Latest news with #DaddyCool
The Onion
22-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Onion
Trump Pardons Kid Rock For Whatever Inspired Statutory Rape Lyric In ‘Cool, Daddy Cool'
The post Trump Pardons Kid Rock For Whatever Inspired Statutory Rape Lyric In 'Cool, Daddy Cool' appeared first on The Onion.
Telegraph
17-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
The Apprentice: the Final, review: a worthy winner, but it's time to boot out the boss
Spoilers below, if you haven't already watched the final... The king of cool prevailed over the pizza princess. The Apprentice: The Final (BBC One) saw air conditioning mogul Dean Franklin edge out fast foodie Anisa Khan to clinch Lord Sugar's quarter-of-a-million-pound investment. The curmudgeonly Baron of Clapton should now retire and watch the money roll in. This show is looking more tired than its 78-year-old boss. Over the past 12 weeks of buck-passing, backstabbing and besuited bluster, 18 cocky candidates had been whittled down to two. Likeable Essex boy Franklin wanted to take his home-grown air-con company to the next level. He needed Sugar's mentorship as much as his moolah. Academic high-achiever Khan had the worst record in the series but her Indian fusion pizzas were universally deemed delicious. Could she take a slice of a crowded market? As is traditional, the wannabe tycoons had one last chance to convince the belligerent boss to make them his next business partner. Previously fired contestants returned to help (okay, hinder) as they designed branding and created ad campaigns, before pitching their ideas to industry experts. Both proved solid team leaders. It was their returning rivals who made the blunders. Amber-Rose's shouty attempt at directing an advert for Anisa was cringe-making. Why was it set at a football stadium? Who orders pizza for delivery to Row Z? Meanwhile, hapless Liam bafflingly based the air-con commercial on heating – a secondary function, not its primary purpose. Only an aghast phone call from Dean averted disaster. The bedroom setting and hot-under-the-collar cast meant it still resembled a dodgy adult movie. Sugar's 'trusted advisors', Karren Brady and Tim Campbell, perfected the art of frowning in the background or shaking their heads in disbelief. Come presentation time, Franklin strutted on-stage to 'Daddy Cool' by Boney M, then promptly forgot to take questions. Khan repeatedly referred to 'dark kitchens', which thankfully weren't as sinister (or under-lit) as they sounded. The climactic boardroom grilling was feel-good rather than fearsome. Campbell especially looked endearingly proud of his charges. Both would have made worthy winners but ultimately, chillers beat chillies. The Apprentice remains grimly compelling in a hate-watch kind of way. However, its format has barely changed for 19 series. Too many tasks feel obsolete in this tech age. The emphasis on sales and squabbling is reductive. Those dated bodycon dresses and estate agent suits can be hung up. Sugar's pre-scripted boardroom 'jokes' should be consigned to the circular filing cabinet in the corner. Most of all, it needs a new figurehead with a fresh approach. The original star of the US version, a certain Donald J Trump, moved on a decade ago. Sugar has taken root. The next series is his 20th. An apt time to step aside and let someone else haul the franchise into the future, dragging its wheely suitcase behind it.
