OK, it was all horrible - horribly predictable and predictably horrible, horrible. I am, of course, speaking of Live 8. There were many lowlights but I'll just highlight a few.
First, Bono, Bono, Bono. Now, against my better instincts, U2 are a band I don't mind, they can quite competently write a little jangly stadium rock song - fine. But, Bono, if there is a more self-serving, sanctimonious and wearisome rock tsar (sic) than him out there, I'd like to meet him, and beat them to a bloody pulp. He "did this face" when on stage with the dilapidated McCartney that made me want to chew my own arm off. Bono and McCartney, where was their "moral outrage" at the onset of the mass slaughter in Iraq? Perhaps they misplaced it while dragging their guilt ridden behinds around assorted African villages, "entertaining" the bemused, but grateful, village folk. Or it may still be lodged somewhere in the orifice of Bush, who, were are told by the man with the sun glasses, has "done" more for Africa than any other Yanqui master. This may well be true, Bush may have "done" more - but more what? More pillaging? More structural re-adjustment? More arms sales to crackpot dictators?
So, Bono comes on and sings a few crowd pleasers, repeats a few platitudes about "making history" and then pisses off. McCartney looks weary - a burnt out old hippy who, although once a member of a fine rock band, is now as relevant as telegrams.
The crowd look slightly bemused during the whole affair. They listen to a few pop stars play their music, interlaced with teeth-grinding "pleas" to the G8 leaders, and all the while they are told to remember what they are "here for". You see, that's that the problem with the whole MPH, Live 8 "thing". It's a completely manufactured movement. Full of manufactured celebs and their manufactured guilt, cow-towing with manufactured politicians. Of course there is genuine "sentiment" out there in the country but so what? There bloody should be! We (or our governments) are the cause of that continent's misery.
Coldplay are like U2 and Martin is like Bono - though not nearly as annoying. At least Martin came out against the War (although this was just an exercise in pointing out the bloody obvious.)
My next lowlight was Geldof and a little Ethiopian girl he saved. Saint Bob, dressed all in white, like a Thatcherite charity mongering angel, explains that this little girl "wouldn't be here today without Live Aid [him]". The little girl looks up at Bob gratefully, her eyes bright and thankful. He looks at her and thinks "this is what it was all for", his heart swells, the audience applauds. An absolutely stomach churning disgrace but a nice little microcosm of the whole day. Her, the helpless African; him, the philanthropic Westerner; us, the passive observers; THEM, the saviours in waiting.
It all ends with a rousing version of Hey Jude - all in unison one last time to make poverty history. Bill Gates was there as well you know - though sadly no attempts were made at irony. Geldof called it a "great day". The audience left, their "consciousness raised", their minds at ease that Saint Bob and the leaders will make it all go away. The BBC packed away their belongings, there was "no violence" in Edinburgh, thankfully. Brown and Blair loved it, 20 died in a suicide bombing in Iraq. Elton John spent 20 grand on flowers - 30,000 children died in Africa, poor souls.
