10 Years Younger...

One of us. One of us. One of us.

10 Years Younger in 10 Days is surprisingly hardcore, as if a team of aliens had descended from planet Botox to mold us in their image. For one, it sprinkles low-key cosmetic surgery procedures into an average makeover show (this somehow seems more sinister than Extreme Makeover, which is a bit more up-front about things.) But more bizarrely, it deposits its participants in large perspex boxes, smack-bang in the centre of Circular Quay... to be judged. And then there's Sonia Kruger who emanates a hardcore, gym-buffed, tanned, no-nonsense Sydney socialite vibe.

But there's also a naff element to things. The advisory teams seem a bit... clunky. Lots of awkward silences and uncomfortable laughter. Like they're trying to be either Carson or the horrid Trinny and Sussanah. And the "looks" they create are somewhat kitchen-sink... Whiter teeth, less weight, more tan... pink for the girls, blue for the guys. "Let's bring out your feminine side", and so forth.

And most shockingly, last night the "lack of hair" problem "suffered" by the male participant was solved by shaving off the top plate of his head, and then glueing on a "semi-permanent" hair solution. This reminded me of the unconvincing room makeovers delivered by Changing Rooms -- you always got the sense that the "nautical themed" kids room wouldn't survive a week of real-life living, and nor do you get the sense that a "semi-permanent" hair solution is gonna look quite as permanent in a few weeks time.  But seriously, the evil subtext is that it's making botox, eye-lifts and tummy tucks seem as everyday as dye-jobs and a new fringe. Maybe it is a bit of an arbitrary boundary, but stretching the scope of conformist self-recreation to include the body is a bit frightening. 

Kylie admits to Botox, and various other miscellaneous procedures. Good on her. I admire her delicate wording around plastic surgery "issues". Traditionally she's said she makes the best of what's available to look her best, and then quite rightly points out that when she looks good we say she's had work done, and when she doesn't we say she's old, and probably should get work done. Fair point. Because I think on some level we want her to remain ageless.

I've also enjoyed Courtney Love's (initial) response to plastic surgery rumours -- wearing a smirk, and with a twinkle in her eye, she simply proclaimed the transformative powers of yoga. Then there's Cher's choice quote: "they are my tits and if I wanna have them put on my back that is my own damn business". Another fair point. And speaking of such bold procedures, Joan Rivers has now written a guide to plastic surgery, which I'm not entirely sure is a joke.

But still no word from Madge:

As a rule I find plastic surgery much more creepy when it's not spoken about. For example, every time I see a photo of Madge's face now I can't help but picture two silicone orbs stuffed under her cheeks. Cheeks are huge right now.

Madonna vs Cyndi

Back in January I started a lazy pop cultural wrap up of 2008 and got as far as Sticky & Sweet and KylieX2008. Yes, many other things happened last year, but these were such obviously monumental events they deserved primary consideration. But as it's, like, March, I thought I'd continue sifting through the wash-up of a quite significant year in pop...

You know something's going on if two groundbreaking female pop icons forged in the mid-8os, both recently turned 50, release albums within months of each other. And while I remember thinking when these came out that they seemed such different approaches for mid-life pop stars to take, there's actually some structural similarity between the two that makes their apparent differences even more interesting. 

Most obviously, Madge's Hard Candy is a take on R&B, whereas Cyndi's thrown her lot into eurodance (which is, funnily enough, where Madge was positioning herself with Confessions on a Dance Floor). When I first heard that Madge was going to be working with Timbaland and Timberlake I was a little worried -- why would she follow up something groundbreaking by jumping on a bandwagon that had already passed? Well, there's always some method to Madge's near pathalogical fascination with the new. It turns out Confessions just didn't sell well in the US. On a business level, I guess it would make sense to claw back the American market by givin em' what they want, but artistically it seemed quite regressive that she would sell herself out to hit-makers who were already beginning to lose their sheen.

While I can say with utter certainty that the result, Hard Candy, is awful, I'm still intrigued by it for reasons unknown. I think the awfulness stems from the improbability of a 50 year old control freak singing:

See which flavor you like and I'll have it for you
Come on in to my store, I've got candy galore
Don't pretend you're not hungry, I've seen it before
I've got turkish delight baby and so much more.

This sounds creepy, but something about it keeps making me think of menopause, although I'm sure that's some sick preoccupation of my own. 4 minutes seemed similarly disingenuous, with it's half-hearted and vague eco-message (messages which always seem a bit off from Madonna and her 'nannies, assistant driver and a jet'). To boot, she sounded completely bored throughout, except, interestingly, in the excellent Give it 2 Me -- I always believe Madonna more when she's singing about getting what she wants, working hard, and screwing over whoever gets in the way. But most of it was bad R&B dross. So, so, sad, and a commercial failure, which proves once again that you don't crack America by making music you expect America wants. But still my fascination. I think it's cause I secretly want to believe that Madonna remains eternal, and if you listen to select moments and don't actually look at her, you can just for a second believe she's unstoppable.

