Saturday, 12 October 2013

UK X Factor - Week 7

It's LIVE.  It's the LIVE SHOWS.  LIVE.  Well I expect there's a delay in case Mrs O says "ooooh you are making me juice up like a frigging pomegranate, darling".

So, here we go.  Oh fuck, it's 80s night.  Pass the Country Born hair gel.  The audience is immoderately excited.  I think they've been eating too many Smarties.  What's this Flash vote?  Nothing to do with cleaning floors, I'll be bound.

Hannah Barrett.  Works in Greggs.  Cries an awful lot.  From Croydon I believe.  She has the slot of death, and unfortunately she's a bit flat tonight.  They haven't stinted on wardrobe - a whole new outfit from Littlewoods by the look of it.  Hannah, if you are taking on Tina Turner, you need to knock the flipping thing on its arse, and sadly you didn't, really.

Nicholas McDonald.  Another big crier.  Doesn't know who Spandau Ballet are.  This bodes well.  OK, not too bad.  Clothes by Mr Byrite, inkeeping with the 80s theme.  Well I'm sure there are some twelve year olds having funny feelings about him, but he's leaving me wondering if it's too soon to put the kettle on.  Mrs O is being lewd, making him say he's "sexteen", several times.

Miss Dynamix.  This bunch were put together by Gary Barlow in Frankenstein style.  Ah, a bit of Pointer Sisters.  Should they be up on a scaffold thing, with one of them being pregnant?  Should she be jumping?  It seems to me that having a jump is what got her in trouble in the first place.  Fuck me, but they are bad.  They are attempting harmony but it really isn't.   I think there's some wine in the fridge.  I'm not entirely sure Nicole Scherzinger is speaking English.  Oh I feel old.  Mrs O must have upped her HRT, she's perving on the Dermot now.

Sam Bailey.  Prison officer.  I have seen her nicknamed Screw-bo in one publication.  Go on girl.  Oooh she looks nice.  Debenhams.  She does have a really nice voice.   GO ON GIRL.  Mind you, I hate this song.  It's the Jennifer Rush one.  All of the eighties to choose from and they go for this shite.  Why not a bit of Talking Heads?  Dollar?  Oh Louis, saying "You hit every single note" is not exactly a compliment.  Damn it, she's made me cry again.

Sam Callahan.  Another foetus.  He makes Justin Bieber look raddled.  Actually he's the spit of the Beckhams' eldest.  Something to tell us, David?  Oh for fucking fucksake.   Summer of '69.  This wasn't any good even in the eighties.  Who chooses these songs?  Have they got ears?  I think I'll just wait to see how lewd Mrs O can be on live television.  My bet is on "show us your winky, go on, show us your winky!".

Kingsland Road.  I'm pretty sure they were just called Kingsland to begin with.  Perhaps it sounded too grand.  Kingsland isn't grand, trust me.  They all live in a house together, like the Beatles in Hard Day's Night.  I think.   Ah, WHAM!  WHAM! were a duo.  Or strictly speaking a one-o.  Andrew Ridgeley was just there for...erm...something.  Kingsland Rd are a five-o.  And vocally George Michael was stronger, on his own.  Why is everyone so easily impressed?  I feel like the evil fairy.

Shelley Smith.  White van lady.  They appear to have cannibalised one of Rylan's costumes from last year for her.  She's competent.  Bah.  Just nothing much to say about her really.  Have I got the strength to last till December?

Abi Alton.  Works in a supermarket.  She reminds me of this young lady (on the left).  She's lovely but I'm not sure X factor is right for her.  I wish someone would do a Kate Bush with her.  Kate was signed to EMI at the age of sixteen, and then basically given free reign to develop her music for two years.  Abi did Livin' On A Prayer just with a piano.  She seems much too unworldly for all this.

Lorna Simpson.   Doing a Whitney.  No, not having a big sleep in a hot bath.  Actually I don't know this track at all.  Again, if you are taking on a Whitney track, you need to knock it on its arse.  She managed to elbow it in the ribs, but not much more.  Lorna is wearing Ebay tonight.   And she hit every single note, according to Louis.

Tamera Foster.  The one we have been subliminally programmed to make the winner.  She's very pretty and has a nice voice.  But you know, if you're taking on a Chaka Khan song...I do get tired of saying the same thing.  Tamera was the one who "forgot her words" at bootcamp and was nudged through the rest of the song by the panel mouthing along.  She looks like the kind of girl who would have bitchslapped me at school.

Luke Friend.  The most interesting thing about Luke is that he doesn't wash his hair.  He resembles a good-natured guinea pig.  Another one getting the twelve year olds in a flutter, no doubt.  The good thing is they won't have to buy a separate Girl's World head to practise hairdressing on - Luke's hair will keep them busy for weeks.

Haha.  It's rather embarrassing when the adverts offer up a better interpretation of an eighties hit than the actual programme.

Rough Copy.  Oh this was the band that was torn asunder by visa issues, not once, but two years running.  I don't know what Gary did but he has brought the Border Agency to heel (something I never managed in all my years dealing with them) and the band is back as a three-o.  Tonight, Rough Copy took the brooding, sulky, explosive In the Air Tonight and turned it into a pile of rancid wank.  That is quite some trick.  Apparently the judges have never seen a group this good ever, ever in the entire universe.  I can only assume they are seeing and hearing something that I am not.

And now there's the flash vote thing.  In not at all another revenue-increasing exercise, ITV are inviting people to vote now and the act with the fewest votes will be singing for their life tomorrow night.  Literally, I think.  Dermot will have a scythe to hand.

I'm done.  The evil fairy needs a cup of tea.


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