Dear followers
After Amy Winehouse's funeral earlier today, The London Evening Standard quoted George Michael's view that "she should be remembered as one of the greatest singer-songwriters of all time." Of all time? Really?
Only those without an ounce of compassion could fail to be moved by the tragically early death of a highly talented young woman who should have had many more decades of music in her - although the cold blooded slaughter of dozens of innocent young Norwegians the day before should put Winehouse's sad but ultimately self-inflicted descent into a wretched abyss of addiction in perspective. But in the aftermath of any artist's death, especially a premature one, too many observers instinctively fall over themselves in search of gushing superlatives rather than offering a more objective, rational appraisal of the individual's true legacy. This is in some ways understandable, as noone wants to seem churlish or mean spirited in such circumstances, but nevertheless, The Sage intends to debunk the fast-emerging myth that Winehouse warrants a place in the pantheon of musical geniuses.
First, the evidence in favour of her greatness. She was certainly incredibly popular in the UK - Back To Black was the country's best selling album of 2007, and also got to number 2 in the notoriously hard to conquer American chart. At the precocious age of 19, her debut record Frank was nominated for the Mercury Music Prize. Her voice was an expressive, smoky delight, rich in the kind of world-weary emotion that one would expect from a veteran of the Deep South soul scene rather than a young Jewish girl from Finchley; her songwriting confident and effortlessly 'classic' from the start. Furthermore, she was the first of a new generation of distinctive, adventurous young British female singer-songwriters that has gradually broken through over the past decade, paving the way for the likes of Florence and the Machine and Adele, as they themselves acknowledge.
But when we talk about the greatest singer-songwriters there have ever been, the Sage thinks of names like Bob Dylan - or, if you prefer something a bit more upbeat, Michael Jackson. Winehouse released two albums - these artists have been consistently great for decades. Songs like Knockin' On Heaven's Door, Blowin' In The Wind, Thriller and Billie Jean are part of pop music's indelible history, known across the world and across generations. Will many people be able to name a Winehouse song in 30 years time?
Even the next tier down from the absolute greats, there's a strong argument that someone like Kate Bush, with her unique voice, enduring if fitful recording career and highly innovative stage presence, is a far more significant and influential British artist than Winehouse, who for all her flair and appeal wasn't ever actually doing anything that hasn't been done before.
Much has been written over the past few days about the '27 club', the unusually large number of iconic popular musicians who died at that age, often as the result of substance abuse or psychological torment. Once again, Winehouse's inclusion in that hallowed list strikes the Sage as glib convenience rather than a true reflection of her talent. Jimi Hendrix revolutionised the way rock music's most emblematic instrument was played, inspiring countless other guitarists that have followed in his wake. Kurt Cobain dragged alternative rock music kicking and screaming into the mainstream. Like Dylan and Jackson, they and other members of the '27 club' such as Jim Morrison created an impact and a body of work that continues to resonate today.
The key thing about Hendrix, Morrison and Cobain is that their early demise, while undeniably an important factor in their popularity, does not define them as artists. Unfortunately, one suspects that Amy Winehouse will probably be remembered more for going spectacularly off the rails than for what she achieved when she was on track, which to be brutally honest fell some way short of the accolades bestowed upon her since her untimely demise.
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
Who will win The Apprentice - The Sage's thoughts & prediction
Dear followers
Before this series, The Sage always remained resolutely aloof from the addictive appeal of The Apprentice, bar a fleeting week or two of interest when the blonde Brummie girl made the final a couple of years back. But a Wednesday night at home on the Stockwell sofa back in May coincided with the launch of Lord Sugar's 2011 search for his new business partner, and lo and behold, I haven't missed an episode since.
The Sage is unsure what makes the programme so gripping. Perhaps it's Lord Sugar himself, who ascends imperiously to the boardroom in his glass lift like a Cockney Ming the Merciless before ritually humiliating the contestants with his withering assessments of their performance. You also have the would-be entrepreneurs themselves, who habitually display a daunting level of self belief only matched by their sometimes staggering lack of intelligence. The tasks they undertake are well-thought out, varied and easy even for those of us with zero business knowledge to understand, which is useful as several of this year's participants seemed to fall under that category. But above all, this is a competition, and while we all enjoy the first 50 minutes, it's the final 10 when the three potential victims turn on each other like wild beasts before one is fired that we all look forward to.
Now we're at the final stage, and to be honest, with the possible exception of Melody (who was immensely pretentious but generally pretty sharp, she even spoke French!) it's difficult to argue with the make up of the last four. Natasha, who got commendably far considering she is essentially a brunette Vicky Pollard in a trouser suit, simply had to go. However, there was also a strong case to fire Tom for comprehensively destroying the myth that he is some kind of bumbling genius by claiming that Christopher Columbus was British, which The Sage would expect the average 10 year old to correct. Mind you, Natasha probably thinks he's a recently deceased American detective in a brown overcoat.
