Wailing Willis and Pointless Marvin introduced us to the final, which included four contestants, two for Ricky, one for Tom and one for Will. Rita Oral was a spectator this week, and so her meaningless input was for once not going to have any repercussions for a so-called 'artist'.
Sasha kicked us off, singing a ballad while ten people had epileptic fits around her on the stage. "I Can't Believe What I Did For Love," sang she, but we did not get any clues as to what she actually did. Ritalin was roused from her coma by Wailing Willis, and made some generic comments in that nauseating style that confirms a fucked-up accent and twang.
Suave Marv was allegedly hanging out in the V-Room, according to Willis. We switched to him for ten seconds, then back to Willis, who introduced Emmanuel. This all involved more ping-pong than necessary. I was still reeling at the use of 'suave' while the VT updated us on Emmanuel's life.
Emmanuel sang Somebody That I Used To Know - badly. Very badly, torturing us for ninety seconds. "The amazing Emmanuel," drawled Willis, lying overtly to a few million viewers. "I'm so proud of all the contestants in this show," said Rita, somehow deciding (yet again) that confirmation of her pride was essential. Stupid biddy.
Lucy seems a nice enough woman, and sang No Surprises, and yet again I was made to wonder how the hell she can be compared with the other three finalists. This song was shit. Yes, she sang it well, but it was bollocks, belonging in a show somewhere else. Will lost the plot about magic, being magical and generally raved about it. Tom was impressed with her dress, because of course, it's all about the voice. Ricky (dressed as a waiter) was on a par with Nick Clegg in terms of relevance.
Stevie, in the VT, went back to his high school, for some weird reason, before a visit to the fire station. He sang I'll Stand By You, and I rather wished he wouldn't. The threat was carried out, though, and so for ninety seconds, I listened to a warbling pain emanating from his mouth. Of the four contestants, his voice has the least about it in terms of being different/special/recognisable. "He knew he had something to do, and he did it," said Wilson. "You came across as a man singing," said Tom. What a twat-of-a-comment, Tom!
Marvin tried to create some value in his presence on the show by interviewing the four finalists in the V-Room, but failed. The pointless questions gave rise to the cliches and cuntish crap that we've come to expect. Fortunately his input lasted for just a minute before we switched to Wailing Willing, who confirmed the lines were open for votes to be registered. The all-important numbers (well, unimportant, I maintain) were put on screen, and then Willis removed a few frequencies from my audible range by wailing some more.
Rita Ora was up next, although first we had to endure all and sundry sucking up to her, and telling us how amazing she is. Before Kiora appeared on stage, a bloke on the piano confirmed he could not sing and was talentless. Then she appeared, to deliver some shit in non-harmony with the twat on piano. I am confident that there was no one in the studio during rehearsals who was brave enough to stand up and call the whole shebang a pile of shit; hence, it was signed off as acceptable for the masses. It did, though, give me time to go and get another can of lager. I would gladly hand over a tenner if I could be assured of never ever hearing this bollocks again. Charles Hamilton is the name to avoid, folks.
Sasha and Tom - She was better than him, but that's not really saying much, eh? A fucking racket all round; crap song! Tom really does need to take up the place reserved for him at the donkey sanctuary.
"What is it like doing it with Tom for the second time?" asked Willis. "The first time was incredible, but to do it again!" answered Sasha. Well, really!
Emmanuel and Ricky - Crazy was the song choice. Not too bad, actually! Well done. Signed, Sealed and delivered. This guy is too nice and humble to get very far, sadly.
Lucy and Will - Some noise from Carmen was offered up (Habanera) but again I was struggling to make any sort of evaluation. Will,i,am contributed with nothing of any value at all, other than a weird undermining of an operatic performance. Weird.i.am was certainly on form. The whole thing was strangely enigmatic, and certainly rather better than Rita Ora and Charles Hamilton. Oddly okay.
Stevie and Ricky - introduced yet again as "The Hero", I struggled to contain my annoyance. If your job is a fireman, you are not automatically a 'hero'. He then proceeded to sing Get Back To Where You Once Belonged, and I wished to cuntin fuck that he would! Mediocrity was never so fucking mediocre!
Paloma Faith - yawn. Pronounce your words, woman!
There was a further episode in the "Blow Smoke Up Kiora's Kunt" saga. How absolutely shite. She is NOT that good, people!
RESULT - Fucking joke! Sasha and Emmanuel have voices that are more distinctive than Stevie, and the programme is called The Voice. Lucy and Stevie made the final two - so, the real/proper final then.
The next section was painful as hell, getting us to the moment of truth. It included yet more sucking up to Kiora. Then we had to have The Script on stage.
The winner was . . . . . . . Stevie - fucking joke.
Ah well, fewer than 1000 albums is his destiny, as with all past winners of The Voice.
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