Top of the Pops

Welcome to the lowlight of your Christmas, my TOTP blog. And I've got James here with me for once to add his own brand of bile. It's really hard to write a blog on a phone so take heed and pity me, for suffering in more ways than one.
I have never heard this Take That song before, but we both agree the brand is not working as a three. Everyone wants a (Jason) Orange in their stocking. Why not get a new member? James Corden seemed up for it on the Gogglebox repeats - sorry, highlights - last night. James says he feels something about the way Gary sings feels patronising. If you're feeling patronised by Gary Barlow in a Christmas jumper, you're probably not at your mental best.
Who the fuck are Gorgon City? Isn't that a brand of cheese? Oh no, that's gorgonzola and Cathedral City. Is this dubstep? James; 'There's a rent a raver down the front.' James is convinced they film this TOTP in July and then just CGI Ben Haenow in at the end.
James: 'When's Florence on?' I think she's reanimating in her oxygen chamber, I've not seen her for at least a year.
Up next, Schmuck. Spelt Sigma. Isn't that some X Factor reject? Oh it's like drum and bass or something. They've half got the washing machine but not quite. Come back Ed Sheeran, all is forgiven. Not really, fuck off.
I'm not mentioning Fearne and Reggie this year as they're beneath contempt.
Next up is The Vamps, a 'youtube sensation'; like Frankie Grande but less likeable. James says they look like they might be playing in a bar in the background in The Knick. If that's not funny, direct your complaints to him as I don't watch it. Jingle Bells is not a valid Christmas cover version. This is endless. There's only one fucking verse to Jingle Bells, you cunts!
Fearne likes Foo Fighters, or her autocue says she does. Well, someone has to. I have never heard any of these songs that have been out this year, thank fuck. Yet still I want to punch Sam Smith in the chops.
James: 'Fresh from making computers, it's Tom O'Dell.' Who's this miserable sod? Bring back the garage. Bring back Pharrell. James says, 'Bring back Jingle Bells.' This is a song for those who started drinking port too early on Christmas and are crying already.
McBusted. My mum's favourite. I had to buy her their CD for Christmas. I'm not even joking. Do you know how that's going to screw up my recommendations on Amazon? Disgusting. This is anti-awesome. We think might have just heard the lyrics 'More range than Brian May.' Still I suppose it's cheaper to smash up a 'air guitar' than a real one not one of the pricks can play anyway. I hope the missing one with the eyebrows is having a lie in.
Next in the aural torture chamber is Coldplay. Who'd have thought the man who wrote the beautiful The Scientist could follow that with literally hundreds of duff, samey s-hits that make you want to consciously uncouple with your own eardrums. Just stop. Stop it now, just like the sex offenders charity. Also, stop wasting paper. That confetti is murders to clear up.
One thing I will say in Fearne and Reggie's defence, they're not incessantly telling me what's coming up next for once. Probably because everyone's turned off in previous years when they did.
Next up is Rixston. Me and James simultaneously: 'who?' James: 'These people all look privately educated. How do people know the words to this song? They must play it to them in the queue.' The singer looks like Shane Ritchie.
Next up, Jeff Probst from Survivor. Oh no, it's Mr Probz. This is the worst yet. I prefer Mr Oizo.This is a new low, even worse than that twit on the piano.
The next person 'had people literally pouring out of his tent at Glastonbury' - yep, running for the nearest Herbal Highs stand, no doubt. George Ezra? Pigeon toed twat. Knock-kneed gnat. I think he just sang a line about Gordon Brown. James is becoming hysterical, and not in a good way. We're praying to be called for dinner right now.
James says there's a lot of 'sub UB40 stuff out at the moment.' Just stop and consider that sentence. Sub UB40. Fuck.
Next up is Ella Henderson. I've not heard this much but it sounds like it's off an advert. Her mouth gets on my nerves. I know that's not her fault, but there it is. James is nodding his head to this one, it's his second favourite after Take That.
My mum has just come in to express her disgust at at Matt Willis. She said 'He takes over the whole band. Talk about ruining a good group.' Hold on, I just bought you their CD, I say. She goes, 'I like to listen to them but I couldn't watch a DVD with them on now. I don't know how Emma Willis puts up with him.' Fair comment, but he had to put up with her misogyny and bias so it's swings and roundabouts. No point trying to explain that to my mum, though.
'Ed Sheeran, your favourite!' I went to James. My mum failed to detect the sarcasm and said 'I knew gingers would have their day.' Ed Sheeran has not even got a nice voice. It sounds whiny. I didn't look up once when he was on. Offensive to all senses.
Who are Clean Bandit? Sounds like Mr Muscle. My mum is not impressed. But she has got a large glass of Baileys. I've not even had a drink yet. God knows I need one.
My mum is looking at the CD cover for her McBusted CD now. I said, 'Sorry, I should have crossed out Matt Willis's face for you' and she goes, 'Dont worry, I can do that', quick as you like, followed by 'He's gross.'
Haenow now. I've heard from a reliable source that he wasn't even a van driver. Honestly. How will the pop lizards try and pull the wool over our eyes next? Why wasn't he there in the studio? Could they not afford the CGI? Poor sod, he'll never get to be on TOTP now. His career will be over by next Christmas.
I asked my mum to sum up that TOTP in one words. She said, crap. On that note, I wish you a merry Christmas, JLS style. Have a good one.

