Grown Up Gossip & Internet Villainy
Diversify or Die?
Folded
Hello. Are you a Westlife fan, troubled by the news that your Princes are going away to enjoy their moneyed-lives with their families and friends? Are you worried that there will suddenly be a void of mawkish, soaring ballads to sooth you while you self-harm in a bath of ice?
It’s bad news we’re afraid.
Westlife’s members have confirmed that the musical equivalent of an itchy jumper are unlikely to ‘do a Take That’ and get back together in a few years. Is it because Take That were always more relevant to pop music or is it because the Boyzone tribute market isn’t as lucrative as it once was? Who knows. Certainly not us.
As we’ve already made abundantly clear on this very day, no-one wants to see myriad bands reforming to remind us of why we thought they were a bit awful in the first place.We thought we’d just get that out of the way to start with.
Secondly, the answer to the question ‘Why do bands reform?’ is never ‘For the music, maaaaaaannnnn.’. It is, invariably, “for the money, maaaaaaannnnn.”
Whether we like it or not, the music industry is a big wheel that keeps on turning, spewing out derivative crap with every clicking cog. That’s not the problem, it really isn’t. There is still good music out there and even some of the launched faeces eventually breaks down into a diamond.
Like coffee shops and vintage clothing boutiques, UK festivals are cropping up all over the place. The modern day music lover is literally spoilt for choice in terms of who they want to see perform in a muddy field. While festivals such as Glastonbury, T in the Park and V offer a mixed bag of artists, more genre themed events have emerged that include rock at Download, indie at Reading & Leeds and electronic at Global Gathering.
Now in its tenth year, Global Gathering has always pushed the boundaries of innovation to make sure it tops the previous year with an ever expanding range of electronic genres are being for catered for.
Well known and underground artists from the world of dubstep, drum & bass and electro have been recruited to make sure that no-one attending is standing still for more than five seconds. If you missed out on tickets, fear not, we've got our grubby paws on a pair and we really want you to have them.
The great Reading Festival ticket rush is right around the corner, which is causing people of no?discernible?music taste to wet themselves with glee while the rest of us look on in astonishment that this festival manages to sell out year after year.
The Reading and Leeds festivals are one of those bizarre anomalies that perplex music fans the world over. How can a company put on a festival with weaker line-ups, higher ticket prices and more problems than we're legally allowed to mention and yet continue to draw a huge demand for tickets?
The answer is obvious. Hipsters.
The Glastonbury festival is outrageously overrated. Acre upon acre of tree-hugging hummus weavers hump the ground in the hope that they’re near a layline while pink-faced louts in Stone Roses t-shirts consume crates of Stella ’til they fill their tent with urine.
On top of these obviously good vibes, there’s the lakes of silage that surround the portable shit-pits and burgers so expensive that you could buy a small holding full of delicious cows instead. And there’s the obligatory cry of ‘bolllooooocks‘ that soundtracks your evening as the night draws in.
Of course, the music that Glastonbury has is the reason why people go and, year on year, revellers are treated to one of the most conservative billings on the circuit. That’s why utter dross like Coldplay and U2 are consistently linked with headlining slots. However, unbelievably, there might be an act who actually warrant a trip to the fields of litter – BEYONCE!
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD! CAN’T BREATHE! CAN’T BREATHE! AAAARGH! SCREEEEAM! AAAAARGH! AAAAAARGH! OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD! AAAAARGH!
That’s right you howling British Bieberphiles! Your favourite little amniotic popstar is coming to tour the UK!
After selling out shows all over Americaland, he’s now turning his attention to Europe and in the UK, such is the excitement over his impending arrival, the streets will be covered in a thick sludge thanks to the arousal of millions of young women*.
Boo-hoo. There’s going to be some hippie tears today as news has got out about the cancellation of Glastonbury festival 2012.
And why has it been cancelled? Have the organisers realised that it might be a bit rich to promote environmentally aware messages while being responsible for some insane pollution from the sheer amount of cars that travel to the event, not to mention the stars landing by helicopter AND the huge amount of electricity used on the million stages, falafel stands, bead shops and burger vans blasting out ropey dubstep 24 hours a day?
Nope. It’s because people who go to Glastonbury shit way too much.
It seems apt that jewel encrusted charity muggers, U2 look likely to be headlining the Glastonbury festival this year. Both of these corporations really care about the Earth and poverty, maaaan… despite creating a city’s worth of pollution and showing ghastly displays of wealth every time they roll into town.
Of course, U2 are being coy about it all, as are the Glastonbury organisers. With the latter, we go through this song and dance every year, where they tease everyone with rumours and shrugs about who might play at the festival, before unveiling a staggeringly conservative line-up.
U2 are telling fans to keep an eye out, with manager Paul McGuinness, saying: “We’re certainly excited about our plans for next year. Watch this space!” The band are also advising fans to buy tickets to Glastonbury 2011, despite the fact they have already sold out.
Glastonbury or, if you’re a simpering, lisping idiot – ‘Glasto’ – is a festival of suffering. It truly is a place where all the world’s denied misery congregates to wave badly made flags at worthy bands playing woefully crafted songs.
Yep, the annual hugfest for pie-eyed do-gooders rolls around each year, leaving everyone imagining a unique spirit and putting on their best concerned faces when walking by the charity stalls while eating battery cow burgers and pretending to give two shits about Summer Solstice.
That’s if you get there in the first place because, as those who want to go but can’t, they’re shaking their fists angrily at the sky thanks to Glastonbury’s ’90s ticketing system which has left literally hundreds of thousands of chumps without a ticket as the 2011 show sold out just over four hours.
