Simon Cowell has made stars of boybands, Chico, Susan Boyle and a variety of completely forgettable singers like Steve Brookstein, Leon Thingy and DooDah Sneddon. Possibly. We’re get all those talent shows confused these days.

So what’s his next move? Well, apart from publicly wooing Cheryl Cole again (presumably Kelly Rowland can’t be bothered saying ‘boo’/sitting next to the bizarre Tulisa on the X Factor next year), he’s decided he’s going to make a talent show about DJs.

Seriously. While this may pique the interest of some, there’s little chance it could work in a primetime format… surely?

The music vampire-cum-mogul is launching a new talent competition to find the world’s best DJs.

Cowell says:

“DJ’s are the new rock stars, it feels like the right time to make this show”

So what kind of thing will the DJs be doing, to showcase how brilliant they are? Of course, the best DJs show off their skills  over a series of hours when they promote then play a set for a dancefloor filled with people. Will the show be around 40 hours long while a variety of DJs try and make a crowd go nutso?

Of course, the most notorious way for a DJ to show-off is to scratch. For those that don’t know, there’s a variety of ways to approach scratching. There’s the usual thd-dghgdggy-thd stuff, as well as the infamous wiki-wiki-frrssshh scratch. But that wouldn’t make much of a show.

There’s more showy people out there who can do things like this…

Or beat juggle like this…

In which case, if that’s what Cowell is going for, then he’s trying to reinvent the DMC Championships which, as brilliant as it is, isn’t going to be winning over any primetime mums and nanas any time soon, is it?

Away from that, Cowell wants Cheryl Cole back in his loving, tender, televisual embrace. When asked whether Cheryl could potentially return to the ITV1 programme, he said:

“She could be a panellist again if she wanted to – 100 per cent. I don’t know if she would. I think she probably misses me.”

Whatever. She’s off washing her hair for money. We’re more interested in what Cowell plans to do for DJing. Will we see a good-looking DJ getting off a stool for the key-change?

Oh god. Cowell is thinking of DJ Talent isn’t he?

Sarah Harding, or the blonde one from Girls Aloud, has spent the last wee while in rehab. Did you know that?

No, neither did we.

Is it that no-one told us or simply that the admission of a celebrity to rehab has become so commonplace that we now spend more time focussing on what Daniel O’Donnell’s up to. He’s nice. Grans like Daniel O’Donnell.

Sarah Harding doesn’t though. She thinks he’s boring and once interrupted a West

London club night to go on a forty-five minute tirade about how he was “dull” and that he should give her all of his doubloons. Yes, Ms. Harding had well and truly lost her shit.

After splitting from DJ boyfriend Tom Crane the Girls Aloud star seemed to hit rock bottom and with her angry tirade against “clean-cut bastard” O’Donnell, those closest to her told her that she should probably check into rehab before she was burned at the stake by a procession of furious Grandmothers.

Last week reports claimed that Harding and Crane (not a Law Firm) had decided to have another go at resurrecting their relationship, with Crane (a big O’Donnell fan) said to have forgiven Harding for her furious outbursts.

A friend, or someone from her PR company, told the Sunday Mirror:

“They’ve been in regular contact throughout her time away but only on the phone. They’ve spoken most days and it seems like they could have a chance of giving it another shot. She still loves Tommy… she’s just not sure if things can get back to where they were.”

Isn’t that nice? Harding will be back in the UK to celebrate her 30th birthday and it is thought that her loving family have bought her a private show with the Irish singer. Lucky, lucky girl.

Follow hecklerspray on Twitter or face dire consequences or ‘Like’ us on Facebook or BUY ONE OF OUR T-SHIRTS OR WE’LL KILL EVERYONE YOU LOVE… & your little dog too!

THE BIG DOG IS IN THE HOUSE! 6 words that, when you hear them on the radio, let you know that it’s time to change the station, because the whitest man in history, Tim Westwood, is about to start broadcasting.

It’s fairly safe to say we all hate Westwood, after all what is there to love about a man who looks like a geography teacher painfully trying to hard to appear ‘street’ to keep his pupils interested?

But none of us seem to hate Westwood quite as much as Mark Bulcock.

Mr. Bulcock is currently in court for sending a series of threatening texts to the 53 year old DJ. A man Bulcock claims he, “admires.”

We can’t really blame Bulcock for sending abusive texts to Westwood, if any of us were forced to listen to a man over half a century old telling us how ‘fly’ that latest ‘snoop joint’ was then we’d probably just start sending torrents of abuse to him too.

