Madonna at 60

73ef1cf1d175ef806239d0a6683812ce.png

A few years ago I booked tickets for my friend and I to attend the premiere of Madonna’s film W.E. as part of the London Film Festival. It was due to be held on a Sunday night and nothing suggested it would be anything more than a screening – it was hardly a blockbuster, after all. So it was that we rocked up to Leicester Square, very hungover from the night before and resembling buskers, to find that we were attending a full-blown Hollywood premiere replete with hordes of onlookers and media. We had to queue in a line full of people in very expensive tuxedos and dresses to enter the Square, whereupon we found ourselves thrust onto the red carpet. I was in something of a daze as I walked towards the cinema, cameras flashing around me and faces I recognised roaring into view. My friend suddenly got very animated and pointed to my side. It took a moment but then I saw her – Madonna, stood a couple of metres away from me. It was a surreal, disorienting moment – my friend told me to stand in front of her and he snapped a couple of photos before a security guard appeared and shouted at us to keep moving – but more than anything I couldn’t quite believe that the woman beside me was Madonna. Madonna. A presence so enormous, so overwhelming, such a cornerstone of popular culture that she couldn’t possibly just be a person, could she?

There’s a famous clip of a young Madonna, asked by Dick Clark on American Bandstand what she hopes for her career, responding with ‘to rule the world’. She radiates charm and self-confidence but no-one at the time, surely not even Madonna herself, could have anticipated that she would not only rule the world but transform it. Madonna became one of the extraordinary, and extraordinarily rare, titans of culture who reach a level where it’s impossible to imagine our world without them. She is just there in the same sense that Shakespeare or Star Wars or karaoke is there. To say Madonna is the most successful female artist in history is like saying Coke is the most successful soft drink, so mind-bogglingly enormous as to become meaningless. Indeed, she may be the most famous woman on the planet but her status as a cultural icon is so established and unassailable that it’s inevitable we would forget she’s just a person, with everything that entails. She’s the object of endless throwaway opinions and casual cruelties from people for whom she’s as impersonal as Coke. Yet one woman really did all that.

Todway that woman turns 60. As shocking and devastating as the deaths of Michael Jackson and Prince were, it somehow seems apt that Madonna would be the member of the ‘Triumvirate’ to stay the course. That doesn’t necessarily work to her advantage – we like our cultural icons to be ethereal and unchanging in ways which an ageing, flawed person can’t possibly be and for all her fuck-ups and failures, much of the shit Madonna gets is because she can never be the ‘Madonna’ most people remember or imagine. Nevertheless, the world will miss her when she’s gone and it’s heartening that at moments like this there’s a taking stock, a recognition that she’s worth celebrating while she’s still around.

I don’t have to write about what Madonna means to me because I’ve done it many times before. Suffice to say that Madonna has saved me in ways too numerous to mention and too profound to articulate. The song which I return to most often from her last album, Rebel Heart, is the title track – it captures something of the ache I’ve felt that Madonna soothes:

Thought I belonged to a different tribe

Walking alone, never satisfied, satisfied

Trying to fit in but it wasn’t me

I said ‘oh no, I want more, that’s not what I’m looking for’

So I took the road less travelled by

And I barely made it out alive

Through the darkness somehow I survived

Tough love, I knew it from the start

Deep down in the depth of my rebel heart

I’ve never felt that I fit in but that has allowed me to fully understand the transcendent power of truly exceptional pop music, of the kind Madonna has created over and over again. Whether it be singing in my own living room or dancing in a room filled with friends and strangers, Madonna’s music revitalises me (makes me feel shiny and new, you might say) and makes me feel alive to possibilities which the grind of daily life can cause to slip from view. When I celebrate Madonna’s birthday at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern tonight my heart will swell with joy and I will feel that I’ve never belonged anywhere more than I do on that dancefloor and never been a better version of myself than I am when I’m dancing. Madonna is only one person but she has made my world, and the world of millions of others, immeasurably better (and a whole lot more fun).

Happy birthday and thanks, Madonna. Sorry we looked a mess on your red carpet.

Advertisements

Fuck Trump.

Trump is terrible. Fuck Trump.

I think there’s a very real danger that he’s used as a bogeyman which other politicians use to frame themselves as ‘reasonable’ and ‘civilised’. He’s very loud in his bigotry. The fact Theresa May isn’t shouldn’t mean we see a government which deports black British people, which splits families because one or more of them are immigrants, which has already and will continue to make life for immigrants crueller and more difficult, which is ramping up poverty and homelessness, cosying up to authoritarian regimes around the world and far too many other mendacious things to mention, as any ‘better’ or more acceptable. Nick Clegg has stated he’s going to protest Trump. Nick Clegg was Deputy Prime Minister when the government introduced the ‘hostile environment’ for immigrants, sent ‘Go Home’ vans around the country, introduced austerity and began strangling the NHS. Politicians like Nick Clegg have destroyed lives just as surely as Trump, yet are seen as better because they’re well-spoken and don’t vocalise the bigotries which lie behind e.g. immigration policy.

