April 2003

6th April 2003

A salon to groom the fame junkies

I WOULD have paid money to hear the conversation between my personal assistant and the celebrity guest booker for reality TV show The Salon. "Would George like a haircut?" asked the guest booker. "He's currently bald for his role in the musical Taboo," was the reply.

"How about a massage or a sauna?"

Having worked with me for an age, my fend-them-off PA, Eileen, knows what I will and will not do. Stripping for a TV show is not up for debate. "Well, the show's quite good for people out of the limelight," ventured The Salon's seducer. Eileen almost choked. If I'm out of the limelight, why am I so tired?

Like most reality TV, I'm afraid The Salon is revoltingly compulsive. While watching one episode, I noticed a very sharp-tongued boy called John, who sounded a little too much like one of my good friends, Vassos, a transsexual lady of the night. I called my chum up and it transpired that she/he did know this John chap and that John was using his often inspired one-liners.

I met John and liked him and it was decided that I would nip into The Salon for a manicure and to hand out some tickets for Taboo. I expected it to be a buzzing joint but it was just like being in a trendy hairdressing salon - awkward, too bright, and but for the hidden cameras recording every word, rather clinical.Before I got through the door I was asked not to do any product placement but it was OK to hand over 11 tickets for Taboo, which cost me far more than I was offered to be an official guest. I had my nails done and asked if my friend and make-up artist, Christine, could join me because, when I wasn't fencing quips with John, there was little to keep me stimulated. They said no, thinking that Christine was desperate to be on television, or that I was making a bid to get her on, but I simply wanted to show them how bohemian chic was properly achieved.

ONE CANNOT judge anyone completely in 45 minutes but one can get a vibe. The girl who did my nails was sweet but she did mumble something like: "When you were an A-list celebrity in the Eighties..."

Clearly she did not realise that such lists are a sad Nineties cultural zit and she had mistaken me for someone who actually cared!

A lanky simpering creature sat with us for a while and seemed shy but at the show, after a few drinks, the mouse turned rat. Actually it was obvious that most of the guests, those not too vacuous to have a personality, were puffed up on their brink of fame. It was no surprise I upset them by heckling from offstage: "In two weeks you'll be nothing." I wished later that I had added: "Then you'll know about reality." One must forgive them for feeling special in these times of just-add-water fame. So is the joke on them or on us, the fools that tune in?

John has his own salon and, like the tousle-haired manager who makes a fortune consulting, can go back to reality with a smile. The other sad wretches will fade to obscurity or pop up as presenters on kids' TV or, worse, making records, but they just can't bank on it.

The A, B, or C-list culture that they buy into has no mercy and they will just become ozone-destroying human mullets or another hairdo that becomes embarrassing with the same speed with which it was considered trendy. The one plus of having just a little hair left is that it's one less petty fashion detail to worry about. But then I worked out years ago that the only way to stay ahead of the game is to ignore the advice of self-elected barometers of cool. Far better to ring Christine Hamilton and ask: "Spots or stripes, this year?"

13th April 2003

Sometimes all we can do is just care

THE WAR in Iraq is almost over, and it is hard not to feel immense sadness for those innocent Iraqis killed while simply getting on with their daily lives. Once the war kicked off, the politicians did their best to blackmail us emotionally by suggesting that anti-war was an insult to the British and American soldiers there. So does that mean an Iraqi life is less important than a coalition one? I don't have to think about it. All life is precious.

Politicians tell us that they have to look at the bigger picture - better to kill a few thousand than have millions die - but there are conflicts all over the globe that we don't bother with.

It is therefore fair to suggest that - while Saddam Hussein undoubtedly ruled Iraq with terror and torture - the bottom line was quite possibly oil. Are we in the west really so compassionate? It's a tough question. As governor of Texas, George Bush was famous for never granting the appeal of a death-row prisoner. Putting someone to death by lethal injection is clearly not the same as torturing them but there is emotional and psychological torture in keeping a prisoner on death row for 10 or sometimes 20 years. This might buy time for lawyers to appeal, but in most cases it makes little difference.

You could argue that Western forms of capital punishment are no longer barbaric but it's still playing God. On the other side, on playing god, I would say to those against abortion that in come cases this is the compassionate option. If a mother knows she is bringing a child into a potential life of misery and pain, I can't imagine that she wouldn't think hard and suffer even if she does abort the child.

This topic is endless and the war ultimately teaches us that we have no more power over our politicians whether we vote them in or they muscle their way in. There are certain types of human cruelty we cannot control. We can't save every starving child in Africa and we can't give money to every homeless person who holds out his hand to us.

I do feel that allowing yourself to care is better than making harsh judgements, although there are certain types of cruelty that we can stop. School bullying, race hate, abuse in the workplace, and the fur trade are just a few, but all these things still prevail.

FUR was not considered politically correct for a long time but in recent years it has crept back onto the catwalk. Naomi Campbell and other models did posters for anti-fur campaigns. Yet despite posing for the legendary "I'd rather go naked than wear fur" posters, Naomi then back-tracked and brazenly sashayed down the catwalk in fur.

When protesters jump on to catwalks to protest they are tackled with security guards and dragged away wrapped in fur blankets - the ultimate indignity and a very arrogant response from the fashion industry. There is no need to wear the fur of endangered creatures when realistic fake furs can be just as convincing. Thank heavens for young designers such as Stella McCartney, who manages to design without cruelty and seems to have her principles in place - proof that you can deliver cool clothes without delivering cruel blows to defenceless animals.

I think that the large pay-packets may seduce some models into modelling fur but when you are as successful and as wealthy as Naomi and so many others are, there is not much excuse. I'll leave you with a joke. Why did the supermodel stare at the carton of orange juice? Because it said "concentrate"!

