So, after eleven series and a few hundred contestants, the reality-TV show Big Brother has finally come to an end. The show, which has somewhat limped to the finishing post over recent months (or years as some may argue) went out with a bang last night with Brian Dowling being crowned ‘ultimate housemate’. Channel 4’s ridiculously overblown five hour marathon documenting the past decade of the show dragged on and at times was just cringe worthy. However, after all the customary moaning as the finale concluded, it started to dawn on me that Big Brother had far more of an impact on our society than many would like to admit.
Starting in 2000 the show began very much as a game show, the name deriving from George Orwell’s ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’ in which ‘Big Brother’ monitors the inhabitants living under his dictatorship through their TVs. The first series began as a relatively low-key affair with average ratings for a late night channel 4 show. However, that changed forever when millions tuned in to watch the show-down between Craig Phillips and ‘Nasty’ Nick Bateman over the latter’s attempts to influence other housemates votes. Nick was removed from the house to public outrage and had to live in hiding for weeks while Craig went onto win the series. I’d be here all day if I was going to document every year of the show but the subsequent series included fights, romance, meltdowns, race rows, celebrity spin-off shows, not to mention wine bottles being used for unorthodox means.
The show was the first of its kind and defined the next decade of prime-time television. Producers began realising that throwing a load of people onto a set and filming them would rake in the viewers. Big Brother led to a huge wave of reality TV shows and the phenomenon just grew and grew not just in the UK but across the world.
The show has always polarised opinion, especially as time has gone on. While some saw the programme as a stroke of genius; a fascinating social experiment proving that something as obvious as watching people living in a house can make for the most captivating of television viewing, others branded it the lowest form of entertainment; a freak show of fame-hungry, talentless cretin’s.
I’m somewhere in the middle. I think the concept is simply genius and at the time entirely revolutionary. I also think it has made for some of the most memorable moments of television over the past decade. Whether people love or loathe the show, everyone can recall ‘Nasty’ Nick’s antics, the Jade/Shilpa race row and Kinga getting acquainted with a bottle of Pinot. However, I think the show has had a bigger impact on our society than many realise and I don’t think it’s a positive one.
Pretty soon after the show began in 2000, it became apparent that certain evictee’s from the show were going to enter the ‘real’ world under some sort of media spotlight and relative fame. This spawned an influx of individuals applying to the show simply as a short-cut to a life of lavishness and fame. Nothing wrong with that, many would argue and to a point they would be right, it has given some opportunities that wouldn’t have arisen otherwise and who am I to say they shouldn’t have been given that chance. However, I think it has led to this ridiculous modern day celebrity culture we live in where you don’t have to have actually achieved or indeed done anything for people to obsess over your life and I find that a bizarre and rather sad state of affairs.
Just think back to life before Big Brother. For the front pages of the tabloids to be dominated with the death of somebody for months on the end you would think they would have done something or been someone pretty special wouldn’t you? A freedom fighter? A musican? An actor? A footballer even? But no, the carry on over the talentless, bigoted, irritating, brainless nonentity that was Jade Goody just saddened me to the core. I’m not saying her death wasn’t tragic and I understand she used her profile to raise awareness of her illness which was admirable. However, this woman gained probably 100 times the press coverage someone like, for example Aung San Suu Kyi, the leader of the democracy movement in Burma who has been under house arrest for the past two decades, has ever got. Even our fucking Prime Minister commented about her death. It’s not Jade’s fault, she made the most of what she had and this should be respected but I think it’s very sad that people like her are revered by so many and it is undoubtedly down to this new wave of celebrity culture that Big Brother instigated.
I guess many would argue that it actually isn’t much of a problem; Big Brother contestants never got much coverage in ‘proper’ publications such as The Guardian, The Independent and The Times anyway and anyone with a brain is bemused at least about the obsession over these nobodies. And if I’m totally honest, I’ll always have an enjoyable flick through the pages of Heat round my girlfriends when no one is around. I just believe people should be admired for doing or being something special not just for.. being.
