X Gaktor

Thoughts on Robbie's comeback appearance.

1. That song is truly terrible.
2. I'd still shag Robbie Williams, but I'd be concerned that he'd keep breaking off to introduce himself to my bedroom furniture, and
3. Somebody needs to stop taking drugs, pronto.

Sexist Come Dancing

It's a bit early in the year to be discussing Strictly Come Dancing, a show that's essentially one long sequined advent calender for Christmas, but I could not resist discussing news that Alesha Dixon is to take over from Arlene Phillips on the judging panel.

You can read an entire article about it here.

The essence of the story is that Arlene Phillips (66, professional choreographer, wrinkly, much given to making comments about male dancers' hip movements) has been sacked from Strictly and replaced by Alesha Dixon (30, singer, the winner from a couple of years ago, flawlessly beautiful, no real knowledge of dancing at all) in order to "refresh the brand". The "brand" took a nasty knock last season when John Sergeant walked out mid-series, a decision which may or may not have been related to the judging panel's bullying comments, many but by no means all of which were ascribed to Arlene. Alesha is likely to be a nicer presence than Arlene. But lots of people could be a nicer presence than Arlene, and there are things Arlene brought to the table that Alesha can't provide, the most obvious one of which is having any proper understanding of ballroom dance technique.

It doesn't take the most paranoid of feminists to ask questions about an older, opinionated woman being knocked out of the panel in favour of a younger, more agreeable one, particularly when that panel is already weighted 3 to 1 male to female. Last season, Strictly fell behind in the ratings against X Factor, who had "refreshed" their brand by replacing older, opinionated Sharon Osborne with younger, more agreeable Cheryl Cole. The obvious difference is that Cheryl Cole, no matter what you might think of her, is a working professional singer, whereas Alesha Dixon, charming as she is, is just someone who once won a reality dance show, with a lot of help from her professional dance partner.

Ah yes, the professional dance partner. If they really did want to appeal to the Cheryl Cole demographic, why not move one of the professional dancers across, who is young and sympathetic but who can also provide informed commentary to the audience and advice for the contestants?

But Jay Hunt, the controller of BBC1, batted away accusations of ageism by saying "the average age of the BBC1 viewer is 52, so why would I take older women off the channel?" (although what exactly is the average age of the Strictly viewer - and what age would they like it to be?) - so it must just be coincidence that the new judge is so young and gorgeous. If Alesha Dixon has not been chosen because she's young and beautiful, what has she been chosen for? Hunt says: "Alesha has lived through it, we've still got all the experts who understand the technicalities of the Argentinian tango."

In other words, she's been on the show herself, so she understands what it's like, and she hasn't been chosen for her expertise but for her empathy. Which means she's there to be the most sympathetic, likeable and uncritical of judges.

But having the only woman on the panel be the one who is there to be sympathetic, likeable and uncritical is just as bad as having one there for eye candy. It's 2009. Are we still so frightened of a woman with an opinion?

X Factor Final

I recorded the X Factor final and the results show which means that with judicious use of the fast forward button I managed to get through about 2 hrs 40 mins of television in approximately half an hour, and I probably enjoyed it a hell of a lot more than anybody who actually had to sit through Kym Marsh in North London, surrounded by Alexandra Burke fans, asking them if they thought she was any good, which, I am guessing, they did.

As did I. Thank god she won. There was no way that I could countenance a JLS victory after the one on the end with the funny shaved head pulled a cheesy R'n'B come-on grin during Hallelujah - which, Simon Cowell, is not a Christmas song, even if it has a religious word in it. Eoghan, the High School Musical leprechaun, went out in the first half of the finals so we were denied his version, about which I am utterly dejected, because I was hoping they they would have the same dancing teenagers they wheel out for everything else he sings. Alexandra turned it into a massive power ballad which was only to be expected but at least she does massive power ballad well.

I actually love Alexandra, and I feel quite guilty about having thought she was a cheap Leona Lewis knock-off, and I am totally delighted that she has won, and can actually put up with the thought of her releasing singles and stuff, which is not quite the case for all reality show winners. (I do wonder what it is like for the likes of Dannii Minogue and Cheryl Cole "mentoring" people who are such better singers than they are.) Anyway, I particularly enjoyed Alex singing with Beyonce, who tried to look happy about it but gave off the unmistakeable aura of a member of royalty not used to having to touch other human beings and really hoping that Alex didn't get snot on her dress when she sobbed into her shoulder. I was, however, disappointed that they didn't give her an upbeat song to sing but just a series of soupy ballads. Thus, in tribute to her win, I post her rendition of Candyman from Big Band week, in which she looks absolutely stunning and has FUN and is surrounded by sexy sailors in stripy tops. I am all about fun at the moment. Probably because I have spent the entire festive season at home ill and haven't had any. Anyway, enjoy:

X Factor: Hallelujah!

