A room of one's own: an unattainable dream?

Where there's an online product, you'll soon find a hacker or a pirate.

The latest examples that confirm the human urge to scream 'Mine' very loudly are Andy Coulson's tenure as editor of the News of the World (phone hacking has been alleged by, most recently, the New York Times) and hacker success in distributing popular ebooks for free.

Even the unveiling of the Stig's identity on Top Gear smacks of the school playground bully, tearing off the wings of a butterfly.

At stake, personal and professional privacy, and the right to make money from electronic products.

This is a gold rush in reverse where, in a landscape where information wants to be free, no one is allowed to make money. This spells disaster to conventional business models for creative companies. The globalisation effects of YouTube, home recording and back-bedroom piracy will propel the media into a dangerous Wild West outlaw world where copyright is seen as red tape and creatives won't be able to earn a crust. The new billionaires will be the sharp-elbowed owners of the speakeasies at the edge of the law and beyond.

The likes of Mick Jagger, J K Rowling, Steven Spielberg, Clint Eastwood and Dan Brown represent the last of a dying breed: stars who get rich through their imaginations.


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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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The coalition sofa

Nick Clegg, the deputy prime minister, is about to have a difficult evening. Half-Dutch, his wife Miriam is Spanish, so the World Cup final between the Netherlands and Spain will split the family allegiances.

On the other hand, at least the family will be partially happy whoever wins.

And at least the vuvuzelas can be put in the loft ... until they get banned from Premier League grounds.


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Must the show go on?

Pop stars are finding new misfortunes with which to grace the tabloids.

There have been crashes (e.g. Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochrane, Marc Bolan, Sonny Bono), drug meltdowns (e.g. Syd Barrett, Janis Joplin, Michael Jackson), alcoholic binges (e.g. Jim Morrison, Hank Williams Jr, Amy Winehouse), physical injury (e.g. Bono, Keith Richards) and even murders (e.g. John Lennon, Sid Vicious) but Western icons have managed to avoid exotic diseases (except perhaps cancer, e,g, Kylie Minogue, Bob Marley, George Harrison).

Until now. Cheryl Cole has malaria and may be starting a trend. Amir Khan, the boxer, has collapsed with the same mystery disease.

No one famous has recently croaked from tuberculosis, syphilis. polio, cholera or a flu epidemic but with global travel increasing and the losing battle against bug evolution means it may just be a matter of 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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Frank Sidebottom: he did it his way

Chris Sievey had an unusual life. Quirkily successful, he died a pauper. He is the only performer I can think of who was much less well-known than his papier-mâché puppet alter ego: Frank Sidebottom.

Frank was way ahead of his time, celebrating the naffness and desperation of celebrity and over-promoting the banal: he, like me, was born and bred in Timperley, Cheshire, and name-dropped the place at every opportunity.

Mr Sievey's originality spawned the careers of Caroline Aherne (Mrs Merton made her debut on Radio Timperley and Frank's Fantastic Shed Show), Chris Evans (erstwhile Sidebottom roadie) and Jon Ronson, and influenced the likes of Graham Fellows and Mark Radcliffe.

News of his death kicked off a viral campaign to pay for the funeral. The tsunami of affection has created a campaign for a posthumous single release (perhaps the mock football anthem 'Three Shirts on my Line') and a possible movie.

If the film ever got made it would have the potential to be a quintessentially mad English indie sensation: 'Born in Timperley', indeed. Fantastic.


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Heroes on a shirt

There's nothing like an official song to rally the troops: players and fans, alike. Yet for this World Cup, England have nothing like an official song, for the first time since 1966.

Yes, there are musical efforts worthy of Eurovision from the likes of:

• Lightning Seeds-lite, 'Sing your hearts out' by Electric Skies;
• The English Parliament online chart-topper, 'This my dear is England' by a fat tommy in shades representing England fans;
• Pop star African tie-in, 'Waka waka' by Shakira;
• Jumping on the bandwagon, 'For the love of the game' by the Rezza Brothers;
• Even FIFA itself, with K'naan's official anthem.

There are even songs geared to geeing up sportmen in other competitions:

• Martyn Joseph's 'On a Celtic morning' to spur on the 2010 Ryder Cup campaign in Wales;
• Phil Tufnell and the Wooden Urns 'unforgettable' Ian Dury-meets-'Vindaloo' screech backing the 2009 Ashes campaign;
• Rugby Union boasts many perennial songs: 'Cwm Rhondda' and 'Sosban fach' for the Welsh; 'Jerusalem' and 'Swing low, sweet chariot' for the English; 'Molly Malone' for the Irish; and 'Flower of Scotland' for the Scots;
• And theme tunes are instantly recognisable: snooker; darts; Formula 1; cricket; tennis; boxing; etc.

So, it'll be back to the Germans stealing former English anthems at the World Cup, while we get stuffed in the quarter-finals (again).


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Radiohead: In Rainbows and the lack of gold

Millionaire, Thom Yorke of Radiohead has a bleak message for musicians wanting to make their fortune: the record-label based music industry will be dead within months.

