“Inc-RED-ible BAFTAs!”

 

Enjoy the view…

… This recent encouragement had stuck in my spirit…

… remained suspended, until the opportunity for the right view, came along…

… that being, a behind-the-scenes perspective of one of the most exciting nights of creative recognition, namely, the British Academy of Film & Television Arts Awards.

My view would begin at the Royal Festival Hall..

Sacred home to so many endeavours of artistry, from stage to screen… embracing space of the consummately classic and cutting-edge contemporary… sprawling venue for live, sonic experiences and intimate poetic expression. It is the epitome of an environment, which nurtures, both, the organic and site-specific nature of multidisciplinary invention…

… and, against the backdrop of a rich, aquamarine sky, backlit by piercing dawn sunrays, the milk-white hue of this hallowed building was, extraordinarily stunning.

Taking each step from Belvedere Road, a lively throng of fellow Arts-enthusiasts, was the chorus which greeted me… All in, animated, wait, anticipating a day which, as an observer, could not be planned for, simply, witnessed…

… and, as ever, my curiosity was piqued…

Who were they? Where had their respective journeys started? I had to dive in… and expeditiously learnt, that they hailed from Suffolk, on the 6.a.m. train… Essex, on the earliest train, possible… from all points, on the Central London compass, and beyond, by road and rail… and, like me, had a feeling that on this day, this place was the place to be.

Time seemed to decelerate…

… as if we were, now, suspended in our own BAFTA bubble… Hoardings had gone up, queues, were growing tails of eager-beaver, red-carpet connoisseurs and devotees of the stars, great and good, belonging to this wonder-world of the business called “show”..

… But who would, actually, show up, was still a mystery…

Revelations had been stoking the social-media engines and, on inquiring, as to whom the admirers would most love to see, it was a delight to hear that so many had come to support them all… although, after an eagle-eyed sweep of the clustering column, I did spot a number of tell-tale fan T-Shirts!

***

The sun had been steadily moving… as had the lines… The security, kindly, with the definitive air of authority, had kept us informed of entrance procedures and the Southbank, itself, had become a veritable hive of activity, with the Royal Festival Hall, the, unrivalled, Queen Bee…

Not only was the BAFTA buzz growing louder, by the second, not only were passing tourists approaching, to discover just, exactly, what the electric atmosphere was about, but whispers were becoming squeals of glee, when rumours became online confirmation, of attending A-Listers..

… For my part, the fashion was a distinct draw…

Gowns, from the extravagant to the excessive, were sure to make their appearances… Suits, from the understated, to the uber-o.t.t, would, most certainly, demand airtime… From up-do’s through tutu’s, slick-backs, to short-back and sides.. I was about the glamour, dahhhh-ling and I wasn’t going home, without it!

… And, before we knew it, the moment had come, to be the preliminary steppers upon the tapis rouge! Around the corner, ensconced by BAFTA-emblazoned hoardings, we made like legends-in-our-own-lunchtimes, into designated audience areas… and so began one of the most intense rollercoaster rides, in my living memory!

In a heartbeat, talk began, as to the best vantage point for selfies, the best arm position for selfies, how to lean and get your best side… for selfies… Followed by, from which direction the guests would come… then, how to get the full autograph-album completed, how to get an artist’s attention… There was serious strategy… and I was bowled-over… because, you couldn’t plan for this sort of day… or could you?!!

… From that point on, I observed..

I took it all in…

… and re-ran what had just transpired, to even arrive in the viewing gallery…

We had walked past the Press area, opposite, which was ready for representatives of allotted broadcasting outlets… Looking upwards, were 360-degree cameras, lids down, waiting to wake, and rapidly, blink-to-attention, at the celebrity procession, which would, first, be met by the beat of the step-and-repeat.. and, of course, the prestige courtesy-car, arrival area… which would be the last port-of-call, for last-minute wardrobe adjustments and last-minute calm, before the inevitable screaming-storm!

At the sun’s zenith, they streamed in, as it streamed down… and the V.I.P-count did not disappoint… U.K. to U.S., they hailed… From, soap, to stage, to big-screen… from daytime, to night-time, they adorned the red-carpet and, to be frank, were adored, by the most ear–splitting meet-and-greet welcomes, I have, ever, heard!

Presenters, were mic’d-up and ready to go..

… as homegrown casts appeared, in speedy succession… and the dawn chorus began to call a who’s-who of names… and the, now-perfected selfie poses, were editorials-in-action..

… and we waited.. and, mesmerised, I kept watching..

Who would be next?

