Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts

Monday, 16 December 2013

TV Cameraman And The X Factor Fandango.

Greeting dear readers, and this week i would like to tell you about my brush with celebrity, the bright lights of a London theatre, streets paved with gold and a very weak, nay, tenuous link to the X Factor.

Rhydian Roberts... Making it on his own.

Having been booked by ITV a few days before, my briefing sheet contained the tantalising words "X Factor' along with 'Finalist' 'London recording studio' and 'Rhydian.' Hang on, i hear you say.... 'Who's Rhydian..?' Come on pop pickers, you remember the X Factor final of 2007 don't you..? Rhydian... platinum blonde hair... opera / show tunes singer extraordinaire... runner up...

So, it turned out that i was not to be sharing champagne cocktails and a sofa with Simon Cowell, nor had i been booked to film the latest in a long, long line of showbiz wannabe warblers at his Bond villain hideaway in the Caribbean whilst having my earlobe gently nibbled by Sinitta,* as she runs her fingers through my hair and... (Ahem, sorry... Did i type that out loud..?)

No... Instead, i was to head to a small unknown recording studio at the stage door entrance to the Palace Theatre, just off a wet and cold Greek Street, London, take a rickety Victorian era lift to the 4th floor, and try not to trip on the loose, frayed carpet. Oh the glamour of it all...

'So, where's all the under dressed, giggling blonde groupies..?' i thought to myself as i imagined a sordid, drug fuelled orgy of rock music inspired debauchery going on in the recording studio. Surely everyone who has ever entered the X Factor gets this treatment for the rest of their lives, courtesy of Mr Cowell's capacious bank accounts..? No..?

No... No they don't.

And anyway, Rhydian has been beavering away with his own management making his 5th studio album of rock opera style tunes with a voice that makes your chest vibrate in it's intensity. It was a real pleasure to see and hear him at work. His days in the bright but all too fleeting hot lights of the X Factor juggernaut are far, far behind him and he now finds himself as one of the very few who have made a career in good music that see thousands of others floundering in the intense pressure of modern manufactured pap... sorry, i mean pop.

Instead of a spotty limp haired youth in the grip of the ever expanding Cowell cack machine, i found myself with an assured 30ish man with the voice, charisma and friendliness of a genuinely good singer with his own niche and the ability to make his mark in the world of music. Not only that, the three hours we spent filming were made easy thanks to his relaxed and friendly manner. Whatever i asked of him, he obliged. I could even say we got along very well.

It may have been a small recording studio in a back street of London rather than a sun drenched exotic beach villa with the lovely Sinitta, but it was a good days filming non the less.

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter.

*The author would like to reassure his Wife that the Sinitta ear nibbling thing was for comedic effect only...


Saturday, 15 June 2013

A Kick In The Balls... Now That's Entertainment.

Good things come to the TV News cameraman who waits. The times when all the standing in the rain on court steps makes it worth it... Swings and roundabouts. just lots of roundabouts and not enough swing if you will.

You all must know me by now. Grumpy, yet oh so loveable and approachable. I know how to say my pleases and thank you's in all the right places. Sometimes I may even crack a smile to disarm even the most shy of camera shy persons.

Sharp suited Muso's... Disappointing.

So you can imagine my excitement when out of the corner of my eye yesterday, whilst filming at the Isle Of Wight music festival, I spotted one of the few musicians that I would actually listen to willingly, and have even bought a number of their albums over the years.

I've been listening to the music of Paul Weller since I was a spotty youth in my mod phase in the early Eighties. He was lead singer of The Jam back then, with drainpipe trousers, sharp jackets, sharper haircuts and thin ties. I aspired to owning a pair of two tone 'Jam' shoes such was my idolatry of this fine band. I mod bopped to Going Underground, The Eton Rifles and desperately wanted to visit A Town Called Malice. He was the man who made me buy a fishtail parka with a target on the back. Boy, did I look like a dick. The Modfather I was not, but the local working man's club disco night dance floors had seen nothing like it...

Armed with my pleases and thank you's and my best disarming smile, we approached the man. He was three feet away. My teenage years flashed before my eyes in a Top of the Pops montage, (without Jimmy Savile) the music a swirl in my head. At last, I get to speak and interact with one of my few idols. Maybe even get a picture with him putting his hand on my shoulder and smiling together... One for the cameraman album.

"Mr Weller... BBC News, any chance of a quick chat on camera about the festival..?"

"Sorry guys, I gotta go..."

And with that, he was gone. He may have split a hair or something. Maybe the bar was calling, or his guitar needed a polish, in any case we got the bums rush and short shrift. My crest had fallen. My bubble was burst and my stiff upper lip de-stiffened. He never even said thanks to me for buying that single all those years ago... How could he do this to me? 95p I spent on that bloody single, you would think he would be more grateful.

They say never meet your idols. They can disappoint, let you down and make you change your view of them. Paul Weller once sang the lyrics...

'Lights going out and a kick in the balls, i say that's entertainment, that's entertainment.' (That's Entertainment, The Jam, 1980.)

It sure is Paul, it sure is. However, he did say sorry before he kicked me in the balls and left my deflated cameraman frame alone in the gutter, sans interview. He's a busy man, I forgive him.

I walk away and consoled myself with a memory of another festival years ago, when my one time teenage crush, Debbie Harry, let me put my hand up her jumper. (I was placing a mic) A warm glow enveloped me, at least she didn't leave me hanging on the telephone... That's a memory I will have forever.

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter.

www.media-attention.co.uk

Wednesday, 29 August 2012

Chillin' Wiv Da Yoof....

We news cameramen are always banging on about the variety of differing filming jobs we get. And it's true, we get to meet and film with the scum of the earth to the highest of society and everything in between. Whilst on the road of doom, we listen to a lot of music and radio.

Last week, i found myself surrounded by musical hipsters, music journo's, bands and groupies backstage at the Reading Festival.

The BBC Reading Festival popular music beat combo reporting dream team.

Any of you younger readers out there would be creaming their pants right about now at the thought of actually being paid real cash money to attend such a gathering. Me..? Water off a ducks back. You see, my interest in music sort of faded away at the mid eighties, when hair was big, leggings were spangly, and makeup was heavy. Back in the day, i could body pop with the best, sweat to the disco beat and crick my neck dancing to Aga-Doo.

We even got to interview one of the hippest, up to date Radio 1 DJ's, Greg James. Tall, handsome and impossibly good looking, destined for the highest of status within the community of today's youth, with their bangin' choons, wicked mixes and chill out anthems. I had to ask my young, hip journo who he was.

So, i hefted my TV camera around the festival with a dignified grace of a man who still listens to The Stranglers, Squeeze, Ian Dury and the Blockheads and possibly a little AC/DC. I mentally blocked out the pumping bass of today's popular music beat combo's from the stage and filmed vox-pops with the drunk, the wasted and the intellectual cream of today's festival going public. All in the name of news. And news it was, as many of the bands appearing on stage were news to me. I've even stopped listening to Radio 2 ( The future home of Greg James when he hits 35+ ) Bloody noise.

I hope the news watching public are grateful for what we put ourselves through, but at the end of a long day, i get into my news truck, wipe the blood from my ears and tootle off home to the soothing sound of some proper music. The Sex Pistols, Sham 69 and The Ramones. That Sheena... she's been a punk rocker for longer than i care to remember. 

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter.

www.media-attention.co.uk