The autumn
of 1989 was very much the setting of the breakdown of Thatcher’s government but
it also co-incided with the release of a soundtrack which defined a generation.
For many, it became the marching song of Labour moving into 10 Downing Street and
a foreshadowment of a greater degree of liberation for many British teenagers.
Of course, I am talking about Barry Manilow’s self-titled debut album. ‘The
Stone Roses’ also released their debut in the same week. The Roses' album has gone
on to become a cultural artefact for the late eighties ever since and a product of this has been them
selling out three nights at Heaton Park twenty four years later. The price for
this tingle of nostalgia was exactly £60.00 with probably an extra £5.00 for ticket
fees and postage. Some would say this is a cheap deal to witness a 'live resurrection' as Brown profoundly described it and hear his dodgy
vocals echo over Prestwich with many of Ardwick’s ‘hooligans on E’ (a quote
from another Manchester band but seems a fitting description of The Roses’s
homecoming). But this diverts to my original question of how much are we willing
to pay for a little tingle of nostalgia? With the release of the ‘Made of Stone’
trailer today and a Finsbury Park date announced for summer, there seems to be
no sign of Ian Brown slowing down in exploiting the market of those looking for
another peek of yesteryear.
This summer
seems to be the turn of ‘The Rolling Stones’ to exploit the UK’s population
with this promise of satisfaction through nostalgia. Last year saw an ‘intimate’
two dates at O2 arena and a documentary broadcast on BBC2 entitled ‘Crossfire
Hurricane’ to remind the audiences of the Rock n Roll machine which they
arguably set into motion. Last Wednesday, it was announced that their turn will
present itself through two nights at Hyde Park with tickets ranging from
£90-£950. In this Hyde Park announcement, there seems to be a strange irony in
that their last appearance nearing forty four years ago at the London woodland cost nothing. But as Jagger
and Richards have got richer, their tickets prices have also increased. The
argument that the high ticket prices are down to greed can be quantified through
Richards’ house during the eighties being none other than the exact same used
for the filming of ‘The Great Gatsby.’ With his millions, Richards is arguably
a British embodiment of Jay Gatsby but instead of holding a green light holds a
riff and a reefer.
This only
leaves the question of how much will people pay for this taste of yesteryear
and how much difference is there between The Stones and Steps reunion? One
arguably revolutionised attitudes to sex, music and youth amongst other things forever,
the other merely a pop group who gained prominence during the nineties. Despite
one making it explicit and the other not, both arguably reunited for the exact
same motivation of economic gain. With Paul McCartney recently being quoted in
Q that if certain members of ‘The Beatles’ were still around, then we’d ‘be
watching’ them perform, it really does leave the question of where will it
stop?
Will a Saturday night at Heaton Park be the setting for Shaggy coming back to sing his classic 'Angel' and Chris De Burgh singing ‘Lady in Red’ for 100 of the Queen’s
silver? Go for it, that’s a double whammy for you nostalgia junkies.
Although, an argument has to be made that some recent reunions could be argued as not being focused on the sole motivation of economic gain. Bowie appeared out of the dark earlier this year with ‘The Next Day’ which many have commented on as being a critical success. Suede’s ‘Bloodsports’ has proven itself as a contender of one of the best albums of early 2013. Whilst ‘Pulp’ charged a reasonable £30 for their gig in Sheffield and played three hours. Okay, the same values as ‘The Roses’ and ‘The Stones’ through being motivated by Jarvis’s need to top up his bank balance and to indulge his ego. But for those who want to remember the first time, £30 isn’t a bad deal for a silver foil and crackpipe of nostalgia.
To conclude, as the gigs become much more expensive and
the music documentaries become much more frequent, these nostalgia junkies are left with the only option of rotting in their own filth of 'Let it Bleed' vinyls and Spike Island tickets.
