The Return Of The Los Palmas 7: Madness in Mallorca

It’s odd that a quintessentially English group like Madness should attract interest from the natives. But they do. Probably because they are a “name”, a known act to the Spanish, unlike many of the British artists who have been playing Magalluf’s Mallorca Rocks this summer. The Spanish will be out in force as much as the Brits.

The nutty boys are playing Mallorca Rocks on Tuesday, the penultimate gig of a season that at one point had looked as though it might have been scuppered by legal challenges to the Fiesta hotel venue. To the rescue, finally, came the tourism ministry which discovered that it could grant the necessary permissions where before it had said it couldn’t. If there was something, how can one put it, convenient about the decision taken by new tourism minister Carlos Delgado who, as mayor of Calvia, had previously given the hotel the initial go-ahead, then let’s be thankful for convenience.

The opposition to Mallorca Rocks was petty. Despite its having been led by the tourist businesses association Acotur, no one was in any doubt as to where the inspiration for the opposition was coming from. A bit of competition should have hurt no one. Indeed, the arrival of Mallorca Rocks should have been applauded by everyone, competitors included (even those who hadn’t thought of doing something similar), in boosting Magalluf and Mallorca’s reputation.

So much for the political background, and back to Madness. Their appearance, more so than Norman Cook earlier in the summer, gives the Mallorca Rocks season a seal of internationally recognised approval; hence the interest shown among the Spanish. It’s good that they are playing, but I shan’t be going. It’s not that middle-aged men shouldn’t still be performing, it’s just that this is the same Madness of some thirty years ago, when they were mad.

Attending a Madness gig back in the day was not something you did without some thought and trepidation if you happened not to be a skinhead. The group’s appearance and their embracing of ska and bluebeat made them the darlings of the boys with no hair and Dr. Martens. There was also a concern that the group themselves were politically far from correct, a reputation at the time that they initially did little to deflect and which also brought them into conflict with The Specials.

Though there was a commonality with the music, Madness’s short involvement with The Specials’ 2 Tone label seemed incongruous. The Specials, as with others on the label, The Selecter and The Beat, were fiercely anti-racist. With Madness, you weren’t quite sure, and the National Front association they acquired, almost totally because of skins who were part of the NF and who turned up at their gigs, made you distinctly wary. It was only when they disassociated themselves from the skinhead movement and also moved away from the ska roots that they shook off the reputation.

The other incongruity between Madness and 2 Tone was that Madness, despite their tribute to Prince Buster which launched them on 2 Tone, were very “London”. Their music, or rather their style, came to reflect this and it was, to some extent, a continuation of the London pub scene of the seventies, of Eddie And The Hot Rods, Dr. Feelgood and more obviously Kilburn And The High Roads (and later Ian Dury And The Blockheads).

The mainstays of 2 Tone were all Midlands-based, and even one group that wasn’t part of 2 Tone but which formed at the same time and had its own reggae and multi-ethnic mix, UB40, was from Birmingham. And Madness weren’t multi-ethnic. They were uniformly white, and their musical direction steered them towards a very white, very English sound and towards very English lyrics, when lyrics were actually used. One of their best “songs” was not a song at all, but the instrumental “Return Of The Los Palmas 7”, a weirdly infectious ballroom-lounge tune that could just as easily have been put out some years before by The Bonzo Dog Band in one of their saner moments.

Madness were always a cracking band and a cracking live act. They churned out hit after hit and were permanently in the charts. They seemed as though they would go on and on, having found a commercial formula, as did UB40, that suggested a longevity that had eluded The Specials. It didn’t happen, though, and by the mid-1980s they had split.

But they’re back and they’re playing Mallorca Rocks. Madness? It probably won’t be. Not as it was. But if you’re going, enjoy it. Waiter!

 

 

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

The Party’s Over: Fiestas

The threat of cuts to fiesta programmes is becoming a reality. Pollensa town hall is considering scrapping the street party of the night of 1 August that runs on into the early hours of 2 August, the day of the Moors and Christians battle that is the climax to the town’s Patrona festivities.

