We are back for Week 2 of the X Factor and, after last weeks marathon edition that seemed to last so long we had to ditch the concept of time altogether and consider it a feat of collective national endurance like the blitz, we've said goodbye to FYD and Nicolo. Who? I hear you ask, bah typical, I bet you don't remember Gamu either. Me neither actually, and probably neither do any of the 250,000 people who now regret joining her facebook group. Dermot introduces the show and is now so bland and devoid of personality that it is officially frightening. Seriously, he might as well present the show via fax, at least then we'd get a chuckle as he misspells Katie's last name weasel instead of Waissel. This weeks theme is usefully vague “heroes” Which, rather than making the contestants dress up as cheerleaders and exuberant Asian time-stoppers, means they can choose from any song ever recorded. Brilliant. So,with a markedly less orange Cheryl and a markedly more ginger Louie our judges take their seats and Mr Cowell's annual semi-musical circus of cruelty gets ready for round two. On we go.
STORM: Storm is the contestant this week sacrificed to the graveyard slot, and all his bluster about hanging in there and keeping on going will no doubt come back to bite him in the arse as the producers clearly see him as mindless filler. Storm is this years token rock contestant and nothing says rock like motorbikes and backflipping dancers. Except everything, ever. It's unlikely that even Storm's red hair and eerily earnest personality will save him this week, as, if I'm brutally honest, he wasn't brilliant.
TREYC: X Factor cliché alert! TreyC is singing purple rain! Purple rain is one of those X Factor staples that the stronger singers belt out, so we can all be impressed with how good they are and just how much this means to them. But can the girl with the illiterate name beat Ruth Lorenzo quite brilliant performance of the same song from a few years ago? No, quite frankly, but it's a decent enough performance that should see her through to week 2, where she will have to start showing some individuality.
PAIJE: Paije joins us from the set of Miami Vice, where he's been playing the leader of a Columbian drugs cartel, to sing “If I ain't got you” I say sing, Paije spends a lot of the song wailing seemingly unrelated notes as if he's trying to find out which exact note Leonard Cohen was singing about.
ONE DIRECTION: Once again Simon has decided to ignore his own pointless rules and picked a Kelly Clarkson song for “the most exciting band in the country®” I like to think he chose “My life would suck without you” as a coded message to his own ego. One Direction, however, proceed to make a good fist of sucking all on their own, with or without Cowell. Has anyone noticed that the blond one in one direction is the happiest person in the world? Presumably because he realises that he's blagged himself a free ticket to the final simply by bobbing up and down a bit behind Harry and Liam.
CHER LLOYD: Cher is up next and proves her credibility as a true artist by coming up with the idea to rip off Jay-Z all by herself. Cher is now the most famous British rapper since John Barnes, but she still has some way to go before she can match his smooth lyrical bombs. She has also developed a weird quivering delivery for the bits where she actually does sing. Apparently she's popular with 16 year olds, but then so is miaow miaow and happy slapping. Cheryl praises Cher for looking and sounding like a popstar in a manner that suggests that she's trying to convince herself that it's ok that she's one herself.
JOHN ADELEYE: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
DIVA FEVER: Diva fever camp things up in a desperate bid to rouse the nation from the mass Adeleye induced coma that we all found ourselves in. Apparently Diva Fever's heroes are some band called Duck Sauce that wrote a song called Barbara Streisand. It's entirely believable that Barbara Streisand is Diva Fever's hero, but nobody in the world could ever cite Duck Sauce as a hero unless they have an incredibly low opinion of humanity as a species. Simon says he likes them because they are fun, but does it such a patronising way that it wouldn't be a surprise to find out he'd managed to offend every gay person in the country.
REBECCA: Rebecca has seemingly misunderstood the Heroes theme and decided to perform dressed as Lee Falk's superhero creation “The Phantom” It's entirely credible that Rebecca could infact be a superhero, as she comes across as so nice, it wouldn't be a stretch to believe that's it's all a front to cover up the fact that at night she stalks and mutilates criminals in a manner Dexter would flinch at. Rebecca gives easily the best vocal so far, then says hello to a little boy who came to visit them, giving further credence to my superhero theory.
