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Showing content with the highest reputation on 01/17/2019 in all areas

  1. 3 points
    G House

    Madonna at Eurovision

    I don't really get all this hatred for Eurovision. I think it clearly comes from ignorance because this would be a success for M in terms of exposure, bigger than the Grammy and/or BRIT Awards: the ESC is literally the biggest music event in the world with 186 million viewers last year and, just in case you have forgotten it, Europe is Madonna's biggest market . Just do the maths. Too cheesy? Too gay? Too camp? Wow, revise your internalized homophobia folks. Plus, I really bet it's been ages since the last time you watched the show, otherwise you wouldn't be saying such nonsense. Just a little example, the winners from 2015 and 2012: And this was France's entry last year about the refugees' drama: And this, and I finish here, was Sweden's over-the-top entry which literally looked like a music video:
  2. 3 points
    Régine Filange

    Madonna at Eurovision

    First of last, what's the difference? Will just boost her sales. And since she's more popular in Europe than US it would be good to perform there.
  3. 3 points
    That would be awesome!
  4. 3 points
    I know it will never happen but I'd love to hear Madonna have a go at this ?
  5. 2 points
    Did U spot the deliberate 'quiz' hidden ? Yeh, and all His-Spanic too ?? Do the decent thing missus and dive into The Salsa ?
  6. 2 points
    scottyj

    Record Store Day 2019

    Con or not, I must say I do enjoy getting up early on RSD to go to the local shops and hunt .. not just for Madonna but other things. It takes me back to the OLDEN DAYS when I would sit outside Sam The Record Man waiting for the door to open so I could plow through grabbing records and cd singles ... that reminds me of the glorious morning when I was 16 grabbing copies of her f irst VHS single, Justify My Love. Oh the days... oh the nostolgia .. it used to be my playground.
  7. 2 points
    Brendanlovesu1

    The New Album - 2019!!

    I'm so tired and waiting and speculating. We've been chomping at the bit for this album for a year now, with one self-inflicted disappointment after another. It's time for a god damn release date to be announced. This is ridiculous.
  8. 1 point
    groovyguy

    Happy Birthday, RobertoFer42!

    Happy Birthday, RobertoFer42! [January 15th]
  9. 1 point
    Lucifer's Angel

    Madonna at Eurovision

    Madonna does not like to repeat herself and that is the same promo of the Rebel Heart era... Eurovison or Glastonbury for the beginning would be much more thrilling! On top of that, the Grammys take place in the US and have many performers and highlights. While, if she is confirmed to perform at Eurovision then she will be the main talking point for all the duration of the show, not just one -night event. Moreover, Israel and its press can welcome Madonna with much more love than the US. Honestly, it is not that big deal if US citizens don't watch Eurovision cuz they stopped supporting Madonna long ago. Any promotion in the US including Coachella is just a waste of time seriously she should just promote hard in the EU and the countries that still believe in her power.
  10. 1 point
    UPDATE A new clip of her dancing in front of the blue screen has leaked ! Just posted in the first post of this thread ! It's heaven on earth !!!!
  11. 1 point
    I think she's a perfectionist, and also quickly 'over' something.
  12. 1 point
  13. 1 point
    I NEVER understand why they don't release anniversary editions with bonus b-sides and remixes.... These repeated vinyl re-releases are so insignificant, I always say they are releases for the rich fans, those who can afford buying the same thing again, but in a different color. I think one good color release is enough. I also think they aren't allowed to re-release new or more fine stuff. The Immaculate Collection coloured LP is horrible, and extremely expensive, since it has nothing of special value. Why they didn't make it a picture disc? Or just both discs plain blue as the cover? It would be perfect like that. Maybe they're planning on saving that material to make money after she dies? Don't take me wrong, labels most of the times only release that kind of stuff after an artist dies. I'm quite sure they will re-release everything with new material which they would own rights.
  14. 1 point
    Fontainebleau

    What are you reading right now?

    Something inspirational... Desiderata Max Ehrmann Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
  15. 1 point
    azrael

    The New Album - 2019!!

