Madonna's world tour kicked off in Cardiff last Saturday night and was, by all accounts, a stunning success. This won't have come as a surprise to long-term Madge-watchers who know she's turned out consistently spectacular live shows for the best part of 25 years.

In fact, thinking about it, U2 are probably her only serious rivals in this respect.

However, I think the much-reported segment where images of US Presidential candidate John McCain were flashed up alongside those of Adolf Hitler and Robert Mugabe, while his Democratic rival Barack Obama enjoyed screen time with John Lennon, Martin Luther King, and Mahatma Ghandi, was stupid and a bit desperate.

Being no stranger to controversy doesn't mean you should seek it out for its own sake. McCain may be a lot of things but nobody seriously believes he belongs in the company of genocidal dictators.

Ultimately though, I couldn't give a monkey's about his feelings or indeed whether Madonna is losing her judgment. What bothers me is that her cheap little stunt will only reinforce the prejudice around Obama, not McCain.

The McCain campaign had already run an attack ad portraying Obama as a lightweight celebrity in the same league as Paris Hilton and Britney Spears. It clearly hit a nerve because momentum has been in McCain's favour ever since.

Even my own mother, who is about as political an animal as your average gerbil, commented recently that perhaps we'd be better off with him in the White House. Clearly the Daily Mail has been doing the McCain campaign's work for them in this country.

Anyway, getting back to the point, by making such a crude political statement, Madonna has painted the worst possible picture of the average Obama supporter. It plays squarely into the hands of those keen to portray them and by extension him as hysterical, irresponsible, and dangerous.

In fact, McCain's people were quick to pick up on exactly this. They released a statement in response saying: "It clearly shows that when it comes to supporting Barack Obama, his fellow worldwide celebrities refuse to consider any smear or attack off limits".

Note the almost subliminal reinforcement of the phrase "his fellow worldwide celebrities". Nice one, Madge.

Then again, with her many millions in the bank, perhaps Madonna is a natural Republican, in which case "nice one, Madge" but without the irony.

PS. On a totally different note, I missed the Jimmy Page / Leona Lewis collaboration I mentioned in my previous blog entry. I had assumed it would be easy to find online somewhere but it actually proved something of a challenge. In the end I found this link - http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?wa41jrlyd1y

I'd read some pretty negative stuff about it but I thought it was really good. Best of all for me was Page's guitar playing. He fluffed the solo a bit at the o2 gig but he was spot on here. Not bad for a 64 year-old.

When I interviewed Leona Lewis around this time last year I asked her about a rumour that she was going to record a duet with Whitney Houston.

It turned out not to be true - most likely the product of some melisma aficionado's wishful thinking.

Fans of multi-octave gymnastic singing got a boost yesterday though when it was announced that she has teamed up with Mariah Carey (and a number of other stars) to record a charity single.

To be honest, I couldn't care less.

Far more interesting to me, however, is the news that she's going to sing Whole Lotta Love with Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page at the Olympics closing ceremony on Sunday.

Although I'm a little concerned how the famously chaste Leona is going to handle the lyrical innuendo, or indeed the orgasmic middle section before Page's solo kicks in, I think it's an inspired pairing.

They certainly induce a greater sense of national pride in me than Boris Johnson who will close proceedings when he's handed the Olympic host flag by the chairman of the International Olympic Committee.

Also, given Page's surprise appearance on stage with Foo Fighters in June, I can't help wondering if it isn't part of an ongoing effort to make Robert "I've got my own career" Plant jealous enough to sign up to a Zeppelin tour.

Proud as I am of our recent sporting achievements, I'd happily swap every British Olympic medal for that to happen.

According to a recent NME news story, the youth wing of the Pan-Malaysian Islamic Party (which sounds like a right laugh) have expressed their concern about Avril Lavigne's scheduled performance in Kuala Lumpur on August 29.

A party official told the Associated Press, "It is considered too sexy for us... it's not good for viewers in Malaysia. We don't want our people, our teenagers, influenced by their performance. We want clean artists, artists that are good role models." 

I think they're worrying unnecessarily. I had the dubious pleasure of interviewing Ms Lavigne 18 months ago and it was one of the least erotic experiences of my life.

My God, talk about a miserable, humourless cow. In common with many males of the species, I had long struggled with the idea of beauty being only skin deep.

Yeah, yeah, all very worthy, I used to think, but when someone is hot, they are just hot. Avril managed to disabuse me of this notion over the course of 20 soul-destroying minutes.

Mind you, I got off lightly compared to Pop World presenter Alex Zane, whose interview from around the same time is the stuff of legend.

My advice to the Pan-Malaysian Islamic party would be to let her play. In fact, offer her a residency like Elvis had in Las Vegas in the 1970s.

Because you will never find a better example of the vacuity and joylessness of modern Western culture than Avril Lavigne.

It's been a while since I collated your feedback and there's no time like the present.

It seems the Stevie Wonder on Sesame Street clip was very popular. Lots of nice comments including this:

"I love that Steve Wonder Video! Everytime I watch it, that kid just cracks me up...(In my opinion it must be girl...) A classic song by a genius."

Quite so.

Some of the recent Madonna features provoked a reaction too. First up was this about the 12 Moments That Made Madonna piece:

"Your articles are always factually incorrect, for instance i have just read one on madonna and her greatest momements and have only got through three articles and alll have contained factually incorrect info, Parkour (sp) is in her jumlp video not hungup...and there are misquotes from people...seriously do the people writing these articles not have google?"

Yes, I have Google (but I prefer Windows Live Search, naturally). I did a quick search on this and found this on Wikipedia:

"Madonna featured free running extensively in the Jump music video.[32] Madonna also featured free running on her world tour in 2006 The Confessions Tour as well as featuring it initially in her music video for Hung Up. All the free running sequences for Madonna were created and executed by Sebastian Foucan, Mike 'Frosti' Zernow, Levi 'Skynative' Meeuwenberg and others.[3][33]"  

So parkour is actually featured in both. Terribly sorry to disappoint you there.

The other Madonna email I got referred to the quiz:

"Your Madonna Quiz, The Austin Powers Film was the Spy who shagged me. This was the second Austin Powers Film"

Absolutely right there. I hold my hands up to this one. Thanks for pointing it out, it has now been corrected.

Just as a final thought, isn't it strange how the people who are actually correct are so much more polite than the people who think they are? There's a thesis there, I am sure.

I've been working in this internet business for almost 10 years now and one of the more irritating buzz phrases I've been aware of since the beginning is 'viral marketing'.

Basically, it refers to businesses trying to exploit for commercial gain the online phenomenon of people forwarding amusing links to their friends.

It rarely works though because the public is generally a lot more savvy than marketing people give them credit for. They know when they are being sold to and they resent it when it's done by stealth.

However, here are two exceptions I came across recently which I thought I would share. 

The first is for Poll The People, a brilliant new site which caters to geeks like myself who love nothing more than reading lists of people's favourite albums, films, and books.

The viral piece is a very funny clip of dogs dressed up as various celebrities including Madonna, Amy Winehouse, and Kanye West (the pooch in the picture).

The other makes the cut for the perverse genius of having nothing whatsoever to do with the internet. It's a CD of songs by a band called The Race which arrived on my desk by what used to be called 'snail mail'.

It's not bad either.

All they ask is that the recipient has a listen and, as is made quite clear by the wording on the front of the envelope, pass it on.

You've got to love such blatant disregard for what everyone else is doing. That's rock and roll, that is.

So, who wants it next? I will PASS IT ON to the first person to drop me a line.

* I've only ever been to one proper illegal rave in my life and that was a Spiral Tribe party at a disused warehouse in Uxbridge in the April of 1993 - hence the rather convoluted pun

As you probably already know, the music industry is slap bang in the middle of a transitional phase. Not before time, it has woken up to the fact that illegal downloading can't be policed effectively and that it's going to have to come up with an alternative business model before the situation becomes unsalvageable . 

There is no better illustration of the industry's new-found, if somewhat reluctant, willingness to embrace the internet than the release strategy for Metallica's new album, Death Magnetic, due out on September 12.

Metallica, lest we forget, took the fight against downloading directly to their own fans back in 2000 when they presented original file-sharing service Napster with a list of 335,435 users they wanted banned for downloading their music.

It was an incredibly vindictive and small-minded move which lost Metallica more than a few friends. In time it would come to be emblematic of the wider industry's Canute-like obstinacy against the tide of the digital revolution.

In the eight years since, much has happened. Prince gave away his most recent CD with the Mail On Sunday as a means to promote his tour, while Radiohead proved you can give away an album digitally and still shift impressive numbers of physical units, particularly if you offer a variety of lovingly rendered packaging options.

While not quite able to bring themselves to go down the free route, it seems Lars and co have been taking notes because Death Magnetic is available to buy from the band's website both as a DRM-free digital version (£8.99) and in a number of different physical editions ranging from a bog standard CD (£10) up to an extras-packed box-set (£75).

More interestingly still is the opportunity to upgrade to Mission Metallica Platinum. The standard Mission Metallica is a free web-based fan resource which offers fly-on-the-wall footage of the album being recorded, competitions, and access to rare material from the band's vault ("sometimes it’s cool to get historical").

Upgrading costs £10 and gives users access to even juicier content including live show downloads, a discount on official merchandise, and entry into a meet-and-greet competition.

