We hear it time and time again: “The Eurovision Song Contest is not political.” And while we all know that the voting patterns can sometimes be… entertaining, to say the least, at its heart Eurovision remains a celebration of music, creativity, and community. It has long been affectionately referred to as the “Gay New Year,” bringing joy, glamour, and unapologetic self-expression to millions around the world. For many viewers, it is more than a show — it is a moment of unity.
The spirit of Eurovision has always been about artists coming together to share their talent, culture, and stories. It was never intended to be a platform for political punishment, nor a place where artists are excluded because of the actions of their governments.
When I interviewed Peter Tatchell this year, he said something that resonated deeply with me: the way forward for the LGBTQ+ community is to keep being a shining beacon across all platforms. I couldn’t agree more. Visibility, inclusion, and dialogue are how progress is made — not through shutting doors.
Madonna in Israel at the Eurovision Song Contest .
I don’t live in some insulated “gay bubble,” nor would I want to. Real change happens when we remain open to conversation, even with those whose governments or policies we may profoundly disagree with. Excluding countries from Eurovision is not a solution; it brings nothing constructive to the table. In fact, it risks undermining the very principles Eurovision claims to stand for: openness, inclusivity, and the celebration of cultural diversity.
Israel, in particular, has a long and meaningful relationship with the contest. It is a country where LGBTQ+ people are welcomed, recognised, and celebrated — a fact often overlooked in broader political debates. Eurovision itself has benefited enormously from Israel’s participation. It gave us Dana International, the first (known) transgender winner, whose victory in 1998 was a landmark moment for queer visibility worldwide. Beyond Dana, Israel has consistently showcased diverse performers and daring artistic vision, enriching the contest’s legacy.
Rather than silencing or excluding, Eurovision should remain a platform where artists from all backgrounds, beliefs, and nations can share their voice. Music has always had the power to connect people beyond politics, beyond borders, and beyond conflict. Using your voice to send a message is a beautiful and powerful thing — but using silence as a form of punishment rarely fosters understanding or change.
When we welcome artists from countries whose governments we may disagree with, we create the possibility for conversation, empathy, and cultural exchange. When we block them, we lose that opportunity. Eurovision should not become a battleground of boycotts and bans; it should remain what it was created to be: a stage that celebrates unity in diversity.
Let’s not allow hatred, division, or political pressure to turn Eurovision into something it was never meant to be. Let’s welcome all who bring music to the stage — and keep the contest a place where voices are heard, not silenced.
It’s hard to believe it’s a beautiful sunny day. I’m standing in a field surrounded by almost ten thousand people, with one of my best friends beside me It should be a moment of sheer joy. And yet, I’m crying.
Why? Because Lewis Capaldi is performing.
More than just singing, he is baring his soul. And somehow, it feels as though he’s opening it just for me. There’s a rawness in his voice and vulnerability in his presence that goes beyond a typical performance. As a man, I felt an instant, emotional connection to his struggle, his humour, and his humanity.
Capaldi’s return to the stage feels like one of the landmark performances of this century. Not simply because “he’s back,” as he says but because he has redefined what it means to be a male performer in the modern age. There was a time when baring your soul in music was reserved for iconic women—Judy Garland, Liza Minnelli, Nina Simone—divas who transformed pain into power and emotion into art. But Capaldi proves that a man can do the same. His voice isn’t just strong; it’s expressive, vulnerable, and unashamedly real.
There’s a reason we relate to artists like these so deeply: they tell our stories. And when we see them, we feel seen. Capaldi doesn’t posture or hide behind image or ego. He stumbles, jokes, apologises, laughs at himself—and keeps going. In a world often obsessed with perfection, his imperfections are his greatest strength.
Capaldi may not see himself this way, but he is one of the great performers of our time. Not only because of his incredible voice, but because of his natural wit, honesty, and charm. Who could forget his now-famous moment on The Graham Norton Show, when he hilariously recounted watching Fifty Shades of Grey star Jamie Dornan wield a whip, joking that he was holding one part of his anatomy while Dornan had the other? It’s outrageous, but entirely Capaldi—bold, cheeky, and completely unfiltered.
But behind the banter lies something even more powerful. His recent public struggles with mental health and Tourette’s have made him not just relatable but important. His openness has created space for men to talk about vulnerability without shame. Watching him on stage—pausing mid-song, taking deep breaths, letting the audience carry him when needed—is nothing short of brave.
I’ve attended many performances in my life, from pop concerts to opera at the Royal Opera House, where I once saw a devastatingly beautiful Tosca. I cried But nothing prepared me for the emotional impact of Capaldi live—it was so unexpected. He may not wear a tuxedo or stand beneath a chandelier, but make no mistake—this was high art. And perhaps more importantly, it was deeply human.
There’s a rare intimacy between Capaldi and his audience. At times, the concert felt more like a conversation than a show. People sang not just with him, but for him, filling in lyrics when his voice cracked or faltered. It wasn’t just support—it was love. Genuine, messy, joyous love.
In a world full of polished pop stars, here is someone who dares to be completely himself. He reminds us that music isn’t always about escapism; sometimes, it’s about facing pain head-on and finding beauty in the cracks. His songs speak to heartbreak, loneliness, and the strange, funny bits of life that connect us all.
So yes, on this perfect sunny day, in the middle of a field with thousands of others and one of my dearest friends, I cried. Not because I was sad, but because I felt something real—raw, universal, and unforgettable.
Lewis Capaldi, whether he realises it or not, has become a star of the people. And as tears rolled down my face, I felt honoured to witness it.
When you tune in to watch The 1975 perform live, you’re not just listening to a concert—you’re boarding an electrifying emotional rollercoaster. From the first beat to the final bow, Matty Healy doesn’t just sing; he commands, provokes, and enchants. At Glastonbury, he led his band into the annals of festival history with a performance that was nothing short of spellbinding—part protest, part performance art, and all heart.