Christmas Top of the Pops 2013

It's that time of the year again - time to be sat in a room and tortured. No, not being in the same vicinity as your family for Christmas, but by facing the onslaught of Christmas TOTP. I've blogged this for the past few years, so I suppose it's a tradition, like having a festive punch up, or puking up. 

With the spectre of Jimmy Saville hanging over the show - and now the reminder of real-life monster Ian Watkins (no, not that one) permeating round Fearne Cotton - we look to Reggie Yates for some wholesome entertainment, ha. Heaven help us. 

First up, John Newman. I don't know who that is. He sounds like he has a mouth full of biscuits. It's like Prof Green, Plan B and James Arthur have been mashed into one person, as if the three of them weren't bad enough (I actually like James Arthur, even though that's not socially acceptable). 

Oh no, I'm not going to know who anyone is, am I? Old age! I curse you. 

My mums boyfriend just came in to discuss Ian Watkins. Fearne Cotton: you are now firmly associated with baby rape. I don't think even she deserves this. 

I have seen Chase and Status on some Glastonbury footage, I think. Is anything new anymore? Everything is referencing or sampling something else. Dear God, I AM OLD. 

Next up: Boyzone. Gately was the only likeable one, really. One looks like a potato. One ruined Corrie. One has tattoos and some quirky eyebrows. One 'nearly got punched in a fight, it's alright.' But is it? 

I don't understand this Rizzle Kicks thing. It sounds like Suggs. It makes me want to smash a cup, too. Is that a trombone? Yegads. 

Who is Tom Odell? Is he for those who find Ed Sheeran a bit perky? 

Ah, here's Jessie J, she'll get things going. Seriously, who are her fans? I've never met one. She's channelling Brian Molko with 'your only friend is your phone.' Except he's good. I would happily watch her burn. BURN! Burn her. 

I'm getting hungry now. My mum's boyfriend is shocked I don't know who this indie band is - Bastille. The frontman looks like Nick Grimshaw. There's too many beards in indie at the moment. I refuse to like any band containing more than one beard. This is not doing anything for me. No amount of confetti can melt my grinch heart. 

The Saturdays look waxy. Have they been reanimated? Does anyone know anything about any of these women? They are like girlband Sims. There's not a personality between five of them. And a couple of bras wouldn't go amiss. People are eating. 

Oh God, not more garage! Is garage back now? I missed who this was but it's another Plan B type, someone looking creepy in a coat, and sounding like Daniel Beddingfield. Is this what we want from a popstar? I didn't ask for this.

Even my mum - who you'd think was the target audience - is appalled by the sight of James Blunt. Imagine being in James Blunt's backing band. I'd rather be Jedward's guitarist. The drummer's got his scarf on, ready to leave. It's like watching Prince William get up to sing a carol at Christmas. 

There's now an argument going on about bread sauce. This is in real life, not on TOTP. 

I'm getting fucked off now. Not more shouty sub-garage, sub-trance, sub-drum-and-bass. This is virtually the same song that was on at the start. I need a wee. There's no pause. I want my dinner. 

Is there no rap or rock in the world anymore? 

Ellie Goulding is so awful she's making me pine for Olly Murs. 

