I was too young to go to Live Aid and also lived a bit too far away. As it turned out, it was also held on the first day of my first ever Saturday job, so I missed the first five hours, though my parents did very kindly tape it for me, and I still have the video. I would have given just about anything to have been there, but it was in no way attainable.
Live8 was a lot more attainable but I was a lot less interested. I'm 20 years older, I've been to a lot more gigs, and I work for an organisation that is part of Make Poverty History. I guess I felt it was something I didn't need to do, even before I got bloody tonsilitis at bloody Glastonbury.
But I've found watching it on TV strangely emotional. The whole Live Aid resonance was unexpectedly nostalgic, and reminded me of Saturdays in the bread shop and, later, nights working in the Queens pub with the Who on repeat on the jukebox. How young we were. Robbie Williams was incredible. So was Annie Lennox. And when Pink Floyd played Wish You Were Here, I found tears rolling down my cheeks, for things past and gone and never coming back. Lord only knows what it would have been like to be there, though I could have been stuck in the toilet queue for any of those moments.
Time I wish there *had* been a toilet queue to be stuck in though: Mariah Carey. What is she *like*? An American size silicone bowl of saccharine gack topped with self-important sprinkles. Ewww. And that bit with the orphans from 'Africa', like Africa is the same size as Chicago or something. You can see why Madge is an Anglophile.
My extreme loathing of Mariah Carey nearly neutralised my general irritation with Jo 'Madonna excelled (sic) my expectations' Whiley. But not quite. Let's just say it was very gratifying when George Michael slapped her.
joella
2 comments:
George Michael slapped Jo Whiley? Wow. I wish I'd watched it now.
Yes -- only on the hand, sadly, but really hard. He was embarrassed, she was embarrassed, it was great.
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