Despite his unforgivable display of historical ignorance, I will be supporting Tom on Sunday night. His detractors will rightly point out that he's lost a lot more tasks than he's won over the series as a whole, and he can come across as too mild-mannered and indecisive. But when it comes to delivering a well-structured, innovative business plan and coming across as both clever and likeable in an interview, you have to fancy his chances.
Of the other three contenders, The Sage believes Jim can almost certainly be discounted, despite his now legendary mind games and apparent boardroom invulnerability. Yes, he's more slippery than an eel-shaped bar of soap and could talk the hind legs, tail and testicles off the proverbial donkey, but when it comes down to it, he's a salesman rather than a businessman and I expect him to finally get found out at the death.
With her flawless make-up, genial diplomacy and perfect pitches, Helen sailed serenely through the first nine weeks looking like the winner in waiting, but was badly ruffled on the 'smell what sells task' and the Sage has a hunch that she may also wilt when put under pressure. There is something strangely robotic about her, and the suspicion is that she's a great organiser and facilitator of other people's ideas rather than an innovator in her own right. Plus she stated in her audition that she has 'no social life and no personal life, I live for my work' which is terribly unfair on the menfolk of her native Northumberland, who deserve more than just sheep for company at the weekend.
The real dark horse is Susan. Despite being almost as stupid as Natasha and possibly even more annoying, the fact that she started her first business at the age of three and yaps like a demented puppy at anyone who crosses her seems to have endeared her to Lord Sugar. To be fair, she's probably had to work harder than anyone to get to where she is in life, and is seeking to conquer the world of commerce at an age when most people are either preparing for their university finals, going out getting hideously drunk several times a week, or both. But does this mean she deserves to win? In The Sage's view, no it doesn't.
So it's prediction time, and The Sage will go for Tom to win, with Susan in second. The words 'bullshit' and 'Jim' will appear in a sentence together on more than one occasion, Nick Hewer will raise his eyebrows in despair at least seven times, and Lord Sugar will announce his final verdict surrounded by a phalanx of Daleks before obliterating the losers with a particle dispersing laser. Well perhaps The Sage is getting a bit carried away with the last bit, but it should all be jolly good fun to watch nevertheless.
Bring on Sunday!
Regards
The Sage
Before this series, The Sage always remained resolutely aloof from the addictive appeal of The Apprentice, bar a fleeting week or two of interest when the blonde Brummie girl made the final a couple of years back. But a Wednesday night at home on the Stockwell sofa back in May coincided with the launch of Lord Sugar's 2011 search for his new business partner, and lo and behold, I haven't missed an episode since.
The Sage is unsure what makes the programme so gripping. Perhaps it's Lord Sugar himself, who ascends imperiously to the boardroom in his glass lift like a Cockney Ming the Merciless before ritually humiliating the contestants with his withering assessments of their performance. You also have the would-be entrepreneurs themselves, who habitually display a daunting level of self belief only matched by their sometimes staggering lack of intelligence. The tasks they undertake are well-thought out, varied and easy even for those of us with zero business knowledge to understand, which is useful as several of this year's participants seemed to fall under that category. But above all, this is a competition, and while we all enjoy the first 50 minutes, it's the final 10 when the three potential victims turn on each other like wild beasts before one is fired that we all look forward to.
Now we're at the final stage, and to be honest, with the possible exception of Melody (who was immensely pretentious but generally pretty sharp, she even spoke French!) it's difficult to argue with the make up of the last four. Natasha, who got commendably far considering she is essentially a brunette Vicky Pollard in a trouser suit, simply had to go. However, there was also a strong case to fire Tom for comprehensively destroying the myth that he is some kind of bumbling genius by claiming that Christopher Columbus was British, which The Sage would expect the average 10 year old to correct. Mind you, Natasha probably thinks he's a recently deceased American detective in a brown overcoat.
Despite his unforgivable display of historical ignorance, I will be supporting Tom on Sunday night. His detractors will rightly point out that he's lost a lot more tasks than he's won over the series as a whole, and he can come across as too mild-mannered and indecisive. But when it comes to delivering a well-structured, innovative business plan and coming across as both clever and likeable in an interview, you have to fancy his chances.
Of the other three contenders, The Sage believes Jim can almost certainly be discounted, despite his now legendary mind games and apparent boardroom invulnerability. Yes, he's more slippery than an eel-shaped bar of soap and could talk the hind legs, tail and testicles off the proverbial donkey, but when it comes down to it, he's a salesman rather than a businessman and I expect him to finally get found out at the death.
