HMV for Mama

Is the writing on the wall for recorded music? Have record bosses finally started to accept that digital music is heading one way - free?

By buying into Mama Group's live music venues, HMV are clearly wanting a piece of the action. Because when all is said and done, its the single component of the music industry as we know it, which will continue to earn a crust long into the future. The rest of HMVs portfolio could, arguably, all be obsolete within 10 years. Records and print are all going one way - digital - unless you're like Carrie Bradshaw in SATC 1, who loves the smell of books. Or a Luddite like me, who still loves getting CDs for my birthday and reading through the thank you's and contributors on the sleeve.

Very few seem to have developed a good model for monetising digital content - either because we just haven't figured it out yet, or because it just doesn't work and will be an alien concept to us in the future.

Of course, HMVs love-in with Mama Group may simply be sold as branching into a related market, or the more obvious synergies (usually means its doomed to fail) - and not just any old synergies, but "powerful" ones at that, according to HMV.

The costs of digital distribution (as opposed to recording) are minuscule - the very opposite of having a physical presence on the High Street - which costs a fortune and is probably losing hand over fist at the moment, unless you're buying gold for cash, from the unfortunates.

Will others follow HMVs lead?

eBay will save the planet

The Copenhgen bigwigs need look no further than the eBay model to massively cut global warming.

Let's say that 50% of carbon emissions result from making stuff to be consumed by our MTV cum iphone, having-it-all, OTM generation. eBay is the epitome of how this same generation will reduce the need to make more stuff. Ditto for the likes of freecycle, and now the non-virtual version - the 'Living and Giving' charity shop opened up by Mary Portas.

There is already so much stuff out there. Surely there is no need to make yet more puffball skirts, legwarmers, bug-eyed sunglasses, sofas, beds, garden furniture etc, etc. Any mechanisms to encourage the recycling of all this stuff, and the low-carbon logistics to get the stuff to those that want or need it, should be promoted endlessly. Especially when it is also commercially attractive to the owners and the wanters of all this stuff.

We will only change our behaviour when it is in our own interest to do so. eBay, freecycle and the likes can make this happen.

When One Woman's Tweet is Another Woman's Privacy

Talk about a storm in a tweetcup! When Penelope Trunk tweeted the following, she caused an outcry:
I'm in a board meeting. having a miscarriage. Thank goodness, because there's a f***ed-up 3-week hoop-jump to have an abortion in Wisconsin

Now, I'm not really interested in discussing the ins and outs of abortion, or how women deal with miscarriage or the rights/or not of the unborn child vs woman's body debate.

But I am intrigued at the furore that the Tweet has caused. In fact I cannot believe this to be the most offensive thing ever posted on Twitter, Facebook, myspace or wherever. So why all of the fuss?

I have been dabbling with social networking sites for a little while now, and have been on facebook in particular for some time. I am utterly amazed at the level of, often intimate, detail that people will post for old school friends, family members, work colleagues, bosses and acquaintances to see. And I'm not talking teenagers here - I'm talking 30 and 40 somethings, who seem to be at the forefront of online living - escapism from middle-aged mediocre lives, or simply a way of cranking up ones productivity. Who knows.

There was even the case of the MI6 chief - John Sawers, whose wife had posted numerous family photos and details of holidays etc on her facebook account. Doh! And surely therein lies the issue. When does the release of information jeopardise either your own or someone else's security? Or when is the content so grossly offensive that it breaks some law or other? Surely anything else is completely up to the individual.

People are trying to sell their virginity, and their grannies on ebay. The miscarriage tweet, though it may offend many, is really no big deal.

Pierre Hardy for GAP Mania

Someone, somewhere in advertising deserves a medal. Talk about hype, viral marketing and every other mad men dream of what a successful promo campaign looks like.

I first clocked these boots in Grazia, the bible of all things fashion, roughly a couple of months ago. And I knew it then, that after a year of credit-crunch conservatism and carefully constrained card activity, these were the one investment piece that I simply had to have. These, and the Matthew Williamson parrot print and sequin maxi kaftan that were my Summer investment piece(s).

It was love at first sight. I started an affair with the boots. I knew that if I could just get my hands on them they would be the last pair of boots I would ever need. In fact, probably the last pair of footwear altogether. No, actually, scrub that last part. I definitely cant wear the boots in the Summer with the MW kaftan now, can I?

OK, so all I needed to do was procure said boots and live happily ever after. Which sounds so easy doesn't it? Except that you cant get them anywhere for love nor money - not on the internet where you can normally find anything, nor in the old-fashioned real shops where you can see, touch and try things before you buy. And forget GAPs own website for any sniff of a boot, or even any info on the release date for these beauties.

So I decided to take the very last resort. Faceless internet, corporate, contact email address "When and where can I get these boots?" And just like that, I was on the coveted waiting list. The one which apparently is littered with the fashion glitterati, the great and the good. For three whole weeks I waited tentatively for my treasure. It was like waiting for a baby to arrive. And on the due date I couldn't help ringing up for news, like an impatient, expectant relative.

"Wait your turn - they are working through the list, but you might not get exactly what you were after." No Way!!! this feels like taking candy from a baby - the cruel injustice blah blah blah..

