It’s official. The make-up of the UK’s singles chart might never be the same again as the dominating genre of ‘pop’ has spread it’s influence over what was once a chart full of diversity ranging from rock ‘n’ roll to dance and back to hip-hop/rap. And the problem doesn’t end there; pop isn’t what it used to be. Dance DJs and rappers are now struggling to pull themselves away from the encroachment of pop music and have become immersed in a world of auto-tuned, catchy lyrics and dull, lifeless beats.

This might seem a rather pessimistic view but the evidence is clear. The latest Official UK Top 40 Chart (from 27 Feb 2011) contained only 8 ‘non-pop’ songs meaning that the chart was dominated by only one genre: pop, making up a staggering 80% of the chart.

Fearne Cotton and Reggie Yates present a weekly show listing the UK music chart on Radio 1

However, what is ‘pop music’? The term is originally derived from the phrase ‘popular music’ which was first used in the 1920s. But the term ‘pop music’ came into the public’s perspective during the late 1950s with the introduction of The Beatles (the acclaimed ‘Kings of Pop’) onto the national music scene where it was used to distinguish between classical and non-classical music. This has since developed further to differ between the modern genres we listen to today.

The concern is that musical progress might begin to undo itself and move backwards as one genre starts to control the musical landscape (like classical music did up until the late 1800s). Have a look at any official chart and you’ll see that there is a stark lack of  variety in the genres on show.

So is the future bleak for the other competing genres? In a short answer – yes. If the current movers and shakers of the music industry have their way and retain their iron grip on the charts, the hope of other alternative acts breaking through is minimal.

I know many people will talk about Simon Cowell in an article like this but one should have a lot of the respect in the way he has taken his chances and possibly revolutionised the music charts forever. The appeal and influence of The X Factor is phenomenal and 2010 conveyed how far the TV show has progressed since its birth in 2005 with JLS, Alexandra Burke, Diana Vickers, Olly Murs, Joe McElderry, Matt Cardle and Cheryl Cole all having number one hits.

That brings me onto the question of whether the public is being spoon-fed by music moguls  and producers or whether the songs we listen to are in fact ‘popular music’? Or should I say: where does the money lie?

After a fantastic feat of winning both British Breakthrough Act and Best Single (Pass Out) at this years Brit Awards, Tinie Tempah looks set for even bigger things. But has he always sung in such a style? This song was recorded in early 2005.

It’s the perfect example of how a young grime artist wasn’t getting the success he craved. Changing his style and image has turned him into one of the most sought-after ‘pop stars’ in the UK and who can blame him? His pop career has brought him fame and success which he could have only dreamed of when the above song was recorded. However, I’m sure he would have preferred his legacy to have been formed on his grime roots instead. But the case studies don’t stop there. Even the likes of Eminem and Snopp Dogg have collaborated with Rihanna and Katy Perry in an attempt to produce more number ones.

Tinie Tempah back in his MC days

So, what would be your answer if I asked you: When was the last time a rock song successfully topped the Official UK Singles Chart – (I warn you, it’s a difficult question)?

If you guessed that it was 14th September 2008 when the Kings of Leon went to number one with Sex On Fire… Then you’d be correct. An incredible 82 different singles have ‘graced’ the top of the charts since and pop doesn’t look like slowing up yet.

However, the one exception was Christmas 2009 when a Facebook campaign effectively managed to alter the charts by sending Killing In the Name by Rage Against the Machine to the top of the charts. The lyrics included in the song: ‘F**k you, I won’t do what you tell me’, seem to have more and more relevance as our radio stations continue churn out the same ‘pop’ drivel across the airwaves.

But is there really anyway we, the British public, can flee from this ‘pop’ monster? In a way I feel like the last of a generation where bands such as Oasis, Blur and U2 used to be leading the way. Younger teenagers are increasingly being brought up to listen to contemporary artists who come and go without leaving much impact or a proper legacy. The rise of music on television and an ever expanding celebrity culture show little promise of a change in this trend and it seems that the likes of Chipmunk, Ke$ha and the Glee Cast will continue to be the norm.

What’s your opinion on the UK’ top 40? Even if you’re a pop fan or not, please leave your comments below.

