I’ve been on hold a lot this morning. one of the perils that comes with moving house. That’s okay – it’s some of what you sign up for – but it’s distracting. It breaks solid concentration on projects, links, work… the whole deal. In the meantime I’ve been poking at my current favourite reference point/metaphorical stand-in in one of my little notebooks: What can I tilt around the new Doctor?
In my wrap-up of pop in the 00’s for Global Comment I pointed at The Doctor as a perfect reference point around which the regeneration of pop stars took place. We saw Damon Albarn’s infinite guises match moves with Kylie’s, while the out-of-history perfection of Lady Gaga existed as strange visitor, subtly controlling all. It’s still early, and the shadows of those figures still loom hard over music (two were Glastonbury headliners the weekend just gone while the other stomps all over the Last.fm charts still) in much the same way that Tenant looms over Smith. But there are cracks in the dominance of that: Matt Smith on stage with Orbital, Glee’s popularity, Scott Pilgrim’s totally awesome forthcoming world-dominance. It’s all a bit twee, a bit charming, a bit big. A bit bright, definitely that.
Other notes: The 11th Doctor loves fairy tales, and in the last century they’ve become softer, happier things. He likes stories, believes in the power of them, and of shared, collective things. And he’s got faith in himself too, confidence occasionally bordering on swaggering – that’s pretty inspiring. The more often I jam different facets of popular culture together – for work or for fun or for both – the more important I feel those qualities are to talk about.
I probably will. But not just yet.