Word reaches me that the X Factor winner will be recording a cover of Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah' for their debut single. Putting aside that being a bit like the Strictly winner doing a showdance to Wagner, it does help one massively in the dilemma of who to vote for. The choice of 'Hallelujah' does point heavily towards an anticipated Diana win. Here she is mutilating 'Yellow'. She could do that to 'Hallelujah' too - "Remember h'when I moved in yeeew..."



But wouldn't it be much more fun to hand 'Hallelujah' over to softcore R'n'B (rhythm n boredom) quartet JLS (or as I always think of them, John Lewis Partnership)? Here they are paying homage to the Fab 4:



Or, my own particular favourite choice in this context, Eoghan Quigg. According to the X Factor website, Eoghan "grew up in Derry, Northern Ireland and is currently studying for his GCSEs... Singing since the age of two along to Disney cartoons, Eoghan would love to be the male equivalent of an Irish Leona Lewis. He found his voice whilst singing with the school choir and from then on, sang all the lead roles in the school musicals. Justin Timberlake is Eoghan’s idol and he got to the finals of Irish School Stars in their Eyes two years ago."

Ignoring the startling news that Justin Timberlake got to the finals of Irish Schools Stars In Their Eyes two years ago, Eoghan would seem to be the perfect choice to carry off the depth of Leonard Cohen's lyrics. Here he is with the equally profound Never Forget by Take That:



GCSEs? 11 plus, surely. Anyway, game over, he has my vote. I cannot wait to see him sing 'Hallelujah'.

And finally, a reminder of how it should be done:

Never Mind The Strictly Come X Factor!

So I couldn't be bothered to write separate posts about all of last night's TV. So sue me.

Strictly up first, chronologically speaking. Of course, I mooted a boycott due to Sergeantgate, but it's hard to maintain a boycott when you're alone at home of a cold Saturday evening and it's just there. Strictly this week seemed to have been designed with the intent of distracting truculent bloggers from writing about John Sergeant. By which I mean that you might switch on with the full intent of writing about John Sergeant, but it's bloody hard to stay focused when Tess Daly is wearing a black bondage boob tube with a tablecloth tucked in the front. (Later in the evening, Simon Amstell on Never Mind the Buzzcocks quizzed guest Alesha Dixon (still Britain's most perfect female) on her views about Tess being "dead behind the eyes", to which I would reply: so would you be if forced to dress as Undertaker Barbie.) Within two dances, the judges had nearly drawn blood in an argument over Christine and Matthew's unremarkable [insert whatever dance they were doing here; cannot be bothered to look it up.] Overmarking Rachel Steven's Foxtrot with four perfect tens was a late salvo to encourage viewer outrage away from the JS target, but none of this was ever going to work against Kristina Rihanoff's tears of farewell. "I admire you, I respect you, I adore you," she told John. Angry viewer from London allowed herself a little snivel.

But no time for mawkishness, because it was straight over to ITV for X Factor: the Take That special.

First question: am I the only person to have noticed that Take That's new single sounds exactly like Coldplay? Consider the evidence:



Also, that Mark can't stop wearing hats: which is celebrity shorthand for being bald.

Unexpectedly I totally loved the X Factor Take That special, mainly because it turns out that Take That songs are versatile / bland enough (delete according to inclination) to be adapted to any number of different styles, so everyone put in good performances, rather than the uncomfortable constipated karaoke that so often results. The other reasons were that they just seem so damn happy to be there, that I unexpectedly have a crush on Howard (I think: possibly Jason, one of ones who doesn't sing, anyway, and didn't take part in the rehearsal process because they have nothing to contribute), and also, after all the John Sergeant bitching, that it is quite refreshing to have a programme where all the contestants are fresh-faced ingenues that it is impossible to be horrible about, and the nastiness is mostly contained in the endless Simon-Louis war (Team Simon!). Oh, and in the results show, they had both Same Difference, recast as Sandy and Danny do High School Musical with BIG EXPRESSIVE FACES, *and* the singing albino robot butler Rhydian, performing their new singles.

Finally I watched Never Mind the Buzzcocks, in the course of which I discovered that Kelly Jones from the Stereophonics is a tosser (which I already knew) but knows it and doesn't care (which I didn't know, and makes me like him a whole lot better.)