Who are OneRepublic? Is this a man band? Who's the audience for this turkey shit? This band is seedy. 

My mum is upset that McFly haven't been on. I think even I'm upset that McFly haven't been on. That's how bad this has been. 

And number one is... Sam Bailey. Oh well, at least after today I'll never have to hear this song again. Happy Christmas. 

Top of the Pops New Years Eve

I've written that title just as they have on the TV listing; no need for commas, dashes, or any other punctuation when you have offcuts from the dried old turkey you served us up on Christmas day to try and stuff down our neck again. It's all new stuff? Don't kid a kidder.
Oh yeah, here's Girls Aloud. At least they're doing the one with a tune this time. I mean, it has a tune compared to the other one, not to something actually with a tune.
So, I have to tell you, I'm not going out tonight. My boyfriend is working, my best friend is pregnant, and other offers haven't exactly been flying in (can't think why). So here's what I'm gonna do: get up at 7am when my boyfriend gets in and celebrate New Year then. We'll probably have midnight about midday. So I'll be tucked up before any fireworks go off tonight. I'll tape all the rubbish TV, shut the curtains and just watch it all tomorrow. It could be a LONG day. Or a short, messy one.
Anyway, less about my personal life, here's Ellie Goulding. Was she on the Xmas day show? I don't remember seeing her enormous face there. An undercut does not a popstar make. Oh, she's forgotten to put her trousers on like Arg in the live TOWIE (disclaimer: I do not watch TOWIE, just watched 5 minutes to see what the hoo ha was about). ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN! sings Ellie. Except for the BBC being called into account for aiding and abetting a paedophile for a few decades. And a decent song coming on this TOTP. Apart from those two things, anything could happen.
I'm drinking and eating chocolate now, so I guess NYE has begun, even if it's my stunted little gnarled version of it. Just spoke to my best friend on the phone and she's going to bed now because she's got to get up at 4am to go to work, so things could be worse. Her boyfriend is staying in too. We're a useless lot!
LOL, Script dude who looks like Peter Andre is talking in an American accent. This song made me bellow with laughter the first and only time I heard it before this. You can be an astronaut... it's like this prick and Will.i.am are your primary school careers advisor. Go work in a call centre instead. Is Willy going to beam in? Hologram? Or just a sick note? YOU CAN BE A CHAMPION. 'Be truth seekers' is my favourite line. Has William been going on about UFOs again? Don't go to McDonalds with him, he nearly did a Brian Harvey on Cheryl Cole last time. If you like this song, go to the doctors. Your marbles have fallen out.
They are mentioning some singers who died this year. Don't suppose I should make a joke about that. Jubilee; blah, lizard queen, blah. Next. I want to say something funny about Reggie and Fearne but there's nothing to say. They're so bland they make my humour chip dry up.
Oh Christ, it's pop's sourest female talent judge, Tulisa. Who is writing her tweets? She's completely illiterate. Is it OK for her to make death threats etc on there? Good example! That and the bag snatching. Great choice of the new 'nations sweetheart', Simon. This song is equally catchy and annoying like Saturday Night by Whigfield. This isn't her sort of music. Where's the URBAN? Louis Walsh is going to turn on, think that's urban, and get all confused and unnecessary. I went to Ibiza this year and playing in the clubs were Tulisa, Kaiser Chiefs and Sting. And here ends that sentence.
Next up, the Macabees. These do seem to be different bands to who were on the Xmas day show, well except Girls Aloud. Who are the Macabees? Have I even spelt that right? The Macabees, The Vaccines, Ed Sheeran, it's all just music for people who don't like music, not like that good stuff we used to have, like Marion and Mansun and Menswear. Not sure this guy's hair is naturally jet black. His barnet is like Nick Cave meets Steve McDonald. Now there's a collision Street Cars aren't insured for. Maca-blees. Imagine going to their gig? I'd rather go to Tulisa's. NEXT!
