated emotions and saucy stunts. Their very presence fortifies the myth of what’s hot, who’s in fashion, who’s worth talking about and who isn’t. Their ability to create and manifest their own stories and plot lines, only for people to lust after them later is at best a con (and at worst a travesty). The fact that Britain’s biggest selling newspaper has a Politics section dwarfed 10-fold by its Entertainment coverage is a sad sign to say the least, all the worse considering it floats on a bed of bafoons. And I’m sorry, if you’re still paying money to read about Kerry fucking Katona 11 years after she left Atomic Kitten, you’re a moron mate.

What it takes to be a Superstar

Being a Superstar is much like being a King (or Queen, sorry feminism) in that more often than not there can be only one true head of popular culture reigning supreme, providing a template to emulate and later a deterrent for the hipsters to flock from. Alas, like King William and Queen Mary; some lucky buggers have been nice enough to share the treasured cradle, but not always. So in essence, what actually does make a modern musical icon? I hustled my two beautiful brain-cells together for this almighty of questions, and this is what I got.

Don’t be a f*cking Pisshead

Original Pogues’ frontman and a beauty to behold, Shane McGowan (pictured left) according to rumour first drank stout at the age of six – and due to his unending thirst for his face on a piss strewed backstage urinal, the man has yet to quell his drink habit – and subsequently regain any mass public sympathy (or recognition for that matter). Although the likes of John Bonham, Jim Morrison and Amy Winehouse have gone on to reach quasi-legend status, the fact they couldn’t keep their proverbial hands out the cookie jar has solidified them as rock n’ rolls tragedies. After all, addressing your pop-culture subjects entails a working mind, and a pulse.

Be the complete opposite

With cliché rhetoric like “What doesn’t kill you makes you makes you stronger’ and an origin story that makes the U.S Consitution look like Gaddafi’s history of sexual encounters – Kelly Clarkson embodies the clean-cut, democratically elected pop-star that epitomises the ‘oh-so nice’ ‘girl next door’ appeal that’s needed if you’re gonna hold a legitimate claim to the crown of popular music. If Clarkson’s family friendly aura isn’t initiating any sign of nausea, Jessie J’s “Just DO IT LIKE A DUDE, forget about the PRICE TAG, STAND UP for the love. Remember, NOBODY’S PERFECT and always be true to WHO YOU ARE” are sure to have to dashing for the nearest Oasis album, you’ll always need your music insulin to keep your rock n’ roll glucose levels in balance. Next.

Have a myriad of hits

Of course, nothing entitles to you to music super-stardom more than a list of hit albums and singles. Being a contender for the title usually implies a pretty hefty (and half decent) back-catalog, but many a star has gone without this most prestigious of prerequisites. Jennifer Lopez has yet to wash up a good solid record to show for her pseudo-iconic status in the American pop world, such cultural anomalies still allude me to this day. Worthy examples would include Beyoncé and the Princess of Pop herself, Britney. Both of which have contributed heavily to ‘the gay man’s top ten things that ever happened to this planet, ever’; forget Adele’s amazing yet short stint in the eye of the globe – if you want super-stardom you better be prepared to be in it for the long haul. Or have your head shaved, either way.

Get a cause, any cause

Being a cultural legend means that merely by expectation you have to do something with it. Take Bono for example; “the face of fusion philanthropy” – a man whose sheer status as a pop symbol entitled him anything from a place at Bob Geldof’s Live Aid to chilling with the president of Brazil, all in the name of helping starving children of course. And who couldn’t mention Lady Gaga herself, a woman who managed to do a profoundly pretentious and over-hyped “concept album” about self-acceptance while simultaneously appointing herself PR Executive for the entire planet’s LGBT community. Blur bassist Alex James found himself useful in his band’s hiatus and became a neo-calorie crusader of sorts, gracing the pages of The Sun as their now resident Food Columnist; cringeworthy I know but brownie points for standing out. Oh wait, double brownie points – by actually championing our fatty favourites he’s become a culinary rebel. A foodie and a rockstar rolled into one, anything’s possible.

New York has more reason than ever to be proud

The fact is, if my house was the planet’s butthole, than New York would be its mind. Innovative, creative, exciting and more or less the place where it all happens. Don’t get me wrong, cities like London, Dusseldorf, Tokyo and Seoul have in most respects just as much to give to the world’s cultural mixing bowl as the great NY, but none of them quite beat New York.

New Yorkers have always been on the edge of things, if it wasn’t too preoccupied with creating Hip Hop, it was coming up with something else – salsa, punk rock and disco anyone? In the 1990s, revolutionary albums like Nas’s ‘Illmatic’ & Notorious B.I.G.’s ‘Ready to Die’ blew up not only the American east coast, but the entire world; creating a city fixed up for the 21st Century whose genius would bring the world Immortal Technique, Mos Def and Jay-Z. That’s one hell of a resume for any city.

But one single reason why New York natives have more than ever something to shake about, it’s the one and only Azealia Banks. After receiving the blessing of NME in the shape of ‘2011′s Coolest Person of the Year’ (despite having little reason to do so) the young rapunzel has seen her momentum snowball ever since. Framing her hype around her centerpiece club-pleaser ’212′ – a track anchored by its memorising accelerated rhymes – she’s managed to fuse her classically trained performing arts past with a distinct fiesty attitude that only a New York girl would have. Tracks like ‘Liquorice’ , ‘L8R’ and ‘Van Vogue’ cement her flow and choice of beats as one of the catchiest and rawest around right now. Despite being only 21, her content is a cut above the rest in terms of maturity; managing to steer away from the playground bitchin’ of Minaj’s ‘Stupid Hoe’, here’s a girl who’s fun not laughable, dead serious but not classroom boring.

But essentially, it’s the almost absurdity of the fact that despite going viral across the Atlantic in the UK and Europe, in contrast, the Harlem rapstress has gone commercially unnoticed in her native US. It’s this, I think, that the city of NY should hold its head up highest about. The ability to produce a varied experimental sound – and export it. You guys might not like it, but you’re willing to share. Cheers guys.