Hello. Do you remember when you watched The X Factor final yesterday? Well, by an astonishing coincidence, so did we. And crikey, wasn’t it just totally and definitely and absolutely unequivocally passable? Yeah. Take that, H8ERS.
*Dermot tongue roll* ALRIIIIGHT. It was in two halves, like the bloody brilliant darling that it is. Is it possible to be too entertained? The answer is of course c) Kaposi’s sarcoma.
Nonetheless, yes they absolutely poured out a grand total of FOUR. HOURS. That’s like an hour and twenty minutes per finalist. How many times can we hear Marcus say, “I used to be a hairdresser, and now I’m a singer a bit.” over and over in varying incorporations? Obviously, once you chop out all the adverts that’s only about twelve minutes or so though, obviously. No bigz. So then. We love adverts. They really really make us want to buy produce via an amusing or creative short film piece. Our favourite advert of course is the one where the little boy can’t wait to give his parents a Christmas present, and how it really really made us want to buy padlocks for our doors. Oh alright, “The X Factor” then. Here’s loads of wank about it, in two sections.
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JLS fans haven’t been very kind to us of late. Apparently they don’t like the fact that we inferred that their favourite band mimed some bad words and threw one of those showbiz hissy fit things at T4 On The Beach, which they TOTALLY did.
Naturally being the reasonable and thoughtful people we are, we thought we’d take another shot at them.
This time over the fact they’ve admitted they can’t sing. Read More >>>
It’s been a weekend full of festivals with nearly every performer you can think of out to plug any old tat they’ve got coming out soon. Up in Scotland, a mix of indie, rock and electronica could be found, although annoyances like Bruno Mars still managed to evade security and get on stage at T in the Park, while at Sonisphere, they had angry music fans happy with bands that haven’t progressed from early eighties hair metal.
But the pick of the bunch was down at the sick seagull of Britain – Weston-super-Mare – where the family friendly festival T4 On The Beach was happening! While it was broadcast on Channel 4 and hosted by a gang of hipsters who all deserve to be shot, it was the sort of day where parents of small children could drop them off, safe in the knowledge they wouldn’t be snorting lines of speed. Last year, one of music’s answers to satire, Jedward, broke an ankle.
This year, JLS threw a slight hissy fit and pulled out of the event. It’s almost like the end of the world has just happened. So what pissed off JLS then?
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Preening, chemically enhanced music “supremo” Louis Walsh has spoken out about his decision to step down as Boyzone’s manager, something that we didn’t even know had happened. Walsh, the man responsible for making the skin of young boys everywhere crawl to the point where it attempts to tear itself from the body of its host and choke itself.
Earlier this month, reports emerged that Walsh had ditched the boyband because of disappointing ticket sales, brought about by the death of pop music, something that he is at least partly responsible for. The poor man’s Simon Cowell is said to believe that he missed a trick by refusing to manage Take That because he didn’t fancy Mark Owen enough to take the job.
Add to this lead singer Ronan Keating’s recent revelation that he likes to put his knob about a bit and you have yourself a self-righteous, pompous TV personality trying to get himself some more personality by strategically dropping a relatively unpopular band that are still well-known at the beginning of the downward slope of their singing careers.
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JLS have shown that you don’t have to be winners in order to achieve your dream of singing second rate R&B songs whilst posing with overpriced cars and women who are out of their league.
JLS are, in fairness to them, weirdly popular despite having one of the worst band names in history – they would have been more credible to us if they were called something like London Ghetto Bad Boyz. Bands that don’t use proper words are usually rubbish, just look at U2.
Hailing from the world of X-Factor, JLS have an easy market to manipulate when it comes to releasing merchandise. They release more than just music with all sorts of tat having their name attached to it. From bear traps to lunchboxes, it’ll be somewhere on the internet to buy. Hot on the heels of midget singer Justin Bieber, the JLS boys are set to bring out their own film which is set to feature run of the mill boring material that wouldn’t offend the most PC of people.
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Despite holding a genuine old person bus pass, smelling of wee and forgetting where he puts his slippers on a regular basis, Cliff Richard has somehow topped the charts again. No, honest.
He’s become the number one bestseller in the hotly contested ‘battle of who can sell the most overpriced calendar to people you don’t really like enough to buy a proper present for, but y’know, it’ll do, it’s almost Christmas and you want to go and get smashed on eggnog and crap homemade mulled wine’ chart.
Weird, right? You’d have thought all of his fans were dead by now.
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hecklerspray is not anti-pop by any stretch of the imagination, but it is completely fair to say that we just don’t understand the appeal of JLS. Maybe it’s because they’ve invented a new type of soul music that can only be described as Aww ‘n’ B, leaving people wanting to mother their wholesome little faces.
The cutesy foursome of Aston Merrygold, Oritse Williams, Marvin Humes and Jonathan Gill are doing alright for themselves and last night, managed to win Best Album and the Best UK Act at the MOBO awards.
Yes, it’s MOBO time again, where people take an interest while others tut and mutter “How would they like it if we had a music for white people, eh?” ‘They’, of course, being an imagined enemy. And of course, there is a music for white artists. It’s called The Q Awards. Read More >>>
The Mobo Awards is imminent again, leaving thought-void simpletons to once again muse on the fact that all music is of ‘black origin’ or, worse, complaining about the whole thing because ‘people would go mad if there was a white-only awards ceremony!’ Suck it up, gimps.
Anyway, the Mobos have announced who is in with a chance of winning an award and, bafflingly, this year seems to belong to the distinctly average Tinie Tempah who has bagged himself four nominations for this year’s show.
So who else is in with a shot at landing a trophy that may well end up in the downstairs toilet?
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