Apparently "It's all about the voice". Well, that's what we are told, but there are two problems with this.
1) It's a fucking lie, because it isn't
2) Most of the voices in this competition are warbling, whining shit noises that can't hold a fucking note without weaving in and out of every octave, scale, key and dustbin.
All this rubbish is presided over by two presenters, who seem to have split the work up as unevenly as possible.
Hollery Willoughby is a 'national treasure' who doesn't need a microphone. I suspect that the BBC has told her she doesn't need to use her brain either, judging from the crappy questions and prompts she feeds to the judges. Meanwhile, over in the 'V Room' is Reggie, who didn't have to be told not to use his brain, as it's still 'missing presumed dead'. One or two pointless intermissions while Reggie asks questions like "What does this mean to you?" is just awful television, and mental cruelty. It goes one stage further than dire - diarrhoea!
Yesterday we suffered (oh yes, that's exactly the right term) some of the most excruciating TV so far this year. The Voice UK has made Big Brother seem highbrow. It is so full of itself, and cannot see how bad it all is. From the off, I was annoyed, because Hollery came out with:
"Let's meet our four A-listers." No! No! No! (And I am NOT quoting Amy Winehouse lyrics, even if I may need to go into rehab to get over this shite). "Danny, Sir Tom, Jessie, Will". Reggie made a joke about Will.to.live.is.fading by commenting that he "reinvents the language every Saturday". I would prefer to recognise the phenomenon as Will "fucking up all letters and sense, such that what comes from his mouth is of less use than a fucking jamboree bag in a car crash".
Jessie appeared on screen and I instantly said "Minnie Mouse" to Mrs MWSC. This was not a request (although a cup of tea instead would have been welcome) and nor was I describing Mrs MWSC, but I was announcing what I thought of the daft-looking Jessie J.
Holly: "It's all about Team Jessie and Team Danny." [Hang on, IAATV isn't it?]
Jessie took her rabble bowling, and I mused that I wish they'd all go on strike rather than score one. We were then 'treated' [NOTE - that's sarcasm of the highest cuntin' order] to a noise from Jessie and her team - Vince, Becky, Toni and Cassius. Four bricks and a cowbell in a cement mixer would have created a better sound. Words fail me - but I'll have a go anyway. Shit, cuntin crap, bollocks, screech, wail, whine, noise, tinitus, agony, howl, horrendous fucking apology for entertainment. There were no 'pitching issues' at all, just an issue with five people opening their mouths. Having said that, their voiceboxes needed to be disabled as well, because I recken this mob couldn't even have hummed in tune. Jessie's earpiece wasn't working at the start. Shame I'm not deaf because I didn't have my own earpiece to turn off!
On to the contest (if that's what it is) and a prompt to Danny O'Gurner, and the intro for Max singing.
Max
Danny: "I chose Max over Hannah because he's a one man band." [Hang on , you twat, IAATV isn't it?]
Danny: "He wants to use the loop pedal." [Hang on, IAATV isn't it?]
We then had to endure so much talk about the fucking pedal, I was wishing he'd be given a pedalo instead! Then he came on with a guitar, because we've established that it's not, in fact, all about the voice.
Watching Danny gurning and jiggling in the chair, and clapping and irritating the fuck out of planet Earth was not my idea of entertainment. What made his efforts more inappropriate was the performance from the artist known as Max - who was awful. It took just a few seconds to establish this fact, and I considered that Hollery's introduction could have been tweaked slightly. "Give it up for Max" could have had the "for" dropped, and Holly would then have been giving a contestant more relevant advice than any of the four judges have done so far in the competition!
The loop pedal gimic worked, apparently, but we surely weren't here to experience four "A-listers" [sarcasm again, folks, but Holly started it!] judging the success of a loop pedal, and a singer's fucking foot (?)
Danny: "To get something you haven't got, you have to do something you haven't done before."
Neitzsche: "Danny, you're a prize pillock."
Will.i.nod.off?: "I feel good." [Half a million quid for that!]
Jessie: "Blah, blah, song choice, blah, like, I'm just sayin', blah."
Holly: "Let's get some constructive advice off Tom." [I admire your optimism, Hol]
Tom: "Max entertained me. Sometimes you have to go off-road." Oh dear, oh dear. No constructive advice then, but hang on - the hint about driving off road (and perhaps over a cliff) was on second thoughts spot on.
Cassius
If Max might have been better driving over a cliff, then this effort from Cassius was, to stick with a driving analogy, a real pile-up of a car crash. So awful, I cannot write words to relay adequately or properly my pain. Danny chipped in with "Pitchy" and "A couple of tuning issues" and I sat on my sofa with the opinion that the tuning issue was there cuntin' wasn't one. No fucker likes to hold a note these day, but instead, it seems standard operating procedure is to meander through some sort of Beyonce training regime! WTF? Tom and Jessie said nothing of more value than the dregs in my can of Carlsberg, but between tweets, pig.swill.me came out with evidence of dementia: "Sensibility, capability, sway, the way you row, spectacular, spinning, like, like, so, mummy can you tell the voices they can go to sleep now." Cassius - you were truly awful.