Well, for future reference, to be acquainted with the language of “loud-screaming”, is advisable, as the higher-pitched, the more desired, the Artist… Until it all becomes one, continual, collective cry… because, everyone wants to see, be seen and be pictured with, well, everyone…

… and, who could argue with such passion, when, like a rushing river, global names approached, so graciously, to oblige, to the, mountingly, fevered requests (returning, in some cases, often, more than once, twice and, even, thrice)…  not because the sun was a-blaze, but because the red-carpet was a-flame, with fame!

Oh… and how the style-files were overflowing, in my phone and my mind!

… And how my wishes were, beyond, fulfilled…

From home-made, billowing, bin-liner couture, embellished with wrappers, to jewel-toned robes, luxurious layers of exquisitely embroidered and crystal-encrusted attire, to magnificently, cut-to-fit bespoke, black-tie brilliance, which was the most… it’s safe to say that the stars had fallen out of the sky, had, elegantly, landed in London and entirely outshone the sun!

… This undulation of emotional crescendo, only became diminuendo, when all of the glitterati had been whisked away, inside the Hall, for a night to remember…

… and, as dusk fell, outside, I absorbed my red-carpet moments and smiled..

… because they might not have been BAFTAs, but they were my prized souvenirs, of a day, about which, I shall not, soon, forget!

 

 

 

©A_F_R_O_W2019. All Rights Reserved.

“Valentines In Vegas!!!”

 

You know that Valentine’s Week in Vegas is going to be something rather special…

 

… especially special, when, through lively conversation, you find that you are seated next to a heartwarming couple, who have been married for 35 years, called Mr and Mrs Truelove!

 

I kid you not, dear friends!

 

Yes, yours truly, was back, for the third thrilling installment in her Vegas Trilogy… returning to the Love capital of the world… only rivalled, some might say, by the romance of a Paris, at night..

 

“So, what was the story this time?” I hear you enquire…

 

Well… it was all about the Lo-o-o-o-o-ve..

… and if there is anyone who knows how to live their Purpose for just that reason, it’s Mr. Matt Goss..

 

By now, we’ve discovered how, simply exceptional, he is, both, as an Artist and, a deeply, delightful human being.

You already know about his refinement and elegance of style and substance… You also know that, whether solo, or with his immensely-talented brother, Luke, he is consistently turning doubters into, all-out believers, in the supreme gifts which have him flying high, within the Creative Arts Industry and the wider Creative Community.

 

So…

… season by season, (i.e. Thanksgiving, Christmas and now Valentine’s), I have had the distinct blessing of jetting off, into the wide blue yonder of the Vegas skyline, landing at my beloved “Mirage”, elevated to the dizzying heights of the 22nd floor and living-the-(somewhat uexpected)-dream, of all that such transatlantic back-and-forth entails, in order to chart the course and share the joy of this, eminently fascinating, performer’s artistic evolution!

From arrival-Sunday, which saw a two-tone Goss, regaling the “silver foxes” in the room, through to the following Sunday, in which his own homage to silver-grey styling, accentuated his striking blonde-haired, blue-eyed charm, my week was glazed with ever-slicker performances by the fêted “new King of Vegas”… crowned by the Valentine’s event-of-events, on that, most memorable, night-of-nights…

 

…and it was everything!!!!!

 

Sultry, sassy, super-humorous, super-glamorous… peppering the audience, with infectious geniality.. it was undeniably glossy-Gossy, at his undeniable best.

 

To me, more than I’d ever felt it, “1 OAK” was the beating pulse of Nevada…

Whether front row, or booth-bound, the room was replete with revellers who were ready for a steaming hot time…and the show was, accordingly, sizzling…

With no room to lounge in this buzzing bar, the strawberry-strewn, speakeasy space absolutely rocked to the pace of Matt’s adrenalin-fuelled style and a band which, were they any tighter, would have split their, metaphorical, musical seams!

In fact, the duration of the evening was seamless showbiz, par excellence, and we were all with him for the ride… Quite frankly, the swoon-to-croon ratio was ten thousand-a-penny and the power of expression, although effortless in groove, was pure, no-holds-barred effort, in his driving delivery.

 

With more seasoned skits and ska turns, which were te-riff-ic, the general concensus which revolved around the room as this Vegas showpiece progressed, was that this was, categorically, the most impressive that anyone had, yet, seen of Goss… Indeed, I had the privelege of engaging from many vantage points, ergo, sitting in the company of many first-timers, all, of whom, commented on just how consummate a performer Matt was… and how, clearly, he was becoming the quintessential benchmark for any type of entertainment offering, let alone a, consistently, sell-out Vegas residency…

…which is quite the most discernible thing… in that, Matt neither rests upon his laurels,  rather, curating his work, as if presenting a room of unique, sonic sketches.. Nor does he take a moment of this opportunity for granted… In fact, he frequently takes time out to share just how aware he is, of the collective support which has facilitated his sustained success… and it is always stated with touching sincerity, as truly humbling to feel, as it is genuinely received, by all who hear.