However, this isn’t exactly the worst thing Westwood has had to put up with in his life. There was the time he got shot and the time he had to host Pimp My Ride UK, both of which were equally painful. Admittedly though, the latter was only painful to everyone else besides Westwood.

Whilst the Big Dog continues to occupy the house it doesn’t appear as if he’ll be dominating the court (the actual court, not the basketball court) with his mad lyrical skillz anytime soon. However, Bulcock will be back in the courthouse next month to be sentenced.

With Bulcock safely under lock and key we can all rest assured that Tim Westwood will live to offend our ears another day.

It’d be nice if, just once, the big dog would actually just stay in the house.

Follow hecklerspray on Twitter or join our Facebook group or BUY ONE OF OUR STUPID T-SHIRTS!

The year is 2011AD and no-one has quite managed to work out what the point of Fearne Cotton is. Even her BBC bosses think she’s useless, but they persist in hiring her under the misguided notion that she appeals to Ver Yoof of Britain.

Even they hate her.

Still, at least Fearne has someone to go home to who will hold her and love her when all around are loudly booing and hissing at her, right? Wrong. That’s because she’s now as single as can be after it was announced that she’s split from her fiancé Jesse Jenkins. Presumably, he’s only just started to hear what people have actually been saying about his entirely hopeless ex.

That’s right. Fearne – who has all the personality of a blown light bulb – is no longer to be married, which is sad for her as she wouldn’t shut up about it around the time of the Royal Wedding, a ginormous event that was mystifyingly covered by the presenter with her flickerless, corpse eyes.

She met Jesse in 2008 while someone was daft enough to pay for Cotton to film in the US and, last year, they decided to get engaged. We assume that Jenkins went down on one knee and stared expectantly at Cotton for roughly 8 hours before the Radio One DJ finally stopped saying “classic” and “legend”, and realised what was going on before saying “Oh! I’ve seen this in films! What do I say?”

Eventually, after lengthy discussions, Jesse convinced her to get engaged to him, leaving Fearne to roam the Earth constantly reminding everyone that absolutely everything was “legendary”, including her woeful investigative journalism shows where she met luminaries such as Peaches Geldof.

Sadly, this break-up seems to be a rather clean one.

A spokesperson said:

“Sadly their relationship came to a mutual end last month. There is no-one else involved.”

Alas, that isn’t true. There was someone involved. Fearne Cotton was involved. And like all things involving Fearne Cotton, it was destined to result in disappointment.

Still, at least she can now focus on being a thing that barely occupies a pair of wellington boots over the TV coverage of the festival season.

Follow hecklerspray on Twitter or join our Facebook group or BUY ONE OF OUR STUPID T-SHIRTS!

On their debut album Pablo Honey, Radiohead have a track entitled, Anyone Can Play Guitar. Was it an ironic statement? Possibly, anyone can technically pick up said instrument and strum away, but it takes a slight bit of skill in order to actually craft and perfect some sort of pop song.

A decade or so later, their prophecy came true with the launch of Guitar Hero, a soul destroying button bashing music based game.

But that is only a game and if anything it encouraged more people to pick an instrument and learn to play songs for themselves. The opposite has seemingly happened in the world of DJing, partly due to the way music and technology has evolved. Instead of lugging a box of vinyl records around and breaking your back, this can be now be condensed via, CD, iPod and laptop. Using our vague experience, we’ll attempt to work out which is best, if any.

For musical purists, the original and best will always be slabs of vinyl. The pride and joy of music collectors across the land, some of these discs have sold for daft amounts due to original pressings, availability in promo quantities or because the Japanese version has a b-side version of the same song with an extra fifteen seconds of audio.

There is nothing more authentic than seeing someone DJing with vinyl. You know that the sounds you’re hearing haven’t been manipulated and the person behind the turntables is playing songs based on the crowd’s mood and response. A premixed CD can’t do that.

However, if you bring seventy records for a long night of DJ’ing you are restricted to what can and be can’t played. If a punter asks for a certain record and you haven’t got it, it’s usually best to lie and say you have, ignore their request and then tell them it was played if they come back and hassle you.

Tell them they were at the toilet or something when you “dropped it”.

One major headache when using vinyl is lugging it around. It isn’t light and if some moron drops a drink on it or damages the sleeve, replacing it can be a timely and costly measure, just look at the overinflated prices on discogs.com.

So what’s the alternative? Why if it isn’t the humble CD, the format that made it much easier for you to work around and listen to music in public and annoy people on the bus. With the CD, you can in theory burn tracks as soon as available on file sharing networks, weeks before release, giving the impression you’re one of the elite few who gets sent stuff before anyone else because you’re special.