Despite this, a little part of me was sad to watch Davina sign off for one last time last night. As much as I’ve tried to fight it, the show has made for some great television and has been a true phenomenon over the past decade. Whether you see it as a good or a bad thing, or indeed both, – in its own little way, it has been revolutionary.
Saturday 11 September 2010
Monday 6 September 2010
Bigmouth Strikes Again; and it's just getting boring.
So, Morrissey has sparked outrage for the 2364th time in his career this week by branding the Chinese a 'subspecies' due to the treatment of animals in the country. This is the latest in a string of 'non-PC' comments regarding race made by the iconic front man over the years. In 2007, he told the NME, "England is a memory now, the gates are flooded and anybody can have access to England and join in." This follows on from various controversial comments made by the man recently voted the 3rd most iconic living Brit. This dates back to 1992 when he declared that he didn’t think “black and white people will ever really get on.”
Vegetarianism has always been at the forefront of the reclusive singer’s work and public persona, famously entitling the Smiths second album ‘Meat is Murder’ with the title track including the lyrics, ‘That calf you carve with a smile/Is Murder/The turkey you festively slice/Is Murder’ (which is the most self-righteous, sanctimonious load of shit I’ve ever heard). Despite Morrissey’s militant vegetarianism and his notoriously inflammatory tongue when discussing issues such as race, the two issues have never crossed over until now.
I think I better give a quick background of my views regarding Morrissey and his music before I begin commenting on this. The Smiths are one of my favourite bands and the man is a lyrical genius, I’ve got posters of him on my wall and t-shirts with his face on; the full shebang. ‘The Queen Is Dead’ is one of the greatest British albums of all time and songs like ‘There Is A Light That Never Goes Out’ and ‘Cemetery Gates’ will be heard coming out of my walls until the day I die.
I also think Smiths-era Morrissey is one of a kind; impossible to replicate or imitate without looking foolish. His dark yet romantic and witty lyrics spoke to a generation of young, disenchanted outsiders and his interviews and performances were subversive and captivating. A true individual and icon, someone who polarised opinion on a mass scale (branded as ‘depressing’ by the lovers of comedy cock-rock like Bon Jovi and Motley Crue, which can only be a good thing in my eyes), for me he was the embodiment of an ‘indie icon’.
However, where Morrissey was once exciting and revolutionary, flirting with danger, he is now monotonous and irritating. His constant need to get people’s backs up with downright tasteless and dated views regarding race is beginning to wear pretty thin. I accept his right to an opinion and I do believe issues such as immigration into the UK need to be addressed at some point but calling a nation of people a ‘subspecies’ is sickening in my eyes.
I do not think Morrissey is a racist and to place him under the veil of such an extreme term is simply lazy and narrow-minded. However, one does wonder how far somebody can push people before they begin perceiving ‘non-PC’ as outright racism. After all, if Nick Griffin referred to a race of people as ‘subspecies ‘there would be no doubt in my mind what term would be branded about. I’m not for a minute comparing Morrissey to the vile, fascist scumbag that is Mr. Griffin but he needs to start choosing his words slightly more carefully before people really begin jumping to conclusions.
The issue of militant vegetarianism is just irritating and doesn’t sit comfortably with me at all. I am totally opposed to any form of unnecessary cruelty to animals and I have to utmost respect for vegetarians as long as they avoid preaching and taking some sort of moral high ground. Morrissey has probably gained more column inches through these two past times than his music in recent years. He walked offstage at Coachella after he suspected there was meat being cooked on the premises. You’re at a festival of over 100,000 people, you fucking tool. He has also advocated the actions of the Animal Rights Militia, effectively a terrorist organisation that posts letter bombs and who dug up the grave of the mother-in-law of an owner of a farm involved with animal testing. For me, these people are scum of the earth, as socially backward and sick as any fascist organisation. I am against testing of animals for cosmetic products but if it wasn’t for animal testing, the medication my Dad has to take every day would not exist and therefore would still be having daily epileptic fits, just puts things in perspective a little bit..