 

…And the best is yet to come…

 

… for the dedication to fashioning his vocation into one type of musical masterpiece, has dovetailed into another, destined for Broadway and West End stages, having finished a, much-anticipated, adaptation of U.K. television classic, “Upstairs, Downstairs”, in collaboration with Grammy-nominated Composer, Arranger and Producer, Stephen Endelman…

… and award nods and accolades will, undoubtedly, follow for this burgeoning Impressario, Radio Presenter, Fine Artist… not least, the celebration of the 10-year Vegas milestone, of a man who rises to every challenge in such a way, as to engender wonderment, of whether there is anything Matt Goss cannot do!

 

In the opinion of one whom has arrived to the party a wee bit later than most, but who knows a bit about the whys and wherefores of stage-life, you’d be hard–pressed to find a better example of such a wholly-committed Creative, anywhere upon the globe!

 

With that being said, it’s clear to see why everyone who joins Matt’s journey wants to stick with this first-rate fella, no matter which creative room he goes into… but it won’t be luck that sees him continue to conquer ever-greater territory, it will be unequivocal, unquestionable talent… the type which is indefatigable and endures, long after the venue lights go dark!!!

 

 

©A_F_R_O_W2019. All Rights Reserved

***

 

Don’t miss Matt Goss at “The Mirage”, Las Vegas!

@TheMirageLV  ~  @MattGoss

 

Don’t miss BROS at:-

“The O2 Academy Brixton”: July 5th 2019!

@O2academybrix

 

“Live At The Marquee”, Cork: 26th June 2019!

@LATMofficial

 

“Botanic Gardens, Belfast”: 27th June 2019!

 

“A Merry, Matt Goss Christmas, at The Mirage!!”

 

New York was so good, they named it twice…

Well, friends, Vegas was so GRRRREAT, I had to visit twice!

…That, and the very, self-evident fact, that my body-clock had never reset to U.K.-time, after my first trek… So, why waste good jet-lag, and why not go back…but, this time, to see what Matt Goss Christmas shows would be like?!

Yet, something about returning was, markedly, different.

From the approach into Nevada, to the neverending, tensile outlines, as far as the eye could see, through the plane’s porthole windows, the vista of stardust streets had become a city-wide Christmas tree, immersed in such dazzling luminescence, as if the nightsky, itself, had briefly fallen into the hands of a world, awaiting an, even more, imperceptible illumination.

Touchdown, was as whisper-soft, as a prima ballerina landing a graceful, grand jeté, then gliding through to arabèsque and attitude, as if in one, poised, puff-of-an orchestral phrase… Even the, usually crowded, customs hall held a beguiling hush, with lanes, akin to an emptier Strip, which would meet-and-greet visitors, en route to our respective holiday homes…

Yes, different…

Las Vegas looked and felt different… Offering all of the multi-coloured, candy-covered distractions… yet, sweetened, with an undercurrent of a mystical mood that, seemingly, pledged to effectuate an excursion of greater artistic excellence, than first encountered…

…Intrigued and ready, was I…

…for I’d heard tell of the “Matt Goss Christmas”, as being one to showcase his undeniably impressive and expressive musical and emotional aesthetics, in tune with his penchant for debonair visual styling… say, “midnight-hued, velvet, Tom Ford suiting”… and one need say no more!

Sure enough, it was a supremely-spirited, artist, scorching the stage with refreshed and renewed ferocity, mirrored by a vibrant, razor-sharp, cherry-red, suit, who sent the 1-OAK audience into stratospheric heights, garnering rapturous and, often raucous, applause… For, having been on a deserved break, they had sorely missed he who, night, upon night, upon night, inserted the “Yeah, man”, into each and every show!

Based around the slick and stylish format which I had experienced in November, these three final nights of his highly-favoured residency, further demonstrated exactly why “Matt Goss at The Mirage” could never be considered mere “perfomance and patter”. The regulars attend to joust with his jocularity, seek out the sabre-sharp sarcasm, almost expecting him to splice the air-borne atoms with his own, “M.G.” insignia… yet, all who make their evening his, are, simultaneously, stunned by his spiritual sagacity.

When such moments occur from the vertigo and sweat-inducing heights of a salsa-infused “Sway”, this ultimate frontman stills the room with consummate ease… starting from the most precious pin-drop silence, to reveal the map of his Soul, in stirring melodic stanzas, such as “In The Wee Small Hours”, which, leaves him, breathless, resultant of the passion poured into each note, the reverence for every pause… and clearly, emotional, owing to the dedication to his deeply loved and respected, late Grandfather, Harry.

