In a development that has sent seismic tremors through the corridors of power at the BRIT School and beyond, Olivia Rodrigo has reportedly selected her wedding anthem. Sources close to the singer, who wish to remain anonymous for fear of being drowned in a tidal wave of glitter, confirm that the track is a deeply moving, emotionally resonant piece of music. It is, of course, 'Drivers License'.
What else could possibly soundtrack the nuptials of a woman who has made a career out of examining the wreckage of youthful romance? The British music industry, a collection of gentlemen in ill-fitting suits whose primary function is to pat each other on the back at awards ceremonies, has responded with characteristic restraint. They have wept openly into their glasses of lukewarm Chardonnay.
They have declared this the most important cultural event since the Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan. They have, in short, lost their collective minds. 'This is a moment of national importance,' spluttered one record executive, his monocle fogging with patriotic fervour.
'It is a celebration of love, of commitment, of the enduring power of the pop song.' It is, let us be honest, none of these things. It is a carefully orchestrated publicity stunt designed to shift units and generate headlines during the otherwise fallow season of royal wedding fever.
The monarchy, that great British institution of tax-funded pageantry and questionable genetics, has once again provided a convenient backdrop for the entertainment industry to flog its wares. We are assured that the wedding will be a tasteful affair. There will be no mention of the fact that the anthem in question is a barely disguised tantrum about a teenage breakup.
There will be no acknowledgement that the groom is, in all likelihood, as terrified as a man being asked to choose between a bullet and a knife. But let us not be cynical. Let us instead raise a glass of whatever passes for gin in this benighted isle and toast the glorious absurdity of it all.
Olivia Rodrigo has chosen a wedding anthem. The British music industry has celebrated. And somewhere, a minor royal is wondering why nobody told him the guest list included a woman who can reduce a stadium to tears with a single chord change.
It is, in short, a very British farce. And we are all invited.
