For the record, Shyne Ward is not my cup of tea. I had no idea of who he is, until some of my friends told me that he won some talent show or the other called X-Factor. I actually wanted to photograph Seu Jorge at the Royal Festival Hall, but my agency called the shots. If it were a question of personal preference, Seu Jorge would win hands down, bar none, just for convenience in getting the picture and not being treated like an animal.
Now, as most photographers who go down to the 02 to work knows, it’s always a nightmare. You have to deal and communicate with moronic, over-gooned and pot-bellied (They recruit anyone these days!) security staff, which I think always ends with me wasting precious saliva. And as if that’s not bad enough, I literally got kicked by the official camera operator for the tour, who, truth be told, looked like a sex-starved, cross- breed version of bartender Moe Syzlak from The Simpsons, and a ferret. This dude was truly a malicious little runt. I wasn’t the only photographer whom he kicked because we were in his way. I honestly wanted to start something, but then I realised that he was not worth it at all. Besides, any action I’d have taken there would have some consequences towards photographers and myself at any future live music gigs.
But how about the performance of Mr. Shyne Ward? Well, I really couldn’t say he was good or not. I just wanted to get the shot I needed and leave. I thought the projection of him in the background during the show was a bit narcissistic, but hey: whatever rocks your boat, I guess. I can’t even describe to you his kind of music, to which I had one fan have a go at me because of my lack of “musical knowledge from not watching ITV’s ‘X-Factor’ “. Come on! Like I have nothing better to do with my time!! Yet, to the thousands of adoring fans who turned out in force for this ‘Justin Timberlake Lite’ performer, they gave him their undying love. Although I left after the second song, I’m sure they’d have tossed a couple of pants and bras thrown on the stage for good measure.
Can’t hate the guy: I wish him all the best. But I ain’t no fan!: