Notting Hill: the people's carnival

Fans of Notting Hill the movie would be forgiven in thinking the avoid was devoid of black culture. The film, however, was an airbrushed version of the vibrant reality. Not so much Hugh Grant as Eddy Grant; not Julia Roberts, more Robert Nesta Marley, universally known as Bob.

At Notting Hill Carnival time, the ethnic diversity of the area is celebrated with music, costume, Caribbean food and joie de vivre (not to mention truckloads of Red Stripe lager). The floats started their parade at around noon, and the crowds promised had not reached bone-crushing, pickpocket-cruising levels at the time. The volume of the music was less ear-splitting than feared (maybe Kensington and Chelsea borough council whispered in the organisers' shell-like ear, after last year's sound systems would have given a Jumbo jet a run for its money). The food was reasonably priced (jerk chicken and a beef pattie for £6.50). And there were surprising pockets of calm, with jewellery stalls, face-painting opportunities, and vuvuzela sellers dotted around.

The police were everywhere without being obtrusive. I only saw one cannabis dealer and one guy offering laughing gas to an unsuspecting public, both plying their wares at a mobile disco where nubile young things were writhing to the ragga on the back of a specially customised lorry.

All in all, a joyous day, wrapped up with a warming-down walk through Kensington Gardens and a read  of the paper next to the Serpentine.


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Overnet stardom

The mechanisms of making a name for oneself are changing. Wither music went, comedy follows. Bo Burnham has gone from gigging in his bedroom to the Edinburgh Fringe, with a stratospheric fan base shift from 1 (his Mum) to 59 million.

What's next? Playwrights: front room to Royal Court? Actors showreels: no need for auditions? Television presenters/hosts: cut out the expensive Stage School fees?

But in this wired world of celebrity meteors, will fame burn brightly but fade quickly? It would be interesting to learn current hit stats for Susan Boyle YouTube videos and websites.


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A Chelsea morning

Chelsea Clinton got her wish to have a high-profile, low-profile wedding to her investment banker, Marc Mezvinsky. Commentators were saying that the nuptials were an American equivalent of a royal wedding, although the highest profile celebrity to attend was Ted Danson.

So, who's next in line? Of the Bush twins, Jenna is already married and rumours of a Barbara wedding proved false. And it'll be a long wait for the Obama daughters, Malia and Sasha, who are at least a decade away from naming the day.

The US media will have to hope they get a bit closer to the action next time ...


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The Katy Perry Brand

Is she or is she not married? Slips of the tongue on The Graham Norton Show suggests Katy Perry may well have already tied the knot with Russell Brand. No matter, they'll be hitched soon in any case.

But how do married pop stars fare? Will she be a Louise Redknapp, formerly of Eternal, who retired gracefully from the scene when she married Jamie? Or will she be a Madonna, carrying on regardless of who she's seeing?

The brand may have to change, though, as reality will change adolescent fantasy. Perhaps she'll corner the Easy Listening market or release albums direct to a supermarket or elevator near you? Or follow Tiffany and tour the malls.


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Billy Millionaire: the Olympic opener

London 2012 has just taken another decision. Danny Boyle and Stephen Daldry have been handed the reins of creation for the Olympics' opening ceremony.

Both directors have form. Danny Boyle's biggest success was the Oscar-winning Slumdog Millionaire; Stephen Daldry was the creative force behind Billy Elliot.

So what can we expect? Something new, or a hybrid of previous projects: Indian boy makes good in his quest to be a Bollywood dancer?

Whatever results will be very different and presumably less expensive than the opening to the Beijing 2008 Olympics.


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Brothers blooming?

Why do stars act in low-budget movies? Answers on a postcard, but here are a few suggestions:

• The stories are less formulaic, so the parts are more interesting?
• The opportunity to play someone different, to go in a new direction?
• The chance to participate in the movie's profit?
• The convenience of seeing your family, as locations would of necessity be cheap?
• The slim chance of being in the next independent classic, with higher probability of being considered by Uncle Oscar and/or the Sundance Kid?
• The opportunity of working with directorial and writing talent not yet sucked into the corporate Hollywood machine?

Perhaps all of the above? The Brothers Bloom ticks most of these bullet points.

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Pentecostal muscle: a hip-hop career launched?

Scorchio day: made for lazing around, sunbathing, swimming, seeing off local vicar to pastures new with hog-roast buffet and the help of the BBC's Songs of Praise, and introducing a new performer to national consciousness: Forgive, known in civilian life as Toby Butler.