Yahoo
19-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Christine McGuinness wins diversity prize for autism and ADHD campaign advocacy
Christine McGuinness has won media champion of the year at the British Diversity Awards, for her advocacy for autism and ADHD. The author and presenter, who was diagnosed with autism later in life, is an ambassador for Caudwell Children, a charity that provides autism support and services for disabilities, and fronted a BBC documentary titled Christine McGuinness: Unmasking My Autism. Blackpool-born McGuinness, 36, beat nominees such as the first blind Strictly Come Dancing winner, comedian Chris McCausland, and TV presenter and campaigner Katie Piper, who founded a charity to help others who had been scarred from traumatic incidents, and had herself survived burns. She has three children, Felicity and twins Leo and Penelope, who have all been diagnosed with autism, with her former husband, Paddy McGuinness. Accepting her award, McGuinness said: 'My dream was to be a mum, and I was blessed with three incredible earth angels, who all just happen to be neurodivergent, and it's because of them that I got my diagnosis. 'I'm so grateful and proud to have my voice and be able to speak for those that can't speak for themselves. Please spend time researching, please be patient with each other, if you have friends or family who are autistic or ADHD. 'Whilst we look like we are happy being alone and pretending we are like everyone else, it's really with thanks to our friends and family.' On Wednesday, McGuinness attended the ceremony, hosted by Loose Women star Charlene White, and Dr Ranj Singh, for the fourth annual diversity prize at Grosvenor House, London. The event, founded by LGBT+ campaigner Linda Riley, celebrates diversity, equity and inclusion by recognising and bringing together individuals and organisations. Guests included presenters Angellica Bell and JJ Chalmers, and former New Tricks actress Tamzin Outhwaite, along with disco group Boney M, who performed their hits Daddy Cool, Rasputin and Sunny. Riley said: 'I'm so proud of what the British Diversity Awards represents, diversity and inclusion are the foundations of a stronger, more successful society. 'The British Diversity Awards celebrate those organisations and individuals leading the way in creating a more equal and representative world for everyone. It's been a truly inspirational night.' Boxer Cindy Ngamba, the first member of the Refugee Olympic Team to win a medal at the games, taking bronze at Paris 2024 for the women's 75kg event, was given the athlete powering positive change award. The Cameroonian, 26, was granted refugee status in the UK because it would be unsafe for her to return home because of her sexuality – homosexuality is illegal in Cameroon. The winner of the company of the year award went to bankers Monzo, and the Nationwide Building Society's Enable Network won the outstanding ability network of the year award. Gemma Webb, from property development company Barratt Redrow, won the head of diversity of the year award, and Kat Parsons, from energy and services company Centrica, took home the inspirational role model of the year award. Sky UK were awarded diversity team of the year, EDF Energy's Women's Network won outstanding women's network of the year, and energy company LGBT+ and Friends won outstanding LGBTQIA network of the year.
The Guardian
14-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
The rise of Hot Dub Time Machine: ‘No matter how good a DJ is, you're still pretending to be a musician'
Tom Lowndes wants to tell me a theory. 'I think DJing is the professional wrestling of the music industry,' he says. 'Wrestling, in the end, no matter how good it is, it's still people pretending to fight. The DJ, no matter how good you are, you're still pretending to be a musician.' He doesn't mean this as a bad thing, of course. Since 2011, Lowndes has performed under the persona of DJ Tom Loud, the ringmaster of Hot Dub Time Machine, a hugely popular music party that tours the world. Throughout the 2010s 'Hot Dub' built a cult following at the Adelaide and Edinburgh fringes, before riding the bubbles and crashes of Australia's 2010s festival landscape and playing big overseas slots from the desert of Coachella to a 15th-century Transylvanian castle. Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning Like wrestling, the key to DJing is playing to the crowd, he says: 'I'm all about the connection. The whole time I'm playing, I'm looking at the crowd. My hands can kind of do the DJing on their own.' The Hot Dub Time Machine concept is simple: over two hours, Lowndes takes his audience from 1954 to the present day, skipping across decades and genres with childlike glee. He typically begins with Bill Haley and the Comets' Rock Around The Clock, before leapfrogging from one track to another via shared musical DNA or lyrical themes. In the 1970s, Daddy Cool's Eagle Rock might turn into Boney M's Daddy Cool. By the 1980s, the horn blasts of Diana Ross's I'm Coming Out blend into Eye of the Tiger, which in turn becomes John Farnham's Pressure Down. In the 1990s, Yothu Yindi's Treaty blurs into TISM's Greg! The Stop Sign!!, before Tag Team's Whoomp! (There It Is!) unexpectedly turns into Nicki French's 1994 cover of Total Eclipse of the Heart. 