… It would have many of us weeping, in empathy and recognition of such enduring influences in our own lives…

Yes, this was noticeably distinct…

The closer to Christmas, the more standards… except, to classify them as such, would be to bear injustice to the uncanny ability of Matt Goss and his unique band, to regenerate a childlike wonder into those songs to which we hold so dearly… “White Christmas” and “Jingle Bells” transformed the celebratory warmth into intimate memories, sung in unison, with the wishes seeming to fly upon wings of their own, to the hearts and minds of those, light years away from the venue. His version of “The Christmas Song” was, to me, a new soul classic… in absolute keeping with the proficiency which the new “King of Vegas” holds, for singing beyond musical lines and reinventing the wheels of well-established hits, with sweet, soulsonic, virtuosity…

… and it was this which put a finer tune upon the marked distinction…

Matt Goss is a contemporary Renaissance Man…

… a poised reflection of gentlemanly, sartorial grace, with a South-East London strut!

His story-telling is swathed in meandering, heartfelt revelation, cut through with the tangy brilliance of bold banter, awash with extraordinarily shrewd asides, to make you hold your sides, yet, in a heartbeart, his wit is balanced with a profoundly perceptive wealth of wisdom.. He has the propensity to transform, not only the dynamic of a room, but the entire atmosphere, into that of the metaphysical.

For this is his Matt Goss Music Ministry, which welcomes all-comers to seek and find new ways to engage with creativity, as only he and his impeccably-talented band, can deliver…

…and I truly believe that, should you attend (and I highly recomend that you do!), in one night, you will leave more elevated, empowered, inspired and blessed, for having immersed and lost yourself, in the, entirely beautiful, moment.

 

 

©A_F_R_O_W2018-2019. All Rights Reserved.

~

 

Click-through to:-

See Matt Goss at The Mirage in 2019

Hear Matt Goss on BBC i-Player (“Matt Goss At Midnight”)

Interact with Matt Goss on:-

Twitter: @mattgoss  ~ Instagram: @mattgoss  ~ Facebook: @iammattgoss 

 

Support, both, Matt and Luke Goss on their amazing Bros Tour, in 2019!

Twitter: @TeamMattGoss  ~ @LukeGoss ~ @Brosreunion

~

Most importantly, enjoy being part of the awesome experience!

 

 

“Matt Goss at The Mirage… Truly, One-Of-A-Kind!”

 

EX.TRA.OR.DIN.ARY.

EX.CEP.TION.AL.

Friends, if you happen to find yourself Stateside – Las Vegas, to be precise – there is one new wonder of the world, which must be seen.

But it’s not so much a what, as a, whom.. and he, is Mr. Matt Goss.

Having just returned from an impromptu flying visit to, arguably, the home of  show-stopping entertainment and after experiencing the most incredible Matt Goss Marathon of sell-out nights, at the legendary “Mirage Hotel”, I declare that, neither your eyes, nor ears will deceive you… because he is the real deal! In fact, not only do I, wholeheartedly, vouch for his title, “New King of Vegas”, I put it to you, that he will remain undisputed.

That he is a veritable beacon of distinct creative giftings, is well-known… however, headlining an uber-successful, “up-close-and-personal” residency, takes gravitas of another echelon… and ensconced within the intimate environs of The Mirage’s “1 OAK Nightclub”, is the undeniable proof, in the rare gem of a production…where two hours of live, power-packed escapism, filled with crackling anecdotes and faultless stagecraft, epitomise contemporary Vegas and creativity, of the highest order.

Matt is a maestro… a consummate storyteller and his stories must be told.. at times, in cheeky recollections of past loves…at others, framed by a deeper introspection…his thrilling repertoire of past and present ballads and mash-ups, twist and turn with digressions, the punchlines, of which, have the entire room hanging onto his every word, whether spoken or sung.

As leader of a new brand of “old-skool, new-cool” performer, he is loyally supported by the perfect comedic timing of his partner-in-rhyme, “Big Joe” and a capsule selection of artistes of, nigh-on inconceivably, sky-high musicianship, showcasing sublime front-man, sonic delivery, with a tone, as deliciously smooth as the “Tuxedo” cocktail on offer, (one of a comprehensive list of eponymous variations, of a libate nature!) and as intoxicating to the Soul.

