Latest news with #Kraftwerk
Yahoo
07-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Wimbledon's electronic line calling failure is a victory for humanity
It's been 44 years since electronic music innovators Kraftwerk released the mournful, melodic, moving masterpiece 'Computer Love'. And if that seems like a strange place to start an article on Wimbledon, let's not forget there's currently no love for the computer line judge in SW19, a system replacing a craft that did work. With that painfully tenuous intro out of the way: the implementation of electronic line calling (ELC) at this year's Wimbledon, a technology already used elsewhere on the tour, was always going to be controversial. The Championships at the All England Club are a tournament steeped in tradition, positively drenched in it – from the customary white attire adorned by players, to the men's and women's title winners dancing at the Champions' Ball, to revellers relaxing on Henman Hill and enjoying Pimm's, strawberries and cream. Advertisement Similarly, there was always a charm in seeing a legion of line judges, dressed smartly in colours of cream and blue, march onto court before a match. Of course, there was the possibility of margin for error, yet you'd like to think there was always an understanding among fans when a line judge got a call wrong; even players, caught up in the emotions of trying to win tennis's most prestigious tournament, were largely forgiving. And the introduction of Hawk-Eye in 2007, giving players the ability to challenge calls, marked a sensible step into the present while retaining the tradition of employing real people on court to make the big calls. For 147 years, human line judges were used, until it was announced that 2025 would represent a leap into a bold new era (which basically no one wanted to enter), with ELC replacing actual line judges. One could argue, of course, that the stakes are so high at Wimbledon, both historically and monetarily, that relying on an electronic system might be the right call – no pun intended. However, that is based on the premise that the electronic system is more accurate than the human eye, a premise that has been challenged (again, no pun intended, honestly) this week. Anastasia Pavlyuchenkova challenged the umpire after an error in the line call system (REUTERS) British hopefuls Jack Draper and Emma Raducanu, now both eliminated in SW19, questioned the accuracy of ELC. Raducanu, after her loss to world No 1 Aryna Sabalenka on Friday, even said: 'It's kind of disappointing, the tournament here, that the calls can be so wrong.' Advertisement Yet the boiling point came on Sunday afternoon, when another Briton struck a shot well beyond the baseline, only for ELC to fail to call Sonay Kartal's error. Her opponent, Anastasia Pavlyuchenkova, would have won the game if she had correctly been awarded the point, and she would have led 5-4 in the opening set. What ensued was a bizarre scene. Umpire Nico Helwerth (from Germany, like Kraftwerk, ah?) was admittedly unable to use the video replay that fans at home could see, meaning he pulled out a corded telephone to discuss the matter with fellow officials, before informing the Centre Court crowd that the point had to be replayed. Pavlyuchenkova remained remarkably calm initially, even after losing the replayed point. But when she lost the game itself, she used the change of ends to vent. 'Because she is local, they can say whatever,' the Russian told Helworth, referring to Kartal. 'You took the game away from me.' When Helworth seemed to lay blame at the feet of the system, Pavlyuchenkova retorted: 'They stole the game from me, they stole it.' Pavlyuchenkova shows her frustration (Getty Images) Ultimately, Pavlyuchenkova broke Kartal's serve as the latter failed to close out the set, and the Russian went on to earn a straight-sets win. Yet imagine she had lost the first set, especially in the game after ELC's error. Imagine she had lost the match. Advertisement Again, some observers might claim this could have occurred in years gone by, with a human line judge making the mistake. Yet at least players had the chance to challenge these calls, and not lose one of their allotted challenges if they were successful in appealing the call. Perhaps we are all sceptical right now, in a world in which new technology is seemingly causing as many problems as solutions. Perhaps there's something a bit too Terminator about the rise of these machines. Indeed, having to specify 'human' line judges multiple times is a jarring move for a Monday morning. Ironically, Wimbledon's apology included a mention of 'human error'. 'The live ELC system relies on the Hawk-Eye operators, the review official and the technology to work in harmony. 'This did not happen,' said a spokesperson. 'In this instance, there was a human error and, as a consequence, we have fully reviewed our processes and made the appropriate changes. We continue to have full confidence in the accuracy of the ball-tracking technology.' Umpire Nico Helworth figuring out how to tackle the issue on court (AP) So, a human is still to blame for a mistake that could have been oh so costly? Or would the removal of a seemingly convoluted electronic system have at least cut out the electronic middleman, simplifying the whole process? You could argue all day, fizzing a fuzzy, verbal tennis ball over the net back and forth. Or you could admit that there was never really anything wrong with how things used to be.
