Oh it's the indie X Factor! Isn't that Orange Unsigned Act? Well even if it is, that isn't presented by Fearne Cotton, arbiter of all things indie and '4 realz'. But it did have Alex James* as a judge- RIP. (He's not dead, just as good as)
This show is judged by 'real talent': Jamie Gargoyle, that bloke out of Texas and Dizzie ('oliday!) Rascal. I'm missing Chezza Cole already. (Not really)
The prize of this show is to perform live at Wembley. Well, it's better than playing for the Queen, I guess. Ooh and £100K. *cheese
Dizzie Rascal always looks stoned but at least he's good for a laugh. Jamie Cullum makes me feel physically sick. I don't know how Sophie Dahl can even look at him. Sharleen Spiteri: I'd rather have Louise Wener.
First up is a child band. One member is called 'Antizzle.' Watching Jamie Cullum getting 'down wiv da kids' was embarrassing. Oh this band is quite good (for kids). JOTV, your little brother appears to be in it.
Hold on, the judges just press a button, don't they speak?! Oh they do speak. They is loving it. Jamie Cullum would play that at a party! Would he fuck! He's play some tedious jazz whilst Dahl cooked something unspellable in her cardboard kitchen. Fuck off.
Dizzie Rascal really reminds me of my brother I don't speak to. My brother isn't black, but has that same glazed look about him. And probably for the same reason (stoned). But still, there's something I like about Dizzie. He's a chancer done good. He's cool for no reason.
Do we need to be told after the 2nd break who the judges are again? I've not got amnesia. I can remember those cunts a mile off.
Next up is a boy band called MANTRIX! Mantrix! Mantrix. They have an Antony Costa figure. They called Fearne 'sweetheart'. Manprix, more like. OMG it's MANTRIXX not Mantrix. LOLZZ. There's an ugly one, an ugly one, an ugly one and a pasty one.
Dizzee doesn't look into it. Sharleen pulls a very strange face as she watches the acts, as if she's just heard one of her very own songs.
Ha, all the judges said no. Mantrixx sounds like a deodorant. Or a shaving gel.
Fearne is great for this show; her levels of transparent insincerity are about right.
Next is Pepper and Piano. Fearne is smiling. I'm not. Pepper's voice sounds like a cat getting shut in a car door when she goes for a high note. Fearne cried. Must have caught her cat in the car door earlier. Sob story! Fuck off.
Oh Fearne is telling us who the judges are again. Texas do have more than one song, apparently. Come back Cerys Matthews, all is forgiven (well, except that Mark Bannerman bullshit).
Now for some guy with purple hair and Emily Strange gloves on. Gotta love the goths. Bet he's from Northampton. Ooh it's 3 Inch nails! Trent Reznor called; he thinks you're a cunt. Dizzie: it was so crap I loved it. (Much as I feel about his music).
Next us is Daithi. He had good trainers. He's like a mini Patrick Wolf. He was kind of good, actually. He needs a vocalist. Aw, him and his girlfriend were cutey pies.
Last bit. Who are the judges again? Ah, thanks for telling me. I'm a cretin.
Ah, next up is Early to the Vineyard, a Christian band. Yes, they look like Christians (i.e. virgins). A lot of pent up aggression there. And some fine teeth. He's no closer to getting a girlfriend after that.
Patronised by Dizzie Rascal. There really is nowhere to go but down.
Oh Christ, a child playing a harp. That's enough for me.
This show was alright but it seemed to last 500 years. Even so, it was a thousand times better than Britain's Got Talent. And a tenth as good as X Factor. But of they replaced Dannii with Dizzie we could be talking.