AIDEN: According to his VT Aiden is struggling to reach the right notes for his performance of “Jealous Guy” Obviously this seems just a cynical ploy to add some sense of drama to proceeding until he comes out and balls it right up, making me question my hard-earned cynacism. It looks bad for Aiden until his interview with Dermot where, in a stroke of genius, he looks all sad and pouts his bottom lip like a Robert Pattinson shaped puppy, thus ensuring his continued surivival for at least the next six weeks. Clever boy, Aiden.
WAGNER: Could Wagner possibly match last weeks exceptional Bongo infused love shack-athon? No, but nothing could match that ever so we forgive him. However, what he does do is belt out “Just help yourself” with such virile hetrosexuality that he makes Tom Jones seem like Boy George. Towards the end of the song the female dancers, much like last week, start to rub themselves. You have to understand that this is not a choreographed routine, but simply a natural consequence of being in such close proximity to Wagner's ferocious masculinity.
KATIE 'WHOS GAMU' WAISSEL: Katie's hero is apparently Etta James and not, as I'd imagined, Loki the Norse god of mischief. For the second week in a row Katie sings perfectly adequately, but, in lieu of her scary desperation to win, adequate just won't cut it. Also, her face is really hard and angular, as if someone had constructed a visage out of Fearn Cotton's personality.
BELLE AMIE: Fooling noone Belle Amie choose the Kinks as their musical heroes. The only thing they could possibly relate to The Kinks over is the internal animosity between Ray and Dave as, judging from their VT, they quite clearly hate each other, which is more than enough reason to keep them in the competition, and certainly more of a reason than their half-arsed rendition of “You really got me.”
MARY: Mary is the next to the stage, and the only contestant in X Factor history to subvert the use of microphones is singing “You don't have to say you love me” But if we do she might stop bellowing and allow us to keep what's left of our ear drums. After a night involving topless male go-go dancers, a psychedelic worm hole behind Aiden and Louie's hair, the sight of someone just singing is strangely invigorating.
MATT: Matt Cardle will close the show and in his VT we see pictures of him from when he was 10 years old where, depressingly, he is sans hat. Damn, I like to imagine he was born with a miniture cap that grew up along with him, but, unfortunately, the X Factor has ruined that illusion for me forever, Matt sings Bruno Mars “Just the way you are” in a staggeringly high falsetto that has probably made all British housewives collective knicker elastic snap. Simon lie's that Matt fell off the melody at points, but he has to say things like that so it looks like he was paying attention. Based on tonight's performances Matt should walk this.
So what have we learned from tonight's show? That Aiden is a sinister Machiavellian genius, that Wagner is the single most awesome collection of cells and organs to develop consciousness, that Matt and Rebecca are so far ahead vocally that it doesn't seem fair, and that Cheryl has managed to look less orange and more of a chav, which is something even N-Dubz haven't managed. It doesn't look good for Storm, John or Belle Amie but what do I know, I'm neither current nor relevant like 51 year old Simon Cowell. It's another double eviction so I have no idea who could be going. Based on tonight I would say Storm and John but then I voted for Kodos.
Monday 18 October 2010
Monday 11 October 2010
GENERATION X : Sniggers with attitude.
The X Factor finals are here! Or, to give it it's full title – The X Factor! OMG!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE CHERYL DIDN'T PUT GAMU THROUGH, THE BITCH, SHE MUST BE RACIST! Or at least that's what it's been dubbed by countless internet message boards. Anyway, amid all the drama, tears, deportations and the criminal fact that geek legends Princes and Rogues were overlooked, there is the small matter of swelling Lord Cowell's burgeoning bank account. To help matters along, I will be playing a drinking game where I have to down a shot every time Simon say's the word relevant; if I manage twenty minutes without severe liver failure I will consider myself as masculine as an Ox made of fists. However, the judges are seated, the wildcards have surprised noone, Louis's looking svelte, but nobody cares, and everyone is getting ready for the next two and a half (TWO AND A HALF!!!) hours of vaguely singing related shannanigans. FYD are up first.
FYD: FYD are singing Billionaire, the lyrics of which are optimistic considering the track record of X Factor winners. FYD keep changing the words to make gratutious references to Simon, which I suppose is meant to come across as quirky and cool, but is actually just annoying and even Simon looks embarrassed. And if Simon Cowell is embarrassed at the mention of his own name, then you're doing something wrong.