Yahoo
07-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Wimbledon's electronic line calling failure is a victory for humanity
It's been 44 years since electronic music innovators Kraftwerk released the mournful, melodic, moving masterpiece 'Computer Love'. And if that seems like a strange place to start an article on Wimbledon, let's not forget there's currently no love for the computer line judge in SW19, a system replacing a craft that did work. With that painfully tenuous intro out of the way: the implementation of electronic line calling (ELC) at this year's Wimbledon, a technology already used elsewhere on the tour, was always going to be controversial. The Championships at the All England Club are a tournament steeped in tradition, positively drenched in it – from the customary white attire adorned by players, to the men's and women's title winners dancing at the Champions' Ball, to revellers relaxing on Henman Hill and enjoying Pimm's, strawberries and cream. Advertisement Similarly, there was always a charm in seeing a legion of line judges, dressed smartly in colours of cream and blue, march onto court before a match. Of course, there was the possibility of margin for error, yet you'd like to think there was always an understanding among fans when a line judge got a call wrong; even players, caught up in the emotions of trying to win tennis's most prestigious tournament, were largely forgiving. And the introduction of Hawk-Eye in 2007, giving players the ability to challenge calls, marked a sensible step into the present while retaining the tradition of employing real people on court to make the big calls. For 147 years, human line judges were used, until it was announced that 2025 would represent a leap into a bold new era (which basically no one wanted to enter), with ELC replacing actual line judges. One could argue, of course, that the stakes are so high at Wimbledon, both historically and monetarily, that relying on an electronic system might be the right call – no pun intended. However, that is based on the premise that the electronic system is more accurate than the human eye, a premise that has been challenged (again, no pun intended, honestly) this week. Anastasia Pavlyuchenkova challenged the umpire after an error in the line call system (REUTERS) British hopefuls Jack Draper and Emma Raducanu, now both eliminated in SW19, questioned the accuracy of ELC. Raducanu, after her loss to world No 1 Aryna Sabalenka on Friday, even said: 'It's kind of disappointing, the tournament here, that the calls can be so wrong.' Advertisement Yet the boiling point came on Sunday afternoon, when another Briton struck a shot well beyond the baseline, only for ELC to fail to call Sonay Kartal's error. Her opponent, Anastasia Pavlyuchenkova, would have won the game if she had correctly been awarded the point, and she would have led 5-4 in the opening set. What ensued was a bizarre scene. Umpire Nico Helwerth (from Germany, like Kraftwerk, ah?) was admittedly unable to use the video replay that fans at home could see, meaning he pulled out a corded telephone to discuss the matter with fellow officials, before informing the Centre Court crowd that the point had to be replayed. Pavlyuchenkova remained remarkably calm initially, even after losing the replayed point. But when she lost the game itself, she used the change of ends to vent. 'Because she is local, they can say whatever,' the Russian told Helworth, referring to Kartal. 'You took the game away from me.' When Helworth seemed to lay blame at the feet of the system, Pavlyuchenkova retorted: 'They stole the game from me, they stole it.' Pavlyuchenkova shows her frustration (Getty Images) Ultimately, Pavlyuchenkova broke Kartal's serve as the latter failed to close out the set, and the Russian went on to earn a straight-sets win. Yet imagine she had lost the first set, especially in the game after ELC's error. Imagine she had lost the match. Advertisement Again, some observers might claim this could have occurred in years gone by, with a human line judge making the mistake. Yet at least players had the chance to challenge these calls, and not lose one of their allotted challenges if they were successful in appealing the call. Perhaps we are all sceptical right now, in a world in which new technology is seemingly causing as many problems as solutions. Perhaps there's something a bit too Terminator about the rise of these machines. Indeed, having to specify 'human' line judges multiple times is a jarring move for a Monday morning. Ironically, Wimbledon's apology included a mention of 'human error'. 'The live ELC system relies on the Hawk-Eye operators, the review official and the technology to work in harmony. 'This did not happen,' said a spokesperson. 'In this instance, there was a human error and, as a consequence, we have fully reviewed our processes and made the appropriate changes. We continue to have full confidence in the accuracy of the ball-tracking technology.' Umpire Nico Helworth figuring out how to tackle the issue on court (AP) So, a human is still to blame for a mistake that could have been oh so costly? Or would the removal of a seemingly convoluted electronic system have at least cut out the electronic middleman, simplifying the whole process? You could argue all day, fizzing a fuzzy, verbal tennis ball over the net back and forth. Or you could admit that there was never really anything wrong with how things used to be.
