Pop Justice At Its Best

I know it's a bit late but how tragically funny was Sunday's Totally Boyband with the knowledge that their debut single "The One" had only managed to reach #35 in the charts.

Whether it was Dane Bowers putting money on at the bookies for the single to reach #1, Dane Bowers claiming they were better than Girls Aloud or Dane Bowers claiming there's no way they wouldn't reach the top ten, every single person, particularly Dane Bowers, displayed a whopping amount of delusion, egotism and complete lack of self-awareness.

You would actually feel sorry for the band if they hadn't acted like complete arseholes throughout the series. Ditching Lee Latchford Evans for being talentless, when you had the likes of Jimmy from 911 and Danny Wood from NKOTB, was a staggeringly arrogant move. How he must be gloating now.

The whole thing was doomed from the start. It might have worked had they chosen members from 5ive, A1, V etc, people who were still the right side of 30 but to choose members of such varying ages, they looked ridiculous and incompatible from the moment they met at the press conference. They've also managed to do the impossible and make Lisa Scott-Lee look successful.

Heartbreaking

I've only ever cried at two programmes/films, the Eastenders episode where Ethel died and more embarrassingly, Macauley Culkin's rather traumatic bee-sting death in My Girl (I was only ten at the time.) But last night's excellent Royle Family one-off special almost made it three.

It may have been obvious from the first five minutes that Nana would end up carking it but the superb performances and poignant script meant it didn't make it any less upsetting when it finally happened. The scenes where Nana told Barbara she was glad she wasn't in a home, where Barbara thought she had died in her bed, and where all her family kissed Nana goodbye in hospital were both beautifully written and heartbreaking at the same time. Both Liz Smith and Sue Johnston deserve BAFTA nominations next year.

It felt like more of a drama than a comedy but there were still flashes of the usual brilliant Royle Family humour, Jim ranting about "gays on television", Cheryl's hilarious lonely hearts dates, Denise wanting to palm off her son to watch Jeremy Kyle episodes she'd Sky +d.

It wasn't without its faults. The first ten minutes turned Jim into an overblown caricature, bellowing out Alf-Garnett style about the lack of remote control batteries and calling Anthony selfish even though he'd just lent £50. There were also several scenes which were blatant re-enactments of scenes in previous episodes, e.g. the dancing while laminating the floor was a contrived attempt at another Mambo #5 moment and Joe singing at the funeral was just a little too corny second time around.

But they were just little niggles. Overall, it showed Only Fools & Horses how to do a comeback special and was a fitting finale to what is one of the most innovative, funny and well-written sitcoms of the last ten years.

This Week's Singles

Despite it having the kind of Lily Allen sound that Radio 1 would usually overkill, Alesha’s second superb single in a row, Knockdown, (****) will be lucky to chart top 20. She has the potential to be a great pop star so it’s baffling why everyone seems to be ignoring her.

Nobody’s paying much attention to Moby either these days which is a shame as I’ve enjoyed his post-Play singles far more probably because they’re not being played on every single TV show and advert. The Debbie Harry featuring "New York New York" is a rather straight-forward pop-dance song more reminiscent of his earlier work. Great video as well.

Basement Jaxx get the Single of the Week with easily their barmiest record yet. "Take Me Back To Your House" (****) is a melting pot of acoustic dance, Russian accordians, banjos and a chorus featuring vocals which bizarrely sound like the underpant-stealing gnomes in South Park.

There's more dance with "Yeah Yeah",(***) a possible contender for #1 from Bodyrox featuring a rather snarling punk-like vocal from Luciana, Cass Fox's "Touch Me," (**) a pointless retread of the #1 Rui Da Silva song she guested on just five years ago and "Runaway," (**) a very disappointing new single from Jamiroquai. They've had some great singles over the years but this isn't one of them. It may have their trademark disco-funk sound but it seems to have forgotten to actually add a chorus.

Can anybody else distinguish between the utterly moronic The Game and his other equally moronic counterparts Lloyd Banks, Obie Trice etc etc, “It’s Okay” (no stars) is more pathetic macho hip-hop with nothing memorable about it.

