This very night (tuesday the 21st of february) the Brit Awards 2012 will take place in London. Of all the award shows in what is now known as award season, this is the one that grates the most.
I have a strange attraction towards awards shows in general. They’re tedious, predictable and most of all downright bland yet I almost always insist we watch most of the ones that are televised, everything from the Golden Globes to the British Soap Awards (I really love Coronation Street, big whoop, wanna fight about it?). Maybe it’s because I want to sneer and spit venom at the people in attendance or maybe it’s because I dream that one day I will be one of the people in attendance. I trained for 3 years at Drama school to be an actor, which never really panned out but thats not to say it never will and if it ever does happen I want to be well prepared. So watching the Baftas or Oscars, and even the red carpet coverage that preceeds them, can be counted as some low level research into what may happen some day (yeah right!!). But I cannot stand the Brit awards.
Everything about the Brit awards is fucking horrible. There is a distinct lack of atmosphere, even though they pack out an arena and include what is supposedly the worlds hottest acts the whole evening limps along like I used to pre-surgery. Probably because the amount of people who attend and actually want to watch the show account for about a tenth of the audience. The rest is taken up by those who actually work in the industry and why would they care about what is happening or who is playing? That cuts into time they could better spend by being arseholes, which apparently is their favourite pastime.
Another of the biggest annoyances comes from the fact that you’re supposed to believe that the Brits are in some way dangerous and super controversial. Like something unbelievably rock’n’roll will happen and it’s a shock that this time bomb will be broadcast live to the nation on ITV. This is based on the fact that Jarvis Cocker once made pretend fart motions on stage during Michael Jackson’s ‘I’m Jesus’ routine, and someone from Chumbawamba threw a bucket of water over John Prescott. Woah now, these bad boys are out of control. Truth is, nothing even vaguely interesting happens and that is unlikely to change anytime soon.
Just look at the nominees as evidence of this. If they were a colour it would be something so bland that it makes beige look exciting. Why should such blandness be so celebrated? I don’t know which category to get more excited about first, Could Elbow possibly be considered better than Coldplay to take home best British group? Or will Ed Sheeran beat off stiff competition from James Morrisson to take home the gong for British Male Solo Artist in a category which should be re-titled ‘Biggest rape of an acoustic guitar’.
I could go on but I think it would be better if I could come up with a suggestion of how to make the awards infinitely better. Here is one possible solution: Make it my sole responsibilty to choose the winner of British Album of the Year. This, after all, is the ‘Big One’. The one they save for last and the whole awards show builds up to. By letting me choose then would at least make me want to watch the damn thing, so thats it decided and I have made my decision.
The winner of British album of the year goes to…………. BASTIONS for ‘Hospital corners’
After focussing on BASTIONS and their entourage jumping up in celebration, the camera would then pan over to BASEMENT who look a bit disappointed having been pipped to the award. The camera would then sweep back over the still warm corpses of Adele, Florence and all her machines and Coldplay who had mentioned tasting something funny in their champagne but had thought nothing better of it, and back to BASTIONS who are now thanking their p.a’s, stylists and fluffers. Or maybe not!!
BASTIONS would have to win though. Although I only got the album in the last few weeks, which explains why they weren’t included in my top 10 albums of 2011, the record has immediately become a firm favourite. I saw them play in Margate late last year and they were everything I want from a hardcore band. They were loud and powerful yet self effacing and awkward. No macho posturing or arrogance to put your neck out of joint, just good, honest hardcore with hooks a plenty. The album carries this forward. Interesting and exciting, with a pure vocal delivery, Jamie Burne’s amazing voice is backed up by a band who want to push things forward. Nothing is overdone, the guitar sound is big but at the same time raw and loose. Never reliant on reverting to customary tricks each song takes surprise twists here and there to make the album essential listening. Music not just to get up and jump around like a maniac to but also to sit, listen and appreciate the work and skill on display.
The abum is full of stand out tracks, like the epic closer ‘Dark Father’ and the immense ‘Warmth of the world’. Below is the video for track 2 on the record, ‘Visitant’. Maybe spend two hour watching this over and over tonight instead of the Brits, or the Shits as they should be called (yeah, good one!!). Or just spend the evening stuffing your face with pancakes, either way thanks for reading.
Cheers Guys xx