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Brit Awards continued: The Queen is TRIUMPHANT giving the performance of her life!


ryan

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My hubby bought me the papers this morning and I was shocked to find she was hardly mentioned and the fall wasn't in evidence. Some papers used her Grammy performance claiming it was the Brits!!! The reason obviously is that the papers have to be printed and she was last to perform. The later issues in London have Madonna on every cover and masses of coverage, but here in sleepy Devon we got a big fat nothing. I've had to find my poor fallen Madonna from other sources. I keep scrapbooks on her and have done since the 80s so this is yet another chapter to her life story.

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:D I got to work today and on my Pc the team had printed off the "SHES GONNA CARRY ON" pic from last night that I had on facebook.

Bless .

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The reason we "throw stones" is because it got many of us really worried for Madonna. Plus there are so many haters out there laughing. So at this point it's just inappropriate for fans here to disclose that they were laughing too. I love you and all, but I'm just a bit confused. Whatever, let's move on.

really don't care for haters and rarely read comments of losers on various sites...as i, i hope, explained, i was just happy that she was ok and i had a laugh during the performance....she killed it, as always, and i prefer, for how i am, having a laugh then staying anxious....in any situation....and i suggest to do the same...

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Guest groovyguy

OPINION: Why all those ‘Madonna is old’ jokes are weak and tired

http://attitude.co.uk/opinion-why-those-madonna-is-old-jokes-are-lame/

Among the jokes, memes and occasional expressions of genuine concern that flooded social media last night after Madonna’s nasty backwards tumble from the Brit awards stage, there was a depressingly common theme: Serves you right love. At your age? You should be watching from home under a knee rug with a nice cup of tea.

Some are even suggesting that the whole thing’s been an elaborate publicity stunt. Because obviously, having writhed around on stage in a wedding dress and pashed Britney, the logical next step would be to have a dancer yank you backwards by the neck down a flight of stairs for MAXIMUM ITUNES SALES.

This isn’t new territory for Madonna – in fact, just hours before the BRITs, Rolling Stone released a taster for their new interview with the Queen of Pop, in which she delivered an eloquent riposte to those who want her to sit down, cover up and shut up:

No one would dare to say a degrading remark about being black or dare to say a degrading remark on Instagram about someone being gay. But my age – anybody and everybody would say something degrading to me. And I always think to myself, why is that accepted? What’s the difference between that and racism, or any discrimination? They’re judging me by my age. I don’t understand. I’m trying to get my head around it. Because women, generally, when they reach a certain age, have accepted that they’re not allowed to behave a certain way. But I don’t follow the rules. I never did, and I’m not going to start.”

Even at the ripe old age of 32, she was being called upon to defend her continued existence - but the white noise about her age has reached fever pitch lately. There was her Grammys red carpet bum flash, earlier this month, again met with a rousing chorus of ‘Not at your age, love’.

But don’t we want our pop stars to be shocking, salacious, and just a little bit silly? And to paraphrase another popette currently facing the ageing process, we should be so lucky to have buttocks as taut and muscular as Madge’s when we stare down our 57th year on earth. Should I, you can all expect an invite to one of my twice-daily viewings. A squeeze costs extra.

Lest this turn into yet another fanboy rant, let us state the obvious: Madonna hasn’t exactly been the perfect pop star lately, and we’re certainly a long way from her Like A Prayer/Vogue imperial era.

Until the Grammys performance, her publicity strategy for new album Rebel Heart seemed to consist of making ill-advised social media posts, deleting them and apologising profusely. Her insistence that heroes of black culture like Martin Luther King and Bob Marley were true #RebelHearts meant for a while there, Madonna fans lived under the very real threat that we’d one morning open Instagram to find Madge declaring Rosa Parks the ‘original #unapologeticbitch’.

With that in mind, perhaps the fall – provided Madonna is actually OK (and she insists she is, as everyone must do while screaming internally after taking a big embarrassing public tumble) – could turn out to be the best thing that’s happened to her public image in years.

In the torturously long seconds that followed that nasty tumble, her fans held their collective breath. Is she ok? Is she going to get back up? When she did return to her feet, head held high, she was visibly rattled. It seemed clear she felt disappointed in herself – but she carried on. Madonna’s a showgirl, and she wants to entertain us. After all, it’s what she’s been doing for 30-odd years.

Maybe we needed Madonna to fall flat on her arse for us to realise: we’re not going to have her forever. Let’s treat her right.

- By NICK BOND.

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Maybe we needed Madonna to fall flat on her arse for us to realise: we’re not going to have her forever. Let’s treat her right.

- By NICK BOND.

I just want to print this out and staple it to several people's foreheads right now.

Thank you for this.

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Does anybody knows where we can catch the performance again ,it;s not on the Brit awards youtube page

Go back few pages. You should find the ultra hd of the perf.

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Tracey Thorn (Everything but the Girl) about the Brits and MADONNA.