By Hugh Wolton

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Here’s food for thought: is slaughtering conscious animals ethically correct? It seems that it does not matter what one’s stance on this is – we are purchasing and consuming halal products unknowingly. This week, it was revealed that major supermarkets and fast-food restaurants serve unsuspecting customers halal meat, removing the choice away from the customer by not even informing them of the process in which their meat has been prepared. Halal is also served in the public sector, both in schools and hospitals.

Halal meat is traditionally prepared in a questionable manner. The animals are conscious, whereas non-halal meat is stunned beforehand so that the animal cannot experience pain – the stun acts as an anaesthetic. The animal which is going to be halal meat then has its throat slit and bleeds to death whilst an Islamic prayer is chanted over it, thus blessing the meat and qualifying the Shariah law specification.

Having a say over what we consume is essential, especially as many religious believers may find that eating halal conflicts with their religious beliefs. For example, Sikhs can eat meat, but halal contradicts their belief in non-violence. A Hindu who eats halal may also experience bad karma as a result for the animal has been killed inhumanely and with unnecessary suffering. Whilst Christianity does not regard animals as being equal to human beings, many Christians state that they would find it offensive to eat such products.

Personally, I believe that not telling customers what their meals are comprised of is wrong. We deserve the choice to eat whatever we wish. Of course, no one is saying that we should take away Muslims’ rights to be able to eat meat that doesn’t conflict with their views, but it shouldn’t enter mainstream supermarkets and restaurants. Why can’t we rewind back to when halal meat was available from a halal butcher? Many members of the public have stated that they feel ‘violated’ for not being informed that they were consuming halal. Removing all religious influence away from this ethical dilemma, is it not wrong to let an animal bleed to death when there is a painless alternative? Eating meat itself is ethically problematic and controversial, but if one must consume it, surely it should be done in a dignified manner which respects that the animal is a living being? The Mail on Sunday interviewed a halal slaughter-man to get his opinion on the matter. Shockingly, he revealed that he ‘wanted to be a killer’. Does this not reveal unnecessary force and violence, which could easily be prevented?

The problem lies with the fact that majority of the public feel as though they have been cheated and deceived. They feel as though their rights have been stripped from them because they do not have the choice to decline to eat halal.

Fast-food outlets which have been supplying customers with halal are as follows:

• Domino’s Pizza: majority of their chicken is halal and has been for the past decade.
• Pizza Hut: only some of their chicken is halal due to its foreign sourcing.
• KFC: chicken sourced from abroad is halal and they have some shops which are clearly marked as halal-only.
• Nando’s: only some of their chicken is halal, although they have halal-only restaurants.
• Subway: although a small percentage of their chicken is halal but it is not stunned before being killed.
• McDonald’s and Burger King do not supply any halal.

Supermarkets which have been supplying customers with halal are as follows:

• Tesco: a small percentage of their chicken is halal, as is all of their New Zealand lamb and a high percentage of their British lamb. They have their own labelled halal range too.
• Waitrose: all their lamb is halal but no other meat is.
• M&S: all their New Zealand lamb is halal but no other meat is.
• Sainsbury’s: all their lamb is halal and they have their own labelled halal range.

By withholding information about how our meat is slaughtered, are we not entering some state of a dictatorship? Freedom of choice is removed. What next? Is it right to put the needs of the minority over that of the majority?

For those of you living in caves off beans and your own urine for the past six months or so, a new musical craze has swept out quaint little island. Dubstep. This strange genre consists of a loud, wobbly bass line and reverberant drum patterns listened to loudly in a basement, and proclaimed as ‘dirtier than finding a fetid rat’s backside in your baby’s cot’.
Well, it’s hard to see why decomposing rats can be seen as appealing. So I suppose this is an accurate description of dubstep. It has been proclaimed as the new, fresh and innovative thing in electronic dance, incorporating fresh tempos (apparently the same bpm as a heart in exercise, or, in this case, on speed), bass drops and break beats. However, I think if my heart sounded like that when I exercised, I’d probably call a doctor, and besides, the bass line sounds like Brian Blessed riding a bicycle without tyres on a gravel path.
Don’t get me wrong, it is all good when in the sweaty basement, moshing between the crack addict and the posh public school prat, but one thing I can’t stand is people listening to it in their rooms and in the park, when completely sober and usually fairly passive to the drop. It is like tucking up in bed with a pint of espresso: I fail to see how it will benefit the mood you seemingly want to create.
This is when you know a craze has gone too far: it can be found anywhere, no matter the situation and time. It reminds me when I got told off for trading Pokémon cards in church, age 6 or 7. Anyway, it invades lives too much – just like the old witch behind me in church felt offended at this shattering of religious atmosphere, I felt assaulted by the sound of a bassy wobble when I’m casually sitting in the park, reciting Alfred Tennyson or something like that.
My point is not that dubstep is bad. My point is that, like everything, it should be deployed where it corresponds well with the rest of the environment.