The Independent
07-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Independent
Electronic line calling at Wimbledon is an unnecessary disaster of their own making
It's been 44 years since electronic music innovators Kraftwerk released the mournful, melodic, moving masterpiece 'Computer Love'. And if that seems like a strange place to start an article on Wimbledon, let's not forget there's currently no love for the computer judging line calls in SW19, a system replacing a craft that did work. The introduction of electronic line calling (ELC) at this year's Wimbledon, a technology already used elsewhere on the tour, was always going to be controversial. The Championships at the All England Club are a tournament steeped in tradition, positively drenched in it – from the customary white attire adorned by players, to the men's and women's title winners dancing at the Champions' Ball, to revellers relaxing on Henman Hill and enjoying Pimm's, strawberries and cream. Similarly, there was always a charm in seeing a legion of line judges, dressed smartly in colours of cream and blue, march onto court before a match. Of course, there was the possibility of margin for error, yet you'd like to think there was always an understanding among fans when a line judge got a call wrong; even players, caught up in the emotions of trying to win tennis 's most prestigious tournament, were largely forgiving. And the introduction of Hawk-Eye in 2007, giving players the ability to challenge calls, marked a sensible step into the present while retaining the tradition of employing real people on court to make the big calls. For 147 years, human line judges were used, until it was announced that 2025 would represent a leap into a bold new era (which basically no one wanted to enter), with ELC replacing actual line judges. One could argue, of course, that the stakes are so high at Wimbledon, both historically and monetarily, that relying on an electronic system might be the right call – no pun intended. However, that is based on the premise that the electronic system is more accurate than the human eye, a premise that has been challenged (again, no pun intended, honestly) this week. British hopefuls Jack Draper and Emma Raducanu, now both eliminated in SW19, questioned the accuracy of ELC. Raducanu, after her loss to world No 1 Aryna Sabalenka on Friday, even said: 'It's kind of disappointing, the tournament here, that the calls can be so wrong.' Yet the boiling point came on Sunday afternoon, when another Briton struck a shot well beyond the baseline, only for ELC to fail to call Sonay Kartal 's error. Her opponent, Anastasia Pavlyuchenkova, would have won the game if she had correctly been awarded the point, and she would have led 5-4 in the opening set. What ensued was a bizarre scene. Umpire Nico Helwerth (from Germany, like Kraftwerk, ah?) was admittedly unable to use the video replay that fans at home could see, meaning he pulled out a corded telephone to discuss the matter with fellow officials, before informing the Centre Court crowd that the point had to be replayed. Pavlyuchenkova remained remarkably calm initially, even after losing the replayed point. But when she lost the game itself, she used the change of ends to vent. 'Because she is local, they can say whatever,' the Russian told Helworth, referring to Kartal. 'You took the game away from me.' When Helworth seemed to lay blame at the feet of the system, Pavlyuchenkova retorted: 'They stole the game from me, they stole it.' Ultimately, Pavlyuchenkova broke Kartal's serve as the latter failed to close out the set, and the Russian went on to earn a straight-sets win. Yet imagine she had lost the first set, especially in the game after ELC's error. Imagine she had lost the match. Again, some observers might claim this could have occurred in years gone by, with a human line judge making the mistake. Yet at least players had the chance to challenge these calls, and not lose one of their allotted challenges if they were successful in appealing the call. Perhaps we are all sceptical right now, in a world in which new technology is seemingly causing as many problems as solutions. Perhaps there's something a bit too Terminator about the rise of these machines. Indeed, having to specify 'human' line judges multiple times is a jarring move for a Monday morning. Ironically, Wimbledon's apology included a mention of 'human error'. 'The live ELC system relies on the Hawk-Eye operators, the review official and the technology to work in harmony. 'This did not happen,' said a spokesperson. 'In this instance, there was a human error and, as a consequence, we have fully reviewed our processes and made the appropriate changes. We continue to have full confidence in the accuracy of the ball-tracking technology.' So, a human is still to blame for a mistake that could have been oh so costly? Or would the removal of a seemingly convoluted electronic system have at least cut out the electronic middleman, simplifying the whole process? You could argue all day, fizzing a fuzzy, verbal tennis ball over the net back and forth. Or you could admit that there was never really anything wrong with how things used to be.