With her flawless make-up, genial diplomacy and perfect pitches, Helen sailed serenely through the first nine weeks looking like the winner in waiting, but was badly ruffled on the 'smell what sells task' and the Sage has a hunch that she may also wilt when put under pressure. There is something strangely robotic about her, and the suspicion is that she's a great organiser and facilitator of other people's ideas rather than an innovator in her own right. Plus she stated in her audition that she has 'no social life and no personal life, I live for my work' which is terribly unfair on the menfolk of her native Northumberland, who deserve more than just sheep for company at the weekend.
The real dark horse is Susan. Despite being almost as stupid as Natasha and possibly even more annoying, the fact that she started her first business at the age of three and yaps like a demented puppy at anyone who crosses her seems to have endeared her to Lord Sugar. To be fair, she's probably had to work harder than anyone to get to where she is in life, and is seeking to conquer the world of commerce at an age when most people are either preparing for their university finals, going out getting hideously drunk several times a week, or both. But does this mean she deserves to win? In The Sage's view, no it doesn't.
So it's prediction time, and The Sage will go for Tom to win, with Susan in second. The words 'bullshit' and 'Jim' will appear in a sentence together on more than one occasion, Nick Hewer will raise his eyebrows in despair at least seven times, and Lord Sugar will announce his final verdict surrounded by a phalanx of Daleks before obliterating the losers with a particle dispersing laser. Well perhaps The Sage is getting a bit carried away with the last bit, but it should all be jolly good fun to watch nevertheless.
Bring on Sunday!
Regards
The Sage
Friday, 8 July 2011
What does the demise of The News Of The World mean to us?
This Sunday, millions of British people will face an unexpected and potentially challenging decision. After 168 years of relying on The News Of The World to keep them updated on all the crucial issues going on in the world, they may have to do the unthinkable and - gasp - buy a proper newspaper instead!
Of course, they'll probably just take the easy option and switch seamlessly to The Mail, which is a bit like discovering Katie Price has moved out of your flat and shacking up with Kerry Katona as a classier alternative. But the demise of TNOTW is nevertheless highly significant, and not only because even Observer-reading lefties like The Sage have to concede that it's Britain's - indeed, the English language's - best selling newspaper.
Many commentators are suggesting that pulling the plug on an irretrievably tainted brand is merely a cunning ruse by News International to sidestep the real issues of wider organisational culpability, cutting off a gangrenous limb in order to save the rest of the body. Most expect 'The Sun On Sunday' or something equally predictable to be launched in its stead sooner rather than later once the dust has settled a little, allowing Murdoch and his 'evil empire' to continue business as usual.
This may well all be true, but The Sage is cautiously optimistic that this appalling episode also represents a defining sea change in the way newspapers operate in this country. For the past few decades, our press has steadily become more and more sleazy and ammoral, willing to take any steps necessary to obtain stories that will sell. The rampant celebrity culture is part of this problem, but the man on the street's reaction to a private investigator hacking the phone of a footballer or actor who can't keep their trousers on generally ranges from mild disapproval on whether it's 'in the public interest' to bored indifference. Allegedly hacking the phones of ordinary people - including a teenage murder victim and the relatives of servicemen and women killed in action - takes things to a whole new level of callous, unethical insensitivity. Even the most rabidly bigoted, sensation-loving red top reader must surely abhor the depths to which the NOTW is accused of plunging.
Who knows how many newspapers have employed similarly base practices in the past, but one things for sure, they won't be doing it any more, as the risk of exposure and subsequent excoriation by the whole of British society is simply too great. Even if a sizeable chunk of their readers stick with them, this week has proved that the all-important corporate advertisers almost certainly won't, and David Cameron's promised judicial enquiry will inevitably result in closer regulatory scrutiny of press behaviour. Furthermore, in the wake of this scandal all party leaders will also presumably go out of their way to avoid being too closely linked with Murdoch and his ilk, which will hopefully reduce the media's all too pervasive influence on political matters.
Freedom of the press is an integral part of this country's guiding principles, and should never be compromised by governments or anyone else. But newspapers themselves also have a duty to maintain certain standards of decency and moral conduct as part of this process. By dragging their profession to the very bottom of the gutter, The Sage can only hope that TNOTW has shamed its peers into making sure that nothing like this ever happens again.
Of course, they'll probably just take the easy option and switch seamlessly to The Mail, which is a bit like discovering Katie Price has moved out of your flat and shacking up with Kerry Katona as a classier alternative. But the demise of TNOTW is nevertheless highly significant, and not only because even Observer-reading lefties like The Sage have to concede that it's Britain's - indeed, the English language's - best selling newspaper.
Many commentators are suggesting that pulling the plug on an irretrievably tainted brand is merely a cunning ruse by News International to sidestep the real issues of wider organisational culpability, cutting off a gangrenous limb in order to save the rest of the body. Most expect 'The Sun On Sunday' or something equally predictable to be launched in its stead sooner rather than later once the dust has settled a little, allowing Murdoch and his 'evil empire' to continue business as usual.
