The Voice maintained its all-time low, this week, and I struggled through the process of giving it my attention. As ever, there was the usual mix of gurning and miming from the four judges/coaches, as they tried to convince us of their angst while confirming they knew the words of the song. This was followed religiously by the inane comments by those who decided not to spin in their chairs, as they tried to find something helpful to say to the disappointed singers. The coaches, without exception, seem to think their levels of inner turmoil are of interest to us, notwithstanding the fact that in no one case at all was the struggle real. Any cunt can press a fucking button!
Out the back, the families were given intermittent air time, so that each and every short performance from the one who allegedly had a voice was interrupted by the wails and screams of those shouting at the four button-pushers to "press the button" in a manner than reminds me of the Peter Kay "Mum, get a spooooon" sketch. I consider the show (up to this stage) would have been better labelled "The Wailing Families" rather than "The Voice".
Marvin Humes should change his name to Marvin Bland, or perhaps opt instead for "Marvin The Bland", as this would be so much more appropriate and in harmony with his general demeanour and level of ability.
Having had my fill of sob stories, I hope that we don't have to listen to the same guff as the 48 who've gone through are cut to 24 in the next round. People die every day, people have struggles everywhere, but listening to this is not any substitute for entertainment.
The Tom Barnwell chap started things off and this led to the spontaneous 'dancing' of the judges, and general stupidity. For once, the inanimate and lazy Tom Jones was the only one acting sensibly. There then followed some general shit for a while, as my life was eaten by time wasters.
A major "low" this week was the inclusion of Angie Brown, the 50-year-old who had a chart/club hit in 1992 with "Why Waste Your Time" [the irony was not lost on me, even if it was lost on Angie].. In effect, she came on to the stage and simply sang her hit record of 22 years ago. Exactly HOW does that fit in with any of the aims of the programme? She didn't get through; she has got a good voice, and that was probably why her single was a hit, albeit a song which contained only a dozen or so words. If she'd got through, then it would have been a licence for every singer who's ever made the charts in the last thirty years to come back and sing the record again. For this, I can watch Top Of The Pops Two, thank you very much.
This week we were treated to a mixed bag of performers. Mild annoyance came from the Essex rabble who were there to support Luciee Marie Closier - no I have not misspelled her first name, that really is the deal. The rabble screaming "press the button" (which the BBC decided I needed to see and hear almost as much as Luciee) consisted of many matching females. Alongside Mr Bland were the Blondes, all out of a bottle, and providing the standard Essex look.
In contrast, Nomakhosi brought just two people along to cheer for her. She got through and went with Kylie, and we edged closed to the end of this stage of the competition. There was so much mediocrity served up that I thought I might instead get some entertainment from a quick stare at the skirting board. Emma Willis, via a voice over, advised me there was "only one coach left who can press their button" and thus displayed complete ignorance of English, and all she had to do was say "his" instead. If there's a last coach anywhere, I'm on it - out of here.
ALLIYAH was not my set of seven letters for Scrabble, but the name of the 17-year-old who had a weak voice but who hoped her rapping would create enough of a diversion that the coaches wouldn't notice. To their credit, they did, and so came a few tears. Kylie displayed an ignorance of adverbs and a misplaced bias to adjectives through her summing up, and the prophetic: "This is real hard", which of course it most certainly was not.
Will's weird mutterings about ducks led to the screen caption of quackers.i.am and never a truer word/term was written.
I am pleased that this chair-spinning bollocks is now over, but this does NOT mean things will get any better. We will soon see the coaches 'agonising' over which of their acts (the ones they have just spent weeks collecting after pulling silly faces and blowing smoke up arses) they will kick into touch. There will be tears, and people saying they've "worked so hard" etc. Yawn. Maybe phase two of The Voice should be called The Whine. Meanwhile, here's a gratuitous photo of Kylie.
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