Tuesday, April 1, 2008

A light-hearted critque on the arsehole that is simon cowell

Simon Cowell, a man who has single handedly destroyed out television and music industry more than peer too peer file sharing networks, albeit in a different way. This bastard has done it primarily by monopolising prime time TV and creating numerous ‘talent shows’. Yes, the terrible little shows that used to appear in a large town or a school fund raising event. The sort of thing you’d sit and watch with trepidation, grimacing at the parents of the talentless sods on stage as they glance around the audience to see the reception their child’s rendition of the minipops is getting. This, THIS is now prime-time family enjoyment, only the ‘entertainers’ are older and the money won’t go to charity or a kids skate park, but Simon fucking Cowell.

First off was pop idol, thousands of simpering sods who’d perform like chained bears for the perverse schadenfraude attitude of the general public. Grumpy Simon and the other judges, with no real explanation as to why they have the right to expel or recruit said members of the public. But they do, successfully culling anyone not above an 8 on the attractiveness scale, and anybody with an original vocal style (i.e. anybody who doesn’t sing in trans-Atlantic Aguilera warble style). After Pop Idol came the infinitely more popular X Factor. A damn near identical program that showed Cowell, the show’s producers and the viewing public are happy to make/watch template TV time and time again.

Last year I entered the X Factor for a laugh with some friends of mine, partially to get out mugs on TV (obviously in the really bad auditionies section) and also I wanted to see how the show and screening process was conducted. As unsurprising as it sounds it’s nothing like it looks on the small screen. The way it’s brought across on screen is that Simon cunt et. al. sit through and rigorously snigger, berate, ridicule and smash the dreams of contestant after contestant in a nice studio-esque surrounding.

Is it fuck! The first initial day of ‘casting’ consists of about 200-300 group singers (which, if you are stupid enough to apply to the X seriously I’d advise this route, it’s much cushier than being a solo singer) and 17,000 solo ‘artists’. All initial casting is done on the first day and first day alone where massive swaths of hopefuls are kicked out of the competition. As such it’s physically impossible for the 4 judges to see the entire population of a small town in one day, not to mention a logistical nightmare for a camera crew to record every single person and then scan through for the best applicants to go on the show. The judges do appear, indeed they do. For five minutes. For the camera. The real judging on the first day is delegated to less famous people who have the difficult challenge of getting a balance of actual quality singers and humdingers we can laugh at from the comfort of our heavily arse-indented sofas.

On the second day of auditioning even more people are swept away since the ‘off-air’ judges have more time to size them up. It’s not until the following weekend that our shiny faced, TV arsehole judges get a go at ripping those selected to shreds, in a modern day version of verbal scourging.

Admittedly the very ‘structure’ of the show itself has been well thought out. The show starts out with the auditions. We see the hopefuls have a go, with an occasional sob story chucked in if the film crew have been tipped off about a ‘contender’ by the off-air judges. In this technique the X Factor works like any famous British comedy since television started. The tale of the underdog attempting to leave their pitiful prole life, in dispersed with heart wrenching emotional scenes and outright comedy, maybe even a catchphrase or two (i.e. steptoe and son). We gleefully laugh at the tone-deaf, hyper-active, ugly or simply crap caricatures of humanity, before sitting back dewy-eyed at their wish to impress their dead relative/lover/friend (delete where appropriate) who recently died and who quite liked the song they decide to enter the audition with.

As time itself has shown, the mixture of heart-wrenching sadness and laugh-out-loud humour is one very successful technique to pull in the audience, and keep the buggers there. Yet there is another technique the X uses, or to be more precise, cranks up to 11. In fact it’s the very core of the show itself. Like the office, the mockumentary with Ricky ‘sphincter necklace’ Gervais, it’s the use of cringe. Although the difference is that the X is real, unlike the office. Shudder, at the women with the lopsided face, screeching out Robbie Williams ‘angels’, sounding like a hawk that’s found its prey. Gasp, at Cunty Cowell's derogatory comments to the woman whose husband died shortly after writing her song. Grimace, as the young lad tries to jig along with a track by N-sync, forgetting the lyrics as he twirls.