grrr-imey

Mehta hopes products such as "Gunpowder tea" will help the company rise from the ashes

The world seems to think far too highly of the British people. Most hotels abroad have only two tv channels in English, BBC World News and CNN. Someone should tell them we’re not all dodgy businessmen. However, the same gangster-types would have been as exited as a boffin with an Oxford place to see the piece shown on the recently opened East India Company store on Conduit Street in London. Sanjiv Mehta, a Mumbai-born entrepreneur, bought the Intellectual property rights of the long-dormant  company in 2005, and has since then invested an estimated £20 million developing the brand for its future as a luxury goods store.

The store itself, which opened on August 13, is not as glaringly obvious at first, unlike many other shops in the area. The front is simple, dark and elegant. This seems to be the general theme of the store; apart from the actual products, the layout is spotlessly attractive. An espresso machine quietly hums in the background, as guests to the store are offered a free sample of what the board hopes will be their trademark goods. When I visited the store last Tuesday, a highly attentive and knowledgeable sales assistant offered to give our party a grand tour of the 20x20m room. This is a testimony to the cliche that size doesn’t matter. Every product seemed to have a story behind it. For example; the East India Company holds the patent for the original digestive biscuit recipe.

At the centre of the store there is a marble counter displaying small samples of their most popular goods, one of which is the infamous salty chocolate…bar. However, as this is £5.00 a slab and tastes of, basically, salt and chocolate, this is not something you want to nurse a messy and well-publicised divorce on. Most products are equally grand and expensive, with a jar of “chocolate sugar” costing £8.00 and “Orange and gold leaf” being among the marmalades. We were told by the assistant that a new store may open in Scotland due to the huge connections between Scotland and the East India Trading Company; “at one time, 30% of Scottish people were working for the East India Trading Co.”

I myself wasn’t entirely convinced by bits of pepper in my dark chocolate, but seeing the girlish grins of the burly London lawyers shopping in their long lunch makes me think this is a brand that will last.

And I’m okay with it.

It was shock revelation after shock revelation for me upon arriving back at school this September. Being a big film fan, I was keen to chat over the summer’s releases with friends, as you do. Everyone thought Inception was brilliant, The A Team was rubbish and The Expendables was hilariously gory. No surprises there… but it was my second favourite film of the summer that caused all the controversy at my school.

The first shock came that half of my friends hadn’t seen Toy Story 3, despite us all being 16, the target age for the films as a trilogy – we were babies for the first one, and many of us grew up with Woody and Buzz. We were 5 or 6 as the second one hit the cinema, ripe for being blown away by new characters like Zurg and Jessie. And as the last one comes to give its golden generation a last goodbye, it’s greeted by this, the most often heard analysis; ‘Of course I didn’t see Toy Story 3. That’s gay.’ Sigh. The second shock revelation was this – lots of people I know who did watch it said they weren’t moved by either the – avoiding spoilers here – sad scene towards the end when it looks like they’re all toast, or the even sadder scene at the very end. Sure, it was quite a while between Toy Story 2 and Toy Story 3, but at what point during those 11 years did everyone my age die inside? Maybe they did leave it a bit long to get us while we were still little, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t an epic worth shedding a tear over. There’s no excuse for it either – in fact the only thing that saved me from completely freaking out was talking to a new guy at my school – a hard as nails rugby player who was also happy to admit he was close to welling up as Andy said farewell to the gang (woops).

So, I’ve lost faith in my generation.  So when Shrek 14 comes out I wanna see some 40 year olds crying, or I’ll get really cross…

Another Orange Wednesday has been and gone, and with it another film. I’d been wanting to see Wild Target for some time now and it didn’t disappoint.

Grint in Action

As with everything it seems nowadays, it’s your run of the mill comedy, incorporating a bit of a love story, which I won’t spoil, a few comic deaths and a side helping of Rupert Grint. As a remake of a French farce, it’s clear that although the comedy has been adapted, it’s over the top, and never riotously funny perhaps as a cause. The film raises quite a few squeals of delight however, particularly if you’re a fan of Bill Nighy or Emily Blunt.