'My process now is that I make a very, very carefully constructed set … and then I don't do it,' he says. '[I'll have] a really orchestrated, intricate, chronologically correct set. I put a huge amount of effort and thought into what songs will work, the energy and the pacing, all that stuff. And then I look at all their faces and go, 'No, they just want to hear [Earth, Wind & Fire's] September right now'. 'What I do is daggy – I'm a retro DJ,' he adds. 'But when you're playing George Michael and Fred Again within half an hour of each other, there's something about that that makes the George Michael cooler by association, and makes the Fred Again more fun.' Lowndes' early music tastes were shaped by Triple J's request line and his parents' Stones and Beatles cassettes, followed by a heavy metal phase. A stint in London introduced him to ecstasy and rave culture, before returning to Australia to settle into his first career as a sound designer. He spent a few years working on Channel Nine's Underbelly series, and added horse noises to nearly 200 episodes of McLeod's Daughters – he even supplied the crunching metallic noises when Claire's ute fatefully went over the cliff in season three. But he could 'feel the death knell of the Australian television drama', that he was going to need to find new work soon. Sign up to Saved for Later Catch up on the fun stuff with Guardian Australia's culture and lifestyle rundown of pop culture, trends and tips after newsletter promotion 'There's a real cliche of the bitter sound guy, and I could just feel myself turning into one of those,' he says. 'I just wanted to make my own thing.' During another job, on the Channel Ten sketch comedy show The Ronnie Johns Half Hour, he befriended comedians like Heath Franklin, Felicity Ward and Dan Ilic. Lowndes had been dabbling with DJing in his bedroom when Ilic invited him to DJ at comedy shows. It took a while to find his feet. Drawing from his TV background, he started incorporating video clips and pop culture references into his act, which he called Tom's Video Dance-a-Rama – 'which was also wildly unsuccessful,' Lowndes says. With the help from some friends, including Ronnie Johns alumnus Jordan Raskopoulos, he landed on the time-travel gimmick, and a catchier name: Tom's Video Dance-a-Rama became Hot Dub Time Machine, a play on the largely forgotten comedy film Hot Tub Time Machine released the previous year. The novel, crowd-pleasing format suddenly clicked. Lowndes' early success on the Fringe circuit landed him slots at music festivals like Splendour in the Grass and Falls festival. With his management, he soon expanded into the festival market in 2016 with Hot Dub Wine Machine, which saw Lowndes regularly play to between 8,000 to 15,000 punters at wineries around Australia. 'It was a whirlwind. Everything we touched was more successful, more exciting. We would throw more money and do all this stuff, more alcohol, more drugs,' he says. 'It's funny to hear these rock'n'roll cliches coming out of my mouth as a time-travelling DJ. But it did all happen, and then all of a sudden, you're like, 'Hang on, how the fuck did I get here? I don't want to be someone who owns a festival. I'm not a business person, I'm a DJ.' Meeting Lowndes in Adelaide at the start of his latest Hot Dub tour, he's now left much of that behind. He parted ways with his former manager, sold his Wine Machine stake for a dollar during the pandemic, and cut out alcohol entirely. 'I've been sober for five years,' the father of three reflects. 'I used to just be drunk and continue the party. I think everybody in the music industry at some point reaches a point where they have to reckon with alcohol. 'It's really cool drinking and partying with 21-year-olds for a long time, but then all of a sudden it's not cool. You have got to decide – do you want to be the older guy in the industry who has his shit together that people can look up to? Or do you want to be that older guy in the industry who's a bit embarrassing?' Later that night, as Lowndes bounces on to the stage like a gangly human pogo stick, beaming at the crowd over his moustache and triggering 2010s-era air horn effects, it seems his wrestling theory might be on to something. When he performs karate chops to conduct the crowd in a mass sing-along of Abba's Voulez Vous, there's no doubt. 'I know, it's a weird way to make a living!' he yells into the microphone – and the next banger plays. Hot Dub Time Machine's show Can't Stop is touring Australia and New Zealand from 29 March–24 May; see here for all dates.
