Author’s note: The Brit awards are actually quite swanky now. They weren’t in 2003
Furious organisers of the Brit Awards lashed out at claims that they had been forced to economise on the awards by the downturn in UK music industry fortunes caused by bootleg CD’s, pirated downloads and “the complete and utter crap that passes for pop music nowadays.”
Speaking on behalf of the British Phonographic Industry, Chris Jones, furiously rebutted accusations that the Brits were a cut-price version of the Grammies, with less stars, shoddier acts and much poorer quality hor’deurves. “The Brits, like the BAFTA’s, can stand shoulder to shoulder with our American cousins. Just look at the glittery venue and host of stars on offer tonight and tell me this isn’t entertainment of the highest quality,” said Mr. Jones brandishing a video of several stars who were unable to attend the evening’s ceremony “for reasons of being exceptionally busy doing other things somewhere else”
However, despite Mr. Jones’ assurances, both attendees and television viewers expressed surprise at the change of venue from the top London hotel used last year to a school hall in Bognor but this was explained away as being essential to maintain security. The fantastic opening laser display and light show of previous years was also replaced by Cliff Richard juggling two torches and then using them to point out the emergency exits. Mr. Richard was then seen to don a fluorescent jacket with “Fire Steward” written on it and stand in the wings clutching a fire extinguisher.
As the show then started properly, the two awards presenters, Katie Boyle and Bruce Forsyth, then leapt onto the stage. Announcing the first award they inserted Mr. Jones’ tape into the state-of-the-art Amstrad video player to show controversial rapper Eminem refusing to accept a small plastic figurine from an apparently pleading Mr. Jones. However, the precise nature of the award was difficult to detect as the video played at double speed with no sound.
As further stars sped past the audience on video, the evening moved on to what Mr. Jones described as “the finest cuisine money can buy” repeatedly assuring the diners that “Spam is de rigeur at all fashionable night-spots, nowadays.” However, by the time coffee was served many guests laid aside their Bird’s trifle and Malteser petit-fours and stormed out.
We spoke to stylish music industry executive Derek Gadd who complained that even some of the videos appeared to have been pirated. “That George Michael video was clearly bogus. He looked nothing like the bloke from ‘Wham!’, what with that ridiculous moustache and sideburns – he could have been some sort of steaming great poofter. And he hadn’t even bothered to learn the right lyrics. What was all that nonsense about ‘stop the war’, I don’t remember that featuring in ‘Club Tropicana’. And who was that dozy cow singing with him. She didn’t look anything like Pepsi or Shirley. You’d have thought if the were going to hire Karaoke lookalikes they could have got some decent ones”
However, one so-called economy measure has turned out to be a false-alarm when a plastic show room dummy dressed in a black suit and white gloves turned out to be Michael Jackson.
Sex and Drugs and Growing Old 