I've a feeling this premium membership model could end up being very popular. Whether you like it or not (and Metallica clearly don't), charging for music itself  can't continue for too much longer. There is a whole generation for whom the expectation is that music is free. That's not the sort of trend you can reverse.

But a tenner for a wealth of exclusive material seems like good value to the fan. And as a record company boss pointed out to me recently, ten quid a year per fan is as much as they could ever have hoped to make by selling records.

Clever, eh?

The Big Chill Festival
Day Three - Sunday, 3rd August 2008

Guest blogger: Katie Spain

My head hurts. My feet hurt. My eyes don’t feel like they belong to me anymore. I forgot to take my contact lenses out last night too so my peepers feel like cling film-wrapped pickled oysters. Don’t even mention my liver; it takes ‘pickled’ to a whole new dimension.

Despite the night’s events, I’m still smiling and so too, are The Big Chill punters. I have a confession to make; I didn’t make it back to the tent before daylight hit. The sunrise events have a full-page spread in the festival booklet  and after a bout of dancing, friend-making and backstage exploring (it all happens in the staff area baby) my companions and I did our best to avoid sleep for as long as possible. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, as the weary rubbish collectors sweep through the grounds like bright yellow zombies, I can’t help but share their pain. A cheeky security guard greets me as I drag my sorry derrière towards our tent. “Good morning darlin’. Or is it bed time for you?”

Fun was had though; lots of it. The weekend‘s music ranges from Electro, World, Gypsy beats to Roots and Blues. You’re as likely to stumble upon an impromptu bongo drum jam session as you are a hillside discussion about astrology. The kids however, are the real winners at this festival. It is little person heaven and the blighters are already diving head first into Sunday. They frolic through the family camping area; trousers off and faces covered in paint (or is that breakfast?). Back in rural Australia, freedom like this is common-place. Here in England, it’s a treat they grasp with grubby little hands and flexed vocal chords. The press people don’t look much better; according to the security guard, there was one hell of party backstage last night.

After collecting my bedraggled colleague and wet-wiping the Saturday night grime from our aching bodies, we hide behind some big sunglasses and head out for round three. Rain threatens as the first acts of the day kick off at noon. The afternoon includes Kaylan, Norman Jay, Sounds Familiar Music Quiz, Reggae Roast, Asian Dub Foundation Sound System, Orchestra Baoab, Buzzcocks and the gifted New Zealand bred Jazz masters ‘Aronas’. We bail on the festival before French nutter Camille and the much anticipated Leonard Cohen hit the stage. As much as we’d love to party with Mixmaster Morris until 4am, there’s a day job to be done in London and a tent to pack up. Last time we enlisted the help of a gallant strapping lad; today we’re flying solo and it could damn well take a week. Putting camping gear back in the bag is like pushing a watermelon through a keyhole.

Over the whole weekend, there hasn’t been an act that has blown our minds to pieces. In fact, there was no-one we’ve been dead-set on seeing. It’s made for an extremely chilled out experience (mind the pun, it had to happen). I won’t head back to reality raving about the gob-smacking sets, line-up or sound quality, but I will sing the praises of a well organised and safe family festival. The weather behaved itself, the staff members were helpful and fun was had by all. We’ve made friends, discovered new music and switched off from the daily grind. After all, that’s the crux of a great festival.

My final thoughts go out to the highly strung traffic warden at Gate E. The expletives fired off his tongue on day one made my insides blush. By the time we exit on day three, he’s asking someone to “Give me some napalm so I can blow up the whole ******* campsite”. It seems sleep deprivation and wayward drivers have a lot to answer for. Thank the festival Lord above we experienced the event on the right side of the fence. It’s the unsung heroes that make The Big Chill Festival the smooth, enjoyable ride we see before us. Do a traffic warden a favour and flash him a toothy smile on your way out; he won’t return the favour but you might just make his day.

Buy or sell festival tickets.

The Big Chill Festival
Day Two - Saturday 2nd August 2008

Guest Blogger: Katie Spain

Note to self: staying in a hotel is all very well and good but when you’re in rural England, there’s no such thing as ’24-hour taxi services’. Just as the rest of the punters began letting their dreadlocks down, we had to rip ourselves away for a 1am date with a taxi driver. Not only did we get locked out of the hotel, we also scared the poor sod of a driver with our vocal reminiscing about the day one that was.

At least we kicked off Saturday smelling like roses. By the time we put the tent up and downed a falafel, the day was in full swing. We managed to catch the tail end of Lykke Li’s set on the Castle Stage and wished we'd rushed down earlier. There’s a good reason why this Swede is such hot property at the moment; her tunes are as catchy as the ebola virus. This is what Saturdays were meant to be about – frolicking in the sun. The casualties were out in force today; obviously the masses partied on well into Friday night. Earlier, a local farmer told us that he heard music well into the night. The poor sod looked exhausted.