Irish Daily Mirror
05-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Daily Mirror
Forever Now festival delivers post-punk and goth glory at Milton Keynes debut
I'd never been to Milton Keynes until last month when I ventured to the 60,000-capacity arena The National Bowl for a celebration of all things post-punk, alternative rock and Goth. Along with Kraftwerk. And Berlin. The occasion was the first Forever Now festival, a one-day event targeting a niche musical audience with figureheads from a scene that was largely born and bred in the UK. Even though this was actually a sister festival to Goldenvoice's celebrated Cruel World festival in California. You would have expected the crowd to be, like me, enthusiastic music fans of a certain age, and while that was predominantly the case, there were plenty of dazzling young goths encountered throughout the nine-hour music marathon which was spread across two stages. Our lively day of entertainment began with a superb funky punky set from Kirk Brandon and Theatre of Hate on The Other Stage, which was located in front of a dusty area that was far too small and narrow for the large numbers it attracted throughout the proceedings. We then embarked on a tour of the festival site, a natural amphitheatre surrounded by a sheltered walkway housing a decent mix of food and drink stalls. However, it would transpire that there were not enough vendors, as the food ran out shortly after 8pm. Also in short supply were easy-to-see signposts, but every festival I've been to runs into teething problems that are usually ironed out on subsequent outings. We were here for the music, after all, and thankfully this was one of the most stellar line-ups of 2025. While waiting for cult Manchester band The Chameleons, we saw Berlin performing their one big hit Take My Breath away. Singer Terri Nunn informed us that in America, the music on offer at Forever Now is called darkwave. The Chameleons' singer may have looked like a throwback to Bono in U2's War era, but the band's angst-ridden anthems sounded fresh and vibrant. It was a solid set you wished had gone on longer. Next up was an absolutely storming set from Psychedelic Furs with frontman Richard Butler on outstanding form and the band looking as much the part as in their heyday. We caught the climax of John Lydon and PIL's tour de force on The Other Stage where there was a huge swell of people clamouring to see the ex-Pistol in action. We dashed back to catch Johnny Marr who rocked out the most perfect main stage outing of the day; an array of Smiths classics peppered with solo hits, an Iggy Pop cover and Electronic's Manc disco anthem Getting Away With It. Grown men and women were in tears when he launched into Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want. Billy Idol and revered axesmith Steve Stevens followed while over on The Other Stage, things had started going awry during indie dance upstarts Happy Mondays set, which seemed to spill over into pleasing aural assaults from The Damned and Jesus and Mary Chain who later voiced criticisms on social media about their sets starting late and being cut short. The festival organisers have since apologised for what they called 'technical problems'. To be fair, there was a solid PA on The Other Stage delivering the sonic goods - especially for The Cult's thrilling closing set - but to be fair it paled in comparison to the pristine sound system on offer at the main stage which was best exemplified by a divine run from The The. It was my first time seeing Matt Johnson and his cohorts who were joined for two songs by former member Johnny Marr. More emotion. German electronic pioneers Kraftwerk brought things to a climax with an audio-visual masterclass that seamlessly blended crystal clear sound, performance art and digital animation with panache and thunderous kick drums and basslines you could feel vibrating inside your core. They were not the ideal closing act for this crowd but the iconic band's mesmerising visuals would not have worked outdoors any earlier in the day. Overall, it was an exciting celebration of alternative culture and we hope there will be a return adventure in 2026.