If not though, you might find the film lacking as the humour is at times overworked, the plot overstretched and the characters too strained. There is little character development in this story but then as a comedy that seems unnecessary.

Rupert Grint’s first truly non-Potter film goes off with aplomb, and it’s easy to separate him from the affable ginger we’ve become accustomed to. He’s only one of a whole list of crazy characters whom it’s easy to fall in love with.

At the end of the day, whilst the plot is hilarious, and I’ll never tire of seeing Emily Blunt walking through London (watch it to understand why!), it’s not quite anything more than a standard comedy.

VERDICT : Rent

The Golden Filter are like a million genres on acid. Every single song seems to belong to a different style of music, every video seems even madder, and every-time the singer’s voice seems to change.

At first, it occurs to me that this isn’t music. I’m too used to filthy pop songs blaring out of tired speakers, telling me all the ways to fall in love again, and all the dangers. But then, this is none of these.

This is a rebirth, the beginning and the end summarised.

Some of the tracks, including ‘Solid Gold’ are reminiscent of Simian Mobile Disco, with an infectious beat that’s sure to confuse dancers everywhere.

Others hit the spot between the past and the present, combining old ideas into a new form, as if to create a future. ‘Voluspa’, the title song on their album is the best example of this. I’ve long searched for meaning in songs, and here my patience is rewarded. A whispering voice interchanges with a repeated base line, dying and fading, representing the combination of the beginning and the end. The song seems perfect for a horror movie, and each low vuvuzela-like moan seems akin to a wolf or creature of the night, and the atmospheric power, which it gains, is worth dying for in a world where the music industry is desperately searching for something new.

Every little note is perfect. The lyrics are almost irrelevant. All of the emotion, all of the power, is in the music they’ve created, and the voices change nothing. These songs have all the power of the ballads of the eighties, the opera’s of the 18^th century, and the rhythmic drumming of tribal music, but are instead something different. ‘Memorial Day’ has an instant emotional draw that you can’t help but love!

VERDICT : BUY

Tour Dates, courtesy of Brille Records :

UK & EUROPEAN SUMMER 2010
LIVE PERFORMANCES

3 Jul - Flash Cocotte – Paris
9 Jul - Pohoda Festival – Slovakia
11 Jul - Oxygen Festival – Dublin
16 Jul - Arvika Festival – Sweden
17 Jul - Slottsfjell Festival – Oslo
22 Jul - Dog Day Disco at Paradiso – Amsterdam
23 Jul - Razzamatazz - Barcelona
24 Jul – Secret Garden Party – UK
31 Jul – Field Day Festival – London
31 Jul - Field Day After party DJ Set – London

On the 27^th of June 2010 at the Anvil in Basingstoke, I witnessed the genius of two of the greatest composers to have lived, Prokofiev and Tchaikovsky. Samples of their most renowned symphonies were conducted by Yuri Temirkanov, a man of great talent and passion, who regularly takes part in international tours and recordings. An orchestral performance is not the type of concert I am used to going to, but it was definitely an exhilarating experience.

As I sat down I was slightly disappointed when I could not see a piano amongst the many other instruments already set out on the stage. (I am doing grade 5 level piano and am soon to be taking my exam. I was hoping for some inspiration at the concert to keep me keen on practising.) However the disappointment disappeared the moment the orchestra began to play, and I was transfixed by the music. The tranquil notes of a harp reverberated, and overlaid came the eerie beauty of several base Cellos in harmony. Then this beauty was transfigured once more by the contrasting notes of different instruments. The atmosphere was rather a strange one because even the movement of a seat was so loud you feared you might have put off the musicians. But even though I thought that this performance was of such a high standard, better was sure to follow.

Sayaka Shoji, the skill of whom no words can describe, walked calmly onto the stage dressed in a stunning blue dress and took her place next to the conductor. Instantly, I was gripped. Note after note sizzled on, with her heart behind every bar, her hand ready as if to settle on its final string every moment. And I was buzzing. The violin had disappeared, the pizzicato so stimulating that the audience was there with her every heartbeat. Not only was she the best musician I have ever heard, but she even performed the whole symphony from memory, focused so closely on the conductor that the score need not have been there. What a memory she must have to remember a twenty six minute long piece note perfect! One more tiny detail which helped with the awe of her performance was the fact that she was playing on a 1729 “Recamier” Stradivarius loaned to her by Dr Ryuzo Ueno.  Shoji was playing on a violin that was almost three hundred years old, an honour afforded to only the greatest musicians.

