Rigged TV and other Festive Frustrations

So Lou and I finally got round to watching the X-Factor final, my ultimate guilty pleasure, about three days after the event. Lou had found out the result thanks to her facebook friends and their status updates. None of my mates watch, I guess. That said, it was fairly obvious from the outset that Alexandra Burke was going to win.

"It's rigged!" we shouted as Simon listened intently

Now, although it is clear that Ms Burke is a very good singer, she's not the type of recording artist I would go out and buy. That said, the other two finalists were dire. Eoghan, the hedgehog-haired Hobbit, had rode the Irish vote about two rounds too far for my liking and the group of JLS had but one competent singer among them (not that this has held back many boy-bands in the past). So I was watching as a truly impartial observer.

Two years ago, Simon Cowell discovered the high pitched chanteuse that is Leona Lewis, and did all he could to assist her in winning. The reasoning was that she was the first act from this very British of talent shows he could market in America, the largest music industry in the world.

Leona, who comes from the "why sing one note when you can squeak 23 of them?" school, has no sound of her own, but is an extremely strong mimic of Maria, Whitney, et al. She was pitted in the final against a bright-eyed scouse midget, Ray, who was also a mimic, this time of big-band lounge singers from an era before he was born.

Simon's key weapon that year was the choice of the song the eventual winner would take to the inevitable number one spot. He picked "A Moment Like This" which had already been a recent hit in the US for another talent show winner, Kelly Clarkson. By making Ray sing a vocal so clearly written for a woman's voice, he hamstrung the likeable dwarf and made sure any floating voters picked his new golden goose.

Sure enough, Leona Lewis has made millions of American dollars with her generic diva tones. A recent breast cancer awareness charity single featuring her and a raft of other note riffers, when heard on the radio, illustrates the lack of individual character in the voices (with Natasha Beddingfield a notable exception).

Simon, obviously eager to repeat this success and also clearly aware that a lack of an original sound is not a hindrance, was backing Miss Burke in recent weeks, even above his own act. Would the final be a fair fight?

No. The acts have to perform in order and, due to the short attention span of the average reality TV audience, going last is a massive advantage. We are not privy to the ordering process, but I wasn't exactly shocked to see Alex take the final bow. Despite even the judges themselves admitting the advantage of position, when the acts where whittled down to the final two - Eoghan eventually bit the bullet after a dire repetition of one of his weakest songs - the order remained the same.

During the second round, the acts were all joined on stage by "special guests". First up were Louis Walsh's most famous export, BoyZone, who sang with plucky Eoghan. Far from backing the poor lad, lead singer Ronan Keating refused to be out-sung. It didn't look good for Frodo.

JLS were then apparently slated to sing with Take That, if the tabloids are to be believed. However, this may well have been waffle to excuse the fact that they were actually partnered by Louis Walsh's second greatest creation, Westlife.

Westlife seemed a bit more supportive but with eight, competent at best singers hacking away at the same note, it sounded more like a terrace chant than a rousing anthem. Then it was Alex's turn.

"I wonder which multi-platinum world famous recording star they'll pair up the favourite with," I joked to Lou.

Then out popped Beyonce.

Alexandra spent most of the time crying while Ms Knowles belted out a song from her film "Dream Girls". I was the only one to notice that it put the limit of the North London girl's talents into clear focus. Everyone started to text vote for Beyonce.

So, even without the judges’ comments - including Simon acting startled as he went to introduce his own act and saying, "I'm still trying to get over how good Alex just was!" - the ball was rolling hard in Alexandra's direction.

The song they had chosen to sing for the inevitable Christmas Number one was Leonard Cohen's Old Testament-referencing ballad on the finite nature of life, "Hallelujah". I was depressed to see another beautiful thing (and of course the memory of Jeff Buckley's haunting and definitive version) snatched by the mainstream and raped. The cheery spin both acts put onto a song they clearly had never heard before, let alone considered the content of, depressed me beyond the reach of valium. Yet there it was, Alex Burke doing a predictable "big finish" and crying her eyes out. I doubt it was that she was aware of how many more deeply talented musicians and songwriters she was about to leapfrog over.

The question I have to ask is, why do I enjoy watching this show? Is it for the same reason that I enjoy reading the Daily Mail, or listening to supposed experts warn about "global warming"? That I like to rail against the absurdity? Well, there is a little of that, along with the schadenfreude of watching the delusional auditionees. But at the same time there is genuine talent in the UK. I witnessed in this series some original voices; Laura, Ruth and Diana. They are all probably better off being able to find representation away from Simon Cowell and his formulaic money hunting, as Will Young has done. For me, regardless of what musical genre they perform in, a real talent is one who is identifiable as soon as they start to sing. Mr Young, who won the very first incarnation of the ITV talent show - Pop Idol, has this. So do the huge recording artists of our time, like George Michael, Elton John, and more recently Amy Winehouse.

But that's not where the X Factor lives and so I don't expect any winner's album to be on my Christmas present list any time soon. That said, I am going to buy the music from the best performer on the show all series.

The evergreen Take That.

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Well, it's that time of year again and sadly, I find myself having to stay in the less than festive city of Dubai. Worse though is the fact that Lou has gone home to see her family including our new niece, Jinnie. However, I'd like to take this opportunity to with you all a happy Christmas/holidays and a spectacular New Year. Thanks for reading.

Rick