Arrangements are joyous and rousing… reflective of a profound knowledge and appreciation of a genre-rich musical intelligence.. One of the most prevalent examples would be “The Day We Met”, which, would suggest reminiscences of encountering a new love, when, the opposite would be more accurate. What begins with a “Smokey Robinson and The Miracles”, sensibility and 4/4 ease, (which, I believe could also be wonderfully-suited to a Lovers-Rock backdrop), cruises into a Marvin Gaye mood, soon becoming a Ska-fest, with a superb “Specials” reference to their classic, “Too Much Too Young” and then morphs into Carnival Dancehall rhythms, sending the room into a frenzy… only to re-emerge, with a James Brown-èsque breakdown, to the epiphany of, “Sometimes you have to leave the one you love, to find the one you love”… Having looked around the room, at the very moment in which such wisdom keys sink into psyches, it is of no surprise, that the standing ovations come thick and fast… How could they not, when expressive guitar riffs are finely-knit with anchoring bass-lines, peppered, with skilfully-percussive rim-shots and irresistible vocals, from two of the most dynamic backing songstresses you will hear anywhere, let alone the Vegas Strip!!

The phenomenal ensemble makes for premium production value, the force of which can be felt in every square inch of the speakeasy-style space. To that end, Matt stalks the dais-stage, like the proverbial lion…. Majestic, oozing charisma and energy, he is a sartorially-meticulous, human international grid, illuminating the room with unabashed and unrelenting fervour, until observers become participants, in super-fast time… Only his dance moves could be said to have greater velocity… and this man can move… Complemented by a series of dancing sirens, who personify grace and sass, not only, does Matt revolve like a spinning-top-of Soul, his freedom to move amongst the guests and interact, is utterly seamless…

… and democratic… because, if interaction is what you want, then this is what you can and, surely, will, get! To be front row, is a privilege… and when I say front, I mean, front… like, smell the divinely-scented-aftershave-of-the-man, front.. like, be-offered-a-hand-and-serenaded-by-the-man, front… and if not that, then steel-blue eye-contact, with flames of warmth will hold you captive, because his, is the intention of recognising everyone and encouraging “oneness”. Whether it be in clapping as one, to singing (and improvising lyrics) as one, his deep-rooted desire to inspire and facilitate unity, through musicality, is admirable.

Completely logical, thus, that so many admirers from around the globe, descend upon this place… from an, ever-devoted, British contingent, to super-fans from Australia and Italy, all join the savvy Las Vegas locals… and all expect to be transported to “Gossy World”, where you cannot out-glitz or out-glamour the occasion… Quite frankly, people go all-out, to turn-up, and the entertainment exuded on their musical excursion, is beyond first-class!

It is for this inherent ability to translate and transmit from the stratosphere of ever-changing moods, in consistently exemplary fashion, that return visits are so commonplace, why tickets are so sought-after and why Matt Goss’s star will only continue to, exponentially, rise… It’s also a reason why, as in “Hotel California” so many, check out of The Mirage, but can never leave… It’s the entire reason why so many others, myself included, have fallen, not only for Las Vegas, but the sheer, prolific genius of this, most talented, South London boy-turned-man.. for, not only has he made good, but he is a uniquely authentic example of the Humanity, Civility, Passion and Professionalism which go into making an Artist, truly great…

 

 

©A_F_R_O_W2018-2019. All Rights Reserved.

~

Click-through for December 2018 ticket availability to see “Matt Goss At The Mirage”!

Twitter: @TheMirageLV

Social Media:-

Twitter: @mattgoss  ~  Instagram: @mattgoss  ~ Facebook: @iammattgoss

 

~

Sincerest Afrow-appreciation to “Big Joe”, Olly, Ashley and the amazing 1 OAK Family, for their supreme kindness and hospitality at every show!

“Bros: After The Screening Stops…”

I was never going to sleep, after a documentary like that!!

A richly, visual statement-of-intent, of two, larger-than-life-sized personalities, whose high-definition, practically perpendicular, emotional narratives could barely be contained within the confines of a physical cinema frame, in super-surround sound… but could only, ever, have been retold upon it…

The culmination of twenty-four months worth of painstaking preparation, five months worth of seventeen-hour days, in meticulous editing and a close-shave with divorce, the outcome is an absolute masterclass in audiovisual story-telling, executed under the distinctly genius co-direction of David Soutar and Joe Pearlman.

From the opening gambit, a volcanic eruption of an expletive-filled argument, “Bros: After The Screaming Stops” is, often, as devastatingly shocking to the system as an arctic ice-bucket challenge, with frequently frosty exchanges, to match… a fraught insider’s guide into a restless sibling rivalry, revisited, in agonising detail, en route to the most significant concert series of their lives… a career-redefining reunion!!

Set against the backdrop of being one of the most successful British bands of all time, the doors to the lives of Luke and Matt Goss, aren’t just flung open, but positively, blown off, to reveal the devastating effect of personal tragedy and charts the grossly unfair vilification from a media-machine, ravenously ready for new fodder, at the merest sign of a preconceived “dip” in chart positions.