Mayor Tomeu Cifre has said that something has to give. If not the street party, then other things would have to go, one possibility being the “marxa fresca” (the white party) that is normally held on the night before the street party.

You might ask what the difference is between these two parties. Both are, after all, held in the streets and squares of Pollensa. The marxa fresca is more an open-air disco in the Plaça Major, whereas the street party of 1 August involves three squares holding rock and dance music concerts. The cost alone of staging this street party, according to the mayor, is 40,000 euros; 40,000 euros the town hall simply hasn’t got.

The funding crisis for cultural events in Pollensa nearly claimed this year’s music festival. While the previous town hall administration was tardy, to blame it entirely for the disorganisation is unfair. The new tourism ministry has ridden to the music festival’s rescue in providing emergency funds, the ministry of the last government having blocked funding.

The town hall was short of nearly two hundred thousand euros for the music festival, money that had traditionally been forthcoming from the government. Though the new tourism minister, Carlos Delgado, has assured his support for the music festival, he has also made it perfectly clear that an examination of grants to events from the government is going to be undertaken – in an as objective fashion as possible. In other words, there can be no guarantee that the music festival, along with any other recipient of government cash, will be helped out so generously in future, if at all.

In the case of the music festival, why has the tourism ministry been helping to fund it? I raised the question before. What does it really do for tourism? Well, come on, what does it do? Anyone able to give a firm answer? I would very much doubt it. If any ministry should be putting its hands into its pockets, then it should be that for culture.

In terms of the economic resources directed towards fiestas or festivals and of the direct economic benefits from tourism, to justify funding in the name of tourism is sophistry.

In Pollensa the mayor has also said that the budget for this year’s fiestas, well down in any event on what is needed, will see 30,000 euros directed towards the fiestas in Puerto Pollensa, both the recent “feria del mar” and the upcoming Virgen del Carmen.

The town hall has 130,000 euros in all at its disposal. Patrona in the old town gets the lion’s share of the budget (100,000 euros), yet, with the exception of the Moors and Christians battle, Patrona doesn’t necessarily attract huge numbers of tourists. The events in the port, on the other hand, do, for the very good reason that this is where most of the tourists are to be found.

This underlines the fact that, for all the talk of fiestas as traditional events which appeal to tourists, tourists are not the primary target. They are events for the local population; as is the case with the music festival as well. There is nothing at all wrong with this, but, and despite the music festival being a different category of event to fiestas, Delgado is absolutely right to be taking a hard look at grants. If by doing so, he sends out a message to town halls that they need to apply greater realism, then he will have done a great service.

To come back to the street party, there is a further reason for its possibly being scrapped, and that is the problems it causes. Increasingly, it has become an excuse for an almighty great piss-up – a botellón – and the ambience is less than pleasant. Calls have been made, for instance, for people to desist from using the streets as toilets.

In Sa Pobla they dropped their own street party last year. Similar reasons were cited to those in Pollensa where there has been disquiet expressed as to the fact that the fiestas have lost their sense of tradition among young people and simply become the launch pad for drunkenness and misbehaviour. So, Pollensa town hall has more than one agenda when it comes to abandoning the street party, but overriding this is the fact that the fiestas have needed to be scrutinised more intensely. It’s a great shame that economic crisis has necessitated this, but it is long overdue.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Happy Hour Again: Mallorca Rocks

Mr. Zoë Ball, aka Norman Cook, aka Fatboy Slim will be one of the star attractions during this summer’s season of concerts at Magalluf’s Mallorca Rocks. A midsummer night’s dream on 21 June. But not a dream for everyone.

In its second year of operation, the Mallorca Rocks’ diverse programme will range from the old school of the Madness nutty boys through the rap of Dizzee Rascal, Plan B and Tinie Tempah, to the rock of Biffy Clyro and the dance-punk of Friendly Fires. It is an ambitious schedule of some of the leading names in British music and some very much at the cutting-edge from what has arguably been the most ambitious development in Mallorca for years. Its very ambitiousness and innovativeness are what has caused not everyone to be happy.