There’s no doubt that watching The 1975 live is like being caught in a storm of sound and sentiment. Healy, a vocal advocate for mental health awareness, brings his audience on a journey that often feels bipolar in nature—veering from euphoric highs to moments of raw, painful vulnerability. One moment, you’re leaping in unison with thousands, lost in the pulse of a synth-heavy anthem; the next, you’re hushed and still, listening as he declares, “I’m bleeding for you.” Behind him, haunting visuals flash—images of human suffering, environmental destruction, animal cruelty—reminding the audience that this isn’t just music, it’s a call to consciousness.
“It’s not about politics anymore,” Healy said mid-set. “It’s about love. It’s about being kind. Only with that will we ever make a real difference.” It’s these moments of candour that transform his concerts from simple entertainment into deeply moving communal experiences. In an industry where many shy away from difficult truths, Healy walks straight into them, arms wide open.
His onstage persona oscillates between bravado and vulnerability. “I’m the greatest poet,” he quips with a grin—only to retract with a shrug in the next breath, “No, I’m an idiot.” The line between jest and confession blurs. It’s this constant tension—between confidence and self-doubt, performance and honesty—that makes him so captivating. Matty Healy was born for the stage, but it’s his disbelief in his own myth that makes the myth so powerful.
Critics often compare him to rock legends—Jagger, Iggy Pop, maybe even Bowie—but the truth is, Healy defies easy classification. He’s original, carving out a space that feels entirely his own. Perhaps the closest parallel is Marc Bolan, who stunned a generation with “Ride a White Swan,” opening the doors for glam rock and gender fluid performance styles. Bolan didn’t just sing songs—he shaped culture. Healy is doing the same, one provocative, glittering, gut-punch of a show at a time.
Musically, The 1975 occupy a unique space in modern rock. Their sound is a kaleidoscope—one moment polished pop, the next raw post-punk, with forays into jazz, soul, and experimental electronica. Healy’s songwriting is equally diverse. At times playful and catchy, at others profound and searching, he writes like someone trying to make sense of the world in real time. His voice—distinctly androgynous—is now fully formed. It’s a sound that feels both masculine and feminine, emotionally expressive without relying on the grit or aggression often associated with male rock vocalists.
Unlike performers such as Eminem or Macklemore, who often lean on female vocalists to soften or elevate their songs, Healy’s voice stands entirely on its own. There’s no need for a counterbalance. His vocal tone is rich, resonant, and complete. If a perfectly dressed salad needed no extra dressing, then Healy’s voice is that seasoned dish—balanced, flavorful, and satisfying all on its own.
And while Matty Healy is the band’s lightning rod, The 1975 is far more than just one man. The musicianship within the group is extraordinary. Drummer George Daniel is a master of rhythm—an innovator whose work deserves to be ranked alongside legends like Keith Moon and Ginger Baker. His beats are not just background; they are the spine of every song. Then there’s saxophonist John Waugh, whose solos are so expressive and vital that it’s easy to imagine David Bowie himself swooping in to steal him for a side project. Guitarist Adam Hann is no less impressive, crafting intricate textures and soaring riffs that elevate every performance.
1975 Drummer George Danielles a drummer for the hall of fame .
Together, they’re a cohesive force, a band in the truest sense. At Glastonbury, they played not like hired hands or background musicians, but like brothers—a family bound by the music they make. It was Healy, of course, who brought them all together, and it is his vision that they continue to follow. But it’s the synergy of all four that gives the band its power.
The 1975
The Glastonbury crowd, thousands strong, didn’t just watch—they listened. When Healy pleaded with them to “be kind” and to “make a difference,” they responded not with cheers but with thoughtful silence, a stillness that only true impact can elicit. Few performers have that kind of power. It’s the rare ability to hush a festival crowd, not with volume but with vulnerability.
And already, there are imitators—artists scrambling to mimic his stage presence, his fashion, his lyrical style. We won’t name names—let’s be kind, as Healy would urge—but the influence is undeniable. The 1975 are not just leading; they’re redefining the genre.
As the final chords rang out into the Glastonbury night, one thing became clear: this was a moment that would be remembered. The band could have easily played for another hour, and no one would have left. But sometimes, leaving them wanting more is the mark of a true master. And Matty Healy, for all his self-doubt and sarcasm, is exactly that—a master performer, a cultural touchstone, and yes, perhaps the Pied Piper of modern rock.
The world will keep watching. The arenas will fill. And The 1975 will continue to evolve, to provoke, and to inspire. Glastonbury may be behind them, but their story is far from over.
END
Why The 1975 and Matty Healy Support LGBTQ+ Rights and Fund Them
In an era where performative allyship is all too common in pop culture, The 1975 have carved out a reputation for genuine advocacy—particularly when it comes to LGBTQ+ rights. Fronted by the passionate and outspoken Matty Healy, the Manchester-based band not only vocalizes support but backs it with real action and funding.
Healy and his bandmates—George Daniels, Adam Hann, and Ross MacDonald—aren’t just a group with a large LGBTQ+ following; they’ve actively embraced and empowered the community. Their hit “Loving Someone” has become something of a modern gay anthem, resonating deeply with queer fans for its themes of identity, love, and resistance to conformity.
But their commitment goes well beyond lyrics. In a tangible display of support, The 1975 donated £16,000 to help create an LGBTQ+ centre in London—a meaningful contribution aimed at fostering safe spaces and community resources. As Healy himself said, “You might wonder why this is needed and ask what exactly everyone is still scared of, but sadly stigma still exists.” It’s clear he understands the ongoing challenges faced by LGBTQ+ individuals and refuses to remain silent.
Healy’s activism isn’t just about charity—it’s also about calling out injustices. At the BRIT Awards, he used his platform to highlight misogyny in the music industry, quoting journalist Laura Snapes to critique the double standards applied to male and female artists. This kind of intersectional awareness is why his advocacy rings true.
Part of Healy’s inclusive worldview stems from his upbringing. With a gay icon for a mother—actress Denise Welch—and a father known for playing drag characters on TV, he grew up immersed in queer culture. Labels never mattered in his household, and that open-mindedness clearly carries into both his personal life and public platform.