Finally, if Morrissey wants to begin having a go at the Chinese, maybe he should begin with the awful human rights record. A good example would be subordinate status of women in Chinese society that has led to shocking rates of infanticide amongst newborn females. But Morrissey see’s the plight of the little poor little cats, mice and rats as far more important, of course.
Morrissey will always have a place in my heart as one of most enigmatic and iconic front men the British music scene has ever produced. However, if he carries on down this later life path of bigotry I shall be removing my posters from my bedroom wall.
Vegetarianism has always been at the forefront of the reclusive singer’s work and public persona, famously entitling the Smiths second album ‘Meat is Murder’ with the title track including the lyrics, ‘That calf you carve with a smile/Is Murder/The turkey you festively slice/Is Murder’ (which is the most self-righteous, sanctimonious load of shit I’ve ever heard). Despite Morrissey’s militant vegetarianism and his notoriously inflammatory tongue when discussing issues such as race, the two issues have never crossed over until now.
I think I better give a quick background of my views regarding Morrissey and his music before I begin commenting on this. The Smiths are one of my favourite bands and the man is a lyrical genius, I’ve got posters of him on my wall and t-shirts with his face on; the full shebang. ‘The Queen Is Dead’ is one of the greatest British albums of all time and songs like ‘There Is A Light That Never Goes Out’ and ‘Cemetery Gates’ will be heard coming out of my walls until the day I die.
I also think Smiths-era Morrissey is one of a kind; impossible to replicate or imitate without looking foolish. His dark yet romantic and witty lyrics spoke to a generation of young, disenchanted outsiders and his interviews and performances were subversive and captivating. A true individual and icon, someone who polarised opinion on a mass scale (branded as ‘depressing’ by the lovers of comedy cock-rock like Bon Jovi and Motley Crue, which can only be a good thing in my eyes), for me he was the embodiment of an ‘indie icon’.
However, where Morrissey was once exciting and revolutionary, flirting with danger, he is now monotonous and irritating. His constant need to get people’s backs up with downright tasteless and dated views regarding race is beginning to wear pretty thin. I accept his right to an opinion and I do believe issues such as immigration into the UK need to be addressed at some point but calling a nation of people a ‘subspecies’ is sickening in my eyes.
I do not think Morrissey is a racist and to place him under the veil of such an extreme term is simply lazy and narrow-minded. However, one does wonder how far somebody can push people before they begin perceiving ‘non-PC’ as outright racism. After all, if Nick Griffin referred to a race of people as ‘subspecies ‘there would be no doubt in my mind what term would be branded about. I’m not for a minute comparing Morrissey to the vile, fascist scumbag that is Mr. Griffin but he needs to start choosing his words slightly more carefully before people really begin jumping to conclusions.
The issue of militant vegetarianism is just irritating and doesn’t sit comfortably with me at all. I am totally opposed to any form of unnecessary cruelty to animals and I have to utmost respect for vegetarians as long as they avoid preaching and taking some sort of moral high ground. Morrissey has probably gained more column inches through these two past times than his music in recent years. He walked offstage at Coachella after he suspected there was meat being cooked on the premises. You’re at a festival of over 100,000 people, you fucking tool. He has also advocated the actions of the Animal Rights Militia, effectively a terrorist organisation that posts letter bombs and who dug up the grave of the mother-in-law of an owner of a farm involved with animal testing. For me, these people are scum of the earth, as socially backward and sick as any fascist organisation. I am against testing of animals for cosmetic products but if it wasn’t for animal testing, the medication my Dad has to take every day would not exist and therefore would still be having daily epileptic fits, just puts things in perspective a little bit..
Finally, if Morrissey wants to begin having a go at the Chinese, maybe he should begin with the awful human rights record. A good example would be subordinate status of women in Chinese society that has led to shocking rates of infanticide amongst newborn females. But Morrissey see’s the plight of the little poor little cats, mice and rats as far more important, of course.