The unhappy ones have been the association of tourist businesses, Acotur. Last December, it sought a meeting with the hotel association in Palmanova and Magalluf. It was questioning the legality of Mallorca Rocks, while it considered its very presence to be unfair competition for bars and other entertainment establishments. The hotel association disagreed, describing Mallorca Rocks as innovative and as adding value. Acotur had previously denounced the concerts at the hotel.

The hotel association was absolutely right. While Acotur may or may not have had legitimate grounds for complaining, one had the strong sense that behind the objections was more than just a feeling that it had been caught on the hop, and not just the hip-hop, by a development that was bold and new.

Mallorca doesn’t generally do bold and new. It likes to hold onto the status quo, so much so that Status Quo might be considered to be innovative. The geriatric rockers have of course played in Palma, if playing is the right word. They were symbolic of the has-been nature of Mallorca; tired, formulaic, worn-out and not very good. Mallorca Rocks has come along and smashed that image, like punk tearing down the dinosaurs of prog and replacing them with the remarkably named Orlando Higginbottom, aka Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs, who will be supporting Fatboy Slim.

Mallorca Rocks has been a case of catch-up, most obviously with its progenitor, Ibiza Rocks. Following in the foot and dance steps of Ibiza, Mallorca stumbles towards more of a club scene that, despite BCM and its own Pachas, has long been the domain of the island to the south. Mallorca has never had the chic cachet associated with the likes of the Café del Mar or Ibizan clubs that helped to create the British dance scene of the late 1980s and early 1990s.

The boldness of both Rocks has been to make live music a facet of the summer season; live music which is genuine, star quality, international and new, as opposed to bands doing covers, trib acts and the embarrassment of playback. The other boldness has been to re-invent the hotel with a theme. In the case of the Fiesta Trópico, it has become the Mallorca Rocks hotel. Just one reason why Acotur in Magalluf and Palmanova has been getting agitated is because other hotels have been eyeing up the success of the theme and contemplating their own.

Impact on bars and clubs from Mallorca Rocks there may well be. It could be both positive and negative, but most importantly, the arrival of Mallorca Rocks has represented wholly new directions in terms both of entertainment and hotel style. But the island’s tourism industry is suspicious of new directions. It finds it hard to adapt or to change, so when something comes along that creates an upheaval, it holds up its hands and cries foul.

And the specifically youthful direction that Mallorca Rocks has taken is one that many within the industry fail to acknowledge or to want. Yet, youthful or more mature, live music accords with what surveys have been telling us – that tourists, of different ages, like having nights out. It’s a message that gets lost because the industry prefers that it is lost, amidst the inane clamour for alternative tourism, one that suggests a holidaymaker should suffer for his holidaying art, rather than actually enjoy it.

The midsummer night’s dream of Norman Cook in Magalluf should be an occasion for everyone to celebrate and on which they should be happy. Happy that here is the future, and not the past. They should revel in a night and not just a happy hour of the Housemartins’ one-time bassist, but they won’t, because they’d rather it wasn’t happening.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Madman Crosses The Water

The things you find out.

Bite-sized sucking pig with pomegranate sauce; white flowers and Scandinavian air; red roses and roses without petals; Macià Batle wine from Santa Maria del Cami; 23 metres high and 50 metres wide; 25 lorries from the UK and mainland Spain.

Want to hazard a guess?

The answers – in order – are: part of the menu for the VIPs; the design of a VIP area; the star’s choice of flowers (forgive me, but what are roses without petals?); the same star’s supposed choice of plonk; the size of the stage; the number of lorries transporting kit.

Come on, you must know now.

Over the past weeks we have been able to read interviews with three stars (well, two stars and a starlet). During this week we have been able to see photos of a man with a mobile phone (the promoter), a lorry, some stage being built, some more stage being built, and, yes, even more stage being built.

What we have also found out, we think, is that there will be 34,000 people, or maybe 20,000, or perhaps 25,000, assuming all the seats are sold. As of yesterday afternoon, at least 3,000 were unsold out of whatever the total number actually is. No one seems to quite know, or they do, and the press is just offering a multiple choice.