What truly sets The 1975 apart, though, is how authentic and accessible they remain despite global fame. Backstage at a packed O2 concert, Healy was more concerned about making sure a guest had a drink than what he was going to wear on stage. That sincerity, that desire to connect rather than dominate, defines their relationship with fans—especially LGBTQ+ fans who have long searched for artists that don’t just exploit queer culture but stand alongside it.
In short, The 1975 aren’t just the band everyone’s talking about because of their catchy songs or chart success. They matter because they’re using their platform with genuine purpose—offering representation, safe spaces, and support for those who need it most.
2Shades meets husband and husband team Tiano. The London cabaret duo of Christopher Hamilton and Shimi Goodman
It is an almost unthinkable scenario that Liberace and Pavarotti had secret love children, let alone that those children went on to inherit their fathers’ talents!
Described in one five star review
Then they met one another, fell deeply in love and married. Well, you would be forgiven for thinking just that, as married couple Chris Hamilton (Piano) and Shimi Goodman (Tenor) take to the stage to perform to a sell-out audience of dedicated fans
2Shades wanted to know more about the boys and we fired some questions at them.
What are you both doing for Christmas?
It’s all very glamorous! We will be performing on a six star luxury cruise ship called the Silver Muse sailing from Melbourne, Australia to Auckland, New Zealand. But before jetting off to the other side of the world we have our Christmas show at the Crazy Coqs in London which sold out pretty much minutes after we announced it during our last show there. We are so grateful to all the people who keep coming to our shows in London and elsewhere.
What four Christmas songs would you sing at a Christmas Concert and why?
Oh Holy Night – This song really fits our style of music as it is a classical song but has been covered by the likes of Mariah Carey, the Queen of Christmas. Shimi particularly enjoys singing it as it really taps into the classical genre which he loves.
All I Want for Christmas – Speaking of Miss Carey, this song is unavoidable during the festive period so although it’s done to death, it would be Scrooge like not to sing it.
All I Want for Christmas is for Someone to Cancel It – To counteract the Christmas schmaltz and to honour all grinches out there, Chris wrote this tongue in cheek, irreverent song himself. If you can’t make it to our Christmas show, you can hear this song on YouTube.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas – It’s such a bitter sweet moment when Judy Garland sings this beautiful song in the 1944 film Meet Me in St. Louis. It makes most people feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
When did you both know you loved each other?
We met at Guildford School of Acting in 2000 and it was something like love at first sight over a jacket potato in Cathy’s Cafe!
What is the most romantic gift you bought each other?
Shimi: Chris always wanted to go on the Orient Express. His birthday is in December and after a bit of research I discovered to my dismay that the train wasn’t active during the winter. I had to break it to him that it wouldn’t happen for a certain big birthday of his but then a few weeks before his birthday he saw an advert online saying that the Orient Express had started a winter journey. I quickly booked it and we travelled from Paris to Vienna overnight. The train was relatively empty and it was magical looking out of the window watching the snowy scenery whilst being treated like royalty! We had the pleasure of jamming with an amazing Italian jazz group until the early hours. Even the waiters started filming us! We stayed at the famous Sacher Wien hotel when we reached our final destination. We went to see an opera and walked around the Christmas markets. Very memorable.
Chris: I always knew how much Shimi loves the movie franchise Back to The Future or indeed anything to do with the 1980s, so for one of his birthdays following a tasting menu dinner (which I absolutely hate) at a brand new restaurant in Covent Garden I got us top tickets to the West End musical. He knew all the text by heart.
The festival of lights Hanukkah is a big holiday. How do you both celebrate that? Is there a song that jumps to mind?
Shimi: I love Hanukkah. We light the hanukkiah which is an eight stemmed candelabra. You light a candle for every day of the holiday and eat sufganiyot which are yummy jam doughnuts. My favourite song is Maoz Tzur or Rock of Ages as it is known in English.
When did you both last laugh together?
Every day. We have our own silly sense of humour and can find the humour in most situations.
What are your wishes for 2025?
There’s a lyric in one of our original songs which says: “Music can heal and make it a better day”. We truly believe that it can, so we wish for our music to reach more and more people around the world and to keep travelling and entertaining. We would love to perform in America. Chris did a series of cabarets in New York a while back so it would be good for Tiano to take the States by storm! We’re currently in talks to hopefully make this happen during the next couple of years.
Who would you most like to work with in the music industry?
Barbra Streisand and Shirley Bassey are two of our idols. It would be an absolute dream to perform with them. We also love a Welsh singer called Ellen Williams and would love to collaborate with her. One of our songs “It’s Not Goodbye” would be a beautiful duet for her and Shimi.
Who is the best cook?
Shimi does most of the cooking when we’re home. But Chris makes a mean chilli con carne named “the famous” because he only cooks it once a year but when he does people rave about it. Whether they’re raving about the dish or the fact he’s actually put an apron on is anyone’s guess….
Tell our readers what you can expect from a Tiano concert.
Every show we put on in London is different for a couple of reasons. Firstly, we owe it to our loyal supporters to present different music to keep each performance fresh. Secondly, it challenges us as artists to keep learning new material. For instance at Crazy Coqs in Piccadilly, London we’ve become known for presenting a ten minute medley at each show which is devoted to a decade (for example the 80’s), an artist (for instance Whitney Houston), or perhaps a movie musical (maybe Dirty Dancing which incidentally Shimi performed in in the West End). It’s always challenging arranging and rehearsing an intricate medley of songs with constant key changes and mood changes and then performing it for a live audience for the very first time without looking at lyrics or music. However, it’s so worthwhile because the audience has come to really appreciate this moment in the show. In the last two shows people loved singing along during our medley devoted to The Carpenters and at our most recent one, ABBA. We spend all that time on each ten minute set piece and only perform it once!