20th April 2003

Don't Drown Out Voices of Peace

I am not an avid TV watcher. I mostly see stuff that's broadcast in the early hours after a night's clubbing or after a gig when my mind is working overtime. Over the past few weeks, I have mostly watched news coverage on the conflict in Iraq or programmes such as hard talk with Tim Sebastian, by whom I have had the pleasure of being grilled.

I like Sebastian's style but of late has been rather one-sided over the war and gung ho. His interviews with George Michael and Daniel Day-Lewis were more like personal attacks and one wonders if Tim feels that entertainers should not meddle in politics. If so, why book them as guests? Is it simply to ridicule and prove that pop stars and actors are out of their depth? Recently, when interviewing French and German Ministers, Tim virtually accuses them of being cowards - forgetting perhaps that Germany has less of a palate for war than most countries for obvious reasons. It seems that any country or individual who dares to question the motives of the world's most nihilistic superpower America, is ripe for a media spanking.

One could argue that the countries which opted out of the conflict did so because they had more to gain, financially by abstaining ­ or could it be that not every government sees war as a sensible option?

It was reported that the French had been selling weapons to Iraq during the build up to the conflict but there is no country on this planet that hasn't armed one dictator or another, and the weapons of mass destruction said to be stockpiled by Saddam have yet to surface.

We have discovered (hardly a surprise) that Saddam owned a number of well-equipped torture chambers, but then the people of Iraq seem to embrace physical violence, because a male looter aged 16 was ripped apart by a gang of civilians and guns are being waved around like driving licences.

We look at the Middle East and are horrified by public floggings, hands being chopped off and women being stoned for adultery and we say it is uncivilised. Our own methods of dealing with crime are considered sophisticated by comparison. So sending teenagers to places such as Feltham Detention Centre, where they are mentally and physically abused by fellow inmates and where there have been five suicides in five years, is sophisticated?

Next we should look at the numerous cases of child abuse in children's homes or religious institutions and add to that horror stories about old folk being abused by those paid to care for them. It's hard to defend our own morality when we all know that these crimes continue to be commonplace within our own, so-called civilised and democratic culture.

George Bush would probably shift uneasily in his seat if he ever came face-to-face with the families of the many prisoners he put to death as Governor of Texas but I imagine he would defend these deaths in the same way he defends the unfortunate civilian deaths in Iraq.

The current TV ads that encourage us to vote if we want to "affect change" are timely and poignant because so many of us are well aware that voting results in a loss of power. Once we trusted in God, the science came along and shook those foundations. Then we looked to politics for an answer and we have been disillusioned once again. In a sense, the most valuable thing we can do is follow our hearts and even if it seems that there are more people baying for blood then peaceful solutions that should make us more dedicated. History proves that the majority may have the loudest voice but they are prone to be proved wrong time and time again. Ah men!

27th April 2003

Hoping America will take to Taboo

I MUST admit to feeling sad that Taboo the musical, the drama, the smell of the old greasepaint, is no more as of yesterday. We received notice a couple of months back that we would be shutting on April 26 and the whole cast has been gearing up for the end of what has been an adventure for us all.

Sharing a cramped dressing room and working on the same project for the past five months has been like having a job and I wish I could say it has given me some discipline but I'm no closer to the pipe and slippers.

I never, ever imagined that I would enjoy performing in the theatre and I feel privileged to have worked and learned so much from the trained actors who have been the glue of Taboo. Only one major row in a year is not bad going and that only occurred because the cast thought, wrongly, that I was aware of what was being planned by the money men.

It's fair to say that Taboo survived longer than I believed it would and aside from my various TV and press interviews to promote it, very little was done by the producers to keep the public aware. Imagine how shocked I was to learn that AKA, our production company, had taken on the job of promoting Our House, the Madness musical that beat us to Best New Musical at the Olivier Awards? Its argument that it was "business" did not cushion the feeling of being kicked in the teeth.

Taboo has attracted a varied audience and not the type I assumed would show an interest. The deal to transport Taboo to Broadway seems finally to be in place and we had the pleasure of being visited by our New York producer, Rosie O'Donnell, who rather sweetly jetted over to London for the final show. In some respects it will be nice to have a rest from the gruelling schedule. So, next stop the Big Apple and back to the jitters and worry about how the critics and American audiences will take to the show.

We open at the Plymouth Theatre on November 13, which is the birthday of my old mucker Philip Salon, who has been a good omen so far. Paul Baker, the actor who brought him to public attention, won the Olivier for Best Actor and 13 is my lucky number and also the number of Philip's penthouse hovel which I lived in for several months while Culture Club became a household name. Until then it's time to get back to making music and spinning records, and, who knows - a trip to Ibiza in June. I can feel the withdrawals already.

LISTENING to the radio the other day I was horrified by the rushed announcement of the tragic passing of the great jazz legend Nina Simone. News of her death was, for some unknown reason, shoved next to the sad news that S Club were retiring. Nina's great achievement was typically her least favourite song, My Baby Just Cares For Me, but anyone with a passion for music will know that her legacy is too vast to fit into a brief sentence.

She was openly racist towards her white fans but having suffered hideous racism during the early part of her career, she became blatantly bitter and did not realise she was loved and appreciated by so many of the people whom she ranted against.

Simone was part Malcolm X and part Joan Crawford and one never knew what to expect. If you ain't wise to her great works, start with the album Baltimore - you'll be rooting for more of her spiky and melancholic music.

The music industry treated her with unforgivable disrespect but her legacy will live on in the hearts and ears of those who know genius when it blazes defiantly and full of pride.

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