We have also discovered that the two main stars will bring “synergy”. Ah yes, a word beloved by management consultants and by managers brainwashed by the consultants into believing such a state can be achieved. At least the consultants would argue that there should be a certain similarity between entities in order to bring about synergetic benefits. When the two stars are from diverse fields, one does have to wonder. But let’s not quibble. Synergy there surely will be. Just don’t tell those who may be going only for one or the other and who might have paid less had there not been any synergy.

What we have yet to find out is whether it will be a success. But we can predict that it will be, even if it isn’t. As we can predict that we will read gushing editorials, see photos of the occasion and, if we’re lucky, yet more photos of stage, but this time being dismantled. The editorial will be along the lines of it just goes to prove that Mallorca can put on a “great”, “spectacular”, “amazing”, “remarkable” (select as you will) concert.

When the media is so in lunatic thrall to the appearance of two stars, then what else can you expect, other than pages devoted, on a daily basis, to the minutiae and drivel surrounding that appearance. This manic fascination does, it must be said, appear to have something to do with sponsors’ names. Go to the “Diario de Mallorca”, for example, and you will find only the occasional, discreet mention. No prizes for guessing where the pages are being filled.

I’ve got a lot of time for Elton John. He may have been through his own drug-induced nuclear winter, but he has come out of it articulate and sane: unlike the barely intelligible half human Keefronnieryders from the Planet McGowan of the sort Kirk and Spock might have encountered. It’s as well that before tomorrow’s concert he will never have previously set foot or piano hands in Mallorca, and that afterwards he’ll be swiftly away. Sane? He soon wouldn’t be.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Clutching At Straws: Concerts and tourism responsibilities

Straw, clutch. Clutch, straw. Elton, Andrea. Andrea, Elton.

On 4 September, Elton John and Andrea Bocelli will be playing Real Mallorca’s stadium. Not at football, but at their day jobs – in the evening. At the risk of offending fans, excuse me if I stifle an unenthusiastic yawn. I may well be out of tune with my audience, some of whom – you, in other words – may be in the audience. At up to a mere 169 euros a pop. Pop music meets the classics at classic prices – they’ve got to be kidding.

Whenever, which isn’t very often, a major name in the music world – or two, as the case may be – pitches up in Mallorca, excitement goes into overdrive, among some. And where Reg and Bocelli are concerned, the government’s tourism ministry is getting excited. Together with the concert’s promoters, it is eyeing the gig up as a means of attracting tourists. Straw, clutch.

The stadium will be able to hold 34,000 for the concert. Not exactly Wembley, but still a fair number of people, but not so many for an island with an 800,000 or so population plus all the others who are knocking about. Two major artists. The tickets went on sale on 21 June. It is now the end of July. Hmm.

The ministry reckons that tour operators will be able to offer packages to come to Mallorca and take in the event. It will “prove a vital adjunct to the success of marketing the Balearic Islands this season” (quote from “The Bulletin”).

Let’s just consider this. Tour operators may indeed be able to offer packages, but isn’t this all a little late? How many tourists would actually come? However many might will make barely a dent in the overall tourism intake over a whole season. A season that, by implication from that quote, has already been something of a success. Has it really? The belated marketing of Reg sounds less like an enhancement of the tourist season and more one of desperation to sell tickets.

Elsewhere in tourism ministry-land, a previous bonkers suggestion that its responsibilities should be handed to the Council of Mallorca has not been taken up fully, but it has been taken up in part. Some of the ministry’s duties, those related to the regulation and administration of tourism businesses, are to go to the council, which presumably will allow the ministry to concentrate on more glamorous tasks, such as trying like hell to fill Mallorca’s stadium when Elton comes to town. It doesn’t really matter where the responsibilities reside, except for the fact that it will have the effect of beefing up the council when the reverse should be happening. If they want to save money, then they should slim it down not fatten it.

