Jiving with Virginia

The Heritage Secretary invited to the Brits? Has pop lost the fire in its belly, asks Steve Redmond

If 1995 was the year of the battle between Blur and Oasis, then 1996 is likely to be about the love affair between Blair and Oasis.

The Labour leader has made no secret of the fact that he aims to be the nation's first rock'n'roll Prime Minister, turning up with monotonous regularity at music industry events. Meanwhile, the record companies responsible for this Monday's Brit Awards excitedly report that their guest of honour is to be that well-known technohead Virginia Bottomley, the Heritage Secretary.

That is not the end of it. As a curtain-raiser to the Brits, tonight sees the launch of Rock the Vote, an explicit attempt to use music to mobilise young voters. The word is clearly out in Westminster - pop is hip, daddy-o.

The advantages for the politicians are clear: it is a chance to make their politics more "relevant", an opportunity to reach that elusive young voter. But what of the music industry itself? Isn't it just a wee bit embarrassing for those at the vanguard of youth music to be seen in the the company of middle-aged MPs whose taste most likely veers more towards Andrew Lloyd Webber than Babylon Zoo?

Should any self-respecting pop star be seriously hobnobbing with Tory cabinet ministers anyway? Is sex, drugs and rock'n'roll to be replaced by cheese and wine and the constituency social? Whatever has happened to pop music as rebellion?

There was a time when pop prided itself on its ability to upset the Establishment. Whether it was PJ Proby's exercises in trouser-splitting in the Sixties, or the Sex Pistols hijacking the Queen's Silver Jubilee celebrations in the Seventies, or Frankie Goes To Hollywood coming over all S&M in the Eighties, outrage has ever been the stock in trade of pop music. Now, however, it seems determined to cosy up to the former enemy.

Is pop becoming senile? Has it lost the fire in its belly? It is nearly 40 years since Elvis the Pelvis first swivelled his hips; is pop just plain middle-aged?

Sad to say, for all of those who delight in believing that everything was always better in the old days, the answer is a bit more complicated. Pop stars themselves are, in the main, as wanton and mercurial as ever. Just look at the rags-to-riches story of Oasis with their loudmouthed Mancunian excess - not to mention rude remarks about Damon-from-Blur's girlfriend.

Despite the advent of the middle-aged rocker, pop is still essentially a young person's music. And since there is always a constant influx of new acts experiencing sex, drugs and rock'n'roll for the very first time, pop music will never grow up. Nor should it: pop music should not be sensible, mature, politically correct and emotionally stable.

What has grown up is the music industry itself. Figures released last year showed that the UK music industry earns about pounds 1bn a year in recording and publishing royalties. It earns more for the UK than traditional heavy industries such as steel.

Music is big business and, as such, it needs to have the ear of the government, whether it be in ensuring that copyright legislation covers new media such as the Internet or in enlisting its aid in disputes with foreign governments.

They say that the best deal is one in which both sides win. And this is what really happens when Bottomley agrees to hang out at the Brit Awards. Our Ginny gets her photo opportunity - and perhaps even the chance to meet Michael Jackson - and the music industry has a chance to bend her ear and ensure that British pop continues to ring tills in music stores around the world.

The writer is editor-in-chief of 'Music Week'