Wednesday, 9 November 2011
Why the X Factor sucks balls this year.
New judges, mediocre contestants, Louis Walsh being ever-more-of-a-nuisance. This year's X Factor has been lacking a certain something from the start. There is every chance this certain something is Simon Cowell's chest hair, but I believe it to be a something a little more profound; appeal, perhaps. I've come to this conclusion from a place of genuine affection towards the Saturday night television programme, rather than the - ever more popular - place of distaste.
I was there (on my sofa) when Steve Brookstein became victorious, when Sharon Osborne threw water in Louis' face and gave Shayne Ward one of her dogs. I voted for Leon Jackson (don't stone me) and thought Leona Lewis was a bit boring. I obsessed over Diana Vickers and cried right alongside Eoghan when she was booted out (again on my sofa). In my most passionate series to date, I screamed (quite literally) at anyone who said a bad word against Danyl Johnson, the man I thought was perfection personified, whilst simultaneously stalking Jedward online. I couldn't stand McElderry. And finally, in 2010, I got turned on by Harry Styles. But then who didn't?
I love the X Factor, I just love it less this year, and I wonder why. We have new judges on the panel - a cause for concern in the more hardcore among us. Gary, Tulisa and Kelly have, so far, been satisfactory, I feel. Gary has well and truly taken Simon's place, with complimentary arm-across-female-judge's-chair and that well known phrase: 'you have three yeses *modestly arrogant grin*' aplenty. Kelly has been an utter dream. Tulisa - less so, but adequate enough. Louis is, of course, a mere irritant, but then he's always been an irritant and so makes no difference to the current season. I don't think the new judges can be entirely blamed for the downgrading of the show.
The 'talent', arguably named, haven't gripped me. Bar Frankie and possibly Misha and Kitty, every one of them is vanilla at best. Misha and Kitty are the 'creatives' of the competition, the ones we all 'look forward to watching'. That's what they're supposed to be but I can't help but question it anyhow. I don't know about you, but when I'm waiting for Kitty to walk out on stage I can be pretty damn sure I'm going to get some kind of nasal bellowing and sequinned swimsuit. Similarly with Misha: big hair, rapping and attitude. The rest I could take or leave without too much of a second thought. The only contestant that draws me in to any degree is Frankie Cocozza. The drinking, shagging, hairy (but only on his head - not that I know) 18 year old. If I haven't told you already - which is almost impossible - Gareth and I saw Frankie on a train to Brighton. He was in our carriage the entire way, was directly in front of me going through the ticket barrier at Brighton and brushed past me in his haste. We'd only seen his audition at that point so no one paid him any attention nor did I think it wholly necessary to embarrass myself fan-girling all over him. Boy do I regret that decision now.
Frankie got a lot of stick for being cocky, shagging girls, staying out late, drinking, and (more recently) drug abuse. He also had an average singing voice. He was a popstar/celebrity in the making though, that cannot be denied. He swamped all the tabloid headlines, girls wanted to sleep with him, paparazzi knew to stick close by, some people hated him and some people loved him. He had stage presence, whether his vocal pipes were outstanding or not. For each these reasons, I was devastated when I heard the news yesterday. Frankie was axed from the show for breaking the X Factor 'golden rule'.
It was his turn to buy milk and he forgot, ruining everyone's morning cheerios.
No, something about cocaine apparently. I don't condone drug use in the slightest. I was as disappointed in Frankie as the rest of them. But it's a big shame, the X Factor has gone from dull, to akin to sleeping tablets with a side of cringe. The series is so boring, in fact, that they've resorted to making Dermot do a funny little dance every week. I'm disappointed and bored and miss Cheryl Cole. I'll still watch to the end of the series, it is against my religion not to, I'll just drink a lot of mulled wine to dull the pain.
Having said ALL OF THAT, the one saving grace of this year's X Factor is Olly Murs' tight trousers. Try and tell me I'm wrong.