The ministry is also to create yet another damn body, this one a “mesa” (table) around which will sit government institutions and the private sector and have a chinwag about boosting some “alternative” tourism, such as trekking and bird-watching. Fair enough perhaps, but not if it merely creates a further link in the not always joined up chain of tourism promotion and not if, as one fears, this “alternative” tourism is largely illusory. Straw, clutch.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

The Day The Music Died: Puerto Pollensa and live music

On Sunday, the press was reporting on issues with bar noise in Puerto Pollensa. The reports had to do primarily with one particular bar and with the fact that music was going on till the wee small hours. This was the main aspect of the reports, but when I read them – the Spanish as well in order to check that “The Bulletin” hadn’t got it wrong – there was a piece at the end which struck me as being far more important. The mayor, it was reported, said that there could be no live music in bars in Pollensa. Can’t be right, I thought. Then, on Sunday night, plod did the rounds. At least one bar was told that they had to “see the mayor”.

Apparently it has never been the case that there could be live music. Seemingly, it’s one of those things that has just gone on. But to prevent it would be complete madness. There is a huge difference between live music that stops by or before midnight and a club or disco that goes on till four, five or six in the morning. Live music should be a feature of a thriving tourism resort, but one wonders, as ever, whether the town halls and others actually want this – thriving tourism. Noise is a facet of tourism resorts. It can be moderated, but it can’t be eliminated; nor should it be.

But how far does this apparent prohibition extend? The hotels with their entertainment, the church with its occasional concerts, the golf club with its proposed China Crisis concert? What about the music in the old Tango? The jazz sessions in the old Fat Cats? Under this “rule”, they should never have been happening. It would be utterly unfair if different rules were to apply, or in fact if one rule were to apply – that of no live music. It’s absurd.

Chances are that the town hall will see sense. Oh, what am I saying? But you can but hope. This isn’t necessarily an attack on Puerto Pollensa, as clearly this so-called rule applies everywhere. The bars in Pollensa town would also be affected. Nevertheless, it is indicative of a town hall that has a thorough lack of appreciation of tourism and of evening/nightlife in the port and the town. To all the other moans of the protest on Wednesday can be added another – the killjoys of the town hall. But you wonder if this move isn’t somehow coincidental. It might be construed as driving a wedge between factions in the port, those who do want and those who don’t want music and some noise. The town hall can say that it is “doing something”, unrelated to the items of the protest manifesto, but can attempt to take the higher ground. Whatever the motives, it sucks. Sucks big time.

HOT! Online
For anyone who might have been following my trials and tribulations, there is a version of HOT! that can be seen in its entirety on the net. Go to the home page of http://www.thealcudiaguide.com and you’ll see the banner to the right for HOT! Click on it and the PDF will download. Depending on your broadband speed, it might take a bit longer than in just an instant. The resolution is not the highest because this version had to be reduced drastically in size, but it’s ok. Oh, and I know that the ad for El Limón (page 17) has slipped down the page.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Do The Hustle: Tourist publications and dead pop stars

I went to see The Hustlers the other evening. When I say “see”, I actually went to talk to them. If you don’t know, The Hustlers are one of the very few jobbing live bands that play locally. There is plenty of live music and live entertainment during the summer, but very little by way of what you might think of as pub bands and hardly any who ply their trade by playing rock-to-Latin-to-pop classics – in English. A question I asked was why did they think that their style of music, i.e. one that is authentic in the sense of playing instruments – and in not being a tribute act – was so rare. They weren’t sure, but suggested that it might be because it’s easier to just plug in a machine and play backing tracks, which can often be the case.

The reason for talking to them was that the interview, if one can call a fairly casual chat over a pizza and a beer just prior to their performing an interview, will form the basis for an article about the band that is set to appear in what will be a new publication this season. This “newspaper” is intended to be quite different to much of what goes around as tourist literature. But it still hasn’t got a title. Well, it has had several – as working titles.

Coming up with a name is not straightforward. You might think it is, but it isn’t. You want impact, but you also want sense or context. You might also want something that is understandable to or pronounceable by the natives. You might also, despite the tourist focus, want to avoid the words “tourist” or “holiday”. Someone said to me that tourists don’t like to be identified as tourists, and he’s one who is working with them every day. I know what he means. If I’m in a foreign place, in a foreign land, I’ll usually write down what I need to know and leave the publication behind, or if I have it with me, I’ll go and hide somewhere and consult it. You won’t find me on a busy street corner, a map unfolded and a baffled expression as I try and make out the road signs, with an even bigger sign above me and pointing down at me saying “clock the tourist”. Nope, I’ll be in a darkened doorway somewhere.

