You know what? I gotta hand it to this generation's pop acts. It's bloody tough being in pop these days. Don't believe me?
Consider the kind of stories doing the rounds these days. Protest against Beyonce's Super Bowl performance planned for NYC. Anonymous protesters accuse Beyonce of race baiting. Of course they're anonymous and don't want to reveal their identities to people. Rather than consider the symbolism of Beyonce's performance as a way of moving forward, the (non) event is all about perpetuating the race baiting that they are accusing the pop singer of. Whatever. Rihanna tops Billboard chart amidst allegations that Anti is a flop, sold 1000 copies. Is it just me, or is the media reception to Anti another example of how anyone connected with Tidal is going to be forever punished in the media? Granted, Tidal doesn't seem to be doing itself any favours along the way. At least the Guardian article bothers to look at the issue from a couple of different angles as it signposts how the music industry is changing. Madonna's latest wardrobe malfunction should swear her off marriage forever. Perhaps marriage just isn't M's thing. It's like anything connected to marriage gives M trouble. Of course the big M news in the media of late has been the whole Rocco saga. If you cast your minds back a couple of weeks, it was Madonna that was being accused of being a bad parent. Now it's Guy Ritchie's turn. Nicki Minaj and the generation gap. Wasn't the fuss about Only over and done with about a year ago? All the Fascist iconography that came with the lyric video got everybody in a tizz. But you know, parents are always the last to know, and when they do catch up, it's always a ripe for a vine kind of moment. Think those are tough? Try being Kanye West. And having a platform that you constantly misuse or opinions that do nothing but divide and detract from your musical talent. His onstage and on Twitter rants are the kind of thing that not even NATO would be capable of quelling. In my mind, the most disturbing music news doing the rounds relates to Will Young battling porn, alcohol addiction. Will Young's admissions are heartbreaking. We like to gloss over the effect that being marginalized creates. That being categorized or labelled in a certain way is actually a healthy thing, when the vast majority of messages and attitudes run completely contrary. I really feel for Will Young, and I really applaud the fact that he stood in front of a young audience and bared his soul as he did. It's not easy being different and being reminded that you're different, that you're somehow not an equal because the particulars of your life don't reflect the perceived majority, the perceived norm.
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I never got the whole One Direction thing, nor do I get the Five Seconds of Summer thing either. I mean, of course I get it - I grew up alongside the modern boy band phenom. New Kids On The Block, Take That... Dire Straits... The thing is, The Boy Band has always been a really important part of what makes the music industry tick. The idea that four or five (five seems to be the best number) kids from the projects with questionable musical pedigrees but pretty faces can help keep tweens and teenage girls happy, bring their parents to the verge of a financial crisis and keep not only record labels in business but also, and more importantly, the merchandise and memorabilia sectors alive... it's a powerful thing. Of course I got the whole One Direction thing. On that level. But there were only ever two things that ever made me pay attention to them. The first was that photo circulating where Harry has a splitting resemblance to Rizzo in Grease. The second of course was Zayn. What a cutie. So Zayn took a leaf out of the Geri Halliwell playbook and went solo. He bode is time and has finally surfaced with the song that is currently spilling out of every pop loving teen's bedroom - Pillow Talk. It's not a bad solo debut by any standards. It's soulful in a kind of Craig David way, and it has crashed into the top of the charts around the world this week and outcharted pretty much every One Direction single in the process in most markets. When Geri left the Spice Girls and made the world stop for a few minutes while we all contemplated the consequences, she eventually resurfaced with something that was a little camp, a little sophisticated and a little unexpected when she dropped Look At Me. Zayn though, has simply gone the sexy route. The buck naked route. But, not him. Oh no, no, no. It's insight into how the music industry works. When you're a boy bander, whipping off your top with the strength of numbers is the done thing. But when you're a solo male artist, when it comes to videos, it's all about getting the girls to strip if you want to express your own sexy side. And that's where the crux of the matter is. If you're a solo female artist, you're gonna have to show some skin if you want to get your video out there. I lost count of how many gals got their kit off in the video for Pillow Talk. I'm sure there are hundreds of thousands of girls watching that video who are probably channeling their anger at each and everyone of those models in the clip right now. Hell, they've probably dipped some of their old Barbies in oil and are treating them like voodoo dolls. The indignation of getting naked with their boy! But from an adult's perspective it's kind of sad that Bouha Kazmi's video treatment has gone in this direction. Don't get me wrong, it's moody, it's effective and it matches the tone of the song even if Zayn seems to be keeping things a bit restrained. But I can't help but feeling like it's objectification of each of the ladies at every level while Zayn's images are bit more Flemish painting meets modern Noir in the boudoir. I find it kind of awkward in a way. There's one blink and you'll miss it scene where two of the girls are naked but for some boxing gloves. They're all oiled up and battling it out, and I really feel for one of the girls, because it looks as if as she goes in for the punch, the twenty five inch stilettos she's wearing slip on the sound stage and she has to correct herself. But that's what happens in paradise and a war zone. At the end of the day we have what could be shaping up to be one of the year's first big hits, and already over 60 million viewings on Youtube to prove me wrong. Or right. Because isn't a video of it's nature just another reminder to young girls that you've gotta be sexy, desirable and prepared to act like a bit of set dressing? Help me out here. I miss the nineties riot grrrls! In the space of 72 hours, Queen B has reconquered the lands.
