News Of The World

London Fields # 94
First published Inpress (Issue # 1184), Melbourne on 27 July 2011, and in Drum Media (Issue # 1070), Sydney on 26 July 2011
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

A Sunday morning stroll through the News Of The World’s website to see what celebrity muck had been freshly raked used to seem like a bit of fun. Many of the stories were seemingly so ludicrous that they were amusing, and it could be done with a clear conscience didn’t involve actually buying the rag. But the fairly ambivalent attitude of the British public to the phone hacking saga changed dramatically about three weeks ago when it was revealed that News Of The World had not only hacked into the voicemail of murdered schoolgirl Milly Dowler, but had deleted messages as well, leading relatives believe that the then only missing family member was perhaps still alive. Targeting those who had at some point actively sought the limelight didn’t seem so bad, but this was another thing entirely. As Billy Bragg sings in his new song Never Buy The Sun: “the means justify the ends because we only hunt celebrities and it's all a bit of fun”.. But this reprehensible act shocked a nation and (contrary to what I read in a piece in The Australian) quickly became a hot topic of conversation across all classes and beliefs.

As this saga unfolded I kept recalling the central motif of HBO’s Game Of Thrones: "When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground." For decades newspapers have played at king making - Murdoch papers supported Labour Party in the elections of 1997, 2001 and 2005, and then at the last election reverted to their formal loyalties to stand firmly behind David Cameron and the Conservative Party. So perhaps it’s not unexpected that Ed Miliband, the current leader of the British Labour Party, has seemed to finally gain some teeth when discussing this issue. While it seems this present government is determined to substantially weaken the BBC, some papers have tried to claim that the whole Hackgate sage was a beat-up of a private leftist cabal between The Guardian and the BBC, with a Daily Mail headline asking “why won't he [Miliband] tackle the REAL threat to our way of life - the BBC” in response.

While attention was focussed on this, there wasn’t much room for other stories. So the announcement that the NHS, which we’re continually reassured isn’t going to be privatised, will have £1billion of services opened up to private competition passed almost unmarked, as did Education Secretary Michael Gove’s report to the Commons that the rebuilding project for 58 schools which he axed would remain scrapped (despite the opinions of the High Court). Meanwhile on television late night current affairs show Newsnight saw a surge in rating as day-by-day new revelations came to light, and hosted great live interviews such as one where Steve Coogan eviscerated a NotW journo. Over on Question Time, another celebrity who had found himself the subject of tabloid stories fought back, with Hugh Grant proving himself mightily impressive.

The shining knight in this whole sorry affair has been the pioneering and persistent investigative work by The Guardian that has brought this into the light. Yet its continued future is a cause of concern. Although The Guardian has the second largest online readership of any English language paper in the world, there is no paywall (Comment Is Free) but last month it revealed an annual loss of £33 million and stated that the Guardian Media Group could run out of cash within five years “if the business operations did not change”.

This weekend showed nothing much had really changed. While that the closure of the News Of The World may have put some people out of work and adversely affected newsagents Sunday takings, the act has done relatively little to address serious issues in certain sections of the Fourth Estate. One tabloid led with what was apparently Amy Winehouse’s final drug deal, while others were happy to quote the story and show photos of the late singer’s blanket covered corpse being removed from her home. While in (Murdoch owned) The Times last Friday cartoonist Peter Brookes depicted three staving Africans, one of whom opined “I’ve had a bellyful of phone-hacking”. But perhaps the most telling comment on the whole affair was automatically generated by a machine. When I tried to access the NotW website from my work PC, I found it had been blocked by my employer. The reason given was that it was “categorized as: Tasteless & Offensive”.

© James McGalliard 2011

Inpress: Published on page 57
Drum: Published on page 60

Scapegoating

London Fields # 58

First published Inpress, Melbourne on 3 December 2008

NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

Righteous indignation seems to be favourite pastime of a disgruntled populace. Fanning the flames of anger helps to sell newspapers, so it’s become the backbone philosophy of certain British tabloids (or Red Tops as they’re known) and perhaps their lifeblood. Deliberately provocative language is used to heighten emotions, and the manipulation may also make you seethe with rage.