The business model of In Rainbows may be open to every bussing muso, but the market is saturated and bands need ways to stand out from the crowd: principally, it seems at the moment, by being famous already (witness Radiohead, Prince, the Rolling Stones, and Simply Red).

Perhaps the hip-hop solution can be applied to the industry at large. The most famous rappers are becoming hubs around which new talent can coalesce (an early example being Eminem's involvement of D12 and Obie Trice). The hubs will be the nouveau riche. 

Like viral blog recommendations and links, the goodwill and praise of a famous artist (for a percentage cut) may be sufficient to drive download sales. And online musico-dramaturgs will emerge in greater numbers, carrying the John Peel legacy on to the web (say, his sons: Tom and William Ravenscroft; and Tom Robinson). The sharing of music is much more than playing records; the title DJ does not encompass the revised job description of these new gatekeepers to the music.

The recording industry is dead; long live the recording industry.


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Lembit Öpik: definition of a mid-life crisis

So what does a recently deposed MP do with their unexpected spare time after an election? Write their memoirs? Get stuck back into local politics? Return to their previous career?

No, Lembit Öpik, the former LibDem MP for Montgomeryshire is tonight trying his hand out as a stand-up comedian. Obviously.

This is either a stroke of genius or a recipe for mid-life shaped disaster.

On the plus side, Mr Öpik has plenty of material to draw on: engagement to a Cheeky girl (check); earlier engagement to a weathergirl (check); obsession with Earth-bound asteroids (check). And, to be honest, to keep relationships going with younger women, he must have more of a sense of humour than he displayed on a recent episode of Have I Got News for You (although appearing of the show within 24 hours of his ousting hinted of an ability to absorb humiliation and tout his CV on primetime television).

On the minus side, it might be a case of history repeating itself as farce. To get rejected from a safe-seat constituency might be unfortunate; to be booted off a comedy stage of your choosing within three weeks of the first pasting may look like carelessness.

My guess is that the reviewers will not be kind ... unless Mr Öpik turns out to show hitherto hidden brilliance at the one-liners as well as the harmonica. Politicians' appearances on panel shows tend to reflect their sense of hubris and ego rather than their innate sense of comic timing.


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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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Kylie - the musical

Ever since Mamma mia! stormed the West End (and then Hollywood) showcasing Abba's sizable output within a silly yet heartwarming script, this particular route to El Dorado has been well mined: witness We will rock you [Queen]; Jersey boys [Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons]; All the fun of the fair [David Essex], to name but a few shows treading the boards at the moment.

The latest pop icon off the blocks is Kylie Minogue, but which of her hits will be the title of the probable forthcoming show?

• Step back in time (a invitation to be nostalgic); 
• On a night like this (on a stage like that);
• Come into my world (which punter could resist);
• Can't get you out of my head (on the basis of it being a worldwide smash)

Who knows? But the title probably won't be Shocked (too generic); Where is the feeling (too negative); Chocolate (too distracting); Slow (too soporific); or Kids (too much information).

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I wanna be elected

'I'm your top prime of meat, I'm your choice,' screamed Alice Cooper.

Is David Cameron 'a yankee doodle dandy in a gold Rolls-Royce'?

Do the 'kids need a saviour, a fake Gordon Brown'?

Are 'we all gonna rock to the rules Nick Clegg makes'?

We don't know yet, but we might know by the beginning of next week.

The LibDems and the Tories are playing footsie this evening talking about how the things they have in common might outweigh the things that keep them apart.


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Heather from Hove

Unlikely celebrity pursuits include phoning radio competitions as a punter to win prizes.

Nobody told Heather Mills, who phoned Heart FM to win freebie tickets to see Whitney Houston.

A PR spokesman rapidly intervened to say the tickets were going to a good cause.


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Whitney speared

Do pop icons have a shelf life? The short answer is 'yes' if they don't re-invent themselves.

After her lacklustre performance at the O2, Whitney Houston has some work to do: she can either choose the Andy Williams route of performing in her own theatre; she can go the way of Shirley Bassey and collaborate with younger acolytes; she can hone her own repertoire until it comes back into fashion, like Tony Bennett; or she can try to compete with time with multiple image changes in the style of Madonna,

My guess is that she may not have the inclination or the energy to carry on as a world icon on the same level. But maybe she doesn't have the temperament to sit around at home counting her money.

Perhaps she should go back to her gospel roots, like her cousin Dionne Warwick? Or set up her own record label and spend ages laying down new material, like her godmother Aretha Franklin.

There'll always be a Lady Gaga coming along to be the next big thing, so Whitney Houston may as well accept her limitations, identify her strengths and play to them.


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Late flowering of talent

The defeat of reigning champion John Higgins by Steve Davis at the world snooker is one of the most 'interesting' wins of his career.

After winning six world titles before 1989, Steve Davis has done practically nothing in the sport since, while expanding his horizons into chess, poker and television commentary on snooker.

