I feel as if I have been watching X-Factor for ever; my own personal purgatory – even the Talk Talk billboards seem to be the same. If I hear that Talk Talk tune one more time, or see people arsing around with glowsticks, I swear I will descend into madness – whatever song it is it has been ruined forever. I had the same with Replublica’s Ready to Go when I worked on an promo with this track as backing and I cannot listen to the tune ever again without facial twitches and uttering slight yelps.
Michael Jackson week this week. I have mixed feelings, as I am sure everybody does, about Michael Jackson. On the one hand I think he was one of the greatest pop icons – a genius even – and Thriller still remains an amazing piece of work, a classic. On the other hand he was as mad as an arsonist in a fireworks factory living a life so completely barmy that only his celebrity status and big, fat chequebook protected him from being sectioned. Oh, and anyone stupid enough to send their kids round his ‘house’ needs a social services S.W.A.T team rappelling in through their front window tout sweet. Enough said.
So our four remaining Neverland-owning wannabees duked it out singing Jackson songs and then a choice of their own:
Olly went totally large this week, necked 12 j2os and picked the tightest, whitest pair of pants and he could squeeze his gorilla-like frame into – you could practically tell what religion he follows. I thought he was just okay. I still think he has more to give than he has already – he has got a great voice and he has got great moves but he just comes across as a bit retro. I think his natural format is soul and R&B and he obviously has an affinity with Stevie Wonder (which is a good thing) but in the final he is going to have to sing some crappy MOR dirge from Simon’s hit factory and he is going to crash…and…burn.
Joe Mc…what’s his name.
Joe stuck to his strengths and sang his way to the final.
I hate the Michael Jackson song he picked, but I can tell it’s a hard song to sing and he totally nailed it. The thing is – and this is just a theory – I think that Joe’s arrival at the final has been engineered completely by Simon Cowell. None of the other acts can carry the kind of insipid, mindless pop that makes his production company – and thus Simon – oodles of dosh. So Simon and the other judges have, I think, made it their mission to get Joe to the final. Job done.
Bless her, she went all raunchy for her King of Pop turn and she just about pulled it off (in a manner of speaking).
She sang alright, but she compensated for that by having legs up to her eyeballs and walking about on chairs from a Café Rouge. My first thought, unfortunately, was Allo Allo; the utterly dreadful ‘comedy’ from the eighties about French Resistance fighters, rather than Madame Jo Jos. The illusion was doubly broken when she opened her mouth and sounded like a checkout girl from Leighton.
I think that the biggest problem that Danyl had was that he just couldn’t not muck about with a song. No matter how good the song, or how well known, Danyl would feel the urge to get all Ne-Yo on it and start doing the R&B version of yodelling. He did it with Elton John and he did it with Michael Jackson. The problem is that the audience want to judge him on how well he sings a song, but if he just goes off on one and ‘interprets’ it then I think that they think: well I could interpret a song, any mug could… The only plane of reference they have is the bloody song and he goes off piste…and that comes across as slightly arrogant. The maths is thus: messes with song I know + arrogant + no votey = back home in an Addison Lee cab, thanks for playing.