Latest news with #Blink-182
Perth Now
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Perth Now
Matteo Bocelli eyes duet with his hero Ed Sheeran after working with his co-writer on new album
Matteo Bocelli would love to duet with his idol Ed Sheeran. The son of legendary tenor Andrea Bocelli, 66, has worked with Grammy winner Ed's co-writer Amy Wadge - with whom he penned huge hit Thinking Out Loud - on the balladeer's upcoming second studio album, Falling In Love. The 27-year-old singer's famous father featured on a 2017 classical version of Ed's song Perfect, Perfect Symphony. And, he would love to follow in his parent's footsteps and duet with Ed, but admits he would likely get overwhelmed and struggle to "handle the situation" - despite having performed for King Charles, and at the weddings of Amazon co-founder Jeff Bezos and his spouse Lauren Sánchez and reality star Kourtney Kardashian and Blink-182 rocker Travis Barker. Speaking exclusively to BANG Showbiz, Matteo said when asked about a potential collaboration with the Bad Habits hitmaker: "Always. I was so honoured to have received a song written by him and his brother [Matthew Sheeran], called Chasing Stars. But obviously, yes, I would love one day to be on stage with him - but I don't know if I'd be able to handle the situation." It was after Ed came to Italy to record Perfect Symphony and spent time with the Bocelli's that he found out Matteo was looking for material for his debut album, 2023's Matteo, and later sent him Chasing Stars, about a close bond between a father and son. Matteo - who brought all of his co-writers and producers that worked on the new album to his Tuscany home to record the album - also praised Amy for making him feel at ease expressing himself with "no filters". He said of the heartfelt songwriter: "I worked with Amy many times, multiple times, and she is not just an incredible songwriter, but she's a beautiful soul. She's a beautiful human being. And at the bottom of you know, every writing session, I need to have these people. I need to have people with which I feel myself, with which I feel I'm able to express myself, you know, freely, with no filters. And she's one of them. And so yes, I'm very excited to have a song with her that is To Get To Love You." Matteo's new album Falling In Love is released September 12 on Decca Records. He tours the UK in November. Matteo Bocelli's 2025 UK tour dates: November 2, Manchester, The Bridgewater Hall November 4, Birmingham Symphony Hall November 5, London Adelphi Theatre
NBC News
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- NBC News
Fyre Festival sells troubled brand for $245K on eBay
Fyre Festival has sold the rights to the troubled brand, including its IP, brand trademarks, and social media assets, on eBay Tuesday for a paltry $245,300. The online sale lasted a week, with 175 bids put in by 42 bidders. The final bid was accepted Tuesday morning at 12:44 p.m. EST. It's a small price to pay for the Fyre Festival brand, which went from captivating to calamitous in 2017. What was touted as a luxury glamping music festival, promoted by A-listers in the Bahamas, ended up being a disaster: glamping turned into scattered disaster relief tents with dirt floors, food consisted of meager cheese sandwiches, and artists like Blink-182 pulled out of their shows. Festival organizer Billy McFarland pleaded guilty to wire fraud and other related crimes stemming from the first festival and was released early from federal prison in 2022. The first Fyre Festival was the subject of two documentaries on Netflix and Hulu, as well as a social media storm of memes and ridicule. But that didn't stop his resolve. In 2023, McFarland tweeted there would be a Fyre Festival II on a privately owned island off Mexico. Two years later, organizers announced that the event had been postponed — after tickets had already been sold — with the new date dependent on the location.
Yahoo
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Inside Kourtney Kardashian's daughter Penelope's luxurious 13th birthday celebration abroad
Happy 13th birthday, Penelope! Kourtney Kardashian and Scott Disick's daughter rang in the milestone moment with a luxurious celebration in Italy. The 'Kardashians' star, 46, gave a glimpse of the festivities via Instagram over the weekend. 'My little lady is 13 ,' Kardashian told her followers Sunday. 'Being her mommy is one of the greatest things I have ever done. 'She inspires me to be a better person every day,' the Poosh creator added. 'I won't ever have the words for how much joy and love she brings to my life. She is the cooooolessssst .' The carousel kicked off with a photo of the birthday girl posing in a yellow long-sleeve shirt and matching shorts. The slideshow continued with multiple photos of pink balloons, handwritten birthday cards and fireworks, as well as Penelope's fruit-covered cake. The teen blew out her candles in a sweet video. Kardashian's post also featured additional snaps of their European getaway, including gorgeous balcony views. In 2024, the 'Keeping Up With the Kardashians' alum celebrated her only daughter's 12th year with an epic beach bash, complete with Ferris wheel rides and swimming. Penelope turned 13 on July 8, with her dad, Scott Disick, sharing a touching tribute at the time. 'I have no words 2 explain my love 4 the greatest gift in life and that's my peep aleep!' the Talentless creator, 42, wrote via Instagram last week. 'Happy bday my love!' Disick and Kardashian, who split in 2015, are also the parents of sons Mason, 15, and Reign, 10. Kardashian also welcomed son Rocky last year, her first child with husband Travis Barker. When she married the Blink-182 rocker in 2022, Kardashian became the stepmom to Landon, 21, and Alabama, 19.