This may well all be true, but The Sage is cautiously optimistic that this appalling episode also represents a defining sea change in the way newspapers operate in this country. For the past few decades, our press has steadily become more and more sleazy and ammoral, willing to take any steps necessary to obtain stories that will sell. The rampant celebrity culture is part of this problem, but the man on the street's reaction to a private investigator hacking the phone of a footballer or actor who can't keep their trousers on generally ranges from mild disapproval on whether it's 'in the public interest' to bored indifference. Allegedly hacking the phones of ordinary people - including a teenage murder victim and the relatives of servicemen and women killed in action - takes things to a whole new level of callous, unethical insensitivity. Even the most rabidly bigoted, sensation-loving red top reader must surely abhor the depths to which the NOTW is accused of plunging.
Who knows how many newspapers have employed similarly base practices in the past, but one things for sure, they won't be doing it any more, as the risk of exposure and subsequent excoriation by the whole of British society is simply too great. Even if a sizeable chunk of their readers stick with them, this week has proved that the all-important corporate advertisers almost certainly won't, and David Cameron's promised judicial enquiry will inevitably result in closer regulatory scrutiny of press behaviour. Furthermore, in the wake of this scandal all party leaders will also presumably go out of their way to avoid being too closely linked with Murdoch and his ilk, which will hopefully reduce the media's all too pervasive influence on political matters.
Freedom of the press is an integral part of this country's guiding principles, and should never be compromised by governments or anyone else. But newspapers themselves also have a duty to maintain certain standards of decency and moral conduct as part of this process. By dragging their profession to the very bottom of the gutter, The Sage can only hope that TNOTW has shamed its peers into making sure that nothing like this ever happens again.
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
The Sage Of Stockwell - recent musical meanderings
Dear followers
The Sage has been busy of late writing album and gig reviews for the BBC and in particular the excellent Music OMH site. Please see below some recent recommendations, with links to some clips of the artists' work:
For dance music/electronica fans:
Junior Boys review
Clip of Junior Boys - Banana Ripple
Blanck Mass review
Clip of Blanck Mass - Chernobyl
Basement Jaxx Vs. Metropole Orkest review
Clip of Basement Jaxx Vs. Metropole Orkest - Where's Your Head At
Planningtorock review
Clip of Planningtorock - Doorway
For rock/indie fans:
The Pierces review
Clip of The Pierces - You'll Be Mine
Timber Timbre review
Clip of Timber Timbre - Keep On Creepin' On
Pajaro Sunrise review
Clip of Pajaro Sunrise - Song For Evangeline
The Blue Aeroplanes review
Clip of The Blue Aeroplanes - 25 Kinds Of Love
For world/folk music fans:
Vieux Farka Toure review
Clip of Vieux Farka Toure featuring Dave Matthews - All The Same
and one to avoid...
Gyratory System review
Clip of Gyratory System - New Harmony
Enjoy!
The Sage
The Sage has been busy of late writing album and gig reviews for the BBC and in particular the excellent Music OMH site. Please see below some recent recommendations, with links to some clips of the artists' work:
For dance music/electronica fans:
Junior Boys review
Clip of Junior Boys - Banana Ripple
Blanck Mass review
Clip of Blanck Mass - Chernobyl
Basement Jaxx Vs. Metropole Orkest review
Clip of Basement Jaxx Vs. Metropole Orkest - Where's Your Head At
Planningtorock review
Clip of Planningtorock - Doorway
For rock/indie fans:
The Pierces review
Clip of The Pierces - You'll Be Mine
Timber Timbre review
Clip of Timber Timbre - Keep On Creepin' On
Pajaro Sunrise review
Clip of Pajaro Sunrise - Song For Evangeline
The Blue Aeroplanes review
Clip of The Blue Aeroplanes - 25 Kinds Of Love
For world/folk music fans:
Vieux Farka Toure review
Clip of Vieux Farka Toure featuring Dave Matthews - All The Same
and one to avoid...
Gyratory System review
Clip of Gyratory System - New Harmony
Enjoy!
The Sage
Sunday, 15 May 2011
The Sage's Eurovision
Dear followers
Most of you probably don't require the wisdom of the Sage to point out the inherent absurdity of the Eurovision Song Contest. Unlike the rest of the continent, the British and Irish view this event for what it is, a ridiculous high camp pageant populated by over-excitable foreigners belting out dreadful slices of hi-energy pop pap or cringingly over the top power ballads, normally while wearing a silly costume and surrounded by dancers who look like they've been recruited in an Amsterdam S&M club. And of course, it's not really a competition at all, as everyone just votes for their neighbours regardless of whether their song is any good or not.