Everyone has an opinion as to the title. It’s good in one way. They are interested. But everyone tends to be an expert when it comes to publications. Why not call it this, or that? Why not do this, or that? I may occasionally volunteer some comment about a bar name or what a bar or restaurant or attraction is doing, but what the hell do I really know? It’s not my business after all.

And also on newspapers …

It may not have escaped your attention that I do occasionally refer to some of the stranger things that emanate from “The Bulletin” and from Riki Lash. There was a piece yesterday that left me wondering if I had imagined that someone had died, namely Mike Smith, once of the Dave Clark Five. In the Lash column, it was going on about Smith having recovered from the accident which had left him paralysed, to the extent that he would be taking part “in a 40th anniversary tour next year with the original Dave Clark Five”, a tour which apparently includes a date in Palma.

It will take some doing, I would suggest. Smith’s wikipedia page; the websites of the “Daily Telegraph”, the “Daily Mail”, “Rolling Stone”; the Dave Clark Five website: maybe they’re all wrong, but they all say the same thing. Smith died at the end of February 2008. Yet in Lash land, Smith has not only miraculously recovered from being a tetraplegic, he has also miraculously risen from the dead. And another thing … were Mike Smith to in fact be taking part in an anniversary tour, why would it be the 40th? When, for example, was “Glad All Over” a hit? 2011 minus 40 = 1971, i.e. eight years after “Glad All Over” was released.

Bizarre.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Wishful Thinking – Music in Mallorca

The geriatric, very vintage rock of recent vintage in Palma, the creaking bones and voices of a Cocker, a Cohen and a Quo, is to be supplanted this summer by a group of less vintage due to appear at the Palma Arena. The Cranberries. Dolores and the chaps. Reformed and undergoing a world tour, the Irish group will take to the stage in Palma on 31 July. There is a bit of form when it comes to Irish bands in Palma; The Corrs have also played there.

It may not be music “of the moment” but The Cranberries offer something a tad more contemporary than Rossi and Parfitt. And I admit that I have a bit of soft spot for them. Well, Dolores anyway. I presumed it was her name that triggered a dream about a “Dolores”. Not that this “Dolly” looked like her. Blond, not Spanish, but with a Spanish name. Dolores Cocita, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Water was coming into my imaginary flat from the one above, the one belonging to Dolly. And that was how it all began. In the dream. One of those extraordinarily vivid and detailed dreams. I wrote it down. It’s the basis for something. Not sure what. But the story of Dolores will be written at some stage.

I digress. Coming hard on the news of the opening of the Mallorca Rocks venue in Magaluf, Mallorca seems to be dragging itself into a more modern music world. Sort of. We still have to put up with pop stars turned crooners like Tony Hadley, a me-too big-bandist warbler in the wake of Robbie, Rod and Paul Young, and all of them took their lead from the late Robert Palmer.

The point about most pop and rock acts is that they never actually die or completely fade away. Some go on a back-burner for years, others run short of money and so try and make some anew, others fail to make a lasting impression as solo artists (like Take That) and so realise that the sum of their parts was always greater than they as individuals, others look to cash in on the “revival” bandwagon and others just simply get forgotten and all of a sudden re-emerge as though they had never actually gone away.

