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Downloading & Charlotte Church 

By Dave Kenny

 

So again we have had more Tabloid scare stories about the horrors of Internet piracy threatening the Music industry with extinction. Like the last time, how Napster was going to kill all CD pressing world wide with its file sharing chicanery. And now the government and 6 of the major Broadband operators have joined forces with the music industry in attempt to stop people illegally downloading music and threatening people with nasty letters and cutting their internet off. My immediate response to this was one of bemused bafflement.

 

Its not too taxing on the grey matter to work out why the Record companies are all for clamping down on the illegal downloads, because it affects their profits. And it wasn’t a great stretch to work out there are probably legal issues of liability which worry the Broadband suppliers with huge law suits and the like. But I was confounded to why the government were making such a big deal out of this, as if it was a threat to national security, an Al Queada plot to undermine the cultural output of the western world maybe?? Too late, Simon Cowell has been at that for years but I couldn’t work it out, especially when there are far bigger problems in the world.

 

To paraphrase Quentin Tarantino in Pulp Fiction “But you know what's on my mind right now? It AIN'T the music on the kids I-pods, it's the dead Brazilian on the tube.”

 

Now this isn’t going to be some anti capitalist rant about the distribution of wealth and about how all property is theft. The way I see it if someone was trying to steal a bit of my pay packet I would be doing more than having an Internet Service Provider send them a strongly worded letter, I can assure you. But please can we just stop with the lying.

 

Whenever you hear about the amount of money the music Industry is losing to piracy and  that how this loss in revenue ultimately affects the music lover because they cannot invest in new talent blah blah blah, It makes me sick to the pit of my stomach.

 

 I feel like shouting “Tell me the truth!! I’m an adult, I’m a grown up, tell me the truth, I can take it, honestly.” I know it, you know it and the music industry damn well knows the reason they want to stop piracy is nothing to do with protecting artists integrity and providing the customer with a superior product. It’s because it takes away a significant amount of its profits. And that’s okay. The clue is in the name. The Music Industry. Its exactly what is says it is, an industry, a business, a way of making money, an endeavour for profit. Just spare me your lies. I would respect them a lot more if they just come ahead and said “Stop stealing from us you toerags, you’re eating into our profit margins. How are we meant to afford enough ching for whatever band of Camden knobheads we’ve just signed if you just keep downloading.”

 

And that’s another thing, when did everybody become an Artiste?

Before you were in a band, or a singer, or played the gazoo, now you have the somewhat lofty title of Artiste. Do one you soppy tarts. How can anyone seriously sit with a straight face and describe the non descript performing seals that are churned out as artistes. In fact it’s just another piece of Orwellian language, it is in the same vein as Columbian drug lords calling their Percy “Product”. No one wants to be called “Product”, its too cynical for most people’s egos to handle. These Brit School and Sylvia Young grads have done far too many hours of voice coaching sessions to think of themselves as merely a commodity to be traded. They want to believe they are serious songwriters and performers and not actually willing to sell their soul to Satan to be in S Club 7.

 

So instead they used terms like “Talent” but that probably sounds too much like the Skin Flick industry now, so they use the word Artistes instead. The sad thing is this has just lead to a generation of talentless narks who actually believe not only are they not the attention whores they really are, but they are somehow modern day renaissance men. Not just eye candy and stage props miming along to a song written for them but somehow part of some creative elite. That’s not to say that there has never been attention whores before but at least they’ve had the good grace to realize that is what they are. Even the most spoiled Diva and Prima Donnas know not too push their luck too far in case the Record companies deem them too troublesome to bother with. Because they are Professionals and know they are only as good as they’re last number of sales.

 

Again, a bit of honesty wouldn’t go a miss here. Calling them artistes and banging on about the integrity of the Artiste being paramount is more smoke and mirrors. What exactly is artistic about this industry? As long as they are selling records and making money they are Artistes, but as soon as figures start to slip then they’re dropped from the label faster than Gary Glitter.

 

 

And it used to be apart from the odd tabloid story about drink and drugs that would be the last you’d heard from them. Not now. Oh no. Because they are artistes they don’t have to rely on one trick ponies like singing anymore no. They’ll have their own brand of perfume, an autobiography, a column in twat mags like Heat, sell the ultrasound scans of their unborn fetuses to Celebrity OK! and now even have their own bloody Chat shows.

Yes that is YOU I’m talking about Charlotte Church. How on earth did she get a third series of her talk show?? What dark, unholy acts did she have to perform to land this gig again?! Charlotte, in the unlikely event of your reading of this: YOU ARE NOT FUNNY. Stop trying to be funny. Please. Stop you’re over zealous use of swear words and talking about how much you drink to appear down to earth and FUNNY. You’re shows is a soulless piece of shit drafted in the darkest pits of comedy mediocrity hell in an attempt to plug more albums and improve the sales of celebrity gossips rags. You don’t see Dylan Moran trying to sing Ava Maria to the pope, then we shouldn’t see you trying to perform stand up. Stick to the pages of Hello with your perma-tanned Himbo husband, you horrible pair of cut price Beckhams (and how bad do you have be to be a Cut price Beckham??)




 

 

 


 

 

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