Even though Cyndi Lauper's Bring Ya to the Brink was a no-apologies dance record, it was Max Martin who she turned to for some of its best bits, which suggests that its quirkiness was coming from her own input rather than producer smarts. It also means that, in terms of turning to the hit-makers, Lauper wasn't that different to Madge in her method. Martin's Into the Nightlife has one of the *best* choruses I've heard in a long time, and while some songs veered into anonymous disco, her personality's so winning they're saved from complete banality. But most satisfying were the more ballady moments (e.g. Echo), where she proved she's still able to project fragility and vulnerability with the same kind of authenticity she showed with Time After Time and True Colours. Considering Madge's obsession with youth, it's funny that Bring ya seems like a much younger record -- I can actually believe that Lauper would, you know, go out and stuff, whereas Madge seems like she might be taking tips from Lourdes. If Hard Candy is a steely career women botoxed to oblivion (or perhaps some Patty Hughes from Damages type creature), Bring ya is the fun and kooky art teacher who never works out but still goes clubbing on the weekends. Or something.

And another thing...

Piano on the beach? A pinch of Elton John, a dash of Jane Campion and a big dollop of cheese.

Some reasons why Delta Goodrem annoys (trying not to sound like a fan forum bitch...)

She wants to be Kate Bush but she’s actually a Sony pawn: There's a contradiction when a self-fashioned Kate Bush waif launches her career with ‘Born to Try’, an anthem of competitive drive, and a sort of self-reflexive statement about her desire to reach number 1. For Delta this has been an enduring tension between the banal and the creatively high-reaching, as she forges a unique niche as half Celine Dion, half Tori Amos. Her definitive 2004 Arias comeback performance exemplifies this unsettling pop hybridity:

Note the pretentious setting: piano surrounded by candles, presumably scented with jasmine. Note the initial “Delta playing piano” section to demonstrate that Delta can indeed play the piano. Note the movement into farce half way through as she steps away from the piano (even through inexplicably the piano somehow keeps playing), walks to centre stage and deploys some vintage Kate Bush theatrical dancing that veers awfully close to Mr. G. Note also that she cannot hit the high notes. And note ALSO that this most theatrical of lovesongs is about The Poo, possibly the dimmest man alive, as the exquisite Age of Love reality show proved.

She wants to be sugar-sweet, but she’s part of the fame machine: I don’t technically have a problem with plastic surgery unless it's systematically concealed and written off as natural beauty (“I’ve discovered yoga”, “I’ve lost my puppy fat”). This makes other people feel bad and entrenches generic beauty codes. Particularly for Delta who has legions of 4 year olds following her every move, her transformation into Malibu Barbie seems a bit jarring. The photos do not lie [although for legal reasons they are perhaps misleading]. Delta has had [seems to have had] one (or two) nose jobs, which provides more evidence of tension between her quest for artistic credibility and her counter-tendency towards lowest common-denominator conventionality. It’s kind of like Tori Amos getting botox, although at least she had the courage to admit to a bit of “feng shui of the face”. 

Compelling? And for even more evidence...

She should stop shoving her relationship with Brian McFadden in our faces: That’s right. Some of my best friends are married. I don’t have a problem with marriage. But I don’t have to see it every day. Keep it to yourselves, keep it in the bedroom.

2008 part one: Sticky & Sweet

Look at those massive, massive cheeks!

I've been neglecting things here lately because, mostly, I've been slave to feelings of *I should be doing something more important*, even if not actually doing so. This means I've missed the perfunctory 2008 wrap-up post. So over the next few weeks I'll try to cover the key points, at least. These are: Madonna's Sticky & Sweet tour and Kyliex2008, both of which my meandering search-for-meaning activities managed to get me to last year (or in Kylie's case, 3 times). So to get the ball rolling, here's my take on Sticky & Sweet, a profoundly disappointing tour.

But I should be honest. My perception of Sticky & Sweet is skewed in two ways. Firstly, by the absolute wonder of the Confessions tour, and secondly, Madge's ill-fated decision to purchase slightly too large and distracting cheek implants. This means that, for me at least, the whole show is infused with a sense of decay, decline, tragic-fending-off-ageing-but-failing, and various other negative associations. But also, aesthetically, the show just wasn't very good.

Whereas Confessions seemed like a holistically conceived and realised masterpiece (and I'm not exaggerating), Sticky seemed slightly av. As in the kind of show you might get from Janet Jackson or Xtina. But not a Madonna masterpiece. Here are some of the problems:

1. Awful costumes that accentuated Madge's gruesome and ghoulish new look.

2. Crass lighting and visual imagery that seemed cheap and cheerful.

3. Too much bodgy guitar. Look, we know you can't really play guitar, so if you need a rest just do what every other superstar does and keep the crowd in a holding pattern with a "dance" interlude while you take a break.

4. A bizarre "gypsy" interlude (when in fact, Madge seemed to be sitting on floor cushions, perhaps also taking a little mini-break)

5. A profound sense of soullessness and lack of joy.

6. The fact that Hard Candy is just not that good. And no Stuart Price.

While, yes, she can still dance, I was left with the impression that this was some kind of tipping point moment on the way to a more Cher-like freak show era. And yes, a lot of this is about age. Watching Confessions in 2005,  it really did seem like Madge had valiantly thwarted the ageing process. Not just because she had a more subtle face lift at the time (presumably), but also because she really did seem to be at the top of her game in every aspect. But now there's the sense that yes, she's human, and that also, for the moment at least, she's lost her way. Looking forward to the comeback. 

Her sugar is RAW.

So sad... don't mess with cheeks!

2008

2005