An attempt to see Bill Bailey was downright unsuccessful; the man has a serious amount of fans and we couldn’t get close enough to see him. Instead, we retreated to the cider tent and sat amongst the poi throwers as the sun beat down on our happy, upturned faces. Beth Orton hit the spot and pulled a strong crowd of her own. A chat with a few crowd members revealed that people rate this festival highly.

“We bring our whole family every year; it’s the safest festival we know of and the kids love it!” – Jane and Peter

“It’s the only festival that has a constant supply of loo paper in the portaloos” – Matt

Hey, if the nippers and your butt cheeks are happy, there’s not much more you can ask for.

We decided to make the most of the sunshine and spent the rest of the afternoon flitting between the press area and a prime lounging spot at the lakeside. People played frisbee, rode uni-cycles and worked on their tans as Fujiya and Miyagi hit the stage. It’s music to dance to and the crowd obliged. Later, Noel Fielding’s squeeze Dee Plume hit the Open Air stage to warm us up for The Mighty Boosh’s headline set. Unfortunately, both acts fell short of the mark; Noel and co were always going to please the hard-core fans with their costumes and silly ditties but for the non-Boosh obsessed, the comedians couldn’t compete with the fine musicianship we’d seen from other artists on the bill. Despite competing with the headliners, TM Juke & The Jack Baker Trio drew a crowd to the Castle Stage. It was foot stomping good fun.

The rest of the night was history… Matthew Herbert Big Band, Horsemeat Disco DJs in the Rizla Tent and The Mighty Boosh curated party in the Big Chill Tent stood out. We over-consumed in every way possible; hence the throbbing headache, glitter-encrusted face and thistle-speared butt cheeks. Oh what a night. The spirit of the fest was summed up when my mate lost his phone on a grassy knoll and the person who found it messaged me to find out how to return it. You wouldn’t get that at Glasto.

Buy or sell festival tickets.

Friday, 1st August 2008
Guest blogger: Katie Spain

Roll up, roll up… welcome to The Big Chill Festival. After some technological problems (compared to London, Eastnor is out in ‘the sticks’), we’re finally online and reporting back to you. Thanks to James Hurley for allowing me to hijack his blog this weekend. It’s an honour, I can tell you. Let’s hope I do his creative den justice.

I’ve been to a festival every weekend since the end of June and I’ve seen some absolute corkers (Secret Garden Party) and some that damn near scared me into a premature grey barnet (Download). It’s only day two, and already The Big Chill is up there with the best of them.

The train ride up here took about three-hours which was ample time to plan day one’s musical adventures. We opted for a hotel (hey, a girl has to wash) and found ourselves in a surreal Upton-Upon-Severn hotel that’d give Faulty Towers a run for its weird money. On the upside, it only set us back twenty quid and twenty minutes to get to the festival (Glastonbury took three hours). We’re tenting it today – but after a one-hour erection debacle, we’re starting to doubt the decision. Before you get your hopes up, it’s not as dirty as it sounds. Give us time though – there’s a long night ahead.

Bill Bailey is about to hit the stage and we’re in dire need of a laugh, so here’s a quick wrap up of the Friday that was…

I hate to talk about “The vibe” at festivals, but this one has it sorted. We arrived at 5pm and marvelled at the peaceful atmosphere and chilled out punters. The sun was out, kids frolicked like lambs on acid and parents kicked up their heels, downed falafel burgers and forgot about the working world back at home. The festival site is set alongside the stunning Eastnor Castle and a stroll across the grounds takes you past lakes, grassy hills, ferris wheels and tents; lots of tents.

We soon found out the ‘quiet’ atmosphere was short lived. As soon as the sun goes down, the party people come out to play. Imagine the scene in Gremlins when the cute little fluff balls get water on them. There’s a crazy side to The Big Chill and last night, Roots Manuva bought it out in them. I haven’t enjoyed a festival set so much in a long time, if nature hadn’t called, I’d have bopped along with the infectious groovers until the very end. I'm told they got a bit 'shouty' towards the ned so maybe my bladder knew best.

On the other side of the property, the sexy Roisin Murphy wowed punters with her electronic magic. As usual, she dressed for the occasion. So too, it seems, did we. A new friend from last night described my outfit at “Superwoman meets Lily Allen”. I didn’t know whether to slap or punch him.

We didn’t get time to explore the myriad of tents, massage havens, market stalls, art walks, multimedia tents and fair rides but the weekend is young. Instead we smoked too many fags in the Rizla outdoor dance area and downed the amorous chocolates I bought from a Finnish hippie. Either the festival air makes a girl randy, or those things really worked. Unfortunately, there’s not much of an attraction between my colleague Zarina and I, so the hotel stay was uneventful. Bring on Saturday; The Mighty Boosh are playing; anything is possible.

Buy or sell festival tickets.