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How The Closing Ceremony Ended Twitter's Love Affair With London 2012

by Luke Holland
13 August 2012 17 Comments

Good old British cynicism has been scarce in the past fortnight thanks to a glut of medals and inspiring Olympians. However, all it took was Russell Brand singing "I Am The Walrus" to bring us back to earth with a mighty thud.

2012 Olympic Games - Closing Ceremony

A lot’s happened in the last sixteen days.

No-one predicted the almighty shift in national perspective that would roll out like a vast, mood-altering EMP pulse from Danny Boyle’s epic opening ceremony. You could feel it on the night: ‘Is this ceremony actually…good?’ you allowed yourself to think, stunned. A cursory glance at Twitter – the porthole into a bustling cross-section of abuse, opinion and nit-picking one-upmanship – confirmed it. You were right. It WAS good. That brittle cynicism that usually defined Britain in general and Twitter in particular dissipated, like a mighty wave breaking against a shore. It was an artificial shore, yes - one which cost the taxpayer £13bn - but dagnammit, it was a British shore, and we’d paid for it so we might as well bloody enjoy it.

‘Is this…pride?’ we thought, as a sensation swelled within us, and we pondered the concept, rolling its unfamiliar shape in our minds. It felt strange but…exhilarating. It fitted us. After sixteen days of British sporting brilliance, of both the public and media (social and national) being united behind a common interest, we became a Utopian society: people smiled at each other on public transport; held doors open for others; Union Flag regalia were no longer seen as the identifying stamp of the intellectually and genetically impaired. We’d bonded. We’d grown. Twitter was a happy place.

Last night’s closing ceremony marked the end of this social experiment. It certainly had its moments: there’s something irresistibly spectacular about the simple sight of Lambrettas and Rolls Royces whizzing around a stadium at twenty miles an hour, or of a cast of thousands undulating in practiced unison. The ceremony had ambition. There was also the odd stab of the giddy, inward-looking nudge-and-wink sensibility that we’d enjoyed in the opener: Eric Idle’s comedic number, during which he fondled the boundaries of taste, and Del Boy and Rodney’s appearance, which would make little sense to anyone not raised on our diet of rain, sloppily-processed foods and Saturday night TV. Plus, whoever was responsible for the implementation of those LED lights and the firework displays deserves to be given lots of money. Which is fortunate, because they probably were.

Union Flag regalia were no longer seen as the identifying stamp of the intellectually and genetically impaired. We’d bonded. We’d grown. Twitter was a happy place.

And yet, this was supposed to be ‘the afterparty’ to the Opening Ceremony and, like all televised parties, the extent to which its ebullience was forced for the cameras occasionally pushed the stuffing out through the seams. Some of the decisions were truly baffling, others were simply stupid, and these occasionally made us look, for the first time in sixteen days, a bit shit.

There was the inclusion, apropos of fuck all, of turgid Cowell-effluence pentagram One Direction. Their baffling juxtaposition with electro greats The Pet Shop Boys - as if both exist on similar plains of cultural relevance (they do not) - managed to cheapen the entire tone in one fell swoop. The world should know that British music is great IN SPITE of One Direction, not because of them, and it was here that Twitter’s newfound benign and egalitarian outlook began to shake. Something was going to give.

Thesaurus-tongued smack-pansy Russell Brand aping Willy Wonka and singing I Am The Walrus stretched Twitter’s goodwill to breaking point. Brand is an international name and a good standup, but giving a comedian two songs when national icon Ray Davies only gets one is a choice that could only have been made under the influence of drugs, or bribes, or both. Brand can sing a bit, but leaving Liam Gallagher to drag his fists backstage while Brand sings a John Lennon song is like paying thousands of pounds for a premium call girl and then letting her watch TV while you wank miserably in the bathroom.

Any hopes that George Michael could stage a rescue were put to pasture when he unleashed his second song - a tuneless tofu slab of blippy, mid-life dreck, to which he grimaced and wobbled like a dinnerlady stuffed to the larynx with love-eggs. The Kaiser Chiefs’ passable cover of Pinball Wizard was pointless too - The Who were appearing anyway, and so many British bands were left conspicuously uncelebrated.

Worst of all were Jessie J and Emeli Sandé’s inexplicable multiple appearances. Jessie J, Tinie Tempah and Taio Cruz floundering onstage while their backing track played out was excruciating, and Jessie singing We Will Rock You eschewed a multitude of singers more suitable to the song, not to mention vast chunks of the song’s original melody.

The world should know that British music is great IN SPITE of One Direction, not because of them, and it was here that Twitter’s newfound benign and egalitarian outlook began to shake

Highlights did come, courtesy of Annie Lennox’s preposterously brilliant boat, The Who’s ageless closer (proving beyond all doubt that there’s an attic somewhere containing a portrait of Roger Daltrey looking very poor indeed), Freddie Mercury’s posthumous eminence, and The Spice Girls’ shouty cab-straddling. But the recorded references to Kate Bush and Bowie only served to remind us how much was actually missing for the itinerary: instead of appearances from either, we got an impressive, flouncy dance number, and a pouting parade of snow-nosed size-zero models, completely at odds with Boyle’s celebration of female emancipation and the NHS. It was as pro-feminist as slapping Emmeline Pankhurst across the tits and then offering to park her car.

In the end though, the closing ceremony, through sheer persistence and kitchen-sinkery, succeeded. Both ceremonies were spectacular, but last night’s was the one we feared the first would be: stilted, confused, predictable and disjointed. It did its job, but you get the feeling that the best music was happening in Hyde Park, and the best parties were in parks or back gardens across the nation. The hordes of empty seats by the time The Who appeared spoke volumes.