Now for Taylor Swift, who's not really there. This song is catchy, catchier than a zombie virus. I put in the same box as that Call Me Maybe bullshit. You'll be singing it later, but you'll want to stab yourself in the eye for it. I can never quite get over her teeth. She looks like Bugs Bunny. I know they've got dentists in America, because they did Brandon's veneers, right? Does anyone REALLY believe she's fucking Harry Styles? That kid's got more beards than a Father Christmas convention. It makes me sick the way magazines sexualise One Direction. THEY ARE CHILDREN. They might be barely legal but it's still fucking sick. The talking bit in this song makes me cringe, too. 'I was like, whatever.' Yeah, whatever, Taylor, stop sleeping around, who do you think you are, Rhianna? Of course, it's alright for Harry Styles, because he's a man, and he's gay anyway, so it's not really happening. Come back Jonas Brothers, all is forgiven. I do like the Breaking Bad parody of this song, though, and it makes me go 'ooh, Heisenberg' whenever I hear it, so it's not all nuclear war and famine.
Who the fuck are Stooshy? Stooshe?! Is that Emile Sande again, smuggling herself back in under false pretences. 'Daddy, I'm falling for a monster, he's scaring me to death, he's big and he's bad, he's the best I've ever had'. Please tell me I just hallucinated those lyrics. Fuck, I'm going to have to pause and go and get a vodka. Is this like a doo wop song about domestic violence? These lyrics are creepier than 'He hit me and it felt like a kiss'. Plus, why would you tell your parents 'he's the best I ever had'? TMI! Need to know basis! One just screeched at the end 'he got a dirty black heart'. There's probably an explicit version of this song. This is fucked in the head. Agog.
Next up, Tiny 'he's got so many clothes he keeps some at his aunt's house' Tempah and Calvin 'boring' Harris. This is dance music for people too thick to work out how to find where any proper dance music resides online. 'Tonight we're drinking from the bottle!' Yeah, probably other people's. At least Tiny seems to have a sense of humour, what with those clothes and everything. Calvin (worst popstar name ever) just seems to have got lost on his way to accounts. What a knob twiddler. This song is making me SO GLAD I'm not going out tonight. People. Tubes. Music. Urgh. Just pass the valium and let's sleep through the lot of it.
Next up is Arlissa, or Shakira with no trousers on, if you prefer. I don't.
Oh fucking hell, it's Robbie Williams again. Thanks for making the last part of 2012 unbearable, you fat odious fuckface. He also ruined the first few seconds of the new Millennium for me, as the club I was in (Passion!) played a dance version of, you guessed it, Millennium. Motherfuckers. Oh well, his lyrics are always a good laugh. He looks jaundiced. Hopefully he's dying. I know it sounds harsh, but if it was him or Gary hanging off a cliff, you know who you'd save. You know!
What has he got in his hand? Is he conducting? Imagine being in Robbie Williams' backing band. You'd honestly be better off working in an abattoir, wouldn't you? It would be less morally abhorrent.
This song doesn't even have any funny lyrics, it's just blahblahblahblah. Go fish those bodies out of the Bodhi tree, you fucking tortoise.
Ah, finally. I like this Rita Ora song. I never used to admit I liked any pop music, this year I've actually confessed to a few guilty pleasures. My boyfriend likes Diamonds by Rhianna but only the 'shine bright like a diamond' backing bit. Rita's looking a bit more presentable tonight, but still a bit like she's wearing a 6-year-old's quilt cover. Rita. It's not exactly a rock and roll name, is it? Next up, it's Mavis with Deathsticks!
Next up are the Rizzle Kicks. I've got a bad feeling about this. I thought Rizzle Kicks was a person, like Dizzie Rascal. Oh Lord, there's a onesie, and a Burberry scarf. Mama do the hump? Fuck off.
And now James Arthur is back again, reanimated. Have they fixed his teeth yet? No, it's just the same performance they showed on Christmas Day. Oh, so he did finally get to number one. Knocked those poor dead children off the top spot did you, hey, Cowell? I hope you're pleased with yourself. Happy New Year, you bastard.