Protesting Trump means protesting his values and policy. That’s great and it should be a moment where we recognise those values and policy in our own government and endeavour to stand against it. And yes, it means working within other parties to stand against any policy drift which is driven by appealing to the worst in people. That means educating ourselves about what’s going on in the UK, about immigration, about poverty, about LGBT issues, about housing, about healthcare, about the daily reality for millions of people.

The way we defeat politicians like Trump is by being armed with education, motivated by compassion and justice and acting with courage against those who seek to pursue his values.

Mhairi Black and Jeremy Corbyn

Rather than rewrite it, here’s a thread I did on Twitter addressing Mhairi Black’s latest attack on Corbyn:

Tory England

11329746_10153243750220709_2524795992756687755_n

Tomorrow there are local elections across England, the first since Theresa May called her disastrous General Election in the arrogant assumption that her putrid brand of racist, xenophobic nationalism would see her sweep aside all opposition. She was, thankfully, proved wrong. Yet we still live in a Tory England.

We still live in the Tory England where over 71 people can burn to death in their own homes in the context of a tangible contempt for social housing tenants, the deregulation of the building industry in order to place profits above people and ideologically-motivated cuts to local authority budgets, the fire service and legal aid. The Tory England where, almost a year on, people continue to wait to be rehoused in a way they would not be if they were wealthy, and if they were largely white.

We still live in the Tory England where people can lose their jobs, their homes, their right to healthcare, even their right to stay in this country because the government perceives that fuelling  ignorant racism is worth more to its survival than basic human decency. So hateful and self-defeating is this perception that the government seeks to deny doctors, nurses and students the ability to live here if they happen to have been born somewhere else.

We still live in the Tory England where people die waiting for ambulances, die in the back of ambulances, die in hospital beds sitting in corridors, because the government places its ideological drive to destroy the public sector above the enduring (just) dream of good healthcare, free for everyone. After a decade of increases, NHS funding has declined steadily since 2010 just as an ageing population sees it facing its biggest challenges. The British Medical Journal has linked these cuts to at least 120,000 excess deaths in England, “with the over 60s and care home residents bearing the brunt”.

We still live in the Tory England where the number of people sleeping on our streets has increased every year since 2010 and the number of these homeless people dying has more than doubled in the past five years.

We still live in the Tory England where the number of children living in poverty has soared since 2010, with just under a third of children currently living in poverty and almost two-fifths forecast to be so by 2022. A majority of teachers report that child poverty is noticeably worse in their schools, with children attempting to steal food because they’re hungry or even turning up with no shoes because their families can’t afford new ones. This is a Tory England where foodbank use is at record levels, as families turn to the kindness of strangers just to eat. Tory economic policies, meanwhile, continue to hit the poorest the hardest – an analysis made by the government’s own economists.

We still live in the Tory England where austerity has led to a lost decade, with economists suggesting a cost to GDP equivalent to over £10,000 per household. Wages have stagnated for a decade and living standards have faced their most sustained and deepest decline in over 60 years. Young people have been particularly hit by this, facing low wages, precarious employment and soaring housing costs. After a rapid decline following the economic crash, personal debt has soared in the past few years as people turn to loans and credit cards just to live.

We still live in the Tory England where Theresa May clings desperately to the DUP for survival, refusing to take forward equal marriage in Northern Ireland to satisfy her bigoted pals.

We still live in the Tory England where Theresa May cosies up to the brutal regime in Saudi Arabia, ramping up arms sales as it murders people indiscriminately in Yemen while professing to care about ‘humanitarian concerns’. In Tory England’s glorious ‘Brexit Britain’, the UK cosies up to the UAE, Indonesia, Kuwait, Bahrain – no regime is beyond the pale when there’s money to be made.

We still live in the Tory England where the new Home Secretary can be a documented tax evader, moving within a cabinet flush with multi-millionaires who slash and burn public services in order to ‘outsource’ them to their pals (or themselves), talking tough on people funnelling their money offshore while doing everything possible to avoid doing much about it.

The UK is an enormously wealthy country. It will remain an enormously wealthy country even if and when Brexit hits our economy. There is nothing inevitable about any of the above. Soaring child poverty is a political choice. A crumbling NHS is a political choice. Councils going bankrupt and ramping up council tax to cope with slashed central government funding is a political choice.

Tory England is a political choice and one which I don’t believe most people in England actively want.

Labour is far from perfect and it falls on everyone who cares about social justice to maintain pressure on them to do better. Yet Corbyn’s Labour is not only a clear and present difference to Tory England, the General Election of 2017 underlines that it’s a viable one. Things can be better. We just have to want it. Just before GE2017 I wrote a blog which began with words from Eugene V. Debs – words I wrote with what felt at the time like hopeless optimism. Now that optimism doesn’t feel hopeless. Reject Tory England and vote Labour.

“Let the people everywhere take heart of hope, for the cross is bending, the midnight is passing, and joy cometh with the morning – Eugene V. Debs

My Songs and Albums of 2017

In no particular order.

Songs:

Albums: