Get Over Yourselves

I TiVo’ed all eight hours of yesterday’s Live8 concert and scanned the first couple hours last night. Some good performances. I liked the Coldplay/Richard Ashcroft version of “Bittersweet Symphony.” But, goddamn, there was a lot of self-righteous pomposity. Does anyone really care what Brad Pitt has to say on debt relief for Africa? Yes, we all know you’re banging Angelina Jolie, but just because she’s told you about some of her UN aid trips doesn’t make you a policy expert on international relations. And he wasn’t even the worst example. What was up with Madonna parading that poor Ethiopian woman across the stage as she belted out “Like A Virgin?” This woman nearly died from starvation; the least concert promoters could have done was rescue her from Madonna’s Hyde-Park-sized ego. Even U2 made me cringe when a bunch of white doves were released during “Beautiful Day.” Warren Ellis wanted to call in an air strike on Hyde Park when he saw that. I would have settled for someone rushing on-stage and giving Bono a healthy bitch slap. Geldof should have told every artist in advance, “Look, anything you say will only trivialize what we’re trying to do here. So just smile, sing your fucking set, and get off the bloody stage.”