| Some of the previous columns |
| "Keeping a straight spine with Cyndi" - 1th of August "My freedom goes up in smoke again" - 29th of July George in Bosnia - 15th of April |
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| Sunday, 1st of August Keeping a straight spine with Cyndi I wasn't planning to show up at MTV's 20th birthday bash in New York but when Cyndi Lauper rang me to ask me to be her date, I could hardly refuse. Both Ms Lauper and myself were there when MTV was a struggling entity and we did our bit to promote it by exclaiming: "I want my MTV," loudly and proudly. Of course, these days we are only viewed by the MTV empire in the past tense but in the world of pop, it's better to show your face and keep your spine straight. Arriving at the bash was rather like going to an old school reunion. The cameras flashed and inane questions such as "How does it feel to be back?" were catcalled to veterans such as Billy Idol, Joan Jett, Huey Lewis and my date and I. We dutifully did the rounds of paparazzi - Cyndi played good cop, I was cranky cop, telling them: "MTV is a musical version of the stock exchange, it backs winners." I couldn't help myself because all day long I had to endure MTV's visual disc jockeys telling me how "ground breaking" the station is. Sure, back in it's day, it was a colourful postcard to parts of the world where some folk had never seen a boy in lipstick or a gravity-defying hairdo. But watching it now is like being tortured. When MTV works for you it is a genius concept but, rather like Radio 1, it is enamoured with it's own power. How MTV can claim to be a music station is beyond me, when most of it's airtime is taken up by game shows, dating programmes and now even wrestling! How many times do you need to see an *Nsync video to work out which one you fancy? Bitterness aside, I enjoyed the event, despite myself. Hanging out with Cyndi was a blast and I got to meet Busta Rhymes, who is possibly the most charming man in rap. I spotted Tommy Lee, ex-lover of Pamela Anderson, and blurted out: "I've seen your manhood and it's pretty special." Well, I was slightly cruder. He blushed and ran away muttering "thanks". Tommy and Pam are living proof that you can survive almost anything with enough tattoos, cleavage and lip gloss! If anyone put out a home video of me making whoopee, I'd hibernate. Billy Idol, who is looking much better these days, took to the stage for a rousing version a Rebel Yell, which was pure cartoon but had the crowd punching the air in a wave of nostalgia. The highlight of the evening was a rap session featuring the unfriendly Run DMC (walk that way) and Salt 'n' Pepa, whom I adore. The party continued until 3am but I had to escape to DJ at a friend's birthday party downtown. There's only so much nostalgia a girl cab stomach in one sitting. While I was spinning, for free, an annoying chap approached the DJ booth and asked: "Do you have any Eighties stuff?" "Sorry," I replied, "Just dance music." "Well, why are you here?" he cheekily asked. "Not to please you," I replied. Some fools can't tell the difference between a human being and a jukebox but one must soldier on. The pressure was removed briefly by New York producer and DJ Scott Hardkiss, who only popped in for a drink but was ordered to spin a few tunes. He dropped a stunning tune called "Lord knows we feel it" and I ran to the booth to find out who it was by. On discovering it was something he'd "just knocked up", I was forced to beg for a copy and it worked. Having a radio show must count for something. I now have a treasure in my record box and can't wait to play it on Kiss. |
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| Will America take Taboo? April 27, 2003 |