It can only be a matter of days before the blather begins in earnest. Musical magpie Madonna plays Ireland this month, and there are still tickets available for her appearance by the banks of the Boyne. Quite a few, if the amount of ads on TV, radio and Dublin Bus are anything to go by.
Given that August really is an evil month for the newspaper business, we can expect gushing feature articles on Madge, in- depth profiles of the Material Girl, and loads and loads of space-fillers about that incredible feminist icon Mrs Guy Ritchie. You may even think that you are about to read one of these, but fear not.
Many in the ink business were predicting when tickets went on sale that this show would sell out in the time it takes to flutter your eyelashes and purr the chorus to Like a Virgin, which shows how little we know about the ticket business. After all, we journalists don't have to pay for our tickets, so what do we care? We just want to keep on the right side of the PR, so we simply get the press release about the fastest-selling gig ever, correct the grammar and send it on up the line.
But there are many reasons why the plain people of Ireland are still holding onto their wallets rather than flashing the cash to see this odd woman who wants to be simply known as Esther.
There's the fact that we have become a lot more picky when it comes to live music, some- thing all concert promoters have learnt in one way or another this summer. There's the fact that many now regard concert tickets as over-priced luxuries when compared to the long list of things which simply have to be paid for.
There's the fact that the lure of a big day out in Slane may not compensate for the hassle involved in getting to and from that blighted spot. There's the fact that the idea of a big day out in Slane ended the year they had The Stereophonics and their meat-and-two-spuds schlock as the main attraction.
There's the fact that the Madonna audience is not great at standing in fields. And there's the fact that, frankly, Madonna live is about as entertaining as a night out with Phil Coulter.
Over the course of her career, Madonna has astutely kept her eye on trends and fashions. Based on how the wind was blowing and what was in or out, there have been many musical nips and tucks, many guest production surgeons, many changes of direction and some quite decent pop songs.
Most of us, however, would much prefer to see and hear these on TV and radio rather than contribute the best part of €100 to Madonna's pension top-up fund. As much as we want our fill of controversy, costumes and the kind of bend-over- backwards dancing only a very fit and agile person should attempt, you'd probably get them and a few choc ices thrown in for good measure for half the price at Croke Park.
Like many similar long- wearing pop acts, Madonna's ability to maintain credibility
and currency has suffered significantly in recent years. The pack has caught up and over- taken her, so she is now running to stay in the race, engaging in the sort of quasi-risqué activities she would have turned her nose up at previously. Whether it's snogging Britney or the appalling American Prayer, there has been a rising odour of naffness coming from her boudoir. If good advice has been given, it has not been taken.
Those who still champion Madonna as an icon and a sure- fire way to fill a few pages with lazy codswallop about strong women are still residing in the 1980s, a time when Madge may well have been the last word in cutting edge.
But our good friends, the plain people of Ireland, reside in the here and now and obviously share our doubts about this one. The gig of the summer? Make that the giggle of the summer.