But she's no Khaleesi you guys. She's no queen of nothing. Two years ago her hush hush album/video package took the world by storm. She didn't need any trumpeting, any fan fare, or a militia to bring everybody to attention. By the time she quietly popped it into the Itunes store and made herself a cuppa, it was already world news and a must have. This is a viral age. Cultural offerings spread faster than you can say Ebola or Zika these days. And few people know how to keep a lid on what they're doing until the very last moment like Queen Bey does. (I'm looking at you Madge.) On her last major outing, Queen B tried to take on her past. Her beauty queen past. Or as an amazingly talented friend of mine once said - her pageant pop past. Problem is, there's usually not that much novelty or grit on offer when a good girl goes bad when the drama is all based on being upset about being, you know, beautiful, talented, rich, successful and wanting to do something artsy and, serious to make up for it. To do it well, you need to add something else into the mix. And the best, most proven way to do this is to bring sex into the mix. That blueprint has proven almost fool proof (I'm looking at you again Madge). So, some of the best moments that came out of Beyonce were when that pageant hair really got messed up, QB got down and started riding surfborts and messing up Warhols with Jay Z. Drunk In Love in my books was the best artifact that from that period, along with the Martha Graeme inspired Mine which, not coincidentally, didn't make anywhere near the same kind of impact as DIL despite it being a Drake collab. Beyonce was a leap by her standards. An attempt to lend some artistry to a career that was already going great guns, but that was all highlights and foils. In a way it was a reinvention of sorts: the perfection of her past and the first step towards trying to bring the worlds of credibility and commerce together again. If you've any doubt that Queen B is on a mission, we need look no further into the past than this last weekend, in which the duality of her current state of mind as reigning pop queen have been put back on show for everyone to see. On Saturday, and out of the blue, Beyonce dropped the video for Formation. A dark, angry and empowering anti anthem- anti in the sense that it's not so much a sing a long as it as a war call. She came to slay, bitches. What she has delivered is a kind of Beyonce-ised, blistering take on the outrage that is palpable in America: on being a woman, on being black, on being marginalised in an already fractured, wounded society. She has essentially dived into a pool that is swirling with tensions powered by the Black Lives Matter movement and the growing sense of frustration that is ever more palpable. She has copped some flak for allegedly appropriating documentary imagery (the official line is that the footage wasn't owned by the film makers, and had been licensed for use by a third party which did own the rights) but beyond the rally call, she has also gotten people all hot and bothered again because of references to being, um, jammed hard and taking her man to Red Lobster as a thank you. References like the Red Lobster and the sassy take on Hot Sauce work on the same level as what made Drunk In Love so powerful. That is the idea of America's good girl not just getting nasty, but real nasty. But what makes Formation so interesting is that its get down and get nasty element isn't it's be all and end all like it was in Drunk In Love. It works better than any of QB's other forays into pop activism because it's more layered than anything else she has done before. She has essentially thrown down the gauntlet to those who don't see her as being layered and complex enough to have an opinion about what's going on around her, and what she's being subjected to. And that's an idea that took almost a decade to enter into her work, that she really only began fighting for with her fifth studio album. The other surprising aspect to this past weekend is that, in performing at the Superbowl, she took Formation to the masses. Usually, the Superbowl half time show is all about safety, familiarity and a showbiz excess. It had all that in the names it attracted - Bruno Mars and B have delivered it some of its highest ever ratings in the past - and the ensemble additions of Lady Gaga and Coldplay meant that every conceivable base was being covered. But rather than go in with a hits mentality, she brought her new, just dropped conversation starter to the stadiums and to television screens the world over. In doing that, she guaranteed that we'd be talking about her new song, the fact that she's finally building on her previous work rather than chasing the easy hits, and, oh, yes, conveniently announcing to the world that she's going back on the road. All in the lightning time span of six albums and three minutes. That is called bringing it home. WE are almost at the second anniversary of the airing of Never Tear Us Apart, the Australian telemovie/dramatisation of the story behind INXS. In addition to documenting the trials and tribulations