MATT: Matt Cardle is back along with his omnipresent hat, which will be useful for him when he has to start busking. Matt sings When Love Takes Over and, preempting me by about an hour and a half, is having trouble keeping his eyes open. At some point Matt will have to sing a song written for a man and the world will stop on it's axis. Probably.
JOHN ADELEYE: John is up next and is singing a daring cover of the Insane Clown Posse track “Psychopathic” complete with full clown makeup and horribly misogynistic lyrics. Except he's not, because that would be far too awesome. Instead, he's been Louie Walshed to within an inch of his life and has managed to make “One Sweet Day” even more boring than it already was. I give him three weeks tops. Score another one for Mr Walsh.
REBECCA: Rebecca Ferguson is on now, and the girl Cheryl had to put through so at least one of her acts could sing, lest this be accused of not really being a singing contest, is singing a quite lovely arrangement of teardrops. Rebecca manages to give a highly accomplished performance without sounding like shes singing actual words, more word-shaped noises that vaguely resemble language but in actual fact are something else entirely.
STORM: Storm Lee is up next, and following John's studied essay on the nature of boredom his new red hair is probably just interesting enough to see him through. He's joined on stage by what can only be described as a squadron of ninja gimps. Does anyone else think that Brain Friedman is still pissed at being sacked as a judge, and is making sure everyone is still aware of his involvement in the show through these ever more ridiculous routines?
BELLE AMIE: Belle Amie now and they've bravely decided to perform Airplanes in the style of four drunk sixteen year olds hogging the Karaoke machine at their end of term disco. No doubt simon will say they're cool and relevant, but I'm beginning to wonder whether he knows what either word really means.
CHER LLOYD: Cheryl's miniature doppleganger takes to the stage and sings a song recently made popular by Lily Allen. The girl who managed, impressively, to kill both rap as a genre and coldplay simply with the words ring-a-dinging, proceeds to do much the same here, and Cheryl's evil plan to get back at Lily Allen is revealed. The audience seem to like her, and when the song ends she does a triumphant little dance that Cheryl thinks is so good she copies her, confirming, beyond doubt, that this is the most “street” episode of the X Factor ever, and that I really don't understand young people anymore.
DIVA FEVER: Considering Simon's new favourite words are current and relevant, it seems odd that his wildcard would be so heavily in debt to wham. But then I don't have my finger on the pulse like 51 year old billionaire Simon Cowell. It's quite obvious that wildcard just means extra act, so why not just put four acts through in the first place? Diva Fever sing Sunny in the style of Wham imitating Jedward, and we're all encouraged to forget the last 50 years of gay advances.
PAIJE: The man in possession of the second worst name of any contestant (nothing will top TreyC) bounds on stage looking like a genetic splice between Fat Albert and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Paije claims he's Killing us softly with his sing, but I couldn't imagine him killing anything, softly or otherwise. Unfortunately his performance reminds everyone of Sean Kingston's continued existence and that can't be a good thing, ever.
NOT GAMU: Not Gamu is up next and faces a bigger uphill struggle for the public's affections than if Gary Glitter had got through to the live shows. Not Gamu gives a competent performance of We Are The Champions that isn't the worst vocal of the night by far. But people will forget that because a.) She's wearing a helmet that looks like it was used when welding a spaceship together, b.) She mimed playing a keyboard. Badly. And c.) She's not even a little bit Gamu. Be afraid Katie, be very afraid.
MARY BYRNES: Mary takes to the stage and is, by some distance, the loudest singer in the history of the X Factor. She bellows “This is a mans world” terrifyingly at the judges for four minutes, like she's waiting for them curl into a ball and concede that it's not. Dermot askes the judges for their opinions but they all speak at such lowly decibels it's hard to take them seriously.
NICOLO: Is the next finalist to sing for our affections and Italy's answer to Mika is wearing the worst pair of glasses designed this century. And considering the ubiquity of 3D, and those glasses Kanye West wore for the stronger video thats some going. Nicolo sang lady Gaga, I think, but it's hard to tell after Mary's performance.