    I think some kind of compromise would be cool with, like, a new EP every 1-2 years (5-8 tracks a piece). She has plenty of back catalogue material to go with and I'm sure she has loads of ideas for tracks she never got the chance to give a melody to.
  16. 1 point
    I need to find this and see if they have audio book. With this i would try my best to read it the same with madonna books. If she ever came out with one.
  17. 1 point
    this is such a sweet thing she did she truly loved Ella. I really believe if marilyn would've lived she would be for all of us. this is a beautiful photo with her and Ella.
  18. 1 point
    tricky ricky

    Madonna at Eurovision

    i agree especially if her new music is very european sounding ...its a great idea and yes although i wish sometimes she would do the talent shows for exposure as some artists do get hits due to performing on them ...i am also glad she avoids them
  19. 1 point
    blondebombshell

    Happy Birthday, RobertoFer42!

    wishing you a great birthday on your special day @RobertoFer42
  20. 1 point
    Fontainebleau

    What are you reading right now?

    A Lady's Story Anton Checkhov Nine years ago Pyotr Sergeyitch, the deputy prosecutor, and I were riding towards evening in hay-making time to fetch the letters from the station. The weather was magnificent, but on our way back we heard a peal of thunder, and saw an angry black storm-cloud which was coming straight towards us. The storm-cloud was approaching us and we were approaching it. Against the background of it our house and church looked white and the tall poplars shone like silver. There was a scent of rain and mown hay. My companion was in high spirits. He kept laughing and talking all sorts of nonsense. He said it would be nice if we could suddenly come upon a medieval castle with turreted towers, with moss on it and owls, in which we could take shelter from the rain and in the end be killed by a thunderbolt.... Then the first wave raced through the rye and a field of oats, there was a gust of wind, and the dust flew round and round in the air. Pyotr Sergeyitch laughed and spurred on his horse. “It’s fine!” he cried, “it’s splendid!” Infected by his gaiety, I too began laughing at the thought that in a minute I should be drenched to the skin and might be struck by lightning. Riding swiftly in a hurricane when one is breathless with the wind, and feels like a bird, thrills one and puts one’s heart in a flutter. By the time we rode into our courtyard the wind had gone down, and big drops of rain were pattering on the grass and on the roofs. There was not a soul near the stable. Pyotr Sergeyitch himself took the bridles off, and led the horses to their stalls. I stood in the doorway waiting for him to finish, and watching the slanting streaks of rain; the sweetish, exciting scent of hay was even stronger here than in the fields; the storm-clouds and the rain made it almost twilight. “What a crash!” said Pyotr Sergeyitch, coming up to me after a very loud rolling peal of thunder when it seemed as though the sky were split in two. “What do you say to that?” He stood beside me in the doorway and, still breathless from his rapid ride, looked at me. I could see that he was admiring me. “Natalya Vladimirovna,” he said, “I would give anything only to stay here a little longer and look at you. You are lovely to-day.” His eyes looked at me with delight and supplication, his face was pale. On his beard and mustache were glittering raindrops, and they, too, seemed to be looking at me with love. “I love you,” he said. “I love you, and I am happy at seeing you. I know you cannot be my wife, but I want nothing, I ask nothing; only know that I love you. Be silent, do not answer me, take no notice of it, but only know that you are dear to me and let me look at you.” His rapture affected me too; I looked at his enthusiastic face, listened to his voice which mingled with the patter of the rain, and stood as though spellbound, unable to stir. I longed to go on endlessly looking at his shining eyes and listening. “You say nothing, and that is splendid,” said Pyotr Sergeyitch. “Go on being silent.” I felt happy. I laughed with delight and ran through the drenching rain to the house; he laughed too, and, leaping as he went, ran after me. Both drenched, panting, noisily clattering up the stairs like children, we dashed into the room. My father and brother, who were not used to seeing me laughing and light-hearted, looked at me in surprise and began laughing too. The storm-clouds had passed over and the thunder had ceased, but the raindrops still glittered on Pyotr Sergeyitch’s beard. The whole evening till supper-time he was singing, whistling, playing noisily with the dog and racing about the room after it, so that he nearly upset the servant with the samovar. And at supper he ate a great deal, talked nonsense, and maintained that when one eats fresh cucumbers in winter there is the fragrance of spring in one’s mouth. When I went to bed I lighted a candle and threw my window wide open, and an undefined feeling took possession of my soul. I remembered that I was free and healthy, that I had rank and wealth, that I was beloved; above all, that I had rank and wealth, rank and wealth, my God! how nice that was!... Then, huddling up in bed at a touch of cold which reached me from the garden with the dew, I tried to discover whether I loved Pyotr Sergeyitch or not,... and fell asleep unable to reach any conclusion. And when in the morning I