of what was perhaps Australia's biggest commercial music act of all time, the drama remains a testament to just how powerful television remains as a taste maker. Back in February 2014, the Seven network in Australia created hysteria in airing a two part series which was created with the input of the band and the band's longtime manager Chris Murphy. It's no coincidence how prominently Chris Murphy features in the program. It was a light, made for TV special which beyond charting the band's rise documented how Michael Hutchence's charisma was so powerful that it eclipsed interest in all the other band members. As a fan of the band even I found it hard to keep track of the other characters. Hutchence was INXS and the telemovie didn't seem to dispel the notion. But in hindsight, the 2 parter has proven to be an incredible vehicle for the rediscovery of INXS as a musical band. It's true that for almost fifteen years, from the end of the 70s to the early 90s, when they reached their commercial peak, INXS' star was one in ascendency. Their star burnt its brightest with the phenomenal success of 1987's Kick which sold over ten million copies. Now, there are certain things that define success in Australia. At the heart of them is the uneasy sentiment that the Australian media conveys when a monster gets too big. It's what feeds the Tall Poppy Syndrome which is a huge part of the Aussie mentality. You see, Australia, unlike the US demands that even its most successful people display humility and a sense of community at all times. Basically, if you reach the stratosphere of success in Australia, the mathematics demand that the media will try to cut you down a peg or two, in order to remind you of where you stand in the community. The teleseries milks that idea: it was perhaps part of the reason why the band eventually fell out of flavour with the local media. But I would say that it wasn't really the reason why the band eventually fell out of standing with Australian audiences. INXS maintained their musical influence for years before their commercial downturn. But that downturn coincided with the splintering of popular music in the early 1990s. By then there was no prevailing sound that dominated the charts. You were just as likely to have a number one with a pop record as you were with a rap, rock or country song. And for a band that repeatedly perfected rather than experimented with its sound, there wasn't a lot of novelty on offer almost twenty years on. Theirs was a sound that was never really reinvented until it became a clear, and perhaps slightly desperate attempt on their parts to reconnect with mainstream audiences long after it was clear that the magic of their formula had started to fade. I finally got around to watching the series last night here, and I enjoyed it, for one because a friend of mine was in it, playing a journalist (hi Maria!) and she got the chance to be part of a crack about Adam Ant which I know would've made her day. The choice to use original INXS recordings throughout was genius as was the idea, if overused, of using actual crowd footage from some of INXS' most energetic gigs. Their early 90s Wembley gig is electrifying to watch. If you ever want to know where all the Aussies are in London, just check and see if there's a touring Aussie band in town. But, well, overall it's your typical, made for Australian television fare even if there is a nostalgic air to it for the most part. It's interesting to note that for the better part of the nineties, INXS rarely managed to make a dent in the music charts, both before and after Michael's death. Album after album after X (1990) struggled, as did their singles. The malaise had set in by then, despite their incredible back catalogue and achievements. But since the airing of the tele-series, their greatest hits album, The Very Best has remained firmly lodged in the Australian album charts. It has barely left the charts after rocketing back to #1 on the back of the series being televised. And for a band whose creative output since the passing of Michael has gone unnoticed (a reality TV show to find a replacement for Hutchence and a revolving door of replacement singers never got them back into the hearts of audiences - and is strategically ignored in the series), consistent sales of the greatest hits album has led to it being certified 5x platinum. Those platinum awards, and the ongoing resurgence of their music is more testament to the power of television than anything else. Who knew that the old faithful idiot box could still be king in the internet age and that nostalgia continues to trumps innovation? M.I.A made what was probably 2015's most powerful music video with Borders. It was powerful, sleek and one of the most humanist moments of her career to date. It's no coincidence that it has been listed as one of 2015's finest videos - no one else hits as hard for the international community. And no one else is as out there and willing to court the ire as much as she is, which makes anything she does a natural target for criticism. In the video for Borders, which you can see below if