By 5 o'clock I am now salivating over my mobile phone, which has been surgically attached to my hand all day and has accompanied me through a flurry of big-wig work meetings.

And then I get through, right at the end of the day and place my order, one in each colour - natch. I am so shallow - shallow and happy, with cool must-have boots.

Its Back

Apologies now, to all high-brow musicians who would not dare to stoop so low as to even entertain the thought of watching a trivial, trite, popularity-contest-masquerading-as-a-singing-cum-talent-competition, and utter manipulation and misrepresentation of the blood, sweat and tears that is the music business. Of course, for us normal folk who enjoy listening to pop music, and quite fancy a bit of light-hearted entertainment with the odd bit of over-dramatisation, Saturday nights mean one thing - X Factor (watched live or Sky Plusd of course).

Over the next three months millions of conversations will be had over the wisdom of the judges, the song choices, the shaggy dog stories, the Christmas duets. Like it or not, its becoming a hefty part of British pop culture.

So, who is my money on. Well, I got it wrong last year by backing Laura White, who I would still cite as the better performer. This year, I feel the standard is mediocre - the Girls all sound nice, but a bit bland, same for the Boys. The Groups are generally atrocious, except for the interesting rapper/singer who stands out a mile, and has been forced into a group in a blatant attempt by the judges to bolster that category. For the first time in a few years, the Overs is the category to watch, particularly the men. If I was Simon, I would take all four blokes through. Except he can only have three, and I cant see him keeping it an all male affair, although I'm sure the female viewers wouldn't mind.

This year, l am backing Daniel Pearce - the second time around guy, with the mohican. Lets see if I'm right...

Change is Way Better Than a Rest

Is that really true? If change is better than rest, or if any change is better than bad status quo (discuss), why do people (still) avoid change?

I started a new job some weeks ago, and I have confirmed what I suspected and posted at the time. I heart change. Or at least, I love the results that change can bring about. Seeing a positive impact because of something you have done, said, or how you behave is seriously addictive. I believe its this 'making a difference' that we all crave, or at least trot out. Which, out of interest, I have been citing in job interviews for the past 20 years, near enough. So I assume it must be true (discuss). So much so, that I am also coming to realise that it probably doesn't even matter if one job or company is better than the next for me, because I feel able to change enough variables if something isn't working. Plus, the thing that really floats my boat is busting a cap in the status quo, so it is almost irrelevant what the starting point is. All that matters is that my contribution makes a positive impact in a way agreed with my employer's objectives.

I'm not saying all change is rosy. And I'm not saying I'm a robot who could work in any type of environment per se. That would be foolishly naive. And at times, I have found the degree of change, the need to assimilate new information, ways of doing things, and making sense of it all quite challenging. Perhaps there is a future post about our ability to deal with change as we get old(er).

But for me, I have confirmed that I find change and challenge totally energising. A pleasure, not a pain. A delight not a chore. Something to embrace and not to fear. After all, its inevitable, isn't it?

Good Things Come in Small Packages

Have you ever wanted something so badly it totally consumes every waking thought. At least whenever you stop to pause between work, the kids, the next deadline, domestic chores, that is. Which of course I am totally relaxed about after beginning to apply Getting Things Done.

Anyway, I love discovering new music. A soulful, jazzy singer songwriter ticks a lot of boxes for me. Jazmine Sullivan ticked a lot of those boxes and has an exceptional voice to boot. Unfortunately for me, her profile has been fairly low key and she has done few live gigs in the UK. Imagine my child-like excitement when I get the Jazz Cafe e-flyer announcing a UK date. Yay!!!! The celebration was short-lived. By the time I went online to buy she was sold out - boo!!!! Gutted was not the word. I called up my music biz brother, who is friends with the supporting band, to see whether he could hook me up, as the youngsters say. No joy! Being a small venue, everything was tight, tight, tight. Damn. But, wait, apparently there might be another gig. Yay.

The tickets for the second gig went on sale on Aug 20th, the date I flew out on holiday at the crack of dawn. Needless to say, by the time I had even thought about anything remotely connected with home or work, like the internet, they were all sold out...again...damn...deja vu. Absolutely gutted, mortified. Anyway, long story short, by some fluke of luck, on Tuesday, 2 days before the gig, I received a call to say I had won 2 tickets in a competition I found online. Obviously, you've got to be in it to win it ;-)

So last night, I went to see the amazing Jazmine Sullivan. Bloomin brilliant. Even better than the album, and I believe she has more to give. One of the best performers I have seen for a long time. But I couldn't help wonder why only 2 dates, at such a small venue? Yes, I know it is the Jazz Cafe, which certainly used to have a reputation as an uber cool, intimate and exclusive haunt. But now? really? Surely not for an up and coming talent, who has been on the scene for a couple of years. Surely there is a lesson in here around promotion. That aside, due to the size of the club I was able to easily squeeze my way to a decent mid-section of the crowd. Even better, I was able to exploit my lifelong height disadvantage to full effect to get right to the front - the very front! There's nothing better than being 2 feet away from someone sharing their deepest thoughts and feelings with you in melodious tones, riffs, jazz scats - you name it, she can do it. And as a bonus, she was wearing amazing shoes.