They need things for you to be angry about, and while there’s nothing new about making news out of nothing, this rebel-rousing feels like the work of the Ministry Of Truth. You’ll find stories of how youth are out of control, or how Britain is not as great as it was, or how foreigners are taking away British identity. And this sort of piffle perpetuates the vision of a decaying nation and opens the door to politicians that play on dreams of sovereignty and jingoistic nationalism.

The British believe strongly in justice. So when someone was voted off The X Factor is questionable circumstances, Ofcom (the broadcasting standards council), was besieged with complaints. In this instance, people actually watched that show, and made complaints themselves before it became a news story. But that’s not always the case.

I’m not sure how much of BBC’s Manuelgate permeated the Australian conscience, so here’s a brief précis. On a Thursday night, comedian Russell Brand was pre-recording his Saturday night show for BBC Radio 2, along with special guest Jonathan Ross, a near ubiquitous BBC presenter and talk show host. They unsuccessfully tried to contact Andrew Sachs (Manuel from Fawlty Towers) for a phone interview. As he was unavailable, they left four explicit messages on his answerphone, centring on Brand’s dalliance with Sach’s granddaughter, the burlesque performer Georgina Baillie. Perhaps the presenters felt no need to curb their exuberance as the show wasn’t being broadcast live, so anything too risqué could be edited out later. Sachs was contacted about the messages and content prior to actual transmission. Here, accounts vary; certainly some material was cut, and the show was approved by station management and broadcast, claiming an audience of 400 000. Two of these listeners complained - about Ross’s language, not the content itself. More than a week later, The Mail on Sunday picked it up as a story, and from there it snowballed into front page news, and stayed there for weeks, going on to become one of the most complained about broadcasts in the history of the BBC. Ross was suspended without pay for three months, while Brand resigned, as did other high ranking BBC staff, including Lesley Douglas, the controller of BBC Radio 2 and BBC 6Music. Georgina Baillie hired publicist Max Clifford, and was the centre of a Channel 5 documentary called Russell & Ross: What the F*** Was All That About?

There are a number of key questions raised by it all. Do people in public life have a right to privacy, or has the world of gossip magazines and paparazzi taken that away? Was anyone hurt by it? Was it funny? And what does it mean for comedy? Adrian Edmondson (Vyvyan of The Young Ones) writing for The Independent, and the brilliant Charlie Brooker (whose television programme about television Screenwipe has recently returned to BBC Four) in The Guardian questioned the effect there might be on comedy if producers were so worried about reprisals and recriminations for allowing material which pushed the boundaries.

The real thing that was called into question in all this is the BBC’s role as a public broadcaster. Yet perhaps the reason for the story was envy – of the sexual proclivities of Brand, and the enormous pay packet of Ross (£6 million a year). Can an organisation which is funded by the public afford to pay commercial salaries? It probably wasn’t helped by Ross’s quip about his income at last years British Comedy Awards - "I'm worth 1,000 BBC journalists". Personally, I’ll pay the licence fee just for Doctor Who. Incidentally, this story almost buried the news that David Tennant is stepping down from the central role in Doctor Who at the end of next year. But it did allow former Doctor Sylvester McCoy to suggest on GMTV that Sachs and Baille could take the show back to its roots, with the Doctor as an old man, accompanied on his travels by his granddaughter.

A few days after newsagents were left with unsold newspapers with Brand or Ross on their covers, Barack Obama was elected president, and these papers were all sold by lunch. Brits care about a lot more than their television. The short sad life and circumstances surrounding the death of Baby P was indeed a tragedy, and one that caused genuine feelings of revulsion and sadness. But the prurient humour of two adult schoolboys knocked the government’s huge bail-out of British banks off the front page; and made us forget that the US election wasn’t taking place in the UK. Britain hoped too when it had a major change in 1997, and I don’t think it will ever forgive the Blair government for what followed. One can only hope that Australia and America are not similarly disappointed in their respective new golden ages.


© James McGalliard 2008

The Crunchy and The Smooth

London Fields # 52
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 21 May 2008
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

“If you hate the place so much, why have you lived there for the best part of twenty years?” This question arrived by e-mail in response to a recent column, and played on my mind for days. Was I portraying such a negative viewpoint, or merely being actively and critically aware? And if I did indeed hate London, why have I chosen to make this large, cold, distant and potentially dangerous city my home for so long?

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been watching a pair of magpies build a nest outside my office window. But I can no longer see it or them. For in the course of three days Spring arrived, and a tree of bare branches became so thick with foliage that the nest was lost from view. Now with this sudden change of season came the pollen, which for the past three years has blighted the capital with itching, eye irritation and other allergies. Even if you see it all though teary eyes, how can you not love a place that goes troppo the minute there is sun and temperatures over 20? The change in people’s personalities is astounding too, like that old episode of Star Trek where the townsfolk’s demeanour changed as the clock struck twelve. So too, the Londoners shed their winter hides and suddenly exchange scowls for smiles - there’s a latent friskiness in the air. At lunchtime, London Fields was awash with sunworshippers, and the turnstiles of the recently opened lido (outdoor swimming pool) clicked incessantly. It can be these little things that make you cherish a place so.

The London pub is a special place, and the old style establishments are becoming rarer all the time. Many have been converted into flats, or ‘upgraded’ to gastropubs and dining rooms. Yet they can still be found, and in a local boozer on a Hackney estate, they quickly learn your name, and remember what you drink. In this very pub recently a mate (London born and bred) commented on how hard it was to make friends here, but friendships you do make are exceedingly strong. So while it is harsh for the newcomer, there are rewards for staying longer term. For a place is as much about people as it is about architecture, and so London has become more an International city than a British one, as a true reflection of its shifting multicultural population.

Although folks moan about it, public transport in the capital is pretty amazing considering the sheer numbers it has to cope with. And living in a city so large means that it can take hours to get to a gig, but the sheer variety and number of acts means it’s hard to keep it to less than two nights a week. Bands from all over the world play here, and the local scene is better than it ever has been. Melbourne is so far away; here I see bands that have never made the journey there, sometimes because their Australian fanbase simply isn’t big enough to make a tour financially viable.

While it’s by no means perfect, the National Health Service (NHS) remains amazing, simply by surviving all the cutbacks. It may be underfunded, but is staffed by dedicated professionals who provide a high level of healthcare. You may sometime have to wait a while, and you’d be lucky to build the same bond that you had with your Australian GP, but I never fail to be impressed by a system that provides care to all, regardless of income or private insurance.

Another publicly funded jewel, the BBC, is an absolute gem. I may not entirely agree with its direction of travel, but find myself watching its five main television stations, listening to four of its radio stations, and using its comprehensive website daily. Really it is unmatched anywhere in the world. And it’s all commercial-free! British newspapers, from the popular red tops, to the ones given out free at train stations, to quality papers like The Independent and The Guardian are also wonderful. Without them, I feel disconnected from the wider world in a way that even the SBS News can’t fill.

I miss Cherry Ripes, and being able to say ‘Morning’ to people I pass in my street, and having a peer group with a similar background. But for the time being this will continue to be my home. I like that bands are finished by 11pm, so I can get to work the next day without too many ill effects. I love being embedded in history, from local place names, through to contemporary pop references.

I think what it all comes down to is that some time into a relationship, you realise that your chosen partner isn’t perfect. You see their faults, yet still love them. For if the things you love outweigh those you don’t, you stay. My eyes may wander, and my heart may desire more, but for now I’ll continue my relationship with London. Melbourne was my first love; and your first love remains with you for your whole life. I have no desire to be here when the Olympics arrive, and London is increasingly a city for the young. But for the time being at least, London is the one I’ll come home to each night.

© James McGalliard 2008

A Rough Guide

London Fields # 21
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 14 December 2005
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here

"Does Camden Town really exist?" she asked me. It’s just after Faker have finished their final gig of their UK Tour [bottom of a bill of three acts on a quiet Wednesday night], and I’m talking to a 19 year old who’s only been in London a few weeks. "Well, I think I was there the other night", she continues, "but I can’t be sure if it was real or if I dreamed it…"

Camden used to be fabulous, a weird hybrid of Fitzroy and St Kilda. But no more - now you can’t get five paces without the ubiquitous offers of "skunkweed". It’s a journey to a destination, not a place to hang out in. Hoxton’s a much better bet, if you can cope with the coolsie factor.

Then she asked, "Are the Carling Venues the places to go?" The Melbourne equivalent would be "Can I catch upcoming acts cheap at The Metro and The Palace?" Some Aussies come to London and choose to live in SANZA share houses, get their news from TNT (a magazine for Antipodean travellers), and the Metro (a freebie morning tabloid, produced by Express Newspapers), go to Aussie pubs, and listen to JJJ on the internet. (By the way, SANZA is a horrible TNT-created acronym – lumping together all English conversant Southern Hemisphere travellers into the one basket – South Africa, New Zealand and Australia. Eek!). And of course, this lot go and see Aussie bands. In fact, now that you get pints in Melbourne pubs, some of them may as well have never left Australia at all.

But in deference to those seeking more, and as a Yuletide special, here are some handy hints which you may not find in your Lonely Planet or Let’s Go, especially for those who are making travel plans for a UK trip in 2006.

Gig Tickets. Beware of the sting of booking fees and postage costs – even though normal ticketing agents, a £12 ticket can easily jump to a £20 outlay. The trick is to buy in person, where possible. You can get tickets at face value for all Mean Fiddler venues from the Camden Ticket Office or Astoria box office, and the same applies at the Academy box offices for their venues. Of the agents, Stargreen are the best by far – reasonable fees, and friendly people. For some venues [Barfly, Scala] there is no place to buy without fees, so it’s a case of shopping around for the best deal. But don’t take too long as gigs are selling out in minutes, snatched by those hoping to turn a quick profit on eBay. To stand a hope, sign up for ticket alerts [Get Live, Ticketmaster, and Ticketweb] as these often offer gig presales.

Mailing lists are a great way to save money and find out what’s happening. Sign up to those from The Barfly, Plum Promotions [for The Marquee, Water Rats and Betsey Trotwood] and The Social. Check the websites for Bugbear Bookings [for Dublin Castle and The Hope and Anchor] and Up All Night Music for bands further down the pecking order. To save money, check the HMV and Virgin Megastore websites for free instore appearances. Join Artrocker – if you want Aussie bands, you could have seen Wolf & Cub, Love of Diagrams, Sinking Citizenship, Die! Die! Die! and The Grates, all for free in the last year alone. To find out what’s new, listen to BBC 6Music, or try XFM in the evenings. Also keep an eye on the websites Drowned In Sound, Sounds XP and Club AC30.

For a comprehensive 'What’s On', there’s nothing to beat Time Out. NME is no longer worth buying, but is worth flicking through for the live ads. Get The Guardian on a Saturday for The Guide. Try reading The Independent to get an overview of where you are, and what’s happening in the world. Eat at a caff and read their copy of The Sun – with three million copies sold a day it’s a window onto aspects of British life. As for music shopping, HMV is huge, and tempting, but Fopp is cheaper. There are some great second-hand shops, but you can find them for yourself…

Finally, don’t spend all your time in the capital; London is not the British Isles, or even England. Try living in Bristol, Manchester, Glasgow or even Dublin. They all have enough to offer that’s unique and interesting, and are large enough to get many of the acts that people stay in London to see.

I know a few people who have gone back to Melbourne because this place just really got to them after a while. It’s like surfing with really big waves – when things are going well, the rush is incredible, but when you get dumped it’s ten times worse than anything you’ve experienced before. The overriding thing is not to let London drain you of your creativity and spark. When you feel it’s time to move on, just do it.

Good luck and happy travels!


© James McGalliard 2007