Chris is a multi award winning composer and lyricist so we always share music he has written which once again the audience usually loves. Chris recently released an album of his very mellow original piano pieces called Sempre Piano (you can listen to it on Spotify). It’s so gratifying to see an audience respond so favourably to these moments of calm when he shares one of these pieces during a show. Shimi has also co written a few songs with Chris, a couple of which are on their debut album Tiano which you can also hear on Spotify. They have become firm favourites with the audience.
We put so much thought into our programme with the hope of taking our audience on a real journey. You’ll laugh, cry, sing along and leave our show with a big smile on your face!
It is my favourite time of year, and the incredible Autism’s Got Talent is back.
Since its inception by Dr. Anna Kennedy OBE in 2012, Autism’s Got Talent has evolved into a legendary showcase that shines a spotlight on the unique talents of individuals living with autism. This one-of-a-kind event has captivated audiences and received high-profile media attention for over a decade, setting itself apart from other talent shows by offering an evening filled with surprises, inspiration, and diverse performances. Hosted at the renowned Mermaid Theatre in Blackfriars, the 2024 edition promises to be another unforgettable celebration of talent and inclusion
Steven Smith chats to 2Shades columnist and founder of Anna Kennedy on line
Unlike conventional talent competitions, Autism’s Got Talent is dedicated to celebrating neurodiversity and empowering autistic individuals of all ages. The show features a star-studded lineup of performers, including singers, dancers, actors, musicians, poets, magicians, and more. These gifted artists not only entertain but also challenge perceptions and break down barriers, demonstrating what people with autism can achieve. This event serves as a platform to replace stereotypes with messages of hope, fun, laughter, and inclusion, making it truly unique on the global stage.
This year proved to be a show-stopping extravaganza with over 17 acts.
The show was opened by Dr. Anna Kennedy as she introduced well-wishes from Loose Women star Denise Welch, Blue band icon Anthony Costa, EastEnders actress Kacey Ainsworth, and the legendary Carol Vorderman. Celebrities such as ‘Allo ‘Allo!’s Vicki Michelle, Pet Rescue author Wendy Turner, Taino’s Christopher Hamilton, and performer Tru Blue were among some of the showbiz names that turned out to introduce the evening’s performers.
Allo Allo Vicki Michelle and the inspirational Lisa Allen from Pink Ribbon foundation
Comperes for the evening were Gateway Radio DJ and Ambassador of the charity, Aston Avery, along with former The People’s Strictly contestant and amateur dramatic theatre enthusiast Phillip Barnett.
Christopher Hamilton
Pineapple Dance studio lead by teacher Maggie Paterson who have supported the event from the start team of 40 dancers
Gateways radio DJ Aston Avery one of the presenters of AGT “Autistic and Proud ”
This year’s acts, who travelled from far and wide, did not disappoint. It kicked off with Alba Pulido Brocklebank’s stunning rendition of Burn. There were so many outstanding acts this year, it is hard to highlight them all. From guitar supremo Caydian Evans, who described the experience as an amazing, unique opportunity, to father-and-son team Aaron and Andy Clark, who said, “This is a memory that will last a lifetime, and we are deeply grateful for the opportunity.”
Caydian Evans
Northern Ireland seemed to feature prominently this year with two singers: Andrew McMurdie, who said, “There were so many uniquely talented people in one room, like I have never seen before,” and Ty Williams, who brought the house down.
Somerset singer Lianne Vessier was blown away by the diversity of the event, and the standing ovation for her performance left us all in awe.
Lianne Vessier
Stepping in at the last minute was Swaran Hayer, who dazzled the audience with his calendar skills (even revealing Anna Kennedy’s age and date of birth!). His mum, Mandy, said, “It will forever be an unforgettable and memorable experience.”
Theatre group True Colours had the audience cheering as well.
True Colours
Anna Kennedy, founder of Anna Kennedy Online and Autism’s Got Talent, shares her hopes for the event: “We aim to continue to build Autism’s Got Talent year by year. We want all those involved to have fun, do what they love, make friends, be themselves, and have one night that is all about them.” This ethos of inclusion and empowerment continues to drive the event’s growth and inspire its participants.
Tears of joy marked the end of the show, with all the wonderful performers on stage, proud parents, families, and friends in the audience.
They all had one message for the AKO family: “You’re all amazing, and we all rock!”
With allegations of sexual abuse against pop stars, actors and high-profile business people at an all-time high, Steven Smith looks back at his own experiences as a 16-year-old on the celebrity party circuit in the late 70s. He asks whether society at the time was just as much to blame for the exploitation of teenagers as those that are having the finger pointed at them.
It’s a Monday morning. I’m at Soho Gym in Covent Garden and I’m working out. My book It Shouldn’t Happen to a Hairdresserhas been out for a month now. It’s my autobiography and follows my journey from coming out at 16 to tending to the hair of the rich and famous around the world. Though now I work mainly in the media, I still keep my scissors handy.
The book has caused quite a stir and there’s been a lot of press. Many are asking who the pop star was that seduced me when I was 16.
Wanna buy it? Link at the bottom of this article.
I decline to answer. It was not something I wanted to talk about further, plus, having worked for the tabloids for over a decade, I knew exactly where that conversation would lead. Having been harmlessly misquoted in some of the papers (one claimed that I hung out with Madonna), I still knew that interviews were a road that needed to be trodden carefully.
My phone goes. It’s a lady agent friend of mine who has been quite supportive in promoting the book.
“Hello darling. I simply couldn’t put the book down, it’s marvellous.”
She goes on to ask how the book is doing and who could imagine how difficult Katie Price could be. We both laugh, but then we get to the reason for the call.
“Darling, who was that awful pop star that seduced an innocent 16-year-old you?”
Innocent! Back in the late 70s, 16 was more like 20. Now, it’s not something that I felt was integral to my life and I won’t be naming him. But it was important to my story in the book. The gist of the call is she thinks that I should chat with one of her clients, a gorgeous police officer called Dan Neal. It could be beneficial to us both – he had read the book and was branching into showbiz.