So it was with a heavy heart that the Sage settled down on his Stockwell sofa last night armed with a family pack of Hula Hoops to watch this year's event unfold in all its customary awfulness. Things got off to a bad start when it became apparent that Eurovision 2011 was being hosted by the Germans, which meant a presenting team consisting of two towering, impassive ice maidens and a bearded man who looked like he'd be much more comfortable sat in a Bavarian bierkeller in a lederhosen, yet is apparently 'Germany's answer to Simon Cowell'. At least us Brits had cheeky chappie Graham Norton's bitchy observations to entertain us, although it was disappointing that Norton occasionally seemed to be enjoying himself, while his predecessor Terry Wogan never failed to make clear he knew it was all utter tosh.
Anyway, before long we were into the acts themselves, kicking off with a very earnest blonde Finnish youth singing a drippy little song about saving the planet. Then it was on to the usual line up of caterwauling Lithuanians, Hungarian drag queens and Georgian death metal, with Blue and Jedward thrown in for good measure. The pre-event favourite was apparently France, which was somewhat bizarre as their singer had clearly entered the competition by mistake after taking the wrong exit off the autobahn on the way to the Berlin State Opera. Unsurprisingly he fared very badly, prompting his countrymen to stick two fingers up to the organisers by being the only nation to announce their votes in their own language rather than English, which should have resulted in instant disqualification.
In the end, Azerbaijan's dreadfully bland, inoffensive ditty saw off the challenge of the Italian jazz band and the Swedish rent boy to win the crown, following the usual voting farce which the decision to decide 50% of each country's verdict by an expert jury made absolutely no difference to whatsoever. So the Portuguese still voted for the Spanish, the Austrians voted for the Germans and the host of new post-communist nations voted randomly for each other. How tiresomely predictable.
In the Sage's view, Moldova should clearly have won. A hilarious combination of tuneless shouting, frantic trumpeting and preposterously large dunce hats, their song was comfortably the worst of the night and should have been rewarded accordingly. The British and Irish, as stated previously the only two nations who grasp the true purpose of Eurovision, recognised this fact and both placed the Moldovans in their top three.
A word or two about Blue, who avoided the humiliation of many recent British entries but still only finished in mid-table. Clearly the thinking was that an ageing but still game boy band who have a decent fanbase around Europe would stand a good chance of doing very well. Wrong. That Blue are bad enough to mount a strong bid for the Eurovision title is not in question. They are and always have been terrible. The problem is, they don't know it, and insist on maintaining they are serious artists instead of recognising they're shit, relaxing and camping it up for all they're worth. You don't win Eurovision by trying to be good, you win it by jumping around manically and gurning at the camera while wearing the sort of outfits that would have been rejected by the Village People as too extreme.
Britain has another overwhelming disadvantage when it comes to the Eurovision Song Contest. Unlike the rest of Europe, we actually produce good music. It's important to understand this point and also to remember that the artists we routinely dismiss as laughably bad on Eurovision are genuinely regarded as the cream of their nation's talent by our continental cousins and are what most of them actually enjoy listening to all the time. The need to cater for this market gives them a huge range of suitable representatives from which to choose, all of whom know instinctively how to appeal to the cross-border masses of Europeans with no taste.
In short, the nation that gave the world The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, David Bowie and Led Zeppelin quite simply doesn't stand a chance.
Regards
The Sage
Most of you probably don't require the wisdom of the Sage to point out the inherent absurdity of the Eurovision Song Contest. Unlike the rest of the continent, the British and Irish view this event for what it is, a ridiculous high camp pageant populated by over-excitable foreigners belting out dreadful slices of hi-energy pop pap or cringingly over the top power ballads, normally while wearing a silly costume and surrounded by dancers who look like they've been recruited in an Amsterdam S&M club. And of course, it's not really a competition at all, as everyone just votes for their neighbours regardless of whether their song is any good or not.
So it was with a heavy heart that the Sage settled down on his Stockwell sofa last night armed with a family pack of Hula Hoops to watch this year's event unfold in all its customary awfulness. Things got off to a bad start when it became apparent that Eurovision 2011 was being hosted by the Germans, which meant a presenting team consisting of two towering, impassive ice maidens and a bearded man who looked like he'd be much more comfortable sat in a Bavarian bierkeller in a lederhosen, yet is apparently 'Germany's answer to Simon Cowell'. At least us Brits had cheeky chappie Graham Norton's bitchy observations to entertain us, although it was disappointing that Norton occasionally seemed to be enjoying himself, while his predecessor Terry Wogan never failed to make clear he knew it was all utter tosh.