By the end, Twitter had reverted to its default setting: amusing snipes, cynicism, world-weary grumpiness and fish-in-a-barrel BoJo mockery. The upcoming Paralympics means that we still have plenty of nationally-unifying sporting brilliance to come, but perhaps the closing ceremony brought the curtain down on a nation’s brief affair with earnest non-cynicism that was brought about by one ceremony and killed off by another. Thank God.

Read some more of our Olympics articles…

#Rejected Olympic Events: From Salad Dodging To Hide and Seek

Why The Stars Of WWE Should Be Allowed In The Olympics

London 2012: Just What The Hell Is Handball?

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Phil Thornton 3:39 pm, 13-Aug-2012

good old fashioned british cynicism wasn't scarce in my house cunt!

Kate 3:41 pm, 13-Aug-2012

A brilliant read. Although I have to disagree on Gallagher, I'd rather see Russell Brand rip a Beatles song than give Liam the chance to cover it seriously.

Ian 3:42 pm, 13-Aug-2012

Absolutely spot-on Luke. The brilliant role models of Karina Bryant, Jess Ennis, Laura Trott et all were replaced in one foul swoop by vacuous talent-free celebrity stick isects deseprate to shift some more back catalogue as Rip-off Britain re-opened for business.

Laura 4:32 pm, 13-Aug-2012

Spot on...Instead of Bowie or Bush (no pun intended) 'we got an impressive, flouncy dance number, and a pouting parade of snow-nosed size-zero models, completely at odds with Boyle’s celebration of female emancipation and the NHS. It was as pro-feminist as slapping Emmeline Pankhurst across the tits and then offering to park her car' Brilliant. Although, i do agree with Kate. Liam Gallagher sounded like Orville - would rather have Brand's harmless mincing any day of the week.

'arrysfatwallet 5:11 pm, 13-Aug-2012

Anyone using Twatter as a guide to the nation's mood is like asking the lunatics how labotomy works. Only the brain dead "tweet".

pd 5:12 pm, 13-Aug-2012

most of it was vaccuous and inane (Ray Davies and The Who excluded); the director was trying to pander to all tastes and that was its major flaw...In the end, it all came across as a bad pop video! The highlight for me was seeing Boris Johnson with his hair brushed doing crap dad dancing to the Spice Girls! His mum must have dressed him and sorted him out..

Tim 6:20 pm, 13-Aug-2012

More Liam wouldn't have helped, he used to be a decent frontman but now he unfortunately sounds like Sweep. The entire ceremony was a steaming turd which may in fact have benefited from the appearance of Matthew Corbett, Sooty and Soo.

Stephen 6:33 pm, 13-Aug-2012

Where the fuck was Rod Hull and Emu?

The Becks 6:50 pm, 13-Aug-2012

No Chas and Dave was the real choker for me.

Dan 8:17 pm, 13-Aug-2012

Sorry i completely disagree. I enjoyed it, and my kids enjoyed it. I was for everyone, of all ages and musical tastes. Yes it's easy and 'cool' amongst your twitter friends hate something and to point your ignorant finger at artists you don't like at supposedly being untalented or rubbish, whatever you want to call them. But the likes of Jessie J and Emile Sande who actually write their own music and have fantastic voices are incredibly talented. I don't go out of my way to listen to either of them but i'm not walking around with my head shoved up my arse - to notice.

Rodney 10:16 pm, 13-Aug-2012

The Guardian live text said it perfectly... "And to think two weeks ago the world thought we were shit at sport and great at music."

Matches Malone 10:24 pm, 13-Aug-2012

I made a sarcastic joke about jessie j in reference to her stroke and was set upon by a couple of die hard jessie j fans. Pretty entertaining being told I wasn't allowed to tweet what I wanted on my own twitter by tweenage girls who hadn't even read the tweet in question... Either way, she is incredibly fucking annoying.

roym 10:40 pm, 13-Aug-2012

The closing ceremony by default was never going to please everyone. Not convinced seeking the approval of the Twittersphere is the way to go in any event. Lots of snarky twats who were itching to have a pop. The models were totally uncalled for, but fashion has been a great British success over the years. There was plenty for everyone, both home and global audiences. Shame they didn't get Bowie, but he might well have been one of those who turned the gig down when offered it. Btw, where do you get 13bn from. The FT has reported HALF that

Bunny 11:08 pm, 13-Aug-2012

last night made me yearn for Dancing on Ice.

Martin 10:08 am, 14-Aug-2012

Yes, there was music you don't like. Get over it.

Seamus (from the Vengaboys) 2:37 pm, 14-Aug-2012

I kind of half-watched it, so don't get the Roger Daltrey / attic reference and, also, what or who is BoJo?

Dan The Man 12:03 pm, 15-Aug-2012

Bang on. Out of the hundreds of truly talented artists we have, how could anyone really think it was a good idea to let Jessie J and Emilie Sande sing half of the fucking show. There was some really good music there but a lot of utter shite which didn't represent the bets of British. Very little rock music, which is poor from the country that invented heavy metal. Yet somehow they think it's appropriate to have loads of rap (eejits shouting 'uh, uh, yeah, cmon, uh, yeah). One Direction being on there was a travesty, a sickening reflection of mindless celebrity culture (as was Russell Brand, Kate Moss et al). You might as well have Jordan and Jodie Marsh singing a duet.

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