Elsewhere, after a rather good last two singles, “Nothing In My Way”(**) retreats to exactly what you expect from a Keane record. It’s safe, bland and sounds like a Coldplay tribute band. Simon Webbe continues to be the one-man Lighthouse Family on "Coming Around Again", (*) a lifeless attempt at acoustic soul and Plan B gets angry on the ridiculously over-the-top homage to Rage Against The Machine, “No More Eatin,”(*)

What A F****** Liberty

BBC2 really are on a roll when it comes to homegrown comedy lately. After last week's double bill of Extras and That Mitchell & Webb Look came to an end, Thursday nights are now home to another similar line up of sketch shows, non-traditional sitcoms and panel shows.

First up, the third series for Catherine Tate, a woman who a lot of people seem to find completely unamusing, but in my opinion is one of the best comic actresses the UK has at the moment.

The Nan, one of the best comic creations this decade, is still the standout, and indeed, should have her own sitcom altogether. But the new sketches such as the tough Irish woman delighted to have a gay son and the woman who stood in for people at the last minute were also promising.

It's still a bit patchy, the charity fundraiser for Battered Husbands was a bit pointless and schoolgirl Lauren is getting a little tired now. But it's more consistent than Mitchell & Webb, less predictable than Little Britain and far funnier than anything French & Saunders have done in the last five years.

Jack Dee's new sitcom Lead Balloon, already shown on BBC4, was on straight after. It's one of those shows where not much happens and there's not really anything to make you laugh out loud but there is enough to make you smile from time to time. The Russian housekeeper gets most of the best lines and Dee, basically playing himself, is as depressingly charming as ever . However, the awful incidental jazz music needs to go.

Unfortunately my Sky+ failed to tape Never Mind The Buzzcocks but Simon Amstell was genius on the much-missed original Popworld and was quite good when he stood in for Mark Lamarr earlier this year. So hopefully he'll give it the kick up the arse it needs after it stopped being funny in about 1998.

Offensive, Crude, Hilarious

At last, a comedy that lives up to its hype. Ali G may have outstayed his welcome by the time he made the leap to the big screen but Borat, Sacha Baron Cohen's other creation, is far funnier on celluloid than he ever was on TV.

It may be crude. It may use cheap gags. It may be completely offensive to every single minority group there is. But Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, to give it its full title, is hilarious from start to finish.

The film centres around Borat being sent to New York to make a programme about the American way of life for a Kazakhstan TV channel. After watching a Baywatch episode in his hotel room, he suddenly falls in love with Pamela Anderson and decides to travel to California instead, to track her down and then propose.

Unlike the Ali G film, Borat interacts with real people and it's their bewildered reactions to him which provides the most laughter. The formal dinner party scene, where Borat insults the host's wife, invites a prostitute as his guest and brings something to the dinner table you never want to see, is worth the ticket price alone.

As is his brief dalliance with scary Christian evangelists, his horror at discovering he's staying at a B&B run by Jewish people and the homage to Oliver Reed and Alan Bates' naked wrestling in Women In Love, where Borat grapples with his overweight companion, Bagatov, which is both disturbing and the most achingly funny thing you'll see all year.

The humour may not be subtle, but that doesn't mean it's not clever and there are several occasions when it exposes America's blatant sexism, homophobia and racism. Witness how three moronic fratboys describe women or how one rodeo organiser saying he'd like to see all gay people executed.

Perhaps surprisingly, given the Academy Awards' usual disregard for anything comedic, there are whispers of Cohen being nominated for an Oscar. And it would be totally deserved.

This is as far removed from the cliched predictability of his first movie, and at just 90 mins long, it manages the rare thing of leaving you wanting more.

This Week's Singles

At last, a decent week for new releases with a five-way battle for the #1.

Most likely to get it is McFly, who seem to sail to the top spot with ease, no matter what formulaic 60s inspired guitar pop they release. "Star Girl" (**) has a good DIY video and is pleasant enough but they’re three albums in now. Surely it’s time to change their sound just a little bit.

It’s kind of strange that “Something Kinda Oooh” (****) is the single to resurrect Girls Aloud’s chart fortunes (they’ve become the first British act to chart inside the top ten on downloads alone) when it’s basically “Wake Me Up” part 2. Unlike McFly, they’ve got more inventive with each album so it’s a shame that this is the lead off single from a premature Greatest Hits rather than a new studio album.

