6 Lessons learned from The X Factor (and similar shows)

So its finally happened. I have hit rock bottom. This Saturday night, in lieu of going out and socialising- financial constraints put that idea out the window- I stayed in and was subjected (I will insist to the end that I had absolutely no choice in the matter) to The X Factor. Then the Xtra factor.

And the worst part is, this isn’t even an isolated incident, it appears that my mother is already undergoing a hefty dose of senility, which means that she procures enjoyment from the X Factor’s flashing lights, the contestant’s flat tones and (somehow) Dermot O’Leary. If this continues, I may have to prematurely put her in a home. Not to for the sake of her sanity, but for the sake of mine.
And whilst on the subject of cruelly and callously taking advantage of the mentally ill in order to elicit a cheap laugh; 6 Lessons Learned from The X Factor (and similar shows)…


1: The Lesson: It doesn’t really matter how talented you are

Learned From: Chico

In a surprisingly large number of cases it seems that there is little connection between the talent of the singer and the round they eventually reach. Yes, in the early rounds the terrible singers generally go out, and the good singers mostly stay in.
However this isn’t always the case, more often than not the judges will put through someone who butchers the original melody of the song with excessive use of vibrato (which I suspect they imagine makes them sound like Christina Aguilera rather than a cat being run over by a variety of different sized vehicles) and this seems a trend that is likely to get worse with the new format featuring the public (who will clap anything approaching warbling) in the early stages.
It’s not just the Aguilera wannabes that get through to later rounds despite sounding terrible. If you’re capable of posing like Mick Jagger in the final of a musical statues competition with Michelangelo’s David, that should at least see you to a level of some success before the nation snaps to its senses.
Except for in the case of Chico, who even had time to release a number one single before people realised he couldn’t sing. Proving that the record buying public of the UK need a collective lobotomy. But more on that later.


2: The Lesson: There is a strong positive correlation between the number of relatives killed by cancer and singing ability. But this adversity also causes reverb.

Learned From: Roughly 3 or 4 contestants a week

It’s a fact of life that people love a tragic songbird. This is more or less the only possible reason to account for the popularity of Amy Winehouse. She could die at any time.
But so unquenchable is the thirst of Joe Public for tragic songbirds that Cowell and company deems it necessary to turn anyone who has undergone any struggle into a heart-rending story of some poor unfortunate’s conquering of hardship.
First comes the VT, in which they talk at great length about their deceased brother/mother/dog and how there is some tenuous link to their singing talent. Then they come on and sing. And they’re good. Really good.
Or so it seems, more often then not when they start singing they have huge cavernous voices. This is assisted by hefty amounts of reverb- something the awful contestants don’t typically tend to get. Some uplifting music plays in the background, and the audience is whipped up into a frenzy. And never so much than in the case of one Susan Boyle.


3: The Lesson: Ugly people cannot possibly have any other redeeming talents.

Learned From: Susan Boyle

Susan Boyle made headlines all over the world this year. In the 2009 Britain’s Got Talent, she got the full ‘uplifting music’ treatment, complete with VT showing how sad and miserable her pathetic life was, but mostly how inexpressibly hideous she was.
The audience was initially somewhere between apathetic and hostile, this horrendous looking woman had dared gatecrash their stage- reserved only for the beautiful people. Then she started singing, and the music began and everyone (quite literally in some cases, for this was quite clearly the single most significant televisual event ever to take place) completely lost their shit.
From this point it was like a fairy tale, it turned out that the grotesque ogre had a soul and a beautiful singing voice, Americans came across the channel to patronise her, like in this rather repulsive video of some bint from Good Morning America.

Hollywood wanted to make a film chronicling her depressing life, and charting her meteoric rise to fame. She seemed on the brink of international success. She was going to be bigger than John Lennon being bigger than Jesus. Then she had a breakdown, came second in the show and everyone started asking questions about the efficacy of the psychological tests applicants for talent shows undergo.


4: The Lesson: Deranged people are ok to laugh at if its packaged along with bright lights and VT demonstrating how good they think they are.