ONE DIRECTION perform and Simon's ungodly attempt to create a band entirely of haircuts reaches fruition. One of them looks like a Jonas brother, and the blond one smiles so much throughout this performance you begin to wonder if Simon laced his sippy cup with ecstasy. At the end of the performance Simon praises Liam for something that didn't even happen, proving that he's now so drunk on his own sense of power he believes we will accept his word over the very nature of reality. And, depressingly, he's right.
WAGNER: Wagner is incredible. Not only does he look like Mickey Rourke portraying god, but he performs like he is bellowing commandments to his mortal followers from atop Mount Olympus. Wagner is thy religion and Love Shack is his hymn, we should all start worshiping him now.
AIDEN: Aiden steps onstage looking like Joe Mcelderry would if he borrowed Nick Grimshaw's hair and Cristiano Ronaldo's face. If this wasn't the year X Factor turned it's swag on then he would have this in the bag. But, unfortunately for Aiden he's only swagging at a Vanilla Ice level when Cher is already up there with Missy Elliot. He need's to find some swaggage and fast.
TreyC: Although I have serious misgivings against anyone who spells their name TreyC, I have to admit she can sing. TreyC is dressed like Pam Grier playing Wonder Woman, but at no point does she either rap or play bongos. She isn't even surrounded by pointless dancers trying to spell out Brian Friedmans name so we all know he still exists. Get it together TreyC or people will think this is a singing competition.
So there we are, all 342 finalists have performed and, like everyone else in the country I can barely remember FYD. Looking at it from this early stage the front runners would be One Direction, Cher. Matt and TreyC. So exactly the same as before tonight then, proving that, although the X Factor probably isn't fixed, it's as searingly predictable as ever. We have learnt some important lessons though: Firstly Wagner is a glorious mountain of a man, John Adeleye is screwed and if Harry and Liam manage not to fall out during an epic power struggle One Direction will sail through to the final and that rapping, despite being a cop out when Jedward did it, is now current and relevant. What a difference 12 months makes.
FYD: FYD are singing Billionaire, the lyrics of which are optimistic considering the track record of X Factor winners. FYD keep changing the words to make gratutious references to Simon, which I suppose is meant to come across as quirky and cool, but is actually just annoying and even Simon looks embarrassed. And if Simon Cowell is embarrassed at the mention of his own name, then you're doing something wrong.
MATT: Matt Cardle is back along with his omnipresent hat, which will be useful for him when he has to start busking. Matt sings When Love Takes Over and, preempting me by about an hour and a half, is having trouble keeping his eyes open. At some point Matt will have to sing a song written for a man and the world will stop on it's axis. Probably.
JOHN ADELEYE: John is up next and is singing a daring cover of the Insane Clown Posse track “Psychopathic” complete with full clown makeup and horribly misogynistic lyrics. Except he's not, because that would be far too awesome. Instead, he's been Louie Walshed to within an inch of his life and has managed to make “One Sweet Day” even more boring than it already was. I give him three weeks tops. Score another one for Mr Walsh.
REBECCA: Rebecca Ferguson is on now, and the girl Cheryl had to put through so at least one of her acts could sing, lest this be accused of not really being a singing contest, is singing a quite lovely arrangement of teardrops. Rebecca manages to give a highly accomplished performance without sounding like shes singing actual words, more word-shaped noises that vaguely resemble language but in actual fact are something else entirely.
STORM: Storm Lee is up next, and following John's studied essay on the nature of boredom his new red hair is probably just interesting enough to see him through. He's joined on stage by what can only be described as a squadron of ninja gimps. Does anyone else think that Brain Friedman is still pissed at being sacked as a judge, and is making sure everyone is still aware of his involvement in the show through these ever more ridiculous routines?
BELLE AMIE: Belle Amie now and they've bravely decided to perform Airplanes in the style of four drunk sixteen year olds hogging the Karaoke machine at their end of term disco. No doubt simon will say they're cool and relevant, but I'm beginning to wonder whether he knows what either word really means.
CHER LLOYD: Cheryl's miniature doppleganger takes to the stage and sings a song recently made popular by Lily Allen. The girl who managed, impressively, to kill both rap as a genre and coldplay simply with the words ring-a-dinging, proceeds to do much the same here, and Cheryl's evil plan to get back at Lily Allen is revealed. The audience seem to like her, and when the song ends she does a triumphant little dance that Cheryl thinks is so good she copies her, confirming, beyond doubt, that this is the most “street” episode of the X Factor ever, and that I really don't understand young people anymore.
DIVA FEVER: Considering Simon's new favourite words are current and relevant, it seems odd that his wildcard would be so heavily in debt to wham. But then I don't have my finger on the pulse like 51 year old billionaire Simon Cowell. It's quite obvious that wildcard just means extra act, so why not just put four acts through in the first place? Diva Fever sing Sunny in the style of Wham imitating Jedward, and we're all encouraged to forget the last 50 years of gay advances.
PAIJE: The man in possession of the second worst name of any contestant (nothing will top TreyC) bounds on stage looking like a genetic splice between Fat Albert and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Paije claims he's Killing us softly with his sing, but I couldn't imagine him killing anything, softly or otherwise. Unfortunately his performance reminds everyone of Sean Kingston's continued existence and that can't be a good thing, ever.
NOT GAMU: Not Gamu is up next and faces a bigger uphill struggle for the public's affections than if Gary Glitter had got through to the live shows. Not Gamu gives a competent performance of We Are The Champions that isn't the worst vocal of the night by far. But people will forget that because a.) She's wearing a helmet that looks like it was used when welding a spaceship together, b.) She mimed playing a keyboard. Badly. And c.) She's not even a little bit Gamu. Be afraid Katie, be very afraid.
MARY BYRNES: Mary takes to the stage and is, by some distance, the loudest singer in the history of the X Factor. She bellows “This is a mans world” terrifyingly at the judges for four minutes, like she's waiting for them curl into a ball and concede that it's not. Dermot askes the judges for their opinions but they all speak at such lowly decibels it's hard to take them seriously.
NICOLO: Is the next finalist to sing for our affections and Italy's answer to Mika is wearing the worst pair of glasses designed this century. And considering the ubiquity of 3D, and those glasses Kanye West wore for the stronger video thats some going. Nicolo sang lady Gaga, I think, but it's hard to tell after Mary's performance.
ONE DIRECTION perform and Simon's ungodly attempt to create a band entirely of haircuts reaches fruition. One of them looks like a Jonas brother, and the blond one smiles so much throughout this performance you begin to wonder if Simon laced his sippy cup with ecstasy. At the end of the performance Simon praises Liam for something that didn't even happen, proving that he's now so drunk on his own sense of power he believes we will accept his word over the very nature of reality. And, depressingly, he's right.
WAGNER: Wagner is incredible. Not only does he look like Mickey Rourke portraying god, but he performs like he is bellowing commandments to his mortal followers from atop Mount Olympus. Wagner is thy religion and Love Shack is his hymn, we should all start worshiping him now.
AIDEN: Aiden steps onstage looking like Joe Mcelderry would if he borrowed Nick Grimshaw's hair and Cristiano Ronaldo's face. If this wasn't the year X Factor turned it's swag on then he would have this in the bag. But, unfortunately for Aiden he's only swagging at a Vanilla Ice level when Cher is already up there with Missy Elliot. He need's to find some swaggage and fast.
TreyC: Although I have serious misgivings against anyone who spells their name TreyC, I have to admit she can sing. TreyC is dressed like Pam Grier playing Wonder Woman, but at no point does she either rap or play bongos. She isn't even surrounded by pointless dancers trying to spell out Brian Friedmans name so we all know he still exists. Get it together TreyC or people will think this is a singing competition.
So there we are, all 342 finalists have performed and, like everyone else in the country I can barely remember FYD. Looking at it from this early stage the front runners would be One Direction, Cher. Matt and TreyC. So exactly the same as before tonight then, proving that, although the X Factor probably isn't fixed, it's as searingly predictable as ever. We have learnt some important lessons though: Firstly Wagner is a glorious mountain of a man, John Adeleye is screwed and if Harry and Liam manage not to fall out during an epic power struggle One Direction will sail through to the final and that rapping, despite being a cop out when Jedward did it, is now current and relevant. What a difference 12 months makes.
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