I’ve come to the Brit Awards, dear reader, in order to bring you news from the World of Pop, intending to observe in a neutral and detached manner. Unlike Morrissey – complaining that week that “the Brit Awards have hi-jacked modern music in order to kill off the heritage that produced so many interesting people” – or Kasabian, who snarled that wins for Ed Sheeran would be a victory for squares, quaintly couching their objections in the language of a 1960’s Cliff Richard film, I come not to bury the Brits but to watch them in a mood of nostalgic curiosity. I’m revisiting a scene where in the past I have been both bored witless and riotously entertained, to see what’s happened in my entirely insignificant absence.

I was last here in 1996, the Year of Jarvis Cocker, when my band’s song “Missing” was up for Best Single; and the year before that, in 1995, at the height of the Blur/Oasis Wars, I was seated with Massive Attack, “Protection” being nominated for Best Album. Madonna performed that night. She’d recently recorded with them and it was the first time I heard anyone refer to her as “Madge”. (I assumed that Nellee and 3D and Mushroom and Daddy G, no slouches when it came to nicknames, had invented it themselves.) After the awards we went to her private party at Brown’s in Soho, within which inner sanctum was a sanctum even more inner, where a velvet rope fenced off the area containing actual Madonna, and a handful of Chosen Ones.

And now here I am again, after a twenty year gap, at an event that’s bigger, glitzier and more of a TV show than an actual awards ceremony, but what else has changed? Not the winners, who are as predictable as ever, chosen by a voting process about which everyone is suitably vague. Oh, it’s more or less whoever in any category has sold the most, or is the best, – look, let’s not dwell on it. Like old Tory leaders, the winners emerge. There are no surprises.

What is different is the atmosphere in the room, which partly reflects the atmosphere in pop music, and is created I think by the fact that there are no bands. Where it used to feel like a school canteen full of rival gangs, with warring factions shooting insults and dirty looks at each other, poised on the brink of a food fight, now it is a civilised dining room, all the nominees, like their fans, being much-Selfied and much-Liked individuals. Solo artists, islands. They sit not with their mates and partners-in-crime, but with their managers and pluggers, and all of them on good terms with the similar individuals at the next table.

There’s less camaraderie, and less rivalry, and the absence of both is what dulls the air.

Band camaraderie is infectious, and enlivens an audience – you want to be part of that gang, whether it’s the Rolling Stones or the Spice Girls, the Libertines or One Direction – and bitchy rivalry is entertaining. Blur vs Oasis was silly but funny. Now, admiration and respect are the order of the day. Sam loves James, Ed loves Sam, and everybody is Taylor’s best friend.

In short, nothing happens. Almost nothing. With my Mum-face on I think that Paloma Faith holding a microphone in the pouring rain is a health and safety nightmare, but it turns out that the accident waiting to happen is an unforeseen one, involving stairs, a cape and a dancing bull. Madonna falls over, giving the evening its longed-for news angle. Seated only yards from the stage I hear the crash as she goes down, most shocking of all being the heavy ker-THUMP of her mic hitting the floor. Golly, I think, that mic’s actually on. Not a given nowadays – and quite a thrill.

What is most remarkable though, and confirms everything I’ve ever thought about the indestructible will-to-power of Stars, is her recovery. Have you ever fallen flat on your back? I have once, on the slippery decking outside my back door, and on landing whiplashed and winded did what you would do, and burst into tears of self-pity. Which is why I’m not a global superstar with a decades-spanning career, and neither are you.

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really don't care for haters and rarely read comments of losers on various sites...as i, i hope, explained, i was just happy that she was ok and i had a laugh during the performance....she killed it, as always, and i prefer, for how i am, having a laugh then staying anxious....in any situation....and i suggest to do the same...

Well that's completely different. And btw I wasn't thinking of you when I agreed with a poster who said that anyone laughing at M falling should be flushed. I just agreed because it's nothing to laugh at. You know? But what you're saying is totally different. And I agree with you.

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I just read that myself and now I'm overwhelmed with tears. I wish she knew how much she means to me and even when I'm critical of her it comes from love not from hate. This fall could've been so much worse but thank god it wasn't the Angels were on her side. Now we need to carry on.

:)

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Tracey Thorn (Everything but the Girl) about the Brits and MADONNA.

What is most remarkable though, and confirms everything I’ve ever thought about the indestructible will-to-power of Stars, is her recovery. Have you ever fallen flat on your back? I have once, on the slippery decking outside my back door, and on landing whiplashed and winded did what you would do, and burst into tears of self-pity. Which is why I’m not a global superstar with a decades-spanning career, and neither are you.

Love Tracey, her book Bedsit Disco Queen is a great read!

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Guest whatatramp

Tracey Thorn (Everything but the Girl) about the Brits and MADONNA.