Skilfully-crafted, so as to keep you constantly poised on the knife-edge of your psychological seat, it is the scattered remnants, strewn upon the battlefield of historical fall-out, woven into the contextual highs, lows, turning points and epiphanies, that has you rooting for these profoundly sensitive souls, fighting to co-exist, once again, determined to be heard and fiercely passionate about emerging with a relationship, purged of the poison that tore them apart, so cataclysmically.

Were this a mere petri-dish observation of the behavioural tendencies of twin brothers, you could, perhaps, maintain a, somewhat, clichéd distance… In fact, a lesser offering might have been exactly that… but, in being, documentary, first, with the aspirational by-product of intensely pleasing the fans, it is a truly impacting, non-patronising, non-judgmental exploration of life, on an epic scale.

Quite frankly, they’ve been judged enough and so, this is Bros, 30 years later… setting the records straight, in dynamic, heart-breaking, glorious technicolour. They are not boys. Not highly-conceptual living images, becoming, literal, pop art, growing up in front of the piercing eyes of a fast-paced, global hit-factory, called the Music Industry… Not apprentices, on, arguably, the most public on-the-job training course…

No. Emphatically, not.

Years have passed.

These objets d’art have evolved into men. Now 50. They are forces of nature… Even more impressive Artists, reinvented and rebirthed, in their own right, albeit, predominantly Stateside, due to the haranguing experienced in the place that they should always have been able to call “Home”.

The reconstruction phase has made for bolder, braver, artisanal entrepreneurs, with extensive bodies of work, who are no longer slaves to fear of reprisals… Having cultivated their respective and respected creative careers in, both, music and film, to exponential critical acclaim, they know who they are, what they have to bring to the table and, most crucially, we see that they have the captivating ability to articulate it… No matter how raw the consequential exchanges, in order to do so…

Whether or not you have this foreknowledge, it is clear that the pressure release-valve has, long been, much needed.

The chance to spill their guts. To tear the plasters off emotional wounds, cut the callouses and learn to heal… Much like Luke’s hands, as he relearnt the drums… remembered the joy of playing and rediscovered how incredibly gifted at it, he is. As if driving out demons with every strike on the skins of the, Christmas-come-early, kit… he crashes cymbals and beats out bass rhythms as if, not only the heartbeat of the musical set, but his life depends upon it… Meanwhile, as Matt seems mired by the subliminal strangle-hold of serpents, wound around his vocal chords, post another communication collapse…his commitment to authentically deliver, no matter what, is spine-tinglingly inspirational and puts a lump in your own throat. At times, barely breaking-even, when attempting to perform songs (the candid nature, of which, harshly rake over the coals of, nigh-on unbearable, memories), serves to facilitate their family bond, which gets them through the contempt of familiarity.. and has them surmounting it all, so tenderly and touchingly, together…

Yes, this is their opportunity to tell it like it is, on their own terms… and boy, do they take it.. and, boy, how privileged are we, for the first-hand access to every twist and turn!

Of course, there is light relief… There has to be… and it is immensely welcomed!

Coupled with capturing their lives through multiple lenses, tiredness from the relentless schedule tends to precipitate Matt’s most magical moments to camera… from anecdotal musing, over 7-hour man-scaping sessions… to public service announcements about the need to play conkers without goggles, he is the younger… the playful, puppy-like energy, with a deep-rooted desire to ensure that all around him are happy, especially Luke… the elder, with a more self-contained, yet no less rapier-sharp, glint-in-the-eye, wit.

There are also beautifully lucid descriptions of the journey, from both…

Pontificating about the metaphorical road upon which he and his Brother are travelling, Matt has a way of clutching at the air, as if to catch the ideas which hover in his divergent and visionary thought process. Luke has a wonderfully pragmatic and linear manner of soul and self-expression, citing their collaborative experience as two people, each with a brush, trying to paint onto one canvas…

…which makes it all-the-more important for them to do so, within the rehearsal space… the arena for most of their tussles for creative territory… or the green rooms of television studios… both, of which, see Matt and Luke crumble like the very old wall in their lyrics…. and makes them all-the-more remarkable, for their selfless ability to shelve conflict, when meeting with their precious M.G.A (Matt Goss Army) and L.G.A (Luke Goss Army)… The long-time devotees who have, admittedly, been their constant, through the proverbial and material wind, rain and sunshine of their lives.

It is an astonishing resilience and composure, reminiscent of that which they were forced to develop, literally overnight, after receiving the devastating news that their dear sister Carolyn had tragically passed in a car crash…. and again, after the earth-shattering loss of their beloved Mother despite her valiant battle against cancer.