My agent friend had always been good to me, so I agreed. Almost immediately, Dan called. He was involved with the Jimmy Saville inquiry and was making quite a name for himself (he later went on to marry Rylan Clark). Charming and full of life. He said how much he had enjoyed the book. But then came the cough!
“The pop star who seduced you when you were sixteen, would you name him?”
“No”, I replied quickly.
Dan asked if he could hazard a guess. Judging by the tennis courts in my description, was it —– ? I had heard that they were after this particular person, and funnily enough, I had met him. And a more asexual but charming person you could not want to meet. (Although rumours of his early years hold that he was rampant – but not with young men.)
“No, it was not.”
He went on about his duty to uncover these people.
Cutting Dan off, I pointed out that I was not about to be induced to join a witch hunt. There was a big difference between boys and girls who had been groomed (or been downright taken advantage of) and the youths who attended parties and venues dressed like they were in their twenties, who were desperate to bag a pop star or anyone in the limelight. Back in the 70s, 16-years-olds were very independent, with some passing themselves off as 20-something.
Many of them only seem to have decided they were taken advantage of after the star has died or when they’re in their late 50’s, when many (I’ve found, having done research) have money problems.
In the late 70s no-one asked for ID or carried it. We grew up in an era when, as soon as you could carry a bag of newspapers, you had a job as a paperboy. I was working at ten.
Benny Hill chasing a woman dressed as a schoolgirl around the garden and Barbara Windsor being sexually harassed dressed as a nurse in the “Carry On” films was acceptable in comedy, and for many in the UK (and the US) it still is.
Your correspondent 40 years ago.
When I was 16 the club to go to was BANGS! On Tottenham Court Road on Monday nights, Donna Summer blasted from the speakers and we dressed to impress. We danced on the stage as the beautiful, gay, stylish and soon-to-be famous mingled in an electric atmosphere.
There was a whole group of lads and lasses aged 15-16 who lived for Monday night. It was not unusual to be approached, asked to come to other parties or asked out.
A young air steward invited me to a party one night. It was being held the following Sunday and he said that a car would be sent for me. He wouldn’t tell me whose home it was but said it would be great fun. He was very cute, and Sundays were boring.
I slipped out on the Sunday from my parents’ home and picked up the car at the end of the road, where the steward was waiting with the driver. As we reached the destination, I was stunned by what I saw – it was the most magnificent house, more of a mansion really, with fake butler and maid statues to greet you in the huge entrance hall. It was like nothing I had ever seen before.
We parked the car around the back of the house and went to meet our host on the tennis court. I was shocked when I saw who he was – he had played with one of my favourite bands when I was growing up and here he was, greeting me on his tennis court! He was down to earth and seemed genuinely interested in me. Before long we ended up in his disco, where the cocktails flowed. And so did some other things. Some of the other guests offered me cocaine and laughed when I refused.
Not changed a bit
“Hey, have you brought a good kid to the party?” they asked.
Nevertheless, one too many gin and tonics and as Dorothy Parker said, I ended up under the host. Still, it was a great day, and I went home with my host’s autograph. That was enough excitement for me.
As he brought me home, the steward suggested I might like to meet other friends of his and intimated that it could be quite profitable for me. But I was streetwise beyond my 16 years and said no, thanks.
So, I was somewhat surprised when I received a call from the star’s right-hand man asking me to come down again, which I did. I found myself liking the guy, who even played a song for me on his piano, across from his statues of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
Really, I preferred T-Rex. He sent cars for me several times and we even watched a movie in his cinema room.
He only stopped sending for me after I told him that I’d mentioned the visits to my family. He almost passed out! After all, I was still only 16. This, despite me pointing out that I’d been in the theatre and it wouldn’t seem unusual that I was hanging out with the likes of him.
Still, much as his interest in me waned once he discovered that, he still invited me to the parties. They were great fun and he always got me home safely.
All these years later, though, whenever I smell Opium perfume, I think of him. The fragrance filled the bathrooms in his fabulous house and I even bought some for my mother that Christmas.
One of the most wonderful moments was when a famous pop manager held a boat party along the Thames for his birthday and Freddie Mercury and Kenny Everett were among the many celebrity guests. It was a dream come true and all I did was dance the afternoon away.
I was even hired briefly at the Embassy Club (in shorts).
With no age check.
Other parties were not so innocent. (Let’s not get started on the famous journalist with the three-way mirror whose parties hosted many a squaddie, some of whom went on to appear in the work of Mike Arlen (a gay photographer).
But I was lucky there was always an out. So, I never felt trapped or taken advantage of.
Of course, if I felt like playing victim I could rewrite this story in a different colour.
Many of the boys at the parties have passed on with HIV or disappeared. One or two I still bump into, and they talk of the good old times.
I’m sure that some may have regretted the follies of youth and even feel like they had been taken advantage of. But we can’t just blame the celebrities. The ’70s was a time that allowed freedom for the young and sexually promiscuous behaviour was rife.
Only when my nephew turned 16 I looked at his face. Suddenly it hit me how wrong the pop star and others were .
Luckily, we have ID now and people check. I feel great empathy with those that have been hurt. But regarding those who, in their teens, labelled themselves groupies, only to say many decades later they were victims, responsibility must lie with more than one party.
There is a difference between the casting couch, grooming – and dressing up, passing yourself off as older and consenting to things.
Why I am with Esther Rantzen when it comes to euthanasia being allowed in the UK
Inspirational Esther Rantzen and the incredible Martin Annand
News of the controversial suicide pod being used for the first time in Switzerland really caught my attention. The device allows the person in it to take their own life by pressing a button. The concern, even in Switzerland where euthanasia is legal, is that the pod functions without medical assistance.
It also triggered a memory of when I was asked to take a friend to Switzerland, and I nearly did…
It was a beautiful sunny day and my former partner, of twenty years and friend for twenty more Martin Annand and I were sitting in the leafy London Garden opposite where he lived.
He squeezed my hand and said,
“Steven, please take me to Switzerland, let’s arrange it today.”