Some people, like volcanoes, can have their talent lay dormant for years until some unexplained moment when their skill and experience erupt into a new event.

As with Mr Davis, Brian Close played for England at cricket in 1949, the youngest to do so, and was still facing the bowling in 1976 against the then might of the West Indies.

Diana Athill wrote a novel and a collection of short stories in the 1960s, while working as an editor at André Deutsch, but her true flowering as an author of note only came with a autobiography called Stet written well into her 80s. She is still writing, even as she moves into a care home.

Mary Wesley famously churned out unpublished novels up until her 70th year when finally her public career was launched with a bestseller. Thereafter she wrote a novel a year to huge readerships for the next two decades.

Igor Stravinsky met Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky as a youngster, composed The Firebird at 28 in 1910, and carried on creating until completing his Requiem Canticles in 1966, at the age of 85.

Pablo Picasso kept painting through his various periods from the beginning of his career as a young cubist until the end of his long life in 1973.

What keep the critics occupied is comparing talented people against their own skill at various points in their lives. The greatest geniuses may be those people who expertise is equally celebrated at all points of the lives.


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Get Carter, Jason Carter

On to Lumen this evening, for the ACG leg of guitarist Jason Carter's British tour. Awesome. Jason has taken his art further than ever with his harp guitar.

Well-travelled, often to areas described by President George W Bush as an 'axis of evil', Jason described how repressive regimes are often criticised symbolically through music (e.g. Sibelius composed Finlandia in 1899 as a burst of national pride ever though Finland was occupied at the time by Russia).

And this is why the Taliban in Afghanistan were so keen to destroy any cultural activity: they knew where potential opposition might germinate its feelings.


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Michael Jackson: the Sony generation

Michael Jackson's people have signed the biggest recording contract in history with Sony: some $200m (£164m) for seven years' worth of recordings, franchising, tie-ins and back catalogue. This is 2pac territory with knobs on.

This is something of a gamble for Sony on two counts.

Will Michael Jackson continue to have icon status by 2017? Will his legacy be more Elvis than Princess Di?

And will young fans ever more proficient at using the internet be prepared to fork out hard-earned cash for products that are bound to be pirated as soon as they get released?

Predictions? Pop stars tend to have more staying power after death than other celebrities because of the potential to release unheard material. Actors have to 'be there' on set appear in new films, theatre being a de facto no-no (except for Oliver Reed in Gladiator, Heath Ledger in The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus and Marlon Brando in Superman Returns); writers can be ghosted after death, but turn into franchises (witness Robert Ludlum, Virginia Andrews); fine artists' work is finite, but obscure and famous stuff excites auction houses and markets when it resurfaces to realise some wealthy person's investment; but dead musicians often have the potential to release original material for many years, albeit with diminishing returns on quality.

The more intense the perfectionism trait of a pop star, the higher the probability of there being a hoard of releasable stuff deemed too flawed to share publicly after the performer's death: this is a likely Michael Jackson scenario. Sony plan to release ten albums in the next seven years, some of which are bound to feature original material.

As for downloading songs illegally, yes there will billions of dollars leaking out of the system for any new releases. The jury is out, but evidence may suggested that persistent download freeloaders may also spend more money on products they really want. In the round, the Michael Jackson estate and Sony are unlikely to lose out as loyal fans will want to own full collections of material.

The new factor in this case is the degree to which people feel comfortable downloading pirate material of a recently dead icon. Will it feel like grave-robbing, a little tacky, to fans used to sampling music for free? My guess is probably not, as the 'music wants to be free' meme has held sway now since the heyday of Napster.


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Beyond the book

When is an e-book not an e-book? Possibly when its enhanced with video, audio, music and social media networking possibilities.

In the red corner, publishers say added extra to electronic texts are publishing rights; in the blue corner, agents claim enhanced e-books are a new medium that may best be sold to film companies or record labels.

Who said media convergence would run smoothly?

Maybe Canongate Books have got it right: they are apparently negotiating enhanced e-book rights on a title by title basis.

Illustrated-book contracts may also shine light on the subject, rather than heat it up: the royalty split between illustrator and author often depends on the importance of the respective art in any given project.

So picture-book contracts are weighted towards illustrators, whereas illustrated fiction titles are titled towards authors, with partnerships like Roald Dahl/Quentin Blake split more evenly.

The Death of Bunny Munro: A Novel (Hardcover)

Centre-stage fold

There's news in the press that the Royal Opera House wants to stage a musical based on the life and times of Anna Nicole Smith. Possible titles might be:

• Play it again, Hugh;
• Bunny in the money;
• Sex, Drugs and Viagra;
• Show me the dough.

All of which will fuel speculation about the next 'starlet' off the cab rank for such treatment and expansion of the brand. Agents acting for the likes of Paris Hilton, Kerry Katona and Katie Price will be watching the space with interest.

But Gypsy Rose Lee got there years ago, although a 21st-century remake would be unlikely to be so demure.

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