It’s a terrifying thought that every Britain’s Got Talent spin off around the world casts its own Ant & Dec clowns on the side of the stage making retarded facial expressions of ‘surprise’ and ‘amazement’. Not only does Simon Cowell rape the music industry’s dead corpse, he’s breading an international army of brain dead TV presenters. On the plus side, I appear to have mastered Hindi in 6 minutes and understood every Gujarat version of ‘I want this 110%’, ‘Dream come true’, ‘More than anything’ and ‘To get this far, it means the world’.

India’s Got Talent

A snippet of this review features on  the PaulMcCartney.com Up & Coming fan reviews section

The first time I experienced a Paul McCartney gig was at Camden’s Roundhouse as part of the Electric Proms. My good friend Mike came along and the unexplainable sense of excitement we shared over a beer beforehand converted into euphoria that took a sick day from work and a good week to calm down from. From the opening of ‘Magical Mystery Tour’ from my favourite album to the violinists during Eleanor Rigby and crowd sing a long of Let It Be, the jigsaw pieces of recollection clouded in a memory simply of delight, sat easily atop my personal chart of greatest ever gigs attended and most enjoyable nights out had.

In the run up to Mike and I’s second outing to experience McCartney, the excitement was incredibly high again. The little concern we had that a venue of London O2′s stature might be too superficial for an artist of such greatness evaporated the moment we entered the arena – perhaps party thanks to the wonderfully quaint touches of incense perfuming the air and food outlets stocking Linda McCartney vegetable burgers. The man came on, the static grids of attendees rose and it happened all over. My voice grew hoarse through huge sing-a-long moments, my eyes watered during Here Today and my party sat glancing at each other in near disbelief and amazement throughout the crowd muting Blackbird. McCartney newcomers Mark and Wesley had one incredible introduction to rock royalty.

When I logged off my computer having secured tickets to my third McCartney outing, I felt a hint of Deja vu; reflecting on the privilege it was to witness such performances, hear utter classics and dance along in the presence of my favourite of all artists. The weeks preceding the day in Hyde Park followed the usual pattern; how little should I listen to my CD collection during the countdown? Could anything top the previous two ecstatic occasions?

Before any clenched fists were raised into the air for Jet, any doubt I had that listening to CDs throughout the few weeks prior would leave the set not feeling fresh or that turning up for my third gig wouldn’t live up to previous dates vanished like all the clouds had from the perfect blue sky of that evening in June. Joined this time by friends Marilu, Hannah and company, we swayed, sang and smiled for three solid hours of incredible moments.

Whilst it’d be silly placing the slices of magic in order of enjoyment, one of the first that comes to mind is that of Hey Jude. In one moment I was laughing to myself out of sheer unknowing of how else I could express satisfaction. In another I had been raised to the shoulders of Mike and Rodrigo, upon which the audience seemed to disappear and make way for a personal one on one moment with the man on stage and me.

The next morning I thought back to the big night and felt the same huge smile that spanned my face the first two morning’s after appear again. Text messages and phone calls between the gang I’d attended with helped clear the mist of Macca Mania, empty the ‘best one ever’ envelope and seal a new case file in. Call it a day now and feel lucky for what I’ve had? Probably. Until I set my alarm early for the next morning of ticket sales madness. After all, I’ve yet to hear Maybe I’m Amazed live.

I’ve enjoyed Bowie’s music for years and owned the double disc DVD of his Best Of collection for about five. From radio plays during long family drives to my Nan’s house to the occasional music video on TV, he’s always been there on the outskirts of my music radar. I recall my sister getting scared of his role in Labyrinth, a documentary on Linford Christie’s running outfits to a theme tune of Fashion, getting home stoned and tripping out to The Man Who Fell to Earth and reading about Marilyn Manson’s contact lenses tribute during my brief goth phase.

But the artist really catapulted towards the core of my radar this month after a chat with a colleague about how cool the man is. That night I downloaded the CD equivalent of the DVD I’d owned for years and have been immersing myself in the two solid and varied discs every day since, whilst I get dressed for work in the week, stroll over Tower Bridge on my lunch breaks or run the treadmill in the gym.

There are moods for all occasion:

Space Oddity – 101 Hollywood blockbusters and US dramas about extraterrestrials and space later, a strength of this track is it’s ability to challenge the boundaries of imagination, even in the age where everything seems possible, at least when it’s engraved with an Apple logo. A great one to open up the box around your brain in a morning, munching a bowl of corn flakes and bolting a door shut for the day ahead is rarely as inspired.

Modern Love – A happy and bouncy tune that’s ideal for walking out of your office at the end of the day. It’s one of many examples that show how unlike say, Stevie Wonder’s I Just Called To Say I Love You or Paul McCartney’s Give My Regards To Broad Street, Bowie’s 80s output remained current to it’s time without over cheesing it.

China Girl – Another 80s effort that avoids the pitfalls of the decade’s dry drum machines and cold synthesisers thanks to Bowie’s intriguing lyrics and their softly, almost spoken execution, muting the familiar hums of traffic and curry house touts for this number can put a fun, rhythmic, anticipatory and swaggering screen over your walk out to a night of drinks and chatter.

Heroes – When your head’s split in two, you wake up brewing over an argument the night before or have just had a long lay in on a lazy Sunday morning, the goose bumps one listen and welling up eyes of the next that this song can conjure up tells you you’re listening to a pretty special thing. The simplicity of the ostinato, escalating passion and strain of the vocal and statement of the lyric are elements that bread track review acclaims such as ‘life affirming’ and ‘all time classic’.

I’ve always been a little too proud or obsessive to begin exploring an artist’s back catalogue with a greatest hits collection though the Best Of Bowie is a useful tool for an artist of such material and direction. It’s helped me to start digging deeper, from the surprisingly folk collection of his Space Oddity album to the very considered electronic efforts of Low such as Always Crashing In The Same Car

The Youtube crawl:

• Thursday’s Child music video
• Extras guest appearance
• The society for the prevention of cruelty to long haired men interview
• I’m a collector interview

My Best of his Best of: Last.fm playlist

• The final scene of Gangs Of New York where the NYC landscape evolves.
• The rat crawling across the screen as The Departed concludes.
• The lighthouse shot that ends Shutter Island, incase you don’t guess what happened next.

I am trained to bite the tongue of affection’s announcing calls. Sense tells me they’d scare or spoil our smiles beneath these warm songs. Why throw hurdles of language into the foray of simmering chuckles? Surely taming expression to sustain the familiarity of looping comforts is of greater consequence than evoking words that may but fright. Yet as time slides on and our grasps tighten and conversation peals beyond what was thought to be at its most unguarded extent, shelves of sonnets crumble fiercer each time, the rule of favouring silence over what may terminally disrupt this most enjoyable of meetings that so brightly provide content across each dinner table, dance floor, car, sofa and pavement shared, all remarkable yet snagged on the fence of a word I do not climb.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0810784/