West Australian
12-07-2025
- Entertainment
- West Australian
Adrian Barich: Bali is a different place for my daughter than when I visited in my 20s but some truths remain
There was a time — and yes, I'll admit I'm going back a bit — when I could walk down Poppies Lane with a Bintang in my hand, sunburn on my shoulders, and a sense that I was almost bulletproof. Remember your 20s? That feeling of being almost invincible; untouchable, even. Twenty-somethings are supposed to make mistakes, aren't they? And I may have made a few in WA's favourite island hideaway of Bali. Nobody likes you when you're 23 anyway, as Blink-182 once said. That time was 1984 and onwards for me, and Bali was different then. There were no beach clubs serving cocktails, no infinity pools on Instagram, and the only influencer was a bloke called Joey from Cannington, a cashed-up bogan who could barter a fake Rolex Oyster down to five bucks. I've been to Bali more than 20 times over the years. I've seen it grow up, glam up, and be GPS-ed into submission. And now, my daughter goes with her friends, while I stay home checking the Find My iPhone app every 15 minutes and trying not to imagine her on the back of a scooter sans helmet with some bloke nicknamed 'Big Dog'. The circle of life isn't always lions and Elton John songs. Sometimes, it's your daughter posting from a pool party in Seminyak, while you're at your kitchen bench in Perth muttering things like 'I know what goes on over there . . .'. When I first went to Bali, you didn't 'curate content'. You lost your thongs, your traveller's cheques, and occasionally your mates and your dignity. There were nights in Kuta that defied the laws of physics. There were mornings that began with you wandering out of someone else's hotel desperate to make the breakfast buffet at your own accommodation. Some of my wild mates even got tattoos in Legian at 2am. From 'Dr Needlez' no less: the fella's moniker is surely a warning that getting 'inked' was a bad idea. Maybe it was the free shot of arak as anaesthetic that sucked in the boys. Needless to say that tattoo, which was supposed to be a dragon but looked more like a sock puppet, is long gone from the arm of this well-known Perth stockbroker, courtesy of laser removal. And now, all these years later, my daughter is making her own pilgrimage, drawn by the same magnet that pulled us there: cheap everything, tropical sunsets, and that glorious illusion of being just a little bit cooler than we actually were. The Balinese people were another attraction: in my opinion, some of the nicest hosts in the world. As for my daughter? Well, I trust her implicitly. She's smart, capable, and she knows how to say no. But still, Bali is seductive. It's a tropical cocktail of fun, freedom and foolishness . . . and there's always chaos. I gave her warnings she didn't need. I told her to be careful about scooters, about dodgy drinks, about monkey forests (they will steal your sunnies), about currency exchange scams and emotional entanglements with guys who wear beads and call themselves 'soul travellers'. Barra's tips for beating 'Bali belly' were also given a run: no ice cubes in drinks, avoid salads and if you accidentally swallow some water in the shower or when brushing your teeth? Well, spend three days praying to the porcelain gods. Pack light. Laugh hard. Respect the locals. And never trust a drink that glows in the dark. She smiles and says, 'Dad, I'll be fine'. She posts pics from Uluwatu that look like a Vogue spread; I once took a disposable camera into a nightclub and waited a couple of days for some very ordinary photos to be developed. And that, my friends, is what Bali teaches you. It laughs with you, not at you. It breaks you down, builds you back up, and sends you home with stories, scars and the eternal wisdom of never trusting street cart food after midnight. 'Eat. Pray. Imodium.' Long may Bali humble us all. And guess what? My daughter is back now and she's fine, because while Bali still holds its wild heart, today's generation travels smarter. I'm not sure she used the same accent I adopted when talking to the locals, or discovered that most Balinese men have one of four first names: Wayan, Made, Nyoman or Ketut. But I still gave her the benefit of my wisdom. And now, I sit back and watch her make her own memories. She danced where I once danced, ate at places I still can't pronounce, and laughed under the same stars we used to stare at, lying on beanbags on the beach (although I don't think she ventured near the runway at Denpasar Airport to watch jumbos land). There's something about sipping cocktails at Potato Head Beach Club that makes you realise you deserve better. Yes, my generation once felt like the kings of Bali. And now we're just dads who foot the bill and wait for a text that says, 'Landed safe x'. And you know what? That's OK. Because kings don't last forever. But worried dads? We reign for life.