Performing the topical track, 'Straight Fire', for a live broadcast from All Saints, Peckham, Forgive is soon to hippety-hop into a professional career as a musician in a niche market: UK Christian rap. In a world of rampant illicit downloads, tanking niche distributors and retailers (e.g. STL, now under new ownership; Wesley Owen), difficulty in standing out to mass audiences through the white noise of the internet, and shrinking offline media platforms for original music material, how does a new artist like Forgive make a mark on the culture?

• Set up a bespoke website: check;
• Launch a record label: check;
• Write loads of material: check, launch of debut album, Straight Fire, in August 2010;
• Develop a viral marketing strategy: check, stealth-bomb blogs with relevant copy, upload videos to YouTube, plug review copy on relevant platforms (e,g. forthcoming Cross Rhythms feature), decent SEO plan to get 'Forgive' as top rank, say, for 'UK Christian hip-hop' Google search terms;
• Get radio airplay: check, future niche domination of the likes of UCB Radio and Premier Christian Radio; tomorrow promotion via the likes of the Tom Robinson Introducing 6 Music show of bands without corporate contracts;
• Grow a loyal fan base: check, local gigs supplemented by national tours to local churches and festivals;
• Become a rapper-in-residence: react to relevant events with slam poetry like a hip-hop version of Carol Ann Duffy;
• Reclaim rap for positive messages: check, role model status brings private and public responsibilities (Toby is married to Hannah);
• Name-check merchandise à la Taio Cruz (viz: Rokstarr sunglasses): check today's chapter and verse; tomorrow the hip-hop Bible to retrieve the hype from KRS-One's megalomania? (Well, if it can be translated into Klingon, anything's possible);
• Investigate new markets: check, develop relationships with relevant international websites (e.g. urban churches, rap blogs and websites), make sure viral marketing messages are not exclusively UK-centric. 

While the field is narrow, talent one hopes will out. Hopefully Forgive will not be forgetten in a hurry: he might even get name-checked in Rapzilla's next video roll-call ...


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Wedlock and Mandible

The new London 2012 Olympic mascots are a bit of a tongue-twister and have the look and feel of a children's focus group. Say hello to Wenlock and Mandeville, for the Olympics and Paralympics respectively: cuddly, one-eyed steel-girder off-cuts from the Stadium.

The reaction, from adults, will be harsh initially, who will hark back with nostalgia to unreconstructed furry icons like World Cup Willie.

The children, however, should love them, especially with the four-minute Michael Morpurgo scripted animation. The mascots are inked in to earn £70 million from merchandising, and websites like Facebook and Twitter will be bombarded with interactive opportunities to engage with the dynamic duo.

Give it a few weeks and everyone will have come round to the concept. Two years to go, though, so Wenlock and Mandeville will have their work cut out to stay relevant to the news agenda.


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Supermarket scrooges

What a surprise, not. The supermarkets have been found with their hands in their own tills. In the week before Christmas they all hiked up their prices for festive fare.

Time for some Government monopoly body to rap a few knuckles. What is it with capitalism, huh?

Live Ode for Haiti

The Poet Laureate, Carol Ann Duffy, has arranged a Live Aid-style poetry event to take place at Westminster's Central Hall on Saturday 30 January 2009. The poets taking part include Andrew Motion, Brian Patten, Roger McGough, Maura Dooley and Gillian Clarke.

Here's a feeble addition to the cause:

Port-au-Prince had a terrible quake

That caused politicians to make

Promises galore

Of aid to the poor --

And artists sped to the wake

Not exactly Edward Lear, but the event itself will have inspired oodles of heart-felt scribbling. I feel a book of the gig will follow pretty soon chasing the charity dollar ...

Hoochenanny: happy New Year

Whether you braved the freezing temperatures to get crushed in a crowd waiting for those fleeting firework moments, nursed a celebration pint in a pub (without having to pay through the nose for the privilege for entering the premises), negotiated a house party without crashing out or leaving territory-marking evidence, or watched the organised mayhem that is Jools Holland's annual Hootenanny music show, it was inevitable that news items in the morning would report a huge spike in alcohol-related admissions to Accident and Emergency facilities.

The spectacle of ambulances screeching towards hospitals is almost as much of a feature of the New Year as the London Eye, Edinburgh Castle, the Eiffel Tower, the Times Square ball drop, the Kremlin, or Sydney Harbour Bridge.

I'm not sure if drinking culture abroad is so endemic outside the UK: our parochial news suggests that British tourists are feared in certain popular holiday destinations, but I don't know if foreign tabloids cover drinking escapades of their own citizens to the same extent.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot?

Robert Burns wrote Auld Lang Syne, right? Think again. The Scottish bard copied it down from an old bloke he met on his travels.