Anyway, before long we were into the acts themselves, kicking off with a very earnest blonde Finnish youth singing a drippy little song about saving the planet. Then it was on to the usual line up of caterwauling Lithuanians, Hungarian drag queens and Georgian death metal, with Blue and Jedward thrown in for good measure. The pre-event favourite was apparently France, which was somewhat bizarre as their singer had clearly entered the competition by mistake after taking the wrong exit off the autobahn on the way to the Berlin State Opera. Unsurprisingly he fared very badly, prompting his countrymen to stick two fingers up to the organisers by being the only nation to announce their votes in their own language rather than English, which should have resulted in instant disqualification.
In the end, Azerbaijan's dreadfully bland, inoffensive ditty saw off the challenge of the Italian jazz band and the Swedish rent boy to win the crown, following the usual voting farce which the decision to decide 50% of each country's verdict by an expert jury made absolutely no difference to whatsoever. So the Portuguese still voted for the Spanish, the Austrians voted for the Germans and the host of new post-communist nations voted randomly for each other. How tiresomely predictable.
In the Sage's view, Moldova should clearly have won. A hilarious combination of tuneless shouting, frantic trumpeting and preposterously large dunce hats, their song was comfortably the worst of the night and should have been rewarded accordingly. The British and Irish, as stated previously the only two nations who grasp the true purpose of Eurovision, recognised this fact and both placed the Moldovans in their top three.
A word or two about Blue, who avoided the humiliation of many recent British entries but still only finished in mid-table. Clearly the thinking was that an ageing but still game boy band who have a decent fanbase around Europe would stand a good chance of doing very well. Wrong. That Blue are bad enough to mount a strong bid for the Eurovision title is not in question. They are and always have been terrible. The problem is, they don't know it, and insist on maintaining they are serious artists instead of recognising they're shit, relaxing and camping it up for all they're worth. You don't win Eurovision by trying to be good, you win it by jumping around manically and gurning at the camera while wearing the sort of outfits that would have been rejected by the Village People as too extreme.
Britain has another overwhelming disadvantage when it comes to the Eurovision Song Contest. Unlike the rest of Europe, we actually produce good music. It's important to understand this point and also to remember that the artists we routinely dismiss as laughably bad on Eurovision are genuinely regarded as the cream of their nation's talent by our continental cousins and are what most of them actually enjoy listening to all the time. The need to cater for this market gives them a huge range of suitable representatives from which to choose, all of whom know instinctively how to appeal to the cross-border masses of Europeans with no taste.
In short, the nation that gave the world The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, David Bowie and Led Zeppelin quite simply doesn't stand a chance.
Regards
The Sage
Friday, 29 April 2011
The Sage's Royal Wedding
Now before you ask, The Sage hasn't been suddenly snapped up by an ageing and desperate cougar countess from Scleswig Holstein. But in my view today's royal wedding was an extremely significant moment in British history as, rightly or wrongly, it secured the future of the monarchy for the forseeable future.
My views on the royal family are somewhat ambivalent. Looking at the subject logically, there's really no place in a modern democracy for such an outdated anachronism, an institution that promotes both sexual and religious discrimination by clinging on to the highly dubious practices of primogeniture and barring both Catholics and those married to a Catholic from the succession. The House of Windsor stands at the apex of an age-old, debilitating class system that is still the biggest barrier to a genuine meritocracy in the UK.
On the other hand, only the most fervent republicans would dispute that our royal family, by far the most famous in the world, is integral to the image of Britain across the globe, a unique selling point that makes us stand out from both our European neighbours and 'new money' nations like the US. The Civil List can be seen as grossly unjust, but at a cost of just under 70p per person per year many would argue that they're good value considering the amount of tourism revenue they bring into the country and the roles of some more worthy family members as national ambassadors.
Struggling with these two opposing viewpoints, The Sage sat down on his Stockwell sofa this morning with a Guatamalan coffee and tuned into the coverage, which was the usual mix of glittering pageantry, sycophantic gushing from fawning commentators and breathless interviews with often hysterical Union Jack clad spectators. William looked nervous and awkward as usual, Kate scrubbed up rather well in her lovely dress, the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh continue to look remarkably spry for octogenarians and Prince Andrew's ghastly ginger daughters were the runaway winners of the worst hats competition.
The throngs of well wishers lining the Mall and outside the Abbey, some from as far afield as the Americas and the Antipodes and prepared to camp out for hours or even days to catch a glimpse of the newly weds, are the main reason the monarchy won't be abolished any time soon.
The royal obsessives are simply so much more numerous, vocal and committed than the still thin voices of republican dissent. Such is the hope and love they feel for William, with his Diana connection and his pretty new English rose 'commoner' bride, they'll be able to grit their teeth through the reign of his far less popular father to wait for their true king to ascend triumphantly to the throne. Which with the longevity of the Windsor genes will probably take us to at least 2050. Only in that distant future will the next generation of royals be scrutinised more thoroughly.