Morrissey will always have a place in my heart as one of most enigmatic and iconic front men the British music scene has ever produced. However, if he carries on down this later life path of bigotry I shall be removing my posters from my bedroom wall.
Wednesday 1 September 2010
A Time For Heroes? Not Quite..
For the past six years, the Libertines have been my favourite band. A little part of me changed forever when I first heard 'Don't Look Back Into The Sun' just after their demise in 2004. The chaotic, melodic mess coming out of the speakers suddenly made 50 Cent's 'In Da Club' (the sort of genius that was probably doing the rounds on my CD player around the age of 15) sound rather less relevant.
I spent the next few years buying vast arrays of trilby hat's and wearing shoes so pointy I'm surprised I didn't take someone's eye out in an attempt to resemble the then skeletal, crack-addled genius that is Mr Peter Doherty. After realising around the age of 17 it probably wasn't a good look, possibly due to a new found sense of self-consciousness after a delightful young man in a Magaluf street (don't ask) shouted, "Ay mate, you gay or summat?" to which his friend kindly pointed out, "Nah, it's all Kooks n that shit, innit".
For me, they took everything that is great about the past thirty years of British rock 'n' roll and made it their own. The raucous, 100 mph energy of the Pistols and the Clash mixed perfectly with the quintessenially British lyrical romanticism of the Kinks, the Smiths and Blur. The relationship between Doherty and Barat was captivating and led to the greatest rock 'n' roll story of a generation involving guerilla gigs, burglaries, drugs, prison, break ups, great shows and no shows. It's not hard to see how they won the hearts of a generation disillusioned with the post-Britpop and Nu-Metal wankery taking over the airwaves at the time.
You can therefore imagine my excitement when on a quiet night in earlier this year I found out the rumours were true, after a six year break-up the Libertines would be reforming for Reading and Leeds. Many people I spoke to seemed dubious to whether it was a good thing. Would they turn up? Would the magic still be there? Would it be an on-stage, hour long car crash? Nevertheless, I went ahead and bought a day ticket (my decision made all the easier as Arcade Fire were playing straight after, who I may add put on possibly the greatest show I have ever witnessed).
I entered the soulless site that is Reading Festival on the Saturday morning, dodging twats selling the energy drink Relentless screaming relentlessly in people's faces with David Guetta's gruesome dance drivel booming out of their van and practically falling over with shock at some of the quotes from my fellow festival goers, "Libertines are shit, I'm just here for Limp Bizkit!". Indeed.
After watching an underwhelming Modest Mouse set on the main stage, the captivating Chapel Club in the Festival Republic tent (greatness surely looms) and the ever reliable hype man Dizzee Rascal, the stage was set.
Opening with the ramshackle, fan favourite 'Horrorshow', they played an hour long greatest hits including 'Can't Stand Me Now', 'Up The Bracket', 'Tell The King' and 'Don't Look Back Into The Sun'. On the surface everything was perfect. They turned up on time, they were tight, they looked great, Carl and Pete's trademarks such as the sharing of the mic were there and they left the stage to rapturous applause from their devoted following.
Despite this, I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed as I walked away. I had expected it would go one of two ways; a Stone-Roses-in-96-eque catastrophic car crash or a legendary, triumphant return of the most important British band of recent years. I didn't account for the possibility it would be just, well.. quite good. It didn't seem right hearing these songs that have played such a huge part in my youth played on such a grand, impersonal scale. Their sound didn't suit the size of the venue and I just felt there was something quite stiff and flat about the performace. It just seemed slightly unLibertine to me.
Maybe it is me with the problem. Maybe I have spent so much time eulogizing the band over the years I was expecting too much? Am I being unreasonable to expect to be able to see a band with fans of millions play in some toilet in Whitechapel like 'back in the day'? Probably. And despite being slightly underwhelmed by it all, it was still great to finally hear those songs sung live as a full band.