At least the Ploughman Poet gave credit where credit was due. Unlike the forgetting of inconvenient truths when record labels came to release cover versions of songs like Blue Suede Shoes, I Shot the Sheriff and Tutti Frutti.

The flowing of royalties eventually helped to quench residual, often racial, anger.

And the Zelig prize for most ubiquitous actor goes to ...

Which actor cropped up most often in original material on the telly during Christmas 2009? It's probably a toss up between:

• David Tennant (Doctor Who: The End of Time, Hamlet, The Christmas Bear, QI, Never Mind the Buzzcocks, The Catherine Tate Show: Nan's Christmas Carol, The Graham Norton Show sole guest, the BBC One Christmas 2009 ident); and
  


• Rob Brydon (Would I Lie to You? clippings review of 2009, Gavin and Stacey, The Gruffalo, QI, The One Show, Breakfast Show guest, The Graham Norton Show guest, Big Fat Quiz of the Year, Steve Coogan: The Inside Story).
  

I reckon David Tennant takes it by a long quiff, as Rob Brydon has been a guest on other people's shows more often than not. The BBC seem to have been treating Mr Tennant's departure from Doctor Who like Andrew Flintoff's 2009 farewell tour of English Test grounds during this year's Ashes series.

Mr Tennant has been everywhere, and now apparently he is trying to make it big in the USA, witness a recent pilot show for a legal series Stateside called Rex is Not Your Lawyer, and a general invitation to 'come and hire him' to LA producers.

This may well work, as his legacy playing the good Doctor will go before him. Perhaps he'll be the next Hugh Laurie, and maybe even Woody Allen will give him a starring role.

Doctor Ooh

... or maybe even Doctor Ood. The first part of the timelord's 2009 Christmas special The End of Time shown on BBC One tonight was a postmodern mesh of self-reflection over the Russell T. Davies era: the whole dog-and-pony show.

There will also be millions of children who woke up to Santa bearing gifts this morning who will have nightmares tonight inspired by The Master. Lots of hand-holding, landing lights left switched on and favourite bedtime stories being read tonight, and that's just the parents.

Wrapping up Christmas

Most of Britain will have exchanged presents today wrapped with as much gusto as the Christo team. Our family made a small dent in our personal carbon footprint by not using paper to conceal gifts, just putting them in reusable plastic bags.

This got me thinking just how much paper got used at Christmas 2009 in the UK. One supplier in Kent has had an 18 per cent increase in orders for wrapping paper, making a total of 35 million metres (enough to cover 9/10ths of planet Earth) and their Christmas cracker orders are up 21 per cent to 26.6 million (to say nothing of the paper hats and awful puns). The Royal Mail estimate that 700 million Christmas cards will be sent via the delivery service this year, and the paper usage includes envelope and card for each item. If an average card and envelope uses, say, 0.5 metres then that's 350 million metres. Maths has never been my strong point, but that's an awful lot of paper.

So, Christmas 2009 in the UK is like Christo wrapping the world several times over, and that's just from one country. Maybe the dominant green campaign needs to stop people wrapping presents (at least with printed papers) as an awful lot of trees must be being sacrificed for the annual splurge, rather than simply using recycled paper to prepare gifts for family and friends.

In Desktop Jubilo: an eCard suggestion

Here's an idea. Sending my Christmas cards, I realised I didn't have certain friends' real-world addresses. Armed with their email addresses, I explored the world of eCards ... briefly.

At one end of the market -- the end where the cards are half-decent animations -- you have to pay an annual subscription, which is fine if you actually want to send eCards all year, but I suspect is like the proverbial New Year's resolution gym membership: one visit and you never go again. At the other end is the truly free stuff, so long as you sign your life away in registration detail to the spammers and hackers.

How about a middle way? Get an eCard for free, but download an accompanying mp3 single to send to the recipient -- maybe a way of getting unsigned bands publicity, a single-track podcast with an added eCard attached (perhaps even disguised as a promo video).

Aussie Carol, C'mon, C'mon

Until now, the closest thing Australia has to a Christmas carol is Miss Minogue senior's sexy rendition of Santa, Baby. There is no equivalent local songbook Down Under to the Northern hemisphere, save for the odd local competition and a few humourous offerings. So there's no:

• Once in Ricky Ponting's City;
• While Ockers Watched their Crocs by Night;
• The Holly and the Kylie;
• In the Peak Midsummer;
• Billabong Merrily on High;
• O Little Town of Adelaide; and definitely no
• Good Shane Wenceslas Looked Out, On the Beach of Bondi.

Step forward Susanne Scott, my friend and professional singer, who has stepped into the breach with her festive offering: The Aussie Carol, Come Sing Hosanna (now available as a single). At least now the Australian Carol Songbook has reached pamphlet dimensions.