The wonderful Martin Annand RIP 20th Of February 1944 – 9th of August 2021
We had been up most of the night. Martin had been in agony; he was terminally ill with cancer that had moved into the spine. He had sailed through hormone treatment and apart from the odd hiccup, chemotherapy had been giving us hope that a miracle would happen or at least extended his life, but we had had some bad news, and the chemotherapy had stopped working. He had moved on to radiotherapy and that was a whole new ball game. The illness was turning him quickly into a shell of himself.
Coming soon.
Helping was a battle as his new partner was unreasonable, a bully and often hysterical. I was up against people who were all “experts. A distant relative thought running a ball up and down his spine and getting him to exercise was good, but would not look at the actual fact that it was the worst thing you could do for cancer in the spine.
All through his illness I was absolutely determined to stay stoic and a rock, not the hysterical mess I was in private. Too often I have seen people make their friend or partner’s illness be about them, with the poor soul consoling them. Now his current partner had taken two weeks holiday and reluctantly left me to look after him. It was an ideal time to take Martin to Switzerland.
However, it was hard at this point to hold back the tears.
“Is that what you really want?” I asked him.
He had clearly done his homework and knew the price and exactly where to go. Pulling myself together and looking into his beautiful blue eyes I promised I would if he just gave it one more week. The doctors had said at the Royal Brompton that the night burns were quite a common side effect that should pass.
Holding him in the shower and as he lay shaking in bed, I would have done anything to ease his pain. Assurances that this phase would pass, and that the treatment would allow him more time encouraged us to push on.
To this day I am so sorry that I did not take him whilst he could still get on a plane. The horror that he endured no human being should go through. Why do we let a dog in distress die in dignity, yet our loves ones have to suffer? The religious right will tell you It is not God’s wish. Some God if he wants us to suffer.
“Suffer to come unto me “. Well, I cannot make sense of that. It is time to allow those with no hope of living without excruciating pain to die on their own terms.
By the second week it was too painful for Martin to travel in a taxi let alone fly. Then the current partner arrived back, and all was lost on the idea of euthanasia.
When there really is no hope, it is time to be kind and allow the terminally sick some release. Next time someone I love asks me, I’ll do it on the spot. I truly hope that if I were in that much pain with no chance of recovery that someone would do the same for me.
Me with Martin Annand a man who lived life to its full
If there is one thing that bemuses me it’s being put in a box because of my sexuality.
As a gay man I have heard it all over the years, including the presumption that I must be filled with excitement that Kylie is touring next year. No! I honestly would not cross the road to watch her, and I find “Padam Padam” one of the most irritating songs of all time.
Sure, she has a huge gay following. I remember two gay men jumping with excitement in the changing room of the gym exclaiming, “Oh my God we are seeing Kyle tonight, she’s such a survivor! ” And that was before the breast cancer. I have heard she is a lovely person, but she’s just not my taste in music.
Later at the Troubadour café the waiter enquired if me and my partner were going to see Kylie. After replying definitely not, he smiled and said, “Good to hear it, have a drink on me!”
Sure, I like Madonna; she is a true artist. Now Bowie, Lou Reed, Nina Simon or a night at the Royal Opera are my tastes in music.
What I am excited about is Oasis coming back. Liam Gallagher is brightly funny and a night out with him would be way up on my list rather than the gay Divas of music. Oasis marks an era, and a generation of people want to celebrate the band and re- live that experience for just for one night.
Their music is original, and they are a dying breed of rock star. The Manchester lads may not be the wild boys of the past, but every time Liam pops up on a show, he makes me laugh and he is by far a much better interview than most.
That’s what entertainment is all about. My friend Pam I know not to dare ring during the football or come to that rugby, cricket, darts season, tiddlywinks… If for a moment music, sport or something else can transport you to a happy place or bring a beautiful memory back to life for you, then whatever gives you that enjoyment is your business.
I, of course, respect everyone who can’t get Kylie “out of their head”, but come on, Liam and Noel are really something to get excited about.
Yes, it is that time of year again so please come see me and 2shades columnist Dr Anna Kennedy OBE on 12th October at the Mermaid theatre. Gateways Radio Aston Avery will be one of the main presenters introducing some incredible acts.
This star-studded spectacular show will showcase amazingly talented performances by adults and children with autism. The performers, which consist of singers, actors, musicians, magicians, poets and dance troupes, will fly the flag for autism and show what people with autism are capable of. Autism’s Got Talent provides a platform and fantastic opportunity to replace negative aspects with hope, fun, laughter and inclusion. This showcase is unique to any other project across the world.
Most of the acts have springboarded into exclusive opportunities. The audience feels a rare emotion of hope and belonging, part of a unique network, and understanding that anything is possible. Every year promises a showcase of a wide variety of performers. In previous years, there has been a stand-up performer, harpist, rapper, young author, acclaimed ballet dancer, opera singer.
Presenting this year Aston Avery Gateway radio host .
The concept of Autism’s Got Talent is based solely on inclusion, and there needs to be more, which is why we have started roadshows. Autism’s Got Talent is an annual event that grows in popularity each year and has firmly cemented its status as a leading charity and autism event.
Dr Anna Kennedy OBE and me .
Supported in the past by celebrities including Kacey Ainsworth, Richard Mylan, Dame Esther Rantzen, Carrie and David Grant, Debbie Moore OBE, the late Ian Royce, Dr Pam Spurr, Mitch Winehouse, Loose Women Star Denise Welch, Caprice, Luke Friend, Tony Discipline (BBC Eastenders), and Emma Noble.
With allegations of sexual abuse against pop stars, actors and high-profile business people at an all-time high, Steven Smith looks back at his own experiences as a 16-year-old on the celebrity party circuit in the late 70s.
He asks whether society at the time was just as much to blame for the exploitation of teenagers as those that are having the finger pointed at them.
Wanna buy it? Link at the bottom of this article.
It’s a Monday morning. I’m working out. My book It Shouldn’t Happen to a Hairdresserhas been out for a month now. It’s my autobiography and follows my journey from coming out at 16 to tending to the hair of the rich and famous around the world. Though now I work mainly in the media, I still keep my scissors handy.
