Well, put me in a snakeskin, stick my nan’s antimacassar on my head and call me Nicole. X-Factor.
The start of this week’s show was rather confusing, with Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ being played without the appearance of any mentally ill people. So, eleven became ten last week, which becomes nine with Spunky Spraggan pulling a sicky.
The theme for this week was Halloween, meaning that the contestants were encouraged to make some shocking and horrifying performances. Nothing new there, then. The judges made an effort, or at least the girls did, with Nicole being spray painted with snake skin and Tulisa in vampire teeth and daring cleavage.
Flat Stanley was the first turn, having successfully mutilated and buried a classic song last week. Major treat this week is the mentorship of former- former – Take That extra Robbie Williams. Robbie listened to Kye with a vacant look, which isn’t unusual.
“It isn’t about the notes, it’s about you popping onstage,” said the tattooed loony warbler. Kye nodded enthusiastically. When our kids were younger, popping was a euphemism for passing wind. You could see the poor lad working out how to sing and fart to order on stage.
Anyway, Kye dressed up like Eddie Izzard’s scary younger brother and sang well. Yes, he sounded good. Whether this was due to the double tracking, echo effects, harmonious backing singers or the distracting dancers and volume of the music. Nicole, like Queen Victoria on acid, loved his song. Busty, low cut, ruby red lipped, beautifully coiffered Tulisa said something, but I wasn’t concentrating. Let’s just say this was the general theme of things for most of the acts, to save time.
Other Direction were shown having their hair done for last week’s song, then cut to them having their hair done to see Skyfall. Cue lots of ‘I don’t believe it’ from young boys with various lego hair sets.
“It’s not about the notes, it’s about your hair,” the boss eyed Mad TakeThatter nearly said.
Then it was guess the song time again. A group of young girls had been rounded up with a cattle prod and made to stand next to the stage whilst Union J sang. Their screaming and their pleas to be dragged out with desperate offerings of their hands were ignored by the boys. During the judges’ critiques, smoke wafted across the stage and covered the scene. I think Jahmene had short circuited, overheated and had a small fire in his URL port, but nothing serious.
Rylan had his birthday in the week, so a suitably understated celebration had been arranged by his mentor, who pretended that she couldn’t attend. Not being one to want to be the centre of attention, the Hamilton squeeze did make an appearance in a very tight red latex basque, her long dark hair cascading over her fulsome breasts and she huskily crooned to Rylan, seductively backing into his lap and wriggling her buttocks. So I’ve been told. I hardly noticed.
Robbie Williams confirmed his support for Rylan, which had been doubted by the Boy Band Hobbit. “Rylan is excellent,” said the tattooed maniac, “I’m definitely in Team Rylan.”
Which goes to show you that years of drug abuse can only do you harm.
Rylan’s appearance started with him being lowered on a slab, looking like a gay Frankenstein’s monster, wearing Liam Gallagher’s eyebrow.
The dancers, the lights, the echo effect all helped to distract you from Rylan’s voice. An agreeable thing, as Gazza said.
“You remoind me of a young Jean-Paul Gaultier,” said Louis, probably remembering the awful dance single JPG made in the 80s.
Dead Grandad Girl is now so far ahead of the rest of them it’s difficult to see who can stop her. Oh yeah. Sharon from Basildon and Louis, to name two.
“When I was 16, I was a muppet,” said the Robster. Ellie just stared at him. She is 16. As far as she is concerned, Robbie Williams is a mad old man, so by definition is a muppet. Fortunately, he didn’t try his ‘it’s not about the notes’ advice, realising that this young girl is all about the notes. She backed out of the room, trying not to make any sudden moves. Robbie sat equally quietly, staring at the end of his nose.
On stage, Ella gave it her all. No double tracking. No over-production. No backing singers. No dancers. Just pure singing power. But it’s not about the notes. It’s about the hair. Strangely during her performance, I did have a craving for candy floss.
Nanny’s Fairy was grilled by Mr Borelow about his nerves. Christopher’s eyes flitted from side to side and his body convulsed as if he’d been electrocuted.
“I think I’ve got it under control now,” he fluttered. I always find I’m a little stressed myself when Mr Maloney is on screen.
“I just died in your arms tonight,” Shaky Scouser belted with his normal style, dressed in a coat borrowed from Captain Jack Harkness, the time traveller from Doctor Who. Capt Jack is played by John Barrowman, who is famously gay, like the character. That’s all I’m saying.
A big disagreement ensued between the diminutive mancunian and the boobilicious Essex girl. I think it may be a while before fag ash Lil and Gary Wino make up.
District 9 went for a rather interesting image for their contribution – A Clockwork Orange look. For those of you that don’t know, A Clockwork Orange is a book by Anthony Burgess turned into a film directed by Stanley Kubrick. It depicts a small gang of young men violently raping women and beating a vagrant to death. District 9’s mega produced violations of a variety of songs, mainly penned by the tantrically sexy ex-Police man Sting, so a sort of X-Factor version of A Clockwork Orange.
“Well, you should be O.K. but you weren’t as good as last week,” said Louis, which isn’t encouraging when they were second bottom last week.
So to close, the singing android, who got to meet Samuel L Jackson. The Pulp Fiction star wanted Jahmene to sing at his do. The giggling one obliged, with SLJ taking pictures. What you didn’t see was Samuel L trying to pry off the top of Jamene’s head, shouting, “These ****ing robots are a-mazing, I wanna see how the Mo****** works.”
Jahmene sang beautifully. The smoke returned. Nicole said he was Jahmazing. Which may be offensive to Rastafarians.
Tulisa made a visit to Jade Singlemum’s flat, where the Cowell X-Factor Orphan’s Home had released her daughter for the day. Tulisa remembered her roots, wearing high heels, beautifully manicured nails, scoring a quarter of skunk and mugging an old lady for her pension on the way in.
Wearing a couple of shiny inner tubes and a swiss roll on her head, Jade sang suitably well. Job done.
“It’s more style than substance,” claimed Louis. No shit Sherlock. It’s X-Factor.
Lidl Jarvis also had the call from a star. Labrinth wanted James to perform with him on stage. Cue 7000 screaming girls and James on stage to join Labrinth for the song made famous by, well surprise, surprise, X-Factor.
“It’s quite good that somebody like that wants to sing with him though,” said Lady Barton St Mary. A pause.
“Oh, hang on. He’s a Cowell slave, isn’t he?”
The ‘Sweet Dreams’ cover was clever. I thought for a moment that Sharon Osbourne was playing the keyboards in the background, but it was a young bloke in Halloween make-up.
So the clocks have gone back, you are reading this in the future. Results to follow.
Spunky Spraggan will be back next week, but in the meantime is tucked up in a warm bed with a night nurse.
How many X-Factors to Christmas?
By the way, back to the adverts. How long have Iceland supermarkets been selling frozen cockroaches?