Learned From: 90% of contestants in the early rounds

The auditions in the early phases of the competition have some hilariously bad people singing. I’m not for a moment going to suggest that I’m above laughing at them. The Pope wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Even Ghandi would have trouble stifling a giggle.
Still, when I stop sniggering, I find myself feeling like a cog in a terrible machine which chews up, swallows, then violently projectile vomits over a 6 million strong crowd. Ok, not a great metaphor seeing as I’m both a cog and crowd member, but I feel like part of the blatant exploitation of some people who really don’t seem all there.
There was one contestant, a few years ago (I spent ages searching for this on youtube to no avail) that brought in a tape that they’d remixed of a John Lennon song. Then he sang (quite terribly, I might add) alongside it. At no point in this audition did I laugh.
As it went on, and the contestant said that he thought it meant that John Lennon would be able to release some more records, it felt increasingly like I was in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, watching Leatherface’s family insist that he was not a murderer, but a nice boy. It was like watching someone desperately clutching at the final vestiges of hope for a better life, then watching said remnants slip into an overflowing gutter, and missing by mere inches in an attempt to grab them before they are lost to a drain and oblivion. Basically it was really uncomfortable.
Then watching Cowell and whomever they had on the show pick him apart was worse still, this poor delusional guy was having his idea, which he’d clearly put an absurd amount of work into mercilessly torn asunder by some cackling idiots, whilst more cackling idiots watched on from the comfort of their homes.
Many contestants get riled up and lash out, or cry hysterically, but this guy seemed like he would go home on the bus in silence, microwave cook his final ready meal, write a hastily scribbled note to no one in particular making apologies if he causes a powercut, before taking his tape player into the bath.
This admittedly probably didn’t happen, but it still seems a little bit horrible to laugh at the dreams of others being crushed in such a way, particularly when some participants seem fairly unstable.


5: The Lesson: Water is a more effective form of revenge than, say, a fist to the face.

Learned From: Several contestants who we barely learn the name of.

It is indicative of the mental instability of X Factor contestants that the way they want to inflict revenge on the judges for not putting them through is to throw the judges’ water on them. Like this woman attempted to:

I was under the impression that having your dreams crushed in front of a national television audience, in a prime time slot on a Saturday night (and lets not forget youtube!) would probably warrant a little more than a mild inconveniencing, and in a worst case scenario, a dry cleaning bill.
I’m not saying it has to be a full on Kill Bill rip-roaring tale of revenge (although I’m all for that), but surely someone could at least threaten to kill Simon Cowell’s dog. and possibly follow through with it.

Unless they were expecting this to happen:

6: The Lesson: The record buying populace in the UK are idiots

Learned From: The last 4 year’s Christmas number ones

I shall forewarn you, this is the most depressing point on the list (which takes some doing). The fact is that people are largely aware of how exploitative the X Factor and similar shows are. They are aware of the fact that none of the acts apparently have any songwriting talent of their own and solely depend on covers in order to win over an audience who couldn’t possibly take hearing an original song. They are aware of how shamelessly manipulative the programme is. They are aware that phoning in and voting fuels Simon Cowell’s jet, in addition to his ego.
And yet, week in, week out they watch and they vote. And then, after buying their favourite star (or at least the star most favourably portrayed in the final edit) to pole position in the final, they go out and buy the single when its released at Christmas.
And then, having spent all this money and time on this person, they apparently completely forget about them- possibly passing comment when the follow up single reaches number 22 in the charts and little more- before getting hyped up come August the next year (or sooner it Britain’s Got Talent Is On). And it has happened. For the last 4 years. The last song to top the charts at Christmas that wasn’t performed by an X Factor contestant was Band Aid 20’s “Do they know its Christmas”.
Last Christmas, someone took a stand against this trend and attempted to get Jeff Buckley’s (far superior) version of Hallelujah to number one, instead of Alexandra Burke’s version (incidentally, both are covers of Leonard Cohen’s original). Unfortunately the idiots rallied and ensured that Burke’s version became the fastest selling single ever released by a woman in the UK. Meanwhile, Buckley’s came second, with 80,000 sales. Some 496,000 sales behind Burke’s.