Perth Now
12-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Perth Now
Passing the Bali torch to a new generation
There was a time — and yes, I'll admit I'm going back a bit — when I could walk down Poppies Lane with a Bintang in my hand, sunburn on my shoulders, and a sense that I was almost bulletproof. Remember your 20s? That feeling of being almost invincible; untouchable, even. Twenty-somethings are supposed to make mistakes, aren't they? And I may have made a few in WA's favourite island hideaway of Bali. Nobody likes you when you're 23 anyway, as Blink-182 once said. That time was 1984 and onwards for me, and Bali was different then. There were no beach clubs serving cocktails, no infinity pools on Instagram, and the only influencer was a bloke called Joey from Cannington, a cashed-up bogan who could barter a fake Rolex Oyster down to five bucks. I've been to Bali more than 20 times over the years. I've seen it grow up, glam up, and be GPS-ed into submission. And now, my daughter goes with her friends, while I stay home checking the Find My iPhone app every 15 minutes and trying not to imagine her on the back of a scooter sans helmet with some bloke nicknamed 'Big Dog'. The circle of life isn't always lions and Elton John songs. Sometimes, it's your daughter posting from a pool party in Seminyak, while you're at your kitchen bench in Perth muttering things like 'I know what goes on over there . . .'. When I first went to Bali, you didn't 'curate content'. You lost your thongs, your traveller's cheques, and occasionally your mates and your dignity. There were nights in Kuta that defied the laws of physics. There were mornings that began with you wandering out of someone else's hotel desperate to make the breakfast buffet at your own accommodation. Some of my wild mates even got tattoos in Legian at 2am. From 'Dr Needlez' no less: the fella's moniker is surely a warning that getting 'inked' was a bad idea. Maybe it was the free shot of arak as anaesthetic that sucked in the boys. Needless to say that tattoo, which was supposed to be a dragon but looked more like a sock puppet, is long gone from the arm of this well-known Perth stockbroker, courtesy of laser removal. And now, all these years later, my daughter is making her own pilgrimage, drawn by the same magnet that pulled us there: cheap everything, tropical sunsets, and that glorious illusion of being just a little bit cooler than we actually were. The Balinese people were another attraction: in my opinion, some of the nicest hosts in the world. As for my daughter? Well, I trust her implicitly. She's smart, capable, and she knows how to say no. But still, Bali is seductive. It's a tropical cocktail of fun, freedom and foolishness . . . and there's always chaos. I gave her warnings she didn't need. I told her to be careful about scooters, about dodgy drinks, about monkey forests (they will steal your sunnies), about currency exchange scams and emotional entanglements with guys who wear beads and call themselves 'soul travellers'. Barra's tips for beating 'Bali belly' were also given a run: no ice cubes in drinks, avoid salads and if you accidentally swallow some water in the shower or when brushing your teeth? Well, spend three days praying to the porcelain gods. Pack light. Laugh hard. Respect the locals. And never trust a drink that glows in the dark. She smiles and says, 'Dad, I'll be fine'. She posts pics from Uluwatu that look like a Vogue spread; I once took a disposable camera into a nightclub and waited a couple of days for some very ordinary photos to be developed. And that, my friends, is what Bali teaches you. It laughs with you, not at you. It breaks you down, builds you back up, and sends you home with stories, scars and the eternal wisdom of never trusting street cart food after midnight. 'Eat. Pray. Imodium.' Long may Bali humble us all. And guess what? My daughter is back now and she's fine, because while Bali still holds its wild heart, today's generation travels smarter. I'm not sure she used the same accent I adopted when talking to the locals, or discovered that most Balinese men have one of four first names: Wayan, Made, Nyoman or Ketut. But I still gave her the benefit of my wisdom. And now, I sit back and watch her make her own memories. She danced where I once danced, ate at places I still can't pronounce, and laughed under the same stars we used to stare at, lying on beanbags on the beach (although I don't think she ventured near the runway at Denpasar Airport to watch jumbos land). There's something about sipping cocktails at Potato Head Beach Club that makes you realise you deserve better. Yes, my generation once felt like the kings of Bali. And now we're just dads who foot the bill and wait for a text that says, 'Landed safe x'. And you know what? That's OK. Because kings don't last forever. But worried dads? We reign for life.