I’ve come to the Brit Awards, dear reader, in order to bring you news from the World of Pop, intending to observe in a neutral and detached manner. Unlike Morrissey – complaining that week that “the Brit Awards have hi-jacked modern music in order to kill off the heritage that produced so many interesting people” – or Kasabian, who snarled that wins for Ed Sheeran would be a victory for squares, quaintly couching their objections in the language of a 1960’s Cliff Richard film, I come not to bury the Brits but to watch them in a mood of nostalgic curiosity. I’m revisiting a scene where in the past I have been both bored witless and riotously entertained, to see what’s happened in my entirely insignificant absence.

I was last here in 1996, the Year of Jarvis Cocker, when my band’s song “Missing” was up for Best Single; and the year before that, in 1995, at the height of the Blur/Oasis Wars, I was seated with Massive Attack, “Protection” being nominated for Best Album. Madonna performed that night. She’d recently recorded with them and it was the first time I heard anyone refer to her as “Madge”. (I assumed that Nellee and 3D and Mushroom and Daddy G, no slouches when it came to nicknames, had invented it themselves.) After the awards we went to her private party at Brown’s in Soho, within which inner sanctum was a sanctum even more inner, where a velvet rope fenced off the area containing actual Madonna, and a handful of Chosen Ones.

And now here I am again, after a twenty year gap, at an event that’s bigger, glitzier and more of a TV show than an actual awards ceremony, but what else has changed? Not the winners, who are as predictable as ever, chosen by a voting process about which everyone is suitably vague. Oh, it’s more or less whoever in any category has sold the most, or is the best, – look, let’s not dwell on it. Like old Tory leaders, the winners emerge. There are no surprises.

What is different is the atmosphere in the room, which partly reflects the atmosphere in pop music, and is created I think by the fact that there are no bands. Where it used to feel like a school canteen full of rival gangs, with warring factions shooting insults and dirty looks at each other, poised on the brink of a food fight, now it is a civilised dining room, all the nominees, like their fans, being much-Selfied and much-Liked individuals. Solo artists, islands. They sit not with their mates and partners-in-crime, but with their managers and pluggers, and all of them on good terms with the similar individuals at the next table.

There’s less camaraderie, and less rivalry, and the absence of both is what dulls the air.

Band camaraderie is infectious, and enlivens an audience – you want to be part of that gang, whether it’s the Rolling Stones or the Spice Girls, the Libertines or One Direction – and bitchy rivalry is entertaining. Blur vs Oasis was silly but funny. Now, admiration and respect are the order of the day. Sam loves James, Ed loves Sam, and everybody is Taylor’s best friend.

In short, nothing happens. Almost nothing. With my Mum-face on I think that Paloma Faith holding a microphone in the pouring rain is a health and safety nightmare, but it turns out that the accident waiting to happen is an unforeseen one, involving stairs, a cape and a dancing bull. Madonna falls over, giving the evening its longed-for news angle. Seated only yards from the stage I hear the crash as she goes down, most shocking of all being the heavy ker-THUMP of her mic hitting the floor. Golly, I think, that mic’s actually on. Not a given nowadays – and quite a thrill.

What is most remarkable though, and confirms everything I’ve ever thought about the indestructible will-to-power of Stars, is her recovery. Have you ever fallen flat on your back? I have once, on the slippery decking outside my back door, and on landing whiplashed and winded did what you would do, and burst into tears of self-pity. Which is why I’m not a global superstar with a decades-spanning career, and neither are you.

oh I like this, M has said how much she likes Everything But The Girl in interviews if I remember?

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What is most remarkable though, and confirms everything I’ve ever thought about the indestructible will-to-power of Stars, is her recovery. Have you ever fallen flat on your back? I have once, on the slippery decking outside my back door, and on landing whiplashed and winded did what you would do, and burst into tears of self-pity. Which is why I’m not a global superstar with a decades-spanning career, and neither are you.

:clap: :clap: :clap: :clap: :clap:

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Tracey Thorn (Everything but the Girl) about the Brits and MADONNA.

In short, nothing happens. Almost nothing. With my Mum-face on I think that Paloma Faith holding a microphone in the pouring rain is a health and safety nightmare, but it turns out that the accident waiting to happen is an unforeseen one, involving stairs, a cape and a dancing bull. Madonna falls over, giving the evening its longed-for news angle. Seated only yards from the stage I hear the crash as she goes down, most shocking of all being the heavy ker-THUMP of her mic hitting the floor. Golly, I think, that mic’s actually on. Not a given nowadays – and quite a thrill.

What is most remarkable though, and confirms everything I’ve ever thought about the indestructible will-to-power of Stars, is her recovery. Have you ever fallen flat on your back? I have once, on the slippery decking outside my back door, and on landing whiplashed and winded did what you would do, and burst into tears of self-pity. Which is why I’m not a global superstar with a decades-spanning career, and neither are you.

:clap: :clap: :clap:

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The Talk opened their show with 10 full minutes of Madonna discussion. Even Sharon Osborne gave it up to Madonna and her professionalism, though some slightly snarky comments came midway through when they began discussing Madonna's quotes regarding ageism from the forthcoming issue of Rolling Stone.

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