This, for me, is where the documentary, further, comes into its own.

Sharing their sorrow, the distress is undeniable, the tears, tangible… Yet, the sheer courage to be so vulnerable, sets them apart, as superhumanly strong.. It is deeply humbling and admirable…with a cathartic power that is palpable and pure. From high stakes to high hopes, you cannot counterfeit these feelings of carrying dangerous dynamite, on a, seemingly endless, bumpy road.

Nor can you deny them the triumphant ending… and why would you?!!

Two unforgettable nights at the O2, which sold out in a record-breaking, number-of-completion, 7 seconds, cap-off a rapturous return to the height of the music game, without game-playing… proof positive that this pain-through-the-pixels is the acute birth pang of regeneration… that such pain, can and does, become Purpose.

What is even more evident, is that we are seeing the most promising incarnation of Bros, yet….

They have lived up to the past, broken through its spectres and exceeded expectations.. and by the film’s conclusion, you feel that, as the band-entity and, moreover, as Brothers, they should, never again, exit the stage, separately… and you trust and believe, that, having survived this warts-and-all bootcamp, they won’t ever let that happen…

…they won’t ever allow such rupture through disruption to be felt again, because they are a re-united front, who are stronger than ever…

Therefore, see this, perfect pitch-ure of reconnection, as a matter of priority…

“Bros: After The Screaming Stops” is no ordinary documentary… but, then again, the Goss Brothers are no ordinary siblings… pigeon-hole these fine examples of spiritual ambassadors at your peril… They have been, misguidedly, typecast and underestimated before… and just look at the extraordinary legacy which is following them, now..

As one proud Brosette tearfully declared, even if the world-at-large wouldn’t tell them, they are so loved… and with new music and a 2019 tour on the way, I can categorically state that, after the screening stops and the most beautifully empowering lessons begin, within…

…the screaming and the legends, themselves, continue…

…Long may they reign!

 

 

© A_F_R_O_W2018-2019. All Rights Reserved.

~

Click-thru to:-

See “Bros: After The Screaming Stops” (In Cinemas: 09/ 11/ 2018)

Buy “Bros: After The Screaming Stops” (On DVD/ Digital Release: 12/ 11/ 2018)

Interact with “Bros: After The Screaming Stops

~

“Band Of Brothers…”

Silent partners,

perfectly-bound,

in cinema and in sound…

A unique genetic contract,

witnesses that

one will never

sell-out the other….

… on any grounds.

For, Loyalty is their signature.

Love, is their banner.

Truth, the roof over their hearts.

Courtesy, their uniform.

Civility, their Art.

Faith, their spoken Word.

Authentic, is their endeavour.

A band of Brothers.

A bond, like no other.

Indelibly-linked,

forever.

 

 

©A_F_R_O_W2018-2019. All Rights Reserved.

“#SAVE The Last Dance…”

You will not leave.

You,

offspring of Dvorak.

You,

who distort fallen leaves,

underfoot,

in your vernal rendition,

your rich, Autumn rite.

You,

sprites,

who contort and convert the Now-century,

writhing

and crumpled in Krump,

gyroscopic and free…

… You, nymphs,

 who behold fawns of fashion,

whilst trashing the air of the après-midi,

causing blithe interference…

… Yes, you,

elvish synonyms,

interface rhythm,

Parisian protocols,

banking and flanking,

from left and from right,

as myriad moving material

slices through spotlight.

You,

who transform Nature’s atmosphere,

piercing the raven-haired habitat,

writing in space with your form,

split the atom,

the norm,

as an army of classics, abstracted,

defy and define,

with news-worthy chronicles,

re-setting garments, to zig-zag convention,

re-dressing the balance

of how to keep cool,

when the weathervane indicates, ‘warm’.

You will not leave me.

You will not leave my mind’s eye.

You,

living portals of dreams,

have affected my Soul,

with your

mischievous movement

and palette of

fanciful,

creative schemes.

 

 

 

©A_F_R_O_W2018-2019. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

“Kors And Effect…”

Welcome to a world,

where an arts and crafts backdrop

bursts into Bahia babes,

in blasts of flowers…

… and riotous hues

of pinks and blues,

mismatch stripes,

that clash,

with roaring animal prints.

Stroll along the painted pier,

where fluted flares and fringe,

drop voluminous hints and

flit about with flirty florals,

flipping between

blocks of black and bucket hats.

Listen up!

A musical mega-mix

mirrors the material mash-up,

inviting you to crash the

beach-club party…

Just turn up..

for this is a world,

where the hipster-hillbilly,

meets hip-hop sensibility,

and celebrates the young at heart,

ready to run free!

