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.
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