In the meantime, those of us in the middle will continue to view the monarchy with largely benign detachment, taking a passing interest in the great occasions of state (apparently today wasn't 'a state wedding' ... yeah right, obviously the father of the bride paid for everything didn't he?) but lacking the will to rock the constitutional boat. The British people seem to feel most comfortable harking back to what we perceive as our glorious past, rather than looking forward to a more uncertain future in the world.
On that note, the Sage intends to make another coffee and turn the TV back on, probably to be confronted by Fern Britten interviewing a man who once sold a pint of milk to the new Duchess of Cambridge in a St Andrews Tesco Metro.
God Save The Queen!
Regards
The Sage
My views on the royal family are somewhat ambivalent. Looking at the subject logically, there's really no place in a modern democracy for such an outdated anachronism, an institution that promotes both sexual and religious discrimination by clinging on to the highly dubious practices of primogeniture and barring both Catholics and those married to a Catholic from the succession. The House of Windsor stands at the apex of an age-old, debilitating class system that is still the biggest barrier to a genuine meritocracy in the UK.
On the other hand, only the most fervent republicans would dispute that our royal family, by far the most famous in the world, is integral to the image of Britain across the globe, a unique selling point that makes us stand out from both our European neighbours and 'new money' nations like the US. The Civil List can be seen as grossly unjust, but at a cost of just under 70p per person per year many would argue that they're good value considering the amount of tourism revenue they bring into the country and the roles of some more worthy family members as national ambassadors.
Struggling with these two opposing viewpoints, The Sage sat down on his Stockwell sofa this morning with a Guatamalan coffee and tuned into the coverage, which was the usual mix of glittering pageantry, sycophantic gushing from fawning commentators and breathless interviews with often hysterical Union Jack clad spectators. William looked nervous and awkward as usual, Kate scrubbed up rather well in her lovely dress, the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh continue to look remarkably spry for octogenarians and Prince Andrew's ghastly ginger daughters were the runaway winners of the worst hats competition.
The throngs of well wishers lining the Mall and outside the Abbey, some from as far afield as the Americas and the Antipodes and prepared to camp out for hours or even days to catch a glimpse of the newly weds, are the main reason the monarchy won't be abolished any time soon.
The royal obsessives are simply so much more numerous, vocal and committed than the still thin voices of republican dissent. Such is the hope and love they feel for William, with his Diana connection and his pretty new English rose 'commoner' bride, they'll be able to grit their teeth through the reign of his far less popular father to wait for their true king to ascend triumphantly to the throne. Which with the longevity of the Windsor genes will probably take us to at least 2050. Only in that distant future will the next generation of royals be scrutinised more thoroughly.
In the meantime, those of us in the middle will continue to view the monarchy with largely benign detachment, taking a passing interest in the great occasions of state (apparently today wasn't 'a state wedding' ... yeah right, obviously the father of the bride paid for everything didn't he?) but lacking the will to rock the constitutional boat. The British people seem to feel most comfortable harking back to what we perceive as our glorious past, rather than looking forward to a more uncertain future in the world.
On that note, the Sage intends to make another coffee and turn the TV back on, probably to be confronted by Fern Britten interviewing a man who once sold a pint of milk to the new Duchess of Cambridge in a St Andrews Tesco Metro.
God Save The Queen!
Regards
The Sage
Thursday, 28 April 2011
The Sage's Albums of 2011 to date
Dear followers
During his Indian travels the Sage had scant opportunity to stay in touch with the latest album releases - bar the occasional Bollywood soundtrack - so having had the chance to catch up back in my South London abode, here's my thoughts on the best new CDs so far in 2011.
In no particular order...
The Vaccines - Well What Did You Expect From The Vaccines?
Despite a ridiculous amount of hype for a band only formed last June, The Vaccines' debut album is impressively assured. There's nothing particularly original here, with most of the tracks falling somewhere between the terrace singalongs of the Fratellis and the widescreen bombastic miserabilism of Glasvegas, but those in search of an uncomplicated, tuneful indie-rock album to sing along to this spring should check this out without delay. However, they really do need to come up with a better title for their next record.
PJ Harvey - Let England Shake
It's almost 20 years since Ms Harvey's first album (1992's Dry) and it's a breath of fresh air to see an artist producing her best ever work at a stage of her career when many contemporaries have long since ran out of ideas. A sometimes challenging but never pretentious reflection on the impact of war, many of Let England Shake's songs focus on the brutal conflicts of World War I and Gallipoli in particular. The raw, jagged beats and riffs are appropriately stark yet naggingly infectious, with Harvey's supple, expressive voice providing a melodic foil throughout. A significant work that shows pop music can be both intelligent and accessible at the same time.