Yes the audition section of the show is by far and large one of the most face-scrunching events to shit all over our screens in many a year, even more so than that pussy sequence with Calloway. But we love it, it appeals to our schadenfraude aspect, in much the same way Cowell does. He’s a tosser, but because he’s so candid we can’t help but slow down as we walk past the telly, rubber necking it, wondering what’s he’s going to say next.

And through the car crash of humanity and its many delusions come striding our victors, the few of the many applicants that can sing and look ‘proper buff’ (to use a phrase I hear continually from people when commenting on these hopefuls). It does seem strange that beauty seems to bless those that can also sing like angels, odd that. Although saying this there have been a few 7 or lower on the lookers scale (some of them have been fat!) These oddities are there for two reasons 1) they are actually that good the rules are broken for them. And 2) because the judges didn’t fill up their quota of black or disabled people.

Due to the popularity of the introductory ‘car crash’ episodes people instinctively choose their favourite singer to win. Be it for aesthetics, vocal style, or because they seem more ‘real’ then the others, it’s something we can’t help. You watch something like the X and you instinctively ‘pick a side’, I’ve even caught myself doing it, and I fucking hate the X. As suck you start watching the competition section of the X factor, rooting for your singer (some people are even stupid enough to actually ring up). And if they get kicked out the contest? Doesn’t matter, no doubt you’ve already chosen a substitute, plus one of the singers you will no doubt of grown to dislike and as such will continue to watch to see if they get the boot too by the bastard firing line (judges).

Thanks to shows like pop idol and X fucker the other channels have now started rolling out their own variations on the theme, you can’t get away from them anymore. Fading now are the old gaudy quiz shows with the jolly old presenters who you’re sure must be popping off to the toilets as often as possible, the sort of quizzes that strode across Saturday night family enjoyment. Instead we’re handed pants like ‘strictly come wanking’, ‘Britain’s got twats’, goit is the word, ‘tosser with the camply bright coat’ and whatever other dregs are being scraped out of the barrel as of late.

In reality these talents shows are another extension and evolutionary branch of the Big Brother, I’m a Celeb etc. reality TV family. Which is a bit like having a flightless bird, but now we’ve got ones with 4 wings. Interesting, but pointless. And there’s definitely been some inbreeding along the way.

Another thing to take note is the effect these shows (and I’m mainly looking at you X Factor) have on the music industry. Back in ye olden days we would gripe, bitch and whine about manufactured bands. They didn’t have the real soul of music, they were made for monetary reasons, they’re just chosen for looks etc. etc. etc. but now. But FUCKING NOW we celebrate them, revere them, get them to the number one slot and keep the fuckers there, even if we’ve got to hold them against the wall by the throat. Betting company aren’t taking bets on the Christmas number one until 2010, when the X Factors current contract runs out. It’s hyperbole, what exactly have these people done to deserve our collective praise?

Sure, they’ve been on the telly, beaten other contestants to reach the final, but I bet you any rock group or non-royalty singer/band have struggled for years and years. Living on the bread line, facing refusal after refusal, and still able to collect enough energy to struggle upright and continue onwards. They deserve a lot more praise then any X factor winner. They’ve battled for 12 weeks? Fuck ‘em. Most bands have been going for years before they hit it big. Nickleback got it’s name from the lead singers job in Starbucks (here’s your nickel back). And how exactly do these winners contribute to the music industry? Their songs aren’t even theirs, either it’s royalty written, or covers of tracks from the year dot, that most people have forgotten of or never even heard of before. I give her dues Leona Lewis has song her own material, but I doubt she wrote most of it.

This annual celebration of mass-produced, user-friendly, accessible-branding, wholly mainstream sludge is trashing our music industry, a field widely regarded as unmatched for raw talent worldwide, which I’m sure is to change if this continues.

So as a plea from someone who loves what our TV and Music was. Fuck off Cowell and give us back our individuality, your greed is destroying what most hold dear.


You cunt.

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