Wednesday, 25 December 2013

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. 

1 comment:

Ossian said...

Didn't see it this year. Couldn't watch any of those things you described unless I was paid serious money to do so and even then I would hate myself after. They should put on best of Later in its place.