saw quivering patches of sunlight and the shadows of the lime trees on my bed, what had happened yesterday rose vividly in my memory. Life seemed to me rich, varied, full of charm. Humming, I dressed quickly and went out into the garden.... And what happened afterwards? Why—nothing. In the winter when we lived in town Pyotr Sergeyitch came to see us from time to time. Country acquaintances are charming only in the country and in summer; in the town and in winter they lose their charm. When you pour out tea for them in the town it seems as though they are wearing other people’s coats, and as though they stirred their tea too long. In the town, too, Pyotr Sergeyitch spoke sometimes of love, but the effect was not at all the same as in the country. In the town we were more vividly conscious of the wall that stood between us. I had rank and wealth, while he was poor, and he was not even a nobleman, but only the son of a deacon and a deputy public prosecutor; we both of us—I through my youth and he for some unknown reason—thought of that wall as very high and thick, and when he was with us in the town he would criticize aristocratic society with a forced smile, and maintain a sullen silence when there was anyone else in the drawing-room. There is no wall that cannot be broken through, but the heroes of the modern romance, so far as I know them, are too timid, spiritless, lazy, and oversensitive, and are too ready to resign themselves to the thought that they are doomed to failure, that personal life has disappointed them; instead of struggling they merely criticize, calling the world vulgar and forgetting that their criticism passes little by little into vulgarity. I was loved, happiness was not far away, and seemed to be almost touching me; I went on living in careless ease without trying to understand myself, not knowing what I expected or what I wanted from life, and time went on and on.... People passed by me with their love, bright days and warm nights flashed by, the nightingales sang, the hay smelt fragrant, and all this, sweet and overwhelming in remembrance, passed with me as with everyone rapidly, leaving no trace, was not prized, and vanished like mist.... Where is it all? My father is dead, I have grown older; everything that delighted me, caressed me, gave me hope—the patter of the rain, the rolling of the thunder, thoughts of happiness, talk of love—all that has become nothing but a memory, and I see before me a flat desert distance; on the plain not one living soul, and out there on the horizon it is dark and terrible.... A ring at the bell.... It is Pyotr Sergeyitch. When in the winter I see the trees and remember how green they were for me in the summer I whisper: “Oh, my darlings!” And when I see people with whom I spent my spring-time, I feel sorrowful and warm and whisper the same thing. He has long ago by my father’s good offices been transferred to town. He looks a little older, a little fallen away. He has long given up declaring his love, has left off talking nonsense, dislikes his official work, is ill in some way and disillusioned; he has given up trying to get anything out of life, and takes no interest in living. Now he has sat down by the hearth and looks in silence at the fire.... Not knowing what to say I ask him: “Well, what have you to tell me?” “Nothing,” he answers. And silence again. The red glow of the fire plays about his melancholy face. I thought of the past, and all at once my shoulders began quivering, my head dropped, and I began weeping bitterly. I felt unbearably sorry for myself and for this man, and passionately longed for what had passed away and what life refused us now. And now I did not think about rank and wealth. I broke into loud sobs, pressing my temples, and muttered: “My God! my God! my life is wasted!” And he sat and was silent, and did not say to me: “Don’t weep.” He understood that I must weep, and that the time for this had come. I saw from his eyes that he was sorry for me; and I was sorry for him, too, and vexed with this timid, unsuccessful man who could not make a life for me, nor for himself. When I saw him to the door, he was, I fancied, purposely a long while putting on his coat. Twice he kissed my hand without a word, and looked a long while into my tear-stained face. I believe at that moment he recalled the storm, the streaks of rain, our laughter, my face that day; he longed to say something to me, and he would have been glad to say it; but he said nothing, he merely shook his head and pressed my hand. God help him! After seeing him out, I went back to my study and again sat on the carpet before the fireplace; the red embers were covered with ash and began to grow dim. The frost tapped still more angrily at the windows, and the wind droned in the chimney. The maid came in and, thinking I was asleep, called my name.
  21. 1 point
    Books have been around a tad longer than Vinyl Albums but there is a new similarity. If you understand WHY RCA kept pressing Jim Reeves 78's in South Africa until the 1980's [think about why ?] you will know get my views on streaming etc. "The Wheel ? Oh, We invented that last week...We just couldn't decide on the colour !"
  22. 1 point
    I do read some actual paper books. This is sorta of interesting, and kinda brief. https://www.knkx.org/post/how-marilyn-monroe-changed-ella-fitzgeralds-life
  23. 1 point
  24. 1 point
  25. 1 point
    if she releases it MDNA style I will slap her forever.
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