The Low Anthem - Smart Flesh
Fleet Foxes' stellar 2008 debut has made folk-rock hipper now than at any time since the early 70s heyday of Crosby Stills, Nash and Young, and perhaps the best of the American bands to break through in their wake is Rhode Island's The Low Anthem. Fourth album Smart Flesh was recorded in an abandoned pasta factory, and the end result is a sparse, atmospheric sound that soars and echoes around the vast open spaces where it was recorded. Often slow and stately, the tracks here take time to grow on the listener but you're unlikely to hear a better record of this type this year - well until Fleet Foxes themselves return next week at least...
The Unthanks - Last
From American folk to British, and Northumbria's Unthank sisters continue their evolution from their north-east traditional song roots to something of altogether broader appeal. The centuries old murder ballads are still there, as are the haunting vocal harmonies, but lusher orchestration, more expansive arrangements and some innovative covers of rock artists (for example King Crimson and Tom Waits) elevate Last far beyond the work of your stereotypical folk troubadours. Often bleak, but very, very beautiful.
Anna Calvi - Anna Calvi
Like the Vaccines, this diminutive Anglo-Italian was hotly tipped going into 2011, and her debut album shows that most of the fuss was justified. Blessed with both a powerful voice and fabulous guitar playing ability, Ms Calvi effectively uses both qualities in a darkly atmospheric collection of songs that drip with passion. Often abandoning conventional song structures and incorporating elements of classical and famenco as well as rock, this is a dense, sometimes confrontational record that signals the arrival of a major new talent.
For my full review of Anna Calvi on BBC Music, please click here.
Here's some links to performances/recordings of tracks from all the albums I've mentioned above:
The Vaccines
PJ Harvey
The Low Anthem
The Unthanks
Anna Calvi
And finally - one for you all to avoid. I hate emo...
Twin Atlantic - Free
Regards
The Sage
During his Indian travels the Sage had scant opportunity to stay in touch with the latest album releases - bar the occasional Bollywood soundtrack - so having had the chance to catch up back in my South London abode, here's my thoughts on the best new CDs so far in 2011.
In no particular order...
The Vaccines - Well What Did You Expect From The Vaccines?
Despite a ridiculous amount of hype for a band only formed last June, The Vaccines' debut album is impressively assured. There's nothing particularly original here, with most of the tracks falling somewhere between the terrace singalongs of the Fratellis and the widescreen bombastic miserabilism of Glasvegas, but those in search of an uncomplicated, tuneful indie-rock album to sing along to this spring should check this out without delay. However, they really do need to come up with a better title for their next record.
PJ Harvey - Let England Shake
It's almost 20 years since Ms Harvey's first album (1992's Dry) and it's a breath of fresh air to see an artist producing her best ever work at a stage of her career when many contemporaries have long since ran out of ideas. A sometimes challenging but never pretentious reflection on the impact of war, many of Let England Shake's songs focus on the brutal conflicts of World War I and Gallipoli in particular. The raw, jagged beats and riffs are appropriately stark yet naggingly infectious, with Harvey's supple, expressive voice providing a melodic foil throughout. A significant work that shows pop music can be both intelligent and accessible at the same time.
The Low Anthem - Smart Flesh
Fleet Foxes' stellar 2008 debut has made folk-rock hipper now than at any time since the early 70s heyday of Crosby Stills, Nash and Young, and perhaps the best of the American bands to break through in their wake is Rhode Island's The Low Anthem. Fourth album Smart Flesh was recorded in an abandoned pasta factory, and the end result is a sparse, atmospheric sound that soars and echoes around the vast open spaces where it was recorded. Often slow and stately, the tracks here take time to grow on the listener but you're unlikely to hear a better record of this type this year - well until Fleet Foxes themselves return next week at least...
The Unthanks - Last
From American folk to British, and Northumbria's Unthank sisters continue their evolution from their north-east traditional song roots to something of altogether broader appeal. The centuries old murder ballads are still there, as are the haunting vocal harmonies, but lusher orchestration, more expansive arrangements and some innovative covers of rock artists (for example King Crimson and Tom Waits) elevate Last far beyond the work of your stereotypical folk troubadours. Often bleak, but very, very beautiful.
Anna Calvi - Anna Calvi
Like the Vaccines, this diminutive Anglo-Italian was hotly tipped going into 2011, and her debut album shows that most of the fuss was justified. Blessed with both a powerful voice and fabulous guitar playing ability, Ms Calvi effectively uses both qualities in a darkly atmospheric collection of songs that drip with passion. Often abandoning conventional song structures and incorporating elements of classical and famenco as well as rock, this is a dense, sometimes confrontational record that signals the arrival of a major new talent.
For my full review of Anna Calvi on BBC Music, please click here.
Here's some links to performances/recordings of tracks from all the albums I've mentioned above:
The Vaccines
PJ Harvey
The Low Anthem
The Unthanks
Anna Calvi
And finally - one for you all to avoid. I hate emo...
Twin Atlantic - Free
Regards
The Sage
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)