 

©A_F_R_O_W2018-2019. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

“BROS: After The Screaming Stops”

It is said that one never gets a second chance to make a first impression.

Of course, the original conjugation was in an offline sense. However, on Thursday 30th August, the prevalence of the spike of a certain set of digital impressions was impossible to ignore…

Permit me, friends, to extrapolate the lead-up because, as PR campaigns go, leave alone those of social media ilk, this was inherently stylish, oozing less-is-more class, with the consummate ease of an haute couturier, in preparation for Fashion Week.

All vision, no sound, rendered the volume icon redundant… a pleasant rejection from the “so yesterday“, consumptive trend, concurrent with today’s computer-crammed society. Now, do not get me wrong, friends, for communication, being my wheelhouse, the efficiency of modern modes of connectivity are a blessing… and yet, I appreciated the fact that there was no need for tech savvy… None of it. Instead, picture after picture of conjoined moving imagery was presented, over consecutive days, fuelling the driving momentum of an imminent announcement.

In a countdown where sneak peeks of practiced paradiddles, raw, frame-gripping grief and a, final, stance of brotherhood, from an onstage p.o.v, piqued increasing interest, each tantalising taste of things to come culminated in the revelation that the highly-anticipated documentary of “BROS: After The Screaming Stops” was, not only, available for pre-order, but had also gained BFI-accredited feature status, and was destined to be premiered at the upcoming, London Film Festival… arguably the most prestigious of its kind, upon the creative calendar.

Thus, the method of keeping the quiet out had been encouraging silent-movie engagement… creating the mental space for us to listen to our own internal reactions to the visuals, whilst also engendering empathy of the impact of the deafening nature that such silence brings, both, post-show and in everyday life.

You see, friends… I told you it was classy!

The Twitterverse was sent into a, veritable, hashtag-frenzy and I even think that I heard the echo of screaming, onset by the epic news… I, further, expect the flurry to continue, until ticket lines go live… partnered with the unadulterated glee at the successful purchases, thereof… although that might just be a self-fulfilling prophecy of she who is currently tapping away upon the keyboard, on the other side of your screen!!!

What I know, for sure, is that this meticulous exposition, directed by David Soutar and Joe Pearlman, will bear the grit behind the glamour, the art and the graft, will challenge and cheer, and signify the ultimate exploration of a bond of brothers, brought to the brink and back…

For no-one knows it, like these men in the arena, but after taking such an authentic tour with Matt and Luke Goss, after the screaming stops, I’m fully confident that a rapturous round of applause will start… the script of documentary-making will change and the incremental effect will continue to be felt, for some time to come.

 

©A_F_R_O_W2018-2019. All Rights Reserved

~

Click-through to:-

Pre-order “BROS: After The Screaming Stops” before general digital release on November 12th 2018.

For further information about the film’s cinematic release on 9th November 2018 at www.brosthefilm.com .

For BFI ticket information and updates regarding the London Film Festival Premiere on 17th October 2018.

Further Social Media Links:-

@BrosTheFilm ~ @Fulwell73 ~ @mattgoss ~ @LukeGoss ~ @BFI

#AfterTheScreamingStops ~ #BrosTheFilm ~ #LFF ~ #LondonFilmFestival

 

“M.G.A!”

Women of Grace,

dynamic elegance,

diverse style,

adopted me into their hearts,

like their unknown child…

…covered me in narratives

of life and love

of a man, of a star,

who has always been one with them,

whether near or far…

One glorious venue,

united in sound,

creatively dressed-to-the-nines,

all around,

pulsed with drumbeats and patterns,

soul-stories in song

and bound this community,

all night long…

Call and responsiveness,

laughter and tenderness,

Truth and Transparency,

pain-painted lyrics stressed

nothing was being held back…

No message was lost in one note of a track…

Metaphors, similes,

soared to the rafters,

pleased all who had, long, left their seats…

some dancing,

some pouring their tears into words,

which described life’s rich triumphs

and subtle defeats.

In one breath,

then, next,

inspiration and joy sent them soaring,

as memories rolled down their cheeks.

Peace, mixed with pace,

transfixed in this space…

… as the room smiled,

the precious group glowed…

… and an army of Family,

legion of Fans,

joined their South London Champion,

in toasting,

to all that was shared…

… making merry, as the saying goes…

They were beautiful,

powerful,

this M.G.A…

… his Most Glorious Aficionadoes.

 

©A_F_R_O_W2018-2019. All Rights Reserved.

 

~

This piece is written in thanks of and dedicated to the incomparable M.G.A, who have blessed me with their welcome, inspired me with their support of Matt Goss and overwhelmed me with their response to my memories! You have all contributed to making my maiden voyage into the Gossy experience, entirely unbeatable!

XXX