X Factor Final

Meanwhile, in the night of all idiotic decisions: Leon? REALLY? I suppose the thinking went: can't sing, can't dance, but is marginally less annoying than the alternatives.

I'm going to bed. When I wake up tomorrow, I want the world to be the sensible place that it was this morning.

X Factor Semi Final

Just watched the lunchtime repeat. To my eternal shame, when Sarah from Same Difference started crying at the end of singing 'Never Had A Dream Come True', I burst into tears. I dread to think what the New York Times would have to say about that. Same Difference to win, please. They make incest look like such a wholesome option.

X Factor Revisited

As a Strictly fan (which I am, in case you were unsure) I haven't been following X Factor, but this week I noticed that it had been moved up the schedules so the programmes no longer clash, so I thought I'd check in.

Oh. My. God. What on earth is going on?

EVERYBODY on X Factor this year is terrible. Hope, the girl band who make Pussycat Dolls look like differentiated individuals. Rhydian, the opera alien. Leon, the Rat Pack's tea boy. Niki the charisma black hole. And dear god in heaven, Same Difference, which is the singing equivalent of being tied up in a Barbie factory and force-fed glitter.

How anyone will be able to choose a favourite and vote in that contest is beyond me. I have to say my general inclination is that the utterly horrifying Same Difference should probably get it, as they clearly have a long and successful career ahead of them presenting nauseating CeeBeeBies shows and making parents suicidal when their four-year-old children insist on being taken to a Same Difference concert. Also, then there could be Same Difference dolls which I could mutilate.

In any case, I heard that voting is massively down on previous years, which commentators put down to viewer lack of trust in ITV phone-ins. Rather than total apathy / hating all the contestants, for example.

Last but not least, Louis Walsh remains the most insufferable man on the planet. I am sure he is only there so that you don't notice how vile the rest of the judging panel are.

Enough. I'm back to Strictly.

Strictly Come Dancing / X Factor: Results Show 7.10.07

As previously mentioned, I hate results shows: they go on for far too long and are basically the televisual equivalent of a long drawn-out session of prick-teasing followed by premature ejaculation. Nothing I saw tonight remotely changed that opinion.

The Strictly / X Factor results shows were, like the programmes themselves, screened simultaneously, in the standard big knob contest between the two broadcasters, designed to maximise their own egos whilst minimising audience satisfaction. If the BBC really was a public service broadcaster, they would put Strictly out at a time when there core audience wasn't really wanting to watch something on the other side. Anyway, it did mean I could flick between the two whenever one got boring - i.e. constantly.

Strictly was an excercise in recycling: here's the performances from yesterday, here's what the judges said yesterday, here's Mark Ramprakash doing a dance fom last year, here's Michael Buble singing a song that was a hit several decades ago, here's a dance off featuring the two dances you liked least yesterday - the two dances you don't want to see a second time, in other words, but here they are, and here's the judges deciding who goes home, choosing the same dance they liked least yesterday.

X Factor on the other hand had plenty of new footage, all of which was of people crying. I'm crying because I'm nervous. I'm crying because I want it so badly. I'm crying because I'm thinking of my poor dead father. I'm crying because I'm thinking about my kids. I'm crying because Sharon Osborne has made me think I'm going home. I'm crying because I am going home. I'm crying because I'm not going home. I'm crying because I have temporarily gone home before not going home to tell my kids / my poor dead father that I'm not going home, and now my kids / my poor dead father is crying too. Watching the X Factor results show makes me think of when Joanne Lees did that press conference after Peter Falconio was killed, and everyone assumed she did it because she didn't cry. To be blunt, unless you cry a whole lot on X Factor, the public will hate you and you may as well be a murderer for all the chance you have of winning. If you ever go on X Factor, carry an onion in your pocket just in case.

Sharon Osborne, who is the best at deliberately winding the contestants up and making them cry before telling them that in fact they are through to the next round, is also the best at comforting them by clutching them to her maternal, subtly surgically enhanced, bosom (although in one case asking a sobbing girl to please keep her dripping black make-up away from Sharon's designer togs.)

Which did make me think, which celebrity would be the person you'd most like to comfort you when you're sobbing your poor little heart out (and I don't mean "comforting" in the tabloid sense)? And which the least? My opening bids: Brenda Blethyn and Chris Moyles (I'm guessing you can figure out which most and which least without me telling you.)

X Factor 6.10.07

While we're on the subject of appalling clothing decisions that distract from an entire show's output, it does seem only fair to mention Sinitta's fans on X factor last night. Did anything else happen at all?