Bubble Life: The Over-Protective World of the Pampered Musician

A few months back the European (even though 8 out of 11 winners were American) MTV awards took place in our great city of Liverpool. At the disposal of the stars in attendance were a wide ranging list of luxury items including water chilled to the specifically requested temperature, blankets for their rat-looking pooches and of course a back stage areas and dressing rooms just about big enough to fit some of their egos in. whilst reading about these diva-like demands I instantly thought of the scene from Wayne’s World 2 when the Mad Brummie Roadie recites his story of having to find the different coloured M&M’s for Ozzy Osborne. A true spinal tap moment if there ever was one. Since I have been listening to music I have always seen musicians as this social outcast outlaw type of figure. Be it Keith Richards writing songs about Heroin, Guns ‘N’ Roses writing about Violence or Iggy Pop writing about Heroin AND Violence. The life style which is associated with these characters has always had the tag of (here’s the cliché) mad, bad and dangerous to know attached to them, but sadly this does not apply to today’s pampered ‘stars’. During my long and pretty much un-successful time in music, even though I and my fellow bands mates never reached the heady heights of the Echo Arena, alls we were offered in terms of accommodation & rider facilities was a dingy dressing room full of stubbed out ciggies, shameless pornographic graffiti about the female singer from Chione, snapped guitar strings, used johnnies, four lukewarm cans of Skol and a bog (if we were lucky). Afterwards if we were given anything close to a half decent round of applause or £20 from the usually scurrilous venue promoter (before he had managed to leave through the side entrance, of course) was greeted with absolute amazement (Apollo, Mart, Ben & Stuart Arnold Ferguson Pritchard = I think you can vouch for that). I’d like to see the face on Mariah Carey if she were lead upstairs in the Zanzibar by Tony Butler and told: “eeeeeer, put ye gear der, luv” During his time, a hero of mine: Bon Scott, immediately after one of his performances with AC/DC used to do one thing and that was go to the bar (and stay there). Now, when I say the bar, I mean the public bar with the rest of the great unwashed who had spent their hard earned cash to watch him perform that night. Scott was a true man of the people, a working class hero that fans could relate to as he was quite simply, one of them. He never employed body guards, had a small dog (WTF!!!), employed image consultants or PA’s and you most certainly never seen him on a episode of the cringe-worthy MTV Cribs showing the people of the world what he’s got stored in his bleeding fridge!!! The occasional outlaws do exist in today’s music in the mould of Pete Doherty & Amy ‘Linden’ Winehouse, but they are few are far between and seriously demonised in the conservative press. The likes of Donny Tourette, the lads from The View & the occasional guy you see hanging out of Kate Moss’ arse could be in the category of ‘phoney outlaws’ who claim to cut the mustard … but, sadly, they don’t even come close to licking the jar. Without mentioning the hilarious incidents involving Noel Gallagher in Canada and Amy ‘Linden’ Winehouse at Glastonbury this year, I feel the ‘them & us’ relationship between performer & crowd has also steadily got bigger in recent years. Partitioning, crowd control, ticket inspecting and over suspicious beefed-up security have made music venues seem like places of imprisonment instead of entertainment. Some performers only have to look at the weather or receive the slightest bit of stick from a member of the crowd these days and it’s a case of “I’m not going out there, they’re insulting my artistic integrity, the buffoons”. Compare these actions to many years ago during the birth of punk, when the likes of Joe Strummer & Sid Vicious were pelted with bottles during their performances when they used to jump up in the air and head them back and then continue to play. It took a lot more than a broken nail or tepid water to get them to stop playing and throw a hissy fit! Of course that would never happen these days with the introduction of plastic pint glasses (which, by the way, quell any applause the crowd wish to give if you’ve noticed?) I remember meeting Tim De Laughter from The Polyphonic Spree once at one of their concerts and it has to be said he was a really decent chap, but there’s always the chance that ‘hero worship’ can come back and bite you on the balls. Whilst watching the local news a few weeks back they sent an intrepid reporter out in the freezing cold to interview some people who had been queuing up outside the afore mention Echo Arena who had been there for hours in a vein attempt to catch a mere sight of Pink walking into a nearby hotel. Maybe these fans are shallow, maybe they have something missing from their lives or maybe they are completely mentally instable!! I personally think the latter applies in this instance. But I also think if you compare Pink to the pop stars of old and it were 1976 and you were an AC/DC fan waiting outside to get the autograph of Bon Scott, you wouldn’t have long to wait long as he’d probably take you on an all-day bender and STAY there with you until you fell over until you could drink no more!! So, Ms Pink, in the highly unlikely event that you are actually reading this superbly written Blog (ahem), what would YOU do if I were to ‘start a fight’ with you? Would you live up to your falsely embarrassing lyrics and put your dukes up in a Queensberry rules style so we could 'get it on'? Or would you just leg it to your dressing room in your 5 star luxury hotel and set your bodyguards onto me? I suspect the latter myself One thing is for sure though: no matter what taste you have in music and no matter who is hanging from your bedroom wall (on posters), people, of all walks of life, especially those who have their limo doors opened and have their arses wiped for them should NOT be worshipped! This is just adding to their egos and increasing the size of their already over-inflated bubbles that they continually use to keep their fans at arms length and swelling the ‘them & us’ myth. Autograph hunters, doting fans and other genuine celebrity stalkers be warned = your heroes do have tendencies to be arseholes who live in bubbles … made out of glitter, diamonds and other expensive gems, of course. Mol