CBS News
12-03-2025
- CBS News
Documentary aims to unlock the unsolved killing of Detroit urban fiction writer Donald Goines
Who killed Donald Goines? Producers of a documentary on the life of the prisoner-turned urban fiction writer of novels about the violence, drugs and prostitution that he surrounded himself with in Detroit are hoping the answer hasn't been lost to time — or the streets. It's been more than 50 years since Goines and his common-law wife, Shirley Sailor, were found shot to death on Oct. 21, 1974, in their flat in Highland Park, a small enclave of Detroit. Each had been shot five times. Their two young children were home at the time of the killings. No arrests were made and rumors swelled. Some speculated the killings had something to do with 37-year-old Goines' heroin addiction. Others nodded to the theory that the fictional subjects of his novels appeared a bit too much like the real-life hustlers, pimps, drug dealers and stickup men who prowled the city's streets. "There have been at least a half-dozen, quite possibly a dozen, elements of speculation as to how Mr. Goines and the mother of his children were murdered," said Bill Proctor, a private investigator hired to find the killer or killers. "But no one has come forward with enough information to charge the persons responsible." Proctor said a $5,000 reward being offered by the producers of the documentary might help "shake the trees" and find "someone who might still be alive or have an understanding" of the facts of the case. Goines wrote 16 books over a short span of several years. His raw, stark and undiluted writings are filled with the urban street life imagery of the late 1960s and early 1970s. "Dopefiend," was published in 1971. Fifteen more including "Street Players," "Daddy Cool" and "Kenyatta's Last Hit," would follow over the next three years. The titles and the content resonated with many Black readers, especially in Detroit where Goines' books often held prominence on living room coffee tables and bookshelves. "When I read his books, I can visualize — I can picture what he's writing about," said his daughter, Donna Sailor. "He was so descriptive about what he wrote. That's kind of like how it was back then." Donna Sailor was 2 when her parents were killed. She doesn't remember anything about the shooting or her parents. "We would see friends of the family that knew my dad and my mom," Sailor, 52, told The Associated Press Thursday. "They would say she was a sweetheart, and she was funny and had a great smile." Less information about Goines was volunteered, though, she added. "No one ever went into great detail about him. They would say he was a nice guy," said Sailor. The urban lit genre dates back at least to 1967, and the release of the memoir "Pimp," written by Robert Maupin, who also was in jail when he began writing under the name Iceberg Slim. Maupin built a large word-of-mouth following and one of his readers was Goines. Generations later, hip-hop stars like Tupac Shakur were also inspired by the books and have referenced Goines and Iceberg Slim in their recordings. Shakur even once declared: "Machiavelli was my tutor, Donald Goines my father figure." Goines' parents owned a clothes-cleaning and other businesses in Detroit and were part of the city's Black middle class. He enlisted in the Air Force and spent time in Korea and Japan during the Korean War. It was there Goines became addicted to heroin, according to various reports on his life. After his time in the military, Goines returned to Detroit in the mid-1950s. He drifted into the city's criminal underbelly, finding himself jailed for various crimes. Holloway House published Goines' novels from 1971 to 2008, according to current publisher Kensington. Under Kensington, Goines books have sold about 500,000 copies in print, alone. He consistently is one of Kensington's top reordered authors and his books have been "selling at a stronger pace" since it launched a reissue program in 2020, according to the company. Robert (Tape) Bailey and Craig Gore are the driving forces behind the documentary which is expected to be released by the end of the year. Both read Goines' books while incarcerated, separately. Bailey, 49, was born in Detroit and now lives in Los Angeles. He spent time in federal prison as a young man for possession with intent to deliver drugs in Ohio. Goines wrote in detail about things he had witnessed, Bailey said. Gore, 51, of Los Angeles, stumbled onto Goines while serving time for burglary and theft. He says that through the $5,000 reward, they hope to bring more accuracy to the documentary. "We might find nothing. We might solve the murder," he said.
