Well, dump my band mates and call me Hannah. X Factor.
Having spent the weekend in rehab at the Herefordshire Residential Home for Bewildered Bloggers, I had a feeling all the therapy would unravel after watching two hours of X Factor.
Ryan Mathie – The bin lorry man. Prince Harry on steroids. If Nile Rogers had been born in Hull, this would be what Get Lucky would have sounded like. Binjuicetastic. Nicole squeezed his cheeks. Enough said.
Tenors of Rock – Geriatric boy band. Except one is a really ugly girl. Or a bloke in a dress. Go figure. “Living on a Prayer” saw them rock out. I panicked. Please don’t let the hairy fat bloke in the dress gyrate too much. A mess. A classic example of dire musical ability being overlooked in favour of ‘entertainment’. X Factor gold.
Hannah Sheares – former Daisy Chain, latterly fame grabbing, Judas solo singer. Shouting got better the longer she went on. She went through. Former friends on the phone to The Sun to spill the dirt.
Code 4 – amazing collection of hats
Xyra – Like Code 4, as exciting as magnolia paint.
Brick City – Same stuff.
Dynamix – how did I know it would be spelled like that? Another child hostage to win favour. No harmonix. Voted through. Utter bollix. More Daisy Chain torture. Nicole says no. Girl will be back next year when she’s dumped the tone deafs.
Chad Nelson – How did one of the mentally ill people get through? Poor man.
Sam Callahan – Got the hair to get through. So, so dull.
Zoe Devlin – I’ve sussed it. Just look like you’re a good singer. The judges fall for it every time.
Joseph Whelan – see above. He didn’t even have to use the small child card. I’m getting fed up now.
Crissie Rhodes – Can’t spell her first name correctly but can sing in a country style effectively. Expect a whole album of Cowell controlled cowboy tunes. Can actually sing.
(At this point I’m watching live and cannot fast forward. The acts are so tedious I’m about to have an out of body experience in order to escape the sheer standardisation of aspiring ‘pop stars’).
Giles Potter – 16 years old, younger brother of Harry but without the magic. So don’t worry if you sing the wrong verse, wrong chorus, wrong notes in the wrong order. If you’re cute, you can go through.
Jack Jacob – Not too good to be true. Not cute enough.
Sacha Neersoo – What if I stood there stroking my top? asked Gary. Not much. But boys would pay to see Nicole do it.
Paul Akister – Or See-Thee Green, the Lancaster lounge lizard. Finalist? Oh aye. If Greggs made soul singers…
Next week, who will go to boot camp?
“This is so hard,” says Gary.
Tell me about it.