Top of the Pops Christmas 2012

Well here we are with Exitainment's inaugural Christmas TOTP blog and I hope Fearne and Reggie are going to give a full apology at the start of the show. No not for Jimmy Savile, but for the appalling music coming up.
Oh Christ, I hate it when they tell me what's next, it makes me despair. First up, Robbie Williams. My boyfriend insists this song is Ring of Roses. Oh, he even says it. This is entirely tuneless. This fat cunt can't sing a note. Has he been smoking crack? I'd rather watch Gary Barlow duet with Christopher Maloney again. My boyfriend said Gary co-wrote this as 'industrial sabotage'. The audience looks like a bad hen do, it's like they've made sure everyone's over 40 in case of any misunderstandings. I can safely say that's the worst Robbie Williams song ever released. It makes Rudebox sound like Everyday is like Sunday.
So, Call Me Maybe is rubbish except for the chorus. Did anyone order a female Justin Beiber? Take it back, then. The audience are too old to have heard of this song, but at least no one will get molested, except maybe Carly Rae thingybob.
Conor Maynard is like an uglier Justin Beiber, if that was possible. I don't know who this little prick is, but he's got a very punchable face. He looks like Toby Maguire pre-plastic surgery. This is completely TUNELESS. FUCK OFF. This has gone on about 5 minutes longer than it should have.
My boyfriend is shocked they've not changed the logo or renamed it TOTPv2 or something. They truly are shameless. Fearne: apologise immediately. On your knees. Reggie, keep your hands in your pockets.
Paloma Faith is just a walking car boot sale on legs. Why is she dragging Michael Hutchence's dead body out of the closet for Christmas? Let Peaches and Astile enjoy Christmas in peace. I didn't know Paloma thing even sang, I thought she just made a career out of getting on 'worst dressed' lists. That personality is completely put on, too. I've seen more authentic Ray-Bien sunglasses.
My boyfriend: 'Is Fearne pregnant?' No, she's just gobbled up a passing baby.
Sam and the Womp? Have I missed something? Has Bjork fallen on hard times? Ali G has turned up in his Jim'll fix it tracksuit, that's in poor taste. I have never heard this song before in my life. Hopefully I'll never hear it again. You have to respect a fringe that short, though. Please get that trumpet off my screen. Come back 2 Unlimited, all is forgiven.
Oh fuck, someone's reanimated Florence. She isn't dead? Why does she look like that, then? I'd rather be locked in a room and forced to listen to Enya for three weeks than listen to this bullshit. Where's the machine? Probably keeping an old lady alive over Christmas. Anyone who likes this kind of music will be first against the wall in my new world order. How old is Florence now? 26? In dog years, maybe.
Coldplay are being beamed in from a nuclear bunker. Apple's gone a bit mad with the magic markers. There's an elephant in the room: it ain't the only one! This song is shit. My boyfriend has just hid his head under a blanket.
Next up: Girls Aloud. Watch them not show Sarah Harding's face once cos its too busted. Kimberley is my favourite. This song is boring. The other one they've got out is better. There's a lot of ombré on that stage. 'I'm beautiful cos you love me'. You're dumped. What now? Girl power!
Has Rita Ora sorted out her fashion sense since X Factor? She's going 'huh!' like Jessie J. She's got foil pyjamas on. Also unflattering. Stick her in the oven. I like one of her songs. Not this one, though. Still, now we've got her, can we drown Jessie J?
What is 'rudimental feat John Newman'? What sort of music is this? He looks like some prick off Towie. He sounds like he's got a frog in his throat. Now someone in a Christmas jumper is playing a trumpet. Makes you pine for the lizard Queen's speech. There's a lot of people on that stage. All arseholes.
Reggie Yates: 'the power of love... ask your mum.' Patronising prick. You don't know when I was born! This is another song off a fucking advert. Why is there a guitar/bass-player there? The power of sludge. Fuck you po-faced snowmen and insipid girl. This is making me sleepy. My boyfriend's verdict: 'this makes me want to go in John Lewis and smash some shit up'.
Payphone! I think Payphone is my song of the year. I'm not even joking. Script dude and Will.i.am, not so much.
Has James Arthur had his teeth fixed? Nah, not yet. At least he's growing his hair out a bit now. I like this song! I think it's quite catchy.
I did enjoy The Killers Runaways song this year, too. I like Brandon when the vein in his neck is throbbing like he's just had words with Richard Dawkins. No sign of him here, though.
Argh, what is it with this Emily Sande agenda? Who are her fans? What sort of music is this? I feel oppressed by its averageness.
So James Arthur didnt even get Christmas number one? Haven't the people of Hillsborough suffered enough? Bland Aid. Ugh, what was the criteria for getting people to sing this song, Northern and a prick? And then pops up Fab Macca. Enough said. I'm pleased about the justice. No need to inflict this on us, too, though.
My mum's boyfriend has got some morphine patches. I think it might be time to slap on 17 of them. Merry Christmas.