Bo
Bo: "This time I need to stand on that stage and be brave, be a warrior, be a rock." No, luv. Just fuckin' sing, will you?
She was good, there's no denying it. However, I cannot be the only person to see the flaw in her abilities; her breathy and weak high notes can work on songs that are 'gentle' but there's no power at all when she goes higher. This will mean she's limited to Dido type stuff.
Danny: "I love how you sing, and how you move around the stage. Especially as you've had a bad back all week." [Hang on, IAATV isn't it?]
Will: "You sang it a whole bunch of times more better. Bo, whoa!" Stick to tweeting, you twit. Then we had a silly conversation amongst the judges about rhymes.
Tom: "Nerves is part of being a human being. We all have nerves . . . . . . . .yawn . . . [Thanks, Tom]
Vince
Holly: "When you sing, it brings sunshine into the studio." Yes, Holly, UV rays - Useless Vince.
Tom: "He sounds like himself." [Thanks, Tom. Another half million pounds all right for the next series?]
Danny: "You could literally sing the phone book and it would sound amazing." You nob-head. Stick to the script [Ha! Get it?]
Last.will.and.testament: " . . . . . . ." [That was him tweeting, rather than paying attention to his job]
Vince, I am sorry but you're nowhere near as good as you think you are, or as good as these muppets would have you believe. It's all at the level of a works-do karaoke.
Reggie Yates
Reggie posed some tricky, searching questions to the competitors. I jest, of course - he did no such thing. He did what any five-year-old could have done with a plastic microphone from the pound shop. The only thing he got back by way of a comment worth reporting ('worth' in the sense of highlighting illiteracy) was from Max, who said: "I was definitely shook doin' it." Thanks, Max, Reggie. Much wiser I am now.
Aleks
If he sang at his kid sister's 6th birthday party, then he'd probably go down a storm. However, Leaks, or Lakes or whatever his name is, was boring as fuck. It was little better than 'Bah Bah Black Sheep' to background music. It just didn't get going, there was nothing exciting about it, and it was like unrolling a hallway carpet; start at one end, unroll. and then shut the door. I know all this was true, because I observed Tom nodding off during the 'performance'. I swear he would have been happy if he'd been airlifted and plonked in a rocking chair in a Canadian log cabin by a nice fire. I said to Mrs MWSC that this effort by Aleks was like an injection at the doctors, being done too slowly.
Danny: "Listen to that - silence. The sound of the whole UK's heart breaking."
Bjork: "Shh Shh."
Danny, you nob, the silence was because everyone hearing the mumbled nursery rhyme had a stroke. One side of each victim's face had dropped all of a sudden and no one could speak.
Will.i.bother.to.comment then bothered to comment by saying he liked Aleks's style but that he ought to 'push it' more. His view that Aleks was a bit subdued on every performance was contested by Danny, who piped up in defence of Aleks that the chap was only 17 years old. [Hang on, IAATV isn't it?] Then Danny came out with a fantastic comment/admission:
Danny O'Shut Up: "He's not a strong singer, he's a strong tone."
Ludwig Wittgenstein: "Danny, you're an arse on the face of an arse."
Tom then chipped in with another rambling monologue, the first few words of which were: "Let's remind ourselves that he'd only seventeen." [Hang on, IAATV isn't it?] The rest of his input was muddled, but included: "I remember when I was seventeen. Seventeen is not a time to relax. I know when I was seventeen I wasn't relaxed. When I was seventeen I wanted to set the world on fire. The performance was very relaxed; too relaxed. You don't want to be too relaxed. It was too safe." Jesus! Relax, Tom. Get some Horlicks and count to ten.
Becky
This is the girl with a reasonably good voice, who has strange mannerisms, and likes to stomp, jerk and have weird mini tantrums while singing. It's a strange style, and mildly offputting.
She came out and sang, marched, stomped, jerked, and had a weird series of mini tantrums which I found mildly offputting.
Afterwards, she had an attention-seeking crisis of confidence, and the big jessie had to be hugged by the even bigger Jessie. Jessie J's comments were confusing and contradictory. "I can't wait to get you to sing slow stuff and people can hear your tone . . . . . tone . . . . tone."
Tom used the opportunity to mention that he'd previously likened her to Janis Joplin, and that Becky had not known who Janis Joplin was, and so he took the opportunity to mention again the wonderful Janis Joplin whom he'd known very well, and that being likened to Janis Joplin was a compliment of the highest order.
O'Do You Danny said something nice, and will.u.ever.all.the.time said "Great" which was at least something that didn't include the most overused word of all time ('Artist').
Becky marched off stage, in combats, boots and with her attention seeking ways having been met with attention.
