The X Factor 2010: Episode 7 by shoutingatco.ws

I've got the ex factor

It’s The Beatles night tonight, which gives everyone a chance to bust out their best Mark Chapman jokes. There’s eight left, after the surprise dismissal of Aiden last week. The “Fix Factor” headlines continue, but we don’t care: the longer Katie remains in, the more she irritates those who still see the show as a serious singing competition. We’re hoping for her and Wagner in the final.

IT’S TIME TO FACE THE MOO-SICK!

We’re praying that Dermot doesn’t introduce the judges as the “Fab Four”. Thankfully, he makes a semi-decent Twist and Shout gag, and lives on in our hearts for another day. Paul McCartney makes a video-screen appearance, presumably to raise the funds to pay off Mills.

Bookies’ favourite Matt Cardle opens the night. The News of the World, the other day, said that he cheated on his girlfriend after having sex with her seven times a day. Seven times a day? Who could be bothered? Seriously, imagine the chafing. Anyway.

Oh, he’s wearing a vest. Repeat: A vest. He growls through Come Together. He’s no Kid Rock. He’s stolen Wagner’s dancers, who rub themselves and march around shaking their bums. He wants to sleep with all those dancers, and it seems that he’d be able to, all in one day.

It was this or Bruce Willis

Louis offers his feedback, but we don’t hear a word of it, as the crowd cheer over him. They love it, which is fair enough, as it was a very good performance. Simon disses the vest. Don’t diss the vest, Simon.

Following Matt, it’s the gawjus Cher Lloyd. She imagines there’s no Heaven. Believe me, in a world where Imagine is regarded as one of the best songs ever, there’s no God, either. Where’s Mark Chapman when you need him? She sings it as well as you can sing this song, and Cheryl looks on adoringly. That’s right: she sings. No rapping, no gangstaism, it was simple, and very good.

Up third, One Direction. They got to meet the England players during the week – Rio Ferdinand, Peter Crouch and Steven Gerrrrrraaaaaaaaarrrrrrrd. Lucky them, especially the Irish one. They sing All You Need is Love, with all the enthusiasm of a modern-day Busted. Louis calls them the “Fab Five”, and so will be condemned to death when we take over the world. They’re not as good as Five, let alone the Fab Four.

Fourth, the gawjus Rebecca Ferguson. As a Scouser, Rebecca is well aware of The Beatles. And how to pick a lock. She sings Yesterday. It’s like Paul McCartney: The Trannie Years. It was Rebecca being Rebecca, and while it was technically very good, it droned on a little bit, as her nerves shone through. The judges can’t help but mention Liverpool, as though it were the Independent Republic of Bongo Bongo Land, and not just a city with a couple of mediocre football teams. “You can come to my dressing room as often as you like…” offers Cheryl. Take that one to bed with you tonight.

That’s halfway through the show, and not a single medley. Our money is on Wagner to break the streak. But first, Mary Byrne. It’s like Paul McCartney: The “Linda’s Dead, So Let’s Have MORE STEAK” Years. It’s strong and confident, and doesn’t rely on dancers or gimmicks to distract from her mouth. She makes it seem effortless. Universal praise from the judges, which is unusual, even to the point that Simon praises her mentor, Louis. Crazy.

Paije! Yay! Thank Allah it’s Paije! We’ve been looking forward to Paije all week! Paije! C’mon Paije! Oh, er, never mind. He’s like a young Rusty Lee. There you go, Louis, there’s your pseudo-racism for the week done for you. How has he turned “all black people look the same” into a lovable gimmick? It was less Sgt Pepper and more John Sergeant. We really struggle over spelling the word “Sergeant”. This is just filler. This paragraph, and his performance.

Wagner: The Hollywood Years

Wagner Time! He opens with Get Back, before a terrible transition into Hippy Hippy Shake (that well-known Beatles hit). He didn’t learn the words to that bit. He mixes up his left and right when shaking it to the left, shaking it to the right. Oh, DOUBLE MEDLEY! THIS IS UNPRECEDENTED! Hey Jude. Balls to Beatlemania, screw Hulkamania, this is WAGNERMANIA. How is this happening? What did Paul McCartney do to deserve this? Really, can they be that desperate to flog their iTunes catalogue?

Cheryl makes a weird comment about Wagner allegedly telling the press that she’s a very lucky girl from a council estate. Very awkward. There’s plenty of chances through the week, not on live telly, to talk to him. He tells her not to believe what she reads in the press, which she obviously knows already. What was that all about?

Rounding off the show, your favourite and mine, Katie. She’s been allowed to choose her own song. And, shockingly: A DRASTIC image change. Just like the others, yeah? She’s scoring almost full marks on the Lyndhurst-o-meter. She doesn’t deserve the “schtick” that other people give her. It was more like a Sunday Night song than a Saturday Night song. She really resembles a pointy Frodo Baggins. And she’s still bloody irritating.

Back tomorrow, for a fourteen hour elimination special, with Olly Murs and a special Help For Heroes ensemble, featuring all 16 acts. THE RETURN! OF! JOHN! ADELEYE!

Top three: Matt Cardle, One Direction and Mary Byrne
Bottom three: Katie, Wagner and Paije

Comments

Leave a Reply