Newsweek
02-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Newsweek
'The Running Man' to 'Squid Game'—Why We're All Obsessed With Death Games
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. As Edgar Wright's trailer for The Running Man trends online ahead of its November release, the popularity of the upcoming film and its predecessor signals our recurring fascination with dystopian spectacles where survival becomes entertainment. From Netflix's record-breaking Squid Game to the enduring legacy of The Hunger Games, so-called "death game shows" continue to grip the public imagination—particularly among millennial and Gen Z viewers. The new adaptation of The Running Man, based on Stephen King's 1982 novel, follows a long line of stories centered around human lives being wagered for fame, fortune or spectacle. Experts say these stories, sometimes framed as critiques of capitalism or authoritarianism, have entered mainstream entertainment in a time of increasing digital surveillance, income inequality and disconnection. "While there is some intrinsic attraction to violence at play," Jordan Conrad, a psychotherapist and founder of Madison Park Psychotherapy, told Newsweek. "Perhaps the larger component drawing audiences to the 'death game show' genre is the increasing sense of alienation felt by so many people." From left: Mascots pose at the experiential launch event for "Squid Game" season two at Kraftwerk on December 12, 2024 in Berlin, Germany; and actor Jennifer Lawrence on the set of the film "The Hunger... From left: Mascots pose at the experiential launch event for "Squid Game" season two at Kraftwerk on December 12, 2024 in Berlin, Germany; and actor Jennifer Lawrence on the set of the film "The Hunger Games" in North Carolina, 2011. More Getty Images Conrad, also a published philosopher with contributions to multiple Oxford Handbooks, said the enduring genre reflects how depersonalized many feel in a system that appears to prioritize metrics over meaning. "Our social interactions are increasingly mediated by programs that we know are surveilling us; our romantic lives have been taken over by apps, and stable features of the 'good life' feel ever out of reach for the average person," Conrad said. "The sum total of this is that our lives feel commodified—the most-important thing about us is our data." Originally adapted for film in 1987 with Arnold Schwarzenegger in the lead role, The Running Man portrayed a dystopia where selected individuals are forced to fight to the death on live TV. Decades later, The Hunger Games modernized the concept for a young adult audience, highlighting class divisions and authoritarian spectacle. Then came Squid Game, which exploded globally in 2021 by reframing childhood games as lethal contests for desperate debtors. These stories can be seen as more than just violent thrillers crafted for entertainment, or as marketing ploys put together by producers who noticed rising public interest in true crime. For younger audiences, they reflect growing anxieties about survival in an increasingly transactional world—and what people are willing to sacrifice for security or relevance. Conrad draws a parallel between these fictional worlds and the rise of viral internet stunts that degrade or exploit others for public attention. "Many prominent internet 'celebrities' have become famous for doing awful things—spraying vegetables in supermarkets with poisonous chemicals; licking ice-cream in the store and putting it back; giving unhoused people Oreos filled with toothpaste," Conrad said. "These are also the behaviors we see in the 'death game show' genre—people enhancing or maintaining their position by getting others, often vulnerable people, to perform degrading and dangerous tasks for the camera." Edgar Wright and Glen Powell promote the upcoming film "The Running Man" at the Paramount Pictures presentation during CinemaCon at Caesars Palace on April 3 in Las Vegas, Nevada. Edgar Wright and Glen Powell promote the upcoming film "The Running Man" at the Paramount Pictures presentation during CinemaCon at Caesars Palace on April 3 in Las Vegas, Nevada. Getty Images Streaming services and social-media platforms have further blurred the line between viewer and participant, pushing users into performative roles where attention is currency and personal value is algorithmically determined. Conrad's observations reach beyond generational grievances. He draws on 19th- and 20th-century thinkers such as Friedrich Nietzsche, Jean-Paul Sartre and Frantz Fanon, who also grappled with the meaning of life under alienating systems. Other films, while not fitting the "death game" mold precisely, offer adjacent critiques. Bong Joon Ho's Parasite and Ruben Östlund's Triangle of Sadness examine the moral and social costs of status obsession. Bo Burnham's claustrophobic comedy special Inside dissects the mental strain of living in a hyper-digital society. "Because the essential features of the 'death game show' are the commodification of humanity … and the feeling of the meaninglessness of life, many other movies join the genre," Conrad said. "When prestige is synonymous with value … life can feel futile when you are so far away from having any." As Wright's update of The Running Man approaches theatrical release, its timely return suggests this fascination is far from fading.
