I write this as I finally admit defeat, having spent – I’ve lost count of how many hours – trying to secure tickets for the big Oasis reunion tour. Half a day was spent queueing up for the opportunity to join the actual queue, and any progress made once reaching the front of it was frustratingly fleeting. It’s been a whistle-stop tour of Ticketmaster’s various error screens, from being suspended as a bot and having the whole site crash under the weight of overwhelming demand, to having to queue up all over again only to find prices had doubled for the few remaining tickets. At least something happened on Ticketmaster I suppose; that’s more than can be said for See Tickets and Gigs And Tours, whose sites didn’t even attempt to sell any actual tickets. I’m far from the only one left empty handed. It seems like half the country spent their day chasing tickets which proved to be rare as hen’s teeth. Yet at this moment the disappointment of missing out feels dwarfed by my frustration at the appalling rigmarole of Ticketmaster’s shambolic sale. Continue reading
For years I had the same routine every Saturday. I would head into town for a spot of lunch, look around HMV and the record stalls in the market, buy the latest copy of NME and chill for an hour or so in my favourite cafe. Over the course of a very large pot of loose leaf tea I would read every last article and feature. That seems like an age ago now. Pardon the nostalgia, but with the announcement that Britain’s most iconic music publication will cease printing by the end of the week after 66 years in circulation, I’d rather remember it as it used to be rather than what it became. 
Jack White’s latest tour has been making headlines with it’s no phone policy in order to promote a more “human” experience. This is nothing new, as his previous tours included a message asking fans to put their phones away and rely on the professional pics from the tour photographer to satisfy their social media needs. The difference this time around is the fact that a humble request has escalated to actually enforcing a venue-wide ban, which has been seen as a very heavy-handed move and prompted others to question the problem surrounding the use of mobile phones at gigs. 
If current music musings on social media are any indication, the “sound of 2018” will be that of petty squabbling and pretentious ramblings. As the year draws to a close and the industry slowly shuts down ready to hibernate over Christmas, there comes the customary last hurrah of end-of-year lists and ones-to-watch for the year ahead. There’s always an element of one-upmanship in these proceedings every year, but this year in particular has been notable for the amount of unnecessary vitriol being thrown around. I’m hoping this year will be the straw that broke the camel’s back, rather than a sign of further pointless bickering to come. 
In a shock result London grime MC Skepta has won this year’s Mercury Music Prize for his album Konnichiwa. The rapper has unfortunately beaten bookies (and public) favourite Blackstar by the late David Bowie. The final shortlist also included deserving finalists: Laura Mvula’s The Dreaming Room, Michael Kiwanuka’s Love & Hate and A Moon Shaped Pool by Radiohead, who are still yet to win despite being the most nominated act in the prize’s history. Despite thoroughly disagreeing with the final result we can take solace in the fact that this year’s shortlist contained a varied and plentiful wealth of British talent… and y’know, at least it didn’t go to The 1975!
Belwood Music 