When the Spans’ front man pitched up at last year’s Pollensa Music Festival, there was some considerable excitement. Not where I was concerned, but among some. But one could understand it; Spandau Ballet were, after all, once a big name, albeit a big name of smooth, Thatcherite, red-braces rock as opposed to the altogether grittier post-punk, dole-queue, racism-confronting, angry anti-Thatcher, socialist soul and ska of The Jam or The Specials. Which brings me to China Crisis, a phenomenon of 1980s wine-bar pop, who, like other soft acts of the time, those right for the conservatism of early MTV and that of the bromided, cowed, new complacency induced by Thatcherism – Johnny Hates Jazz, Curiosity Killed The Cat, Wang Chung – had a daft and pretentious name and a brief spell in the spotlights of Top of The Pops, a group that had completely faded from mine or probably anyone’s radar, when out of the blue of economic crisis, it was announced they’d be playing the golf club in Pollensa; well, Zhan as it is now known. Cue less understandable excitement. But. There’s always a but. Two in fact. China Crisis had the distinction of working with Walter Becker of Steely Dan, which should elevate them in anyone’s estimation. And the second but. I have a confession. Not only do I still have in my possession a Spandau Ballet album (what was I thinking?), I also have the original vinyl 45 of the best thing the Crisis chaps did – “Wishful Thinking”. Any group that can feature an oboe is ok in my book, though their gig in Pollensa seems all a bit, well odd. But maybe not. They could actually prove to be very good. As it’s due to take place at the end of July, for those inclined to do so, it could be a dual-venue short break. Pollensa, China Crisis, and then to Palma for Dolores and The Cranberries who, never let it be forgotten, were responsible for one of the loveliest, greatest ever of songs. Here’s the youtube – “Linger”:

And “Wishful Thinking” is not far behind in the beautiful songs league, even if there’s no Dolores:

China Crisis, 29 July, Zhan, Pollensa.
The Cranberries, 31 July, Palma Arena.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Let’s Play Risk – The closure of Riskal

“Too risky.” Remember that catch-phrase? Some of you would probably prefer not to, but it came from the “nick-nick” time when Jim Davidson was any good, i.e. for a brief period when he first found fame. Too risky. Risk all. Riskal. Know what Riskal is/was? A grand centre for entertainment, culture, events and gastronomy, not far from Palma. It was the vision of one Joan Gelabert, ten years in the development at a cost of some 50 million euros. It opened in December 2008. In keeping with pretty much any new establishment, there was an inauguration, though Riskal’s was in the stratosphere of the lavish. Among the guests was Miquel Nadal, then the tourism minister. Maybe that was a fate of bad omen. Riskal seemed to risk all, it was hugely ambitious. It closed on Monday.

One needs to appreciate the scale of what was risked. Occupying 26,000 square metres and with 4,000 additional square metres of gardens, Riskal, technologically at the state of the art, comprised an art gallery, an auction room, a bookshop, a jazz club, a disco, three function areas, restaurants and cafés and a catering facility. Two hundred jobs were envisaged. The thirty employees are now out of work. The owner hopes it’s not the end, that Riskal may not be closed permanently, that it might be possible to sell it on.

It was rotten timing of course and was not the first grand Mallorcan project to open just when the world’s economy was in freefall. Hotel Formentor was another, back in the days of The Depression; it financially crippled Adan Diehl who had arranged its construction. Fifty million euros were splashed on the Riskal pleasure dome, and slap bang in the middle of economic chaos it opened to considerable publicity; full-pages ads in the newspapers and so on. The problem was, what was it? Perhaps it was some overblown vanity project. But such a description would be unfair to Gelabert’s vision. Riskal was intended to be a location that would show off the finest of talents, a location for conventions (achieved for example with staging a congress for the UGT union), a location for residents and tourists alike, well those with some money to throw around. It was intended, one guesses, as symbolic of a different type of Mallorca, a sophisticated Mallorca, one in keeping with other visions, those of government and authorities keen on an image of the island elevated from the sun and beach.

No, Riskal was not vanity. It was virtuous, too much so perhaps, but it defied simple definition. A maxim of business is to be able to sum something up in a short sentence. Riskal needed several, or certainly that was the impression its publicity gave. It was difficult to get a handle on the place. Whether it caused much impact among tourists last year is hard for me to say, but the name never seemed to crop up. Or maybe I just move in the wrong circles.

