Duran Duran along with many other bands will never be the same and why is because now in this decade of 2017 we have internet we have data that this generation can go to. You don't need a record company anymore either you have You Tube you can video yourself where ever you want sing do whatever post it for free there you go.
So many things in our time have changed some for good some well IMO not so grand but its the time I guess if one says so.
On this note I here is the article I found on why a phenomenon like Duran Duran will never happen again. I also found the video and interview of "Gimme a wristband" as well.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xp_pr7WNSVQ&ytbChannel=alleycatau
So enjoy have fun may you keep reaching for your dreams be kind to one another and enjoy the ones around you loved ones, friends and nature.
Kimberly
TV REALITY MOM
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http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/why-a-phenomenon-like-duran-duran-may-never-happen_us_58eab407e4b06f8c18beed47
Why a Phenomenon Like Duran Duran May Never Happen Again
Bigger than One Direction?
Bigger.
Bigger than Justin Bieber?
Bigger.
Bigger than Taylor Swift?
Bigger.
Trying
to describe Duran Duran to a teenager in 2017 is like trying to explain
why nearly every human loves coffee and chocolate – it’s not the
science behind the reasoning, it’s the taste behind the desire.
Kids
today are armed with mountains of data, so they can easily Google chart
positions and recording sales to bolster any argument against you. But
to get your point across about Duran Duran – which first came together
in Birmingham, England in 1978 to mesh the grooves of Chic with the glam
of Roxy Music – all you have to do is play the band’s 1982 hit “Hungry
Like the Wolf” or 2015’s “Pressure Off “(feat. Nile Rodgers and Janelle
Monae). Or, better yet, take your brood to an amphitheater as beautiful
as Atlanta’s Chastain Park and teach them how to light up the night by holding their smartphones in the air for a three-decades-old tune, “Save A Prayer.”
Singing
along at a live concert is not a generation-specific activity, nor is
the excitement of experiencing thousands of people filling the sky with
their voices in unison. At Duran Duran’s shows, this sort of thing
happens during every song (on other continents, too: check out Lollapalooza
in Chile last week). While a James Bond theme (”A View to a Kill”), a
funky dance number (”I Don’t Want Your Love”), and a three-word new wave
chant (”Girls on Film”)
aren’t timeless ballads about true love or world peace, they are
precious to followers of the band in ways that perhaps aren’t
understood by fans of recent groups. Do 21st century artists share their
lives with fans in tangible ways? Absolutely. Anyone who is the parent
of a teenager knows that the moment pop singer Halsey
posts a new single or the members of rock duo Twenty One Pilots change
their hair color, the internet breaks and we’re all headed to Hot Topic
to buy a new bottle of Manic Panic “Fuchsia Shock” dye. Yet, Duran Duran
has a relationship with its fans that is unique and will likely never
be repeated.
Here’s why:
Like
Elvis and The Beatles before them, Duran Duran first fueled their pop
engine with screaming teens. But the multimedia smorgasbord of the 1950s
and 1960s, which allowed fans to “meet” Elvis and the The Beatles on
the Ed Sullivan show and plaster magazine posters on their bedroom
walls, had by the 1980s MTV era evolved to include home recording of sounds and images
that could be repeated to infinity – and, most importantly, shared in
the flesh between friends. Ask any Duran Duran fan of a certain age what
the phrase “gimme a wristband” means, and he or she will be able to
describe in detail exactly when and where Simon Le Bon made the
exclamation (in case you’re wondering, I believe it was in the 1984
documentary Sing Blue Silver;
if I’m wrong, another fan will surely let me know). Duran Duran’s fans’
love for the band includes the group’s culture and worldview – which
are steeped in legitimate rock history but also tempered with art,
fashion and travelogues that exposed its listeners and viewers to
painter Auguste Renoir, David Bowie songs (the band did a cover of “Fame” in 1981) and Sri Lankan vistas for the first time.
Life in the internet age is like this: an individual sits alone with a phone, absorbing Drake’s shenanigans in real-time on Instagram and discovering Ed Sheeran’s
latest song inside a Snapchat lens. This isolation cannot compare to
piling on a couch with four friends, two boxes of donuts, and TV playing
a homemade VHS tape compilation of Duran Duran appearances on
Good Morning America. (We should also thank recent technology and
YouTube for exposing musical truths about the band, such as this one.)
The music industry has some exciting days ahead, no doubt, but
phenomena of tomorrow’s bands will not happen the same ways as the
explosion of songs and stardom that make up the hundred-million-selling
Duran Duran, whether you like their music or not. International
licensing laws have changed, thus many artists aren’t truly worldwide
anymore. And while all the hoopla around young artists who hit the big
time helps those performers bring fresh fans into the fold (did you know
Duran Duran’s Nick Rhodes turned 19 just a week before the band’s
self-titled debut was released in 1981?), the soothsayer is always going
to be the music itself. Because an artist will only succeed decades
into the future if the music is built to do the same. Which brings me
back to the show in Atlanta last night: It wasn’t brain surgery,
Gandhi-esque or vying for a Nobel prize. It was “Rio,” jam-packed,
confetti-covered and one more page in a catalog of fun memories still
being formed. Duran Duran played brilliantly onstage, but all 6000 of us
made the music together.