you haven't already, M.I.A forces us to look at borders and boundaries from a human perspective. It's populated by a choreographed mass of male refugees who disperse and reform to great effect - the naval arrangement is mind blowing - and powered along by M.I.A's amazing graphic touch. She was after all, a visual artist before she became a genre hopping music act. But M.I.A's graphic touch is what often gets her into trouble - and it's the case here. In the past her mimicry of symbols, slogans and icons have done a lot to help her take her place as one of the current era's most switched on and tuned in artists. But in Borders, she briefly dons a pirated football jersey - the Paris Saint-Germain jersey - adapted as only M.I.A knows how. The video, which has been flowing around for months has outraged the football club. They're convinced that M.I.A's appropriation of the jersey is somehow linking them to the inhumane aspects of the refugee crisis that the world hasn't ever seen the likes of. In a rambling kind of cease and desist letter, they note that as a football team they do so much for the community, that they are confused about how they can be seen to be responsible for the crisis and a whole lot of other blah blah blah - it's all about me - nonsense. It seems that M.I.A's track record with the football industry in general looks to keep continuing on its trajectory. Now that she's outraged the NFL and now the European leagues, what else can we look forward to? As an Australian I hope she can pull of something to get those smug AFL and Rugby leagues to come down off their perch a bit. Then she could probably make it global with a bit more uproar in Asia and South America. Seriously. Does nobody understand irony anymore? Do overpaid legal teams have nothing else left to do? It's M.I.A actually wearing the top that has got people all hot and bothered. I get that we're moving into seriously paranoid waters but can we just get over it? Can we actually celebrate an artist without threatening her with a law suit? Seeing that jersey made me chuckle when I saw it. But clearly I'm an idiot because I should've interpreted it as likening the PSG squad to human barbarians. And how its inclusion in a clip that the mainstream shamefully have been ignoring has the potential to strip and crumble that poor little organisation, sending it into the ground and burying its... oh I can't even be bothered. Watch it here before all the paralegals at Youtube start panicking and start stripping its presence from the web. They may well do that, but they certainly can't strip it of its eloquence. Hugh Jackman is stirring up those 007 rumours again. I love me a bit of Hugh Jackman - he's a great guy and very talented, but I think we all know who the next Bond should be.
Penn. Sean Penn. Sean Penn is going to save the world. One impossible issue at a time. Once he is done with that, I reckon he'll be able to knock out a Bond role with a difference. It'll be Oscar worthy, though he won't accept his trophy at the ceremony. He is softening up, so maybe he'll send in a video message from somewhere in the company of drug king pins or from one of his projects around the world. And once Sean Penn is done doing all of that, maybe Madonna is going to take him back. That is, if she can get past the barrage of criticism about her mothering skills. At least someone is here to stick up for her. We have entered into that terrible window of the year when it becomes the norm to be subjected to Christmas carols. And crap Christmas pop sung by pop acts who caved and went straight down the filthy, hard cash route. You know how some people have a psychological aversion to clowns? Well, I don't have that, but I have a very similar reaction when I have to listen to these kinds of songs. You know, the ones that you find behind the silver/red/white packaging that harp on about peace and good tidings when you know all the singers are thinking about are the dollar signs they can't see past. I think I can trace all of this back to my days in retail, back when I was a university student. I used to have to listen to Mariah damn Carey's original Christmas album on loop, from like, October. The effect? If I hear sleigh bells now, it makes me want to slash the throat of the first reindeer that passes. I don't think that was Carey's intention you know, but we all deal with trauma in our own way. Anyhoo, can something good come out of this kind of thing? Maybe? I mean, the Christmas spirit is strong, and was strong enough to bring Kylie and Dannii together on a record for the first time ever. There are still echelons of the gay gasp being heard in Australia and beyond. That 100 Degrees song sounds like it should've been on the Priscilla soundtrack, so how fitting that it seems to have inspired a drag, flash mob on Sydney's Bondi Beach. Watch it if you're up for a bit of a giggle and enjoy the ongoing Kylie/Dannii 'rivalry'. Have to say it was good for a chuckle, and a timely reminder that Christmas is not about snow, eggnog and mistletoe, but rather, surf, sand and sun! READERS of this blog will know that I am one of the enlightened few who knows that when it comes to just about everything, Japan is superior. Now, by everything, I mean everything related to popular culture. The force is awakening and we're going to be hopping mad about Star Wars all over again. Which means that you're going to see more and more Star Wars merchandise over the coming weeks. But let me remind you that if a novel idea exists, it exists in the Land of the Rising Sun. Because the Japanese are light years ahead of us when it comes to exploiting pop culture for all it's worth. And turning a pretty buck while they're at it. Here are just a handful of the smart and quirky ways that Star Wars iconography has been put to use in my mother land. Look at Vader playing nice in this old ad for the AU mobile service. Just wanna have a nice little snapchat with him! I'm a complete nerd, and having studied Japanese art history, I love me a bit of rinpa or rimpa. There's something about a bit of gold leaf that just never goes out of style. In the past, artists produced large format screens so that they could show the force of Buddhist deities in a series of myths and legends. These days, artists like Taro Yamamoto are paying tribute, but using more contemporary figures like Jedis in the same settings. But only in Japan could you organise for a couple of storm troopers to stand guard while the screens are used to promote the upcoming film. If you ever go to Japan and are lost as to what to bring home as a present or souvenir, my philosophy is that you can't go wrong with a good noren. Noren are the lovely woven bolts of fabric that hang in Japanese doorways, whose designs are often symbolic of the seasons or events in the annual calendar. They're also used to signpost commercial businesses which is important in a place like Kyoto where electronic signage is often forbidden in the central, historic area.
Using the same screen printing philosophy, these amazing printed nassen, I think you'll agree, are a great mix of the Japanese aesthetic and certain iconic characters from the Star Wars canon. Nassen are like the relatives of noren. It's all about the unique textile and the dyes. There are things that I'm sure you think of when you think of the word Italy. For some of you I'm sure your thoughts around different plates and dishes. Others among you will have ideas about warm, sultry Mediterranean nights and, um, Latin lovers. Me, well, especially during this period I tend to associate it with an ineffective postal service and constant banging the head against the wall the minute something beuracratic needs doing. Well, cast aside your thoughts about pizza, pasta and olive skin. You can now associate Italy with breakdancing. Yep! The world has a new champion breakdancer. He's Italian and he entered the Guiness Book of Records by way of a shopping centre. All hail Stefano Maso. SO, 2015 is nearly up and instead of making a list about the best things that did happen, I'm focusing instead on the best things that didn't happen again this year. Let's face it, it was a shitty year. But it could've been worse.
1. EVERYBODY STOPPED TALKING ABOUT MICHAEL SAM OK, don't get me wrong. Michael Sam is F-I-N-E. Now, I don't know anything about the NFL, but after more than a year of reading about Michael Sam I'm still none the wiser. How is it possible that in this day and age so much media hype was devoted to someone who never got given the chance to do what he was trained to do? Instead he was reduced to a DWTS contestant, a possible Grindr user and a target for more blatant homophobia from industry and media alike. 2. FROZEN BECAME A DISTANT MEMORY I'm chalking this one up to ice bucket territory. You know, global warming actually achieved something positive. I think Global Warming should've been Time's 2015 person of the year for making all the Frozen stuff stop. Not Angela Merkel. 3. GREECE'S AND EUROPE'S ECONOMIC WOES SUDDENLY DISAPPEARED Speaking of Merkel, wow, what a difference a year can make. She went from being the devil to Europe's savior. That actually happened during 2015. But I'm really happy for Greece. Because if you trust the media, the Greek/EU financial crisis went the way of Ebola. It just disappeared. Seems like we can only handle one international crisis at a time. 4. BAE WENT THE WAY OF HASHTAG Okay, I hate BAE. Really. Talk about the dumbing down of society. BAE is the literary equivalent of your Facebook friends who post unquantified research that makes all kinds of claims. You know, like yoghurt cures cancer or that sprinkling dirt on your toast reverses Parkinsons. BAE turned out to be 2015's hashtag. Glad people stopped using that. Except Merlene from Project Runway. I loved her for doing it. 5. WE STOPPED TALKING ABOUT BEN AFFLECK'S PEEN Instead we focused on how much of a dick he is. See, we can make progress as a race. What are you thankful for. |
Dave
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Dave Di Vito is a writer, teacher and former curator.He's also the author of the Vinyl Tiger series and Replace The Sky.
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