The book has caused quite a stir and there’s been a lot of press. Many are asking who the pop star was that seduced me when I was 16.
I decline to answer. It was not something I wanted to talk about further, plus, having worked for the tabloids for over a decade, I knew exactly where that conversation would lead. Having been harmlessly misquoted in some of the papers (one claimed that I hung out with Madonna), I still knew that interviews were a road that needed to be trodden carefully.
My phone goes. It’s a lady agent friend of mine who has been quite supportive in promoting the book.
“Hello darling. I simply couldn’t put the book down, it’s marvellous.”
She goes on to ask how the book is doing and who could imagine how difficult Katie Price could be. We both laugh, but then we get to the reason for the call.
“Darling, who was that awful pop star that seduced an innocent 16-year-old you?”
Back in the late 70s, 16 was more like 20. Now, it’s not something that I felt was integral to my life and I won’t be naming him. But it was important to my story in the book. The gist of the call is she thinks that I should chat with one of her clients, a gorgeous police officer called Dan Neal. It could be beneficial to us both – he had read the book and was branching into showbiz.
My agent friend had always been good to me, so I agreed. Almost immediately, Dan called. He was involved with the Jimmy Saville inquiry and was making quite a name for himself (he later went on to marry Rylan Clark). Charming and full of life. He said how much he had enjoyed the book. But then came the cough!
“The pop star who seduced you when you were sixteen, would you name him?”
“No”, I replied quickly.
Dan asked if he could hazard a guess. Judging by the tennis courts in my description, was it —– ? I had heard that they were after this particular person, and funnily enough, I had met him. And a more asexual but charming person you could not want to meet. (Although rumours of his early years hold that he was rampant – but not with young men.)
“No, it was not.”
He went on about his duty to uncover these people.
Cutting Dan off, I pointed out that I was not about to be induced to join a witch hunt. There was a big difference between boys and girls who had been groomed (or been downright taken advantage of) and the youths who attended parties and venues dressed like they were in their twenties, who were desperate to bag a pop star or anyone in the limelight. Back in the 70s, 16-years-olds were very independent, with some passing themselves off as 20-something.
Many of them only seem to have decided they were taken advantage of after the star has died or when they’re in their late 50’s, when many (I’ve found, having done research) have money problems.
In the late 70s no-one asked for ID or carried it. We grew up in an era when, as soon as you could carry a bag of newspapers, you had a job as a paperboy. I was working at ten.
Benny Hill chasing a woman dressed as a schoolgirl around the garden and Barbara Windsor being sexually harassed dressed as a nurse in the “Carry On” films was acceptable in comedy, and for many in the UK (and the US) it still is.
Your correspondent 40 years ago.
When I was 16 the club to go to was BANGS! On Tottenham Court Road on Monday nights, Donna Summer blasted from the speakers and we dressed to impress. We danced on the stage as the beautiful, gay, stylish and soon-to-be famous mingled in an electric atmosphere.
There was a whole group of lads and lasses aged 15-16 who lived for Monday night. It was not unusual to be approached, asked to come to other parties or asked out.
A young air steward invited me to a party one night. It was being held the following Sunday and he said that a car would be sent for me. He wouldn’t tell me whose home it was but said it would be great fun. He was very cute, and Sundays were boring.
I slipped out on the Sunday from my parents’ home and picked up the car at the end of the road, where the steward was waiting with the driver. As we reached the destination, I was stunned by what I saw – it was the most magnificent house, more of a mansion really, with fake butler and maid statues to greet you in the huge entrance hall. It was like nothing I had ever seen before.
Not such a rocket man and for sure should not be a reference to anyones morals .
We parked the car around the back of the house and went to meet our host on the tennis court. I was shocked when I saw who he was – he had played with one of my favourite bands when I was growing up and here he was, greeting me on his tennis court! He was down to earth and seemed genuinely interested in me. Before long we ended up in his disco, where the cocktails flowed. And so did some other things. Some of the other guests offered me cocaine and laughed when I refused.
Not changed a bit
“Hey, have you brought a good kid to the party?” they asked.
Nevertheless, one too many gin and tonics and as Dorothy Parker said, I ended up under the host. Still, it was a great day, and I went home with my host’s autograph. That was enough excitement for me.
As he brought me home, the steward suggested I might like to meet other friends of his and intimated that it could be quite profitable for me. But I was streetwise beyond my 16 years and said no, thanks.
So, I was somewhat surprised when I received a call from the star’s right-hand man asking me to come down again, which I did. I found myself liking the guy, who even played a song for me on his piano, across from his statues of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
Really, I preferred T-Rex. He sent cars for me several times and we even watched a movie in his cinema room.
He only stopped sending for me after I told him that I’d mentioned the visits to my family. He almost passed out! After all, I was still only 16. This, despite me pointing out that I’d been in the theatre and it wouldn’t seem unusual that I was hanging out with the likes of him.
Still, much as his interest in me waned once he discovered that, he still invited me to the parties. They were great fun and he always got me home safely.
All these years later, though, whenever I smell Opium perfume, I think of him. The fragrance filled the bathrooms in his fabulous house and I even bought some for my mother that Christmas.
One of the most wonderful moments was when a famous pop manager held a boat party along the Thames for his birthday and Freddie Mercury and Kenny Everett were among the many celebrity guests. It was a dream come true and all I did was dance the afternoon away.
I was even hired briefly at the Embassy Club (in shorts).
With no age check.
Other parties were not so innocent. (Let’s not get started on the famous journalist with the three-way mirror whose parties hosted many a squaddie, some of whom went on to appear in the work of Mike Arlen (a gay photographer).
But I was lucky there was always an out. So, I never felt trapped or taken advantage of.
Of course, if I felt like playing victim I could rewrite this story in a different colour.
Many of the boys at the parties have passed on with HIV or disappeared. One or two I still bump into, and they talk of the good old times.