The general consensus in the media has been that they 'pulled it off' and it would be unfair to protest otherwise but that old saying 'you should never meet your heroes' has been ringing true ever since, if in a different context. Hopefully off the back of this will be a nationwide tour of more intimate, career defining shows that will piss on everything I have written here. I do hope so.
I spent the next few years buying vast arrays of trilby hat's and wearing shoes so pointy I'm surprised I didn't take someone's eye out in an attempt to resemble the then skeletal, crack-addled genius that is Mr Peter Doherty. After realising around the age of 17 it probably wasn't a good look, possibly due to a new found sense of self-consciousness after a delightful young man in a Magaluf street (don't ask) shouted, "Ay mate, you gay or summat?" to which his friend kindly pointed out, "Nah, it's all Kooks n that shit, innit".
For me, they took everything that is great about the past thirty years of British rock 'n' roll and made it their own. The raucous, 100 mph energy of the Pistols and the Clash mixed perfectly with the quintessenially British lyrical romanticism of the Kinks, the Smiths and Blur. The relationship between Doherty and Barat was captivating and led to the greatest rock 'n' roll story of a generation involving guerilla gigs, burglaries, drugs, prison, break ups, great shows and no shows. It's not hard to see how they won the hearts of a generation disillusioned with the post-Britpop and Nu-Metal wankery taking over the airwaves at the time.
You can therefore imagine my excitement when on a quiet night in earlier this year I found out the rumours were true, after a six year break-up the Libertines would be reforming for Reading and Leeds. Many people I spoke to seemed dubious to whether it was a good thing. Would they turn up? Would the magic still be there? Would it be an on-stage, hour long car crash? Nevertheless, I went ahead and bought a day ticket (my decision made all the easier as Arcade Fire were playing straight after, who I may add put on possibly the greatest show I have ever witnessed).
I entered the soulless site that is Reading Festival on the Saturday morning, dodging twats selling the energy drink Relentless screaming relentlessly in people's faces with David Guetta's gruesome dance drivel booming out of their van and practically falling over with shock at some of the quotes from my fellow festival goers, "Libertines are shit, I'm just here for Limp Bizkit!". Indeed.
After watching an underwhelming Modest Mouse set on the main stage, the captivating Chapel Club in the Festival Republic tent (greatness surely looms) and the ever reliable hype man Dizzee Rascal, the stage was set.
Opening with the ramshackle, fan favourite 'Horrorshow', they played an hour long greatest hits including 'Can't Stand Me Now', 'Up The Bracket', 'Tell The King' and 'Don't Look Back Into The Sun'. On the surface everything was perfect. They turned up on time, they were tight, they looked great, Carl and Pete's trademarks such as the sharing of the mic were there and they left the stage to rapturous applause from their devoted following.
Despite this, I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed as I walked away. I had expected it would go one of two ways; a Stone-Roses-in-96-eque catastrophic car crash or a legendary, triumphant return of the most important British band of recent years. I didn't account for the possibility it would be just, well.. quite good. It didn't seem right hearing these songs that have played such a huge part in my youth played on such a grand, impersonal scale. Their sound didn't suit the size of the venue and I just felt there was something quite stiff and flat about the performace. It just seemed slightly unLibertine to me.
Maybe it is me with the problem. Maybe I have spent so much time eulogizing the band over the years I was expecting too much? Am I being unreasonable to expect to be able to see a band with fans of millions play in some toilet in Whitechapel like 'back in the day'? Probably. And despite being slightly underwhelmed by it all, it was still great to finally hear those songs sung live as a full band.
The general consensus in the media has been that they 'pulled it off' and it would be unfair to protest otherwise but that old saying 'you should never meet your heroes' has been ringing true ever since, if in a different context. Hopefully off the back of this will be a nationwide tour of more intimate, career defining shows that will piss on everything I have written here. I do hope so.
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