It’s a shame. Of course it’s a shame that Riskal has closed. New, different projects are just what Mallorca needs. Take another one, due to start this summer – the Mallorca Rocks Hotel in Magaluf. This sounds a fantastic idea, one that builds on the success of the Ibiza Rocks Hotel. The opening of the new hotel will feature The Kooks and DJ Zane Lowe. Apart from the obvious, namely the differences in markets and entertainment offered, Mallorca Rocks is also different to Riskal in that it has a clear focus and identity. It is a music destination. It is easy to understand and therefore easier to market.

Recession clearly played a part in Riskal having to close barely a year after opening, but maybe it was just too broad a concept. Too ambitious and too ill-defined. Too risky.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Whatever You Want

It must have been 1975. There was a concert at university. Some got very excited about it. I didn’t. Indeed I got decidedly hacked off with it, especially when I was asked to prove my age in one of the campus bars by a zealous steward aghast at the early adolescents attempting to purchase pints of McEwan’s. The campus was full of townie young hippiette types or townie young rockerettes, all greatcoats, brushing hair from their cheeks and walking in that earnest and headlocked fashion that was once affected by those of a long-hair disposition. Perhaps they still walk that way, the new generation that is, the neck tight and the head staccato as though it were in time with a slow drum beat. The group was big back then. Massive in fact. One of the country’s foremost rock acts. They were taken seriously then, not by a few but by a great number. That great number in their greatcoats. 

 

I had always found it difficult to apprehend the transition from “Pictures of Matchstick Men”, all phasing and jangling post-Byrds guitars, to heavy rockers. Though whether Status Quo were ever really heavy rockers is open to some question. They were more an elevated pub-rock band, the Chas and Daves of the electric guitar. Even then they were becoming outmoded. Dr. Feelgood and Eddie and the Hot Rods were in the vanguard of pub rock, and it was they who, in part, blazed the trail for punk. Status Quo had sailed into rock leviathan deep water. Simple and basic was their music, but it tended to be lumped in with monstrosities of rock such as Emerson Lake and Palmer; well, by Fluff Freeman anyway.

 

Turn the clock forward some 35 years, and what does one have? The Quo playing the Palma arena. On 8th September to be precise. Recently, Leonard Cohen took Palma as well: together with Messrs Rossi and Parfitt, some two hundred years worth of ancient rock iconicity, assuming one can permit such a description of the Quo, which is doubtful. Icons of rock would not have been booted out of Radio 1 and consigned to the outer limits of obscure music channels, there to be interviewed by faded former Radio 1 or Capitol DJs, amidst the prehistoric jingles and playing snooker on the radio, in a reunion of musical decrepitude.

 

Palma is a repository of the relics of rock. Only, if memory serves, has one international act of relative youth – The Corrs – taken to a Palma stage these past few years. They tried internationalising the San Sebastià music stages and ended up with some version of ELO and a debacle surrounding what may or may not have been Earth Wind and Fire. They didn’t bother trying a repetition this year. Otherwise there has been Joe Cocker warbling and jerking like a puppet from “Watch With Mother” and the one-time de rigueur act on the in-car entertainment systems of professional footballers, the “Stars” era Simply Red whose star did shine brightly for as long as it took their first album to fade from the memory, to be replaced by the cabaret slick Mick. And now the Quo-sters. 

 

There has been some late-in-life credibility given back to the Quo by their appearing at Glastonbury albeit that Glastonbury has a strong line in post-modern irony by re-creating “Top Of The Pops” circa the seventies with the Quos and Shakin’ Stevenses. Not everyone is impressed by this, such as  “Tree Badger”: “The heavens will open, rain and displeasure will lash down upon them, and luck willing some part of the rig will give way while they play ‘Whatever You Want’, crushing them and electrocuting any hapless roadies that may happen to be in the surrounding area” (http://www.treebadger.co.uk).

 

But of course the mere presence of Rick and Francis will allow for some island-media photo opps for the cliquish celebrity cadre of southern Mallorca and for the non- or wannabe celebs, also of the south, and will cause some to announce that Palma and therefore Mallorca has much to offer by way of entertainment and as an entertainment location and, by extension, something to do with tourism, whatever that might be. Just that this entertainment tends to be old. Very, very old. There is one saving grace. At least it’s not a tribute band.