I’m sure that some may have regretted the follies of youth and even feel like they had been taken advantage of. But we can’t just blame the celebrities. The ’70s was a time that allowed freedom for the young and sexually promiscuous behaviour was rife.
Luckily, we have ID now and people check. I feel great empathy with those that have been hurt. But regarding those who, in their teens, labelled themselves groupies, only to say many decades later they were victims, responsibility must lie with more than one party.
There is a difference between the casting couch, grooming – and dressing up, passing yourself off as older and consenting to things.
Otherwise, it does turn into a witch hunt. It only really sunk in to what had been done to me all those years later , When I looked at my 16 year old Nephew . The thought I would kill anyone who touched him.
ABBA 'Thank You For The Music' a celebration at Spiritland Royal Festival Hall, London
Steven Smith gets his dancing shoes on and reviews ABBA Voyage
Yes, we certainly need a tonic right now for all. Prices are going through the roof and with a summer of elections it is going to be season of discontent.
What we need to take our minds off things is something that, long after you watched it, leaves you with a smile and lifts you. That is why entertainment was so important during the war and let’s face it, we are all battling every day.
“If you can make people laugh you give them a little vacation.” Winston Churchill.
What needs to be prescribed is ABBA Voyage at the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. For weeks before I went to see this immersive experience, terribly gifted writers and those in the arts seemed to struggle to vocalise what they had seen.
But whatever it was, rave reviews and statements like “The best night of my life” were being posted all over social media.
As I walked the fifteen minutes from Stratford station through the Olympic Park certainly no one ruined the surprise.
On your journey you are confronted by a sea of people steeped in ABBA Hysteria, many dressed as their heroes: Agnetha Falskog, Bjorn Ulvaeus, Benny Andersson and Anni-FridLyngstad.
Approaching the actual arena (specially made for the show), even if you’re not an ABBA fan, you’re not human if you’re not starting to smile a little. It is as if everyone has taken a happy pill. Even the security and arena staff are very friendly.
Safely inside, the excitement and energy was accelerating to the level of an explosion, as if your eyes were not able to take any more of this visual feast of the actual arena and those that paid to come see the show.
Your brain goes straight into explode mode when the lights dim and the Swedish forest screen lifts and four virtual ABBAtars take to the stage. So convincing is the entire thing I was left breathless for a moment as I was not sure what was real and what was not. A little like the “The Houses of Parliament”.
ABBA last played in London for seven nights in 1979. I promise you truly it could not have been better than this. Stunning light affects dazzle the 3000 capacity room. A very much real 10-piece band dazzle the filled room.
This is so real they even have short interlude videos for the band to change. Andersson, Fältskog, Björn Ulvaeus and Anni-Frid Lyngstad danced across the giant stage, embraced each other.
They laughed about their 1974 Eurovision outfits and the UK giving them zero points. When they appeared in huge proportions on the big screens they had the mildest plasticine quality, but otherwise they were astonishingly real.
They did most of the hits, of course, and the best two from last year’s surprise comeback album. As you would expect, the arena erupted when “Dancing Queen” was performed.
Just as you thought there were no more surprises left, ABBA walks on as they are now, as they did on opening night. I think it might have been holograms a few weeks in.
For days afterwards this extraordinary experience had me smiling. God knows we all need that right now. There is only one problem with prescribing ABBA Voyage to everyone. The price this venture needs to rake in is £140 million to break even, with some tickets at £195.
“Money, Money, Money” it is rich man’s show. Dance floor tickets at £50 are more affordable but sell like hot seats. To be honest I never sat down for long enough that night, being a real “Dancing Queen”.
It is fast becoming a world of advanced technology. Just think, with the ABBA voyage, we can not only tell our grand kids how good some bands were, we can actually show them, and dear old dame Elton can take a rest.
As I was complaining to a regular theatre going friend about the West End prices of some shows and my need to see one show, he replied “It’s twice as good as it is hyped, The Choir of Man, easily the best show in the West End and does not cost a King’s ransom to see.”
Truth be told it was a show that was not on my radar and hadn’t appealed to me. One rainy Saturday we took a chance and managed to grab the last two seats with my room- mate. The atmosphere seemed exciting enough on arrival with an eclectic audience. Many were repeat viewers; sitting next to me was an excited lady who had seen the show 12 times and was there with her friend, who was quoted as a “virgin” to the whole thing.
This is the second time around in the West End for “The Choir of Man” and playing at one of my favourite theatres, The Arts. There is something about this show that makes you smile from the minute you sit down. Audience members are even asked pre-show to join the 9 cast members on the stage set, a pub called “The Jungle”.
There is no complicated plot to the “The Choir of man “. It is this simple: 9 of the regular customers come together to tell stores and sing songs.
I know, it does not sound like my cup of tea (or pint of bitter) either.
However, there is a lot more to this gem of a show that will have you shouting “no” to closing time. It challenges stereo-types and pulls you into a really feel-good show that will have you not only smiling but wanting to go back for more. In fact, my roommate went back a few weeks later.
The 9 man cast of Choir of Man
Each of the 9 cast members has a story to tell and as the show goes on, they unravel more of their tales with names like the Romantic and the Beast; you quickly identify with them. This gives a sense of intimacy which allows you to enjoy the show but also get to know the real people behind the roles and champion them.
The Choir of Man title might be a little misleading as it not religious or that type of music. It is the very best of vocal talent brought together.
It is hard to sit in your seat as you want to jump up and join in with numbers such as Queen’s “Somebody to love” and Paul Simon’s “5O Ways to Leave your Lover”.
The song and dance number will simply blow you away. The absolute highlight was the ‘a cappella’ rendition of Adele’s “Hello”. If there was ever a reason to go back this was it. It even has a feel of immersed theatre with audience members pulled up to join in.
What makes this show so special is that it challenges what we may think a man is which I really appreciated, having written a lot recently about breaking the “Boys do not cry” mould. This is a show that presents all aspects of men and serves it up in a pint glass for all to see. For sure I will be getting another round in at “The Jungle “soon,
2Shades Magazine 