David
At last, someone who was good. He sang 'She Will Be Loved' by Maroon 5. This was a song which Danny had some views on, and a strange way of telling us why he picked it.
Danny O'No Clue: "It's gonna paint you out in your best light."
Vincent Van Gogh: "Danny, how many ears have you lost, you daft nob?"
The song was well sung, and although he played the guitar [Hang on, IAATV isn't it?] I will forgive him.
i.am.all.woman managed "Real cool, I liked it" and so has taken to commenting in real life like a fucking tweet / twit / twerp / twat / twoo. An argument then broke out between Will and Danny about song choices and not taking risks, and Jessie had to step in as referee - well, dressed in black and white vertical stripes (like a US football referee) she had to really. All this meant time was wasted and David was deprived of some proper recognition. As Holly steered the show back on course, I heard Tom shout "Man the lifeboats". Sorry, that was a joke - he actually called out, "I loved it" as Hollery moved us along to the last performer.
Toni
She sang with lots of emotion, no doubt. However, she sang like a non-English speaker, pronouncing words in ways that defied logic, and at times the sounds were not even human. My own comment to Mrs MWSC was "A non-English speaker in a bear trap" and while she was not physically trapped or restrained, it must have been a close shave . . . .
Holly, in her Lonsdale Belt, oversaw the positive comments from the judges. I was almost going to be sarcastic and use Holly's "A-Listers" again, but none of the four would know what a list is!
The final visit to the V Room with Reggie holding his ice cream was as rewarding as coming last in a breathing competition with dead people.
Sunday - Results
Ruth and Leanne opened the show with a noisy song, assuming for some reason that the decibel level has some relevance to quality of performance. Hopefully someone will tell them this is not so before they sing with consequences on the show next Saturday.
Minnie Mouse said she'd be deciding on who was going through by going with her heart. Tom said something naf about Ruth & Leanne's singing being the delicious hors d'oeuvres, and not being able to wait for the main course. Will commented on Reggie's attitre, calling him 'Fashion Obama' which suggests to me that will.u.sit.down.and.shut.up is a moron.
Danny: "Team Danny performed like they always do, amazing."
[Translation: "Team Danny performed like it always does, amazingly." - Please note, this was a technical translation, and was in no way an endorsement of the actual content or meaning, which was of course complete bollocks on both counts]
The "Artist" saved from Jessie's team was Vince, and then Paloma Faith warbled fairly well before we found that Bo was successful from Danny's team in getting through. Then we had to whizz over to Regiie for some valuable input. I heard a few "What does it mean to you . . . . . . . " questions that were pointless, and learned that a few people had so much more to give - which begs the question "why the fuck are you holding back then?" but Reggie didn't ask that. "How much does this actually mean to you?" is so much more magnolia, don't you think? Reggie's summing up was choice English.
Reggie: "You all done fantastic. Holly, it's back to you."
Barney Rubble: "Uhh, okay Reggie."
Jessie waffled about nothing, when trying to say nice things to the has-beens. For example, to Cassius it was: "I've seen you relax, vocally let go; on Saturday did you let go enough? Vocally your tone is unique [thank fuck!] and there's no one that sings like you." [thank fuck again] Becky was likened to a sponge and Jessie mentioned the word 'tone' three times for no good reason. As for her comments on Toni, I lost the will to think that there would ever be honesty on TV again. "I like the light and shade, the way you sing, the way you pronounce your words [ie. wrongly] and so I'm gonna base my decision on the only way I know, being an artist, person and coach." Now we've got Jessie referring to herself as an artist! Becky got the nod.
Tyler and Jaz had a singing competition, to see whose nuts had been squeezed the kost, and could thus hit the highest note. "Roxanne, you don't have to put on the red light" - well she might not have to, but some cunt ought to have done, to stop this high-pitched pain.
Danny mentioned a few things in summing up his remaining three.
Danny: "Max, you write, play guitar and takes chances [Hang on, IAATV isn't it?]. Aleks, I see you selling a lot of records [not if your just about to piss him off!] and David, I see a lot of myself in you [well, there's no need to be critical now!]
"I am going to base my decision on personal opinion." You bell-end, Danny - that's what you're supposed to do as a judge, not relay the outcome of a lucky dip conducted by Leprechaun's in Gallway!
"All of them are gonna go on and do amazing things." [I doubt that most sincerely]
Danny picked Max, who writes, plays guitar, uses a loop pedal (and probably knows how to use a pedalo when he's on holiday) but he cannot unfortunately sing. [Hang on, IAATV isn't it?]
Aleks sulked like a seventeen year old. Hang on, he is seventeen, isn't he? When Tom was a seventeen year old, he didn't sulk. When Tom was seventeen . . . . . . . . . . . .
There you have it, a summary of shite over two days. In the results show alone, the "Artist" description was used 16 times, and no one sectioned will.i.still.be.here.tomorrow unfortunately.
The pain continues next weekend.
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