Of course the benefit of using CD means you can shove everything in a bag, not break your back and play a wider variety of songs. But the cynical side of us always come in to doubt when we see someone parading around with a bucket load of CD’s. Whilst CD turntables are available and do the same as there vinyl counterparts, you always have to question how much of it is actually live.

Tiny village pubs will always employ a nerdy looking kid who only got the job due to knowing the owner. Can he really mix the Red Hot Chilli Peppers into Aphex Twin? Or has someone else already it for him, he’s just pretending to twiddle some knobs with one headphone and not really being the superstar DJ you he wants people to believe.

But then again we appreciate that people might not want to spend time and money sourcing vinyl records from the nineties for DJ sets now. In that respect, CDs are the way forward and we can see both the positive and negatives. Both mediums do require skill in order to do a decent job, it’s just when using laptops and iPods do we become worried.

An iPod can hold a daft amount of music and in theory could cater for any style of requirement. Be it a rave in a darkened warehouse or some indie lover’s birthday party in a rented function room. If a CDJ had the ability to forge their own ability, laptops can do everything for you.

All sorts of software is out there that lets the computer match up beats and do all the complicated work for you. Granted you still have to select the tracks, but that’s kind of like us ordering a meal from the local Chinese, scooping out the contents and serving it up as our own creation.

We’ll always prefer vinyl as, when people visit you, endless hours can be spent mocking sleeve art and many an hour has been lost when browsing the racks of record stores. The use of CD’s make it easier but in that respect it lets fucknuts like Peaches Geldof give the delusional thought they are “proper” DJ’s when all they do is fuck around with the pitch and EQ.

Anyone using a laptop (usually an Apple branded one) is worse than Justin Bieber.

Follow hecklerspray on Twitter or join our Facebook group or BUY ONE OF OUR STUPID T-SHIRTS!

A supermodel taking drugs isn't a massive surprise to anyone, less so when a supermodel takes drugs at a rave – but a supermodel's rave-based drug-taking behaviour shocking a DJ? That hardly sounds right at all.

But it seems to be the case anyway. Two years after Kate Moss was hounded out of most of her modelling contracts following a picture of her possibly taking some drugs, it's been claimed by a DJ that she's at it again. Elliot Eastwick was the DJ at a recent party to celebrate Davinia Taylor's 30th birthday, and he claims that throughout the party Kate Moss kept screaming things like "I want some gear!" "Get me some gear!" and "Who's got the drugs?" – statements that seem innocuous enough to the average listener, but are all thought to be carefully-coded underworld slang-phrases that can only be understood by other drug-addicts which may or may not detail Kate Moss' desire to take some drugs. 

Kate Moss is getting it from all sides at the moment. While the rest of her life should spent in a state of constant bliss because she doesn't have to wake up and see Pete Doherty's puffy, scab-covered old lady's face every morning, it seems like people are lining up to take the shine off Kate Moss' day.

First Kate Moss' eyelashes got reprimanded for being unnaturally telescopic, then all of St John's Wood ganged up to tell the world what a crummy neighbour Kate Moss is – and now a DJ has decided to tell the press about a bunch of drug-taking antics he claims to have seen Kate Moss get up to recently.

Apparently Elliot Eastwick, who was the DJ at bog-roll heiress Davinia Taylor's recent 30th birthday, saw Kate Moss get up to so much shocking drug-based behaviour that he had no choice but to tell whichever newspaper would buy his story for the most money. Highlights of Eastwick's interview include:

"She was a total nightmare. It was obvious she was on drugs. I've seen enough drugged-up people to know."

"Kate pulled some poppers out of her handbag and started snorting them in really heavily. It went straight to her head. You could see her loll as it took effect."

"She grabbed my lower arm, pulled me towards her and yelled, 'Who's got the drugs?' I told her I didn't know and I didn't have any, but she said, 'I want some gear. Get me some gear. You're a DJ, you must have some'. She was tapping on a record sleeve in the motion of someone racking up lines of coke. It was obvious what she was after."

If any of this is true – and at the moment the only evidence around is the word of a DJ we've never heard of – then Kate Moss should really know better. It was just two years ago that her career was almost ended by a grainy photograph of her seeming to snort up drugs, and for new allegations to come out so soon after she's managed to haul her career upright again smacks of either irresponsibility, deep stupidity or both. Because of one alleged moment of madness, Kate Moss risks losing everything – and for good this time.

On the plus side, if this happened it'd mean we wouldn't have to hear Kate Moss mimble "Get the London look" like some sort of pikey fieldmouse every 15 minutes in her useless Rimmel adverts. In fact, we'd probably crawl through her window and plant drugs in all her clothes if we knew it'd mean she'd stop making those bloody things.