Bruno Mars has definitely found his groove. After a series of successful, yet sonically schizophrenic, singles the pint-sized popster has settled into a sound that he clearly really likes. From Treasure, to Uptown Funk, to 24K Magic – and now Finesse – he’s clearly making the funk work for him. But are we wrong to think that it all sounds a bit familiar?
The BBC has released this year’s shortlist for the UK’s Eurovision entry and it seems as though – slowly, but surely – we are beginning to find our step with the modern competition. As ever, we’re armed with opinions, stats and theory in order to figure out what will give us our best chance in Lisbon in May.
The story of Paul from S Club 7 selling his Brit Awards on eBay – and getting a cool quarter million for his troubles – has really caught the imagination of the public. But he’s not the first celeb to try to hawk stuff on eBay to make ends meet. Hell, he’s not even the first member of S Club 7 to do it. There’s a thriving marketplace for celebrity tat – often run by the celebs themselves.
Michael Wolff’s explosive new book on the Trump White House, Fire And Fury, has been making headlines for its rip-roaring details. But as we learned from that David Cameron pigfucking memoir a few years ago, these things are usually sprinkled with a few tabloid tricks to make things sound extra juicy.
Once a reliable refuge from the miseries of the modern world, the pop charts are becoming every bit as grim as real life. 2017 in particular has really seen things take a turn for the maudlin – but why is it happening? Why are we so obsessed with sad sounding songs at the moment?
What is the extent of Parliament’s pornography problem? How regularly are our MPs trying to view this sort of stuff? And, most importantly, what kind of thing are they into? As the government is being so slow to release its report, we’ve taken matters into our own hands. Cross-referencing PornHub’s data with Parliament’s – we’ve come to some strange conclusions…
It’s been a horrible couple of weeks for almost everyone in the world of entertainment, but it has not been without its glimmers of hope. One such glimmer: we might be witnessing the end of the predatory Hollywood producer. Another such glimmer: we might also be witnessing the decline of the all-powerful Hollywood superlawyer.
Russian interference. Piss-tape kompromat. Montenegrin fake news factories. Shadowy billionaires on both sides of the political divide trying to ignite a culture war. There’s been one hell of an elaborate backstory contrived to explain the shock result of the 2016 US election, but a look through the lens of the National Enquirer suggests that some of it may have been a little more straightforward.
The criminal underworld of New York, the closed corridors of Washington, the magazine industry of Florida. They’re all very interesting – no question about that – but these aren’t regular people we’ve been talking about here. For the National Enquirer to cut any sway with millions of average American Joes, things would have to change. They’d have to go corporate. Which is where American Media, Inc. comes into play.
While mob boss Frank Costello gave the National Enquirer a connection to the less-reputable elements of society, in order to become a truly powerful publication it would need someone to introduce the Enquirer to the established corridors of power. Someone with the ear of a senator, an attorney general, a president. Which is exactly what it had in the rather lumpy shape of Roy Cohn.