I think I was possibly one of the youngest people there, but that didn’t bother me though because I understood the music and I was engrossed by it most of the time. But for those split seconds where my mind began to wander I was imagining what it would be like to compose such music, what the artist must have been thinking in the heat of composition and the potential stories behind the symphonies. I highly recommend that anyone who is interested in any genre of music should go along, because classical music always offers the guarantee of educational value or the sheer pleasure of it. A thoroughly enjoyable night.

By Paige Izquierdo

BREAKING NEWS: News broken, suspects called in for questioning

As we all know, this is a site for the lovely people who are aspiring writers and big cheeses in the media industry. I myself want to be a journalist, with my brilliantly vague idea that I’ll go to Cambridge and they’ll be dead impressed and I’ll end up a human rights reporter uncovering massive political scandals (or something). I’m sure most of you have actually thought your plans through a bit more, but here are some things I have uncovered about trying to break into the buisness;

In May 2010, Ed Caesar wrote in the Sunday Times Magazine about the difficulties of getting into this astonishing buisness. According to Caesar, 1,200 people applied for just one reporters position on the Sunday Times website. I think we can all agree that that is slightly terrifying, but luckily he does give us a few pointers on how to get a better chance; “Today, you’ll need luck, flair, an alternative source of income, endless patience, an optimistic disposition, sharp elbows and a place to stay in London.” This may be the reason that so many journalists come from more affluent backgrounds. It has absolutely nothing to do with snobbery (the whole point of free speech and writing is to promote the opposite), but there is little need for the big national papers to allow for those with low income. You will be expected and should rejoice at the chance to work for nothing, so parents can come in handy. However, it doesn’t have to be this way. There are many notable journalists who struggled on their own and made it big. Take a look at that young-journalist class of 2008. Of the seven finalists, only Jerome Taylor went to private school, and he was equally skint. All the finalists worked to the bone to get into the “charmed circle”. The only problem is getting there.

Journos today are recommending that our best chance is to get a postgraduate diploma in Journalism, with any luck at City Univerity or Cardiff. I recently heard an anonymous tip-off that Welsh universities are positively discriminating towards English citizens, so those of you born in England might have a chance.

The main thing you need to remember though, is tenacity. There are thousands of you in the same position and want it as much or maybe more. Some of you will be willing to sell your dog to the Koreans for the honour of having your perception nationally recognised. Therefore, as Nicholas Tomalin says, you need “A knack with telephones, trains and petty officials; a good digestion and a steady head; total recall; enough idealism to inspire indignant prose (but not enough to inhibit detached professionalism); and a paranoid temperament.”

Good luck everyone!

P.S. Ed Caesar if you’re reading this, I don’t suppose you have any work experience going…?

The film is like absinthe. Absinthe is this film.

“A sweating little drunk idiot covered in puke” takes the major role as Aaron Green, a young record company intern. Played by Jonah Hill, who previously starred in ‘Forgetting Sarah Marshall’ with Russell Brand, we see a minimal amount of character development in a film that could only ever please a teenager.

It simply lacks everything else necessary to be of interest to anyone else. At times, the film is hilarious, and I laughed uncontrollably. However the film as a matter of course is too focused on that teenage market, with constant swearing and semi-nudity, to be a hit with anyone else. Despite Russell Brand’s hilarious character, and the intelligence he displays, the audience finds itself rather disconcerted by the end, as it lacks the sense to know when enough is enough.

There are as always messages. It’s one of the deplorable things about cinema today. From every single film we must take away some universal truth, invariably about love. Unfortunately it just doesn’t seem appropriate from this film, where the universal theme seems rather to be a treatise on the failings of humanity, but it ends up tying it together neatly with a poky love story.

Most of what happens in this film is completely ridiculous, completely unbelievable, and therein lie its charms. Amazingly Russell Brand actually sings his own songs as part of the group Infant Sorrow, and it seems as if one of the many spoofs on youtube has finally got a movie debut! This seems like a film for the digital age, it seems new and fresh, and it seems like the smile on the man with the unhappy face. If you’re 15-28 you’ll love it, male or female, but there’s just a bitter taste that won’t go away.

VERDICT : RENT