Fedde Le Grand’s “Put Your Hands Up For Detroit” (*) is another one of those Benny Benazzi sounding records which seems to have no musical merit whatsoever and yet could be the biggest hit out of the lot. Radio 1 have got a lot to answer for.

It’s a shame that Amy Winehouse feels she needs to get pissed on The Charlotte Church Show in order to get noticed because the appropriately titled “Rehab,” (***) an authentic slice of Ronettes-style Motown speaks for itself. She’s never even reached the Top 40 before but this has already gone top 20 on downloads alone.

Beyonce’s awfully titled “B’Day” album has sunk faster than a lead balloon in the UK but the Gabrielle-ish acoustic “Irreplaceable” (****) might just be enough to resurrect its fortunes. It’s her best single since “Crazy In Love” and its simplistic charm makes it the Single of the Week.

Cassie, yet another US R&B diva, has been compared to Aaliyah but I’ve no idea why as she has none of the warmth or versatility, and her last single had probably the most monotonous vocal delivery I’ve ever heard. It’s more of the same on “Long Way To Go” (**) but the minimal futuristic production almost saves it.

The Kooks frontman Luke Pritchard recently said the UK needs a band like them at the moment. Erm..no we don’t. “Oooh La La” (**)is pretty much the same as all their previous singles. Inoffensive radio-friendly guitar pop but nothing we haven’t heard a million times before.

The Magic Numbers are back with more of the same upbeat Mamas and the Papas-style harmonies on “Take A Chance.” (***) Like the Scissor Sisters, it still sounds fresh enough for now but they’re going to have to do better for album #3.

Panic At The Disco’s “I Write Sins Not Tragedies” (****) has been around for ages but will hopefully get a better chart position second time around. It’s completely over-the-top but unlike most other dreadful emo bands, it has a sense of fun and they don’t seem to take themselves too seriously. It’s a travesty that this will probably miss the top 20 when the likes of My Chemical Romance are at #1.

Rihanna’s superb “SOS” was definitely a bit of a red-herring as instead of more electro-pop, we’ve had the turgid “Unfaithful” ballad and now “We Ride,” (**) a completely forgettable R&B dirge that have could been released any time in the last decade.

Seth Lakeman has managed to bring folk to the masses, albeit in a slightly more watered down version than his Mercury Music Prize nominated debut, with his second album Freedom Fields. "The White Hare" (****) is a lovely ballad but slightly veering into dangerous James Blunt territory.

Upper Street really do seem to be up their own arses on Totally Boyband and kicking Lee out for being talentless when they have Jimmy from 911 and Danny from NKOTB seems a little hypocritical. But their debut single “The One” (***) is much better than it ought to be thanks to its squelchy bassline and rather good chorus. I can’t see it doing much better than Lisa Scott Lee’s single though.

Extra Smug

The Office stopped after two series. After seeing Thursday's finale, maybe Ricky Gervais’ Extras should have stopped after the first.

It started off so brightly as well. The opener, starring a racist Keith Chegwin and an egotistical Orlando Bloom was hilarious from start to finish and crammed more laugh out loud moments into one episode than most comedies manage in a series. The Lenny Henry gag, the catchphrase T-shirt wearing front row studio audience, the on-set handyman turning down Maggie etc.

But since then, each episode has worsened in quality, the celebrity cameos have become predictable and the storylines have become completely far-fetched. For example, Andy’s sitcom was supposed to be a critical disaster, watched by just a few million. Yet he seemed to become a celebrity on a Posh and Becks scale. Everyone recognised him, anything he did was front page news, he was invited onto chat shows and he received a BAFTA nomination, all this while his show hadn’t even finished filming.

Giving more screentime to Barry and his completely hopeless agent was an inspired move but sidelining Maggie, the most likeable character from the first series, to basically the village idiot was a mistake. She landed Andy in it so many times you started to wonder whether she was deliberately trying to sabotage her friend’s rise to stardom.

There were still a few classic moments, David Bowie’s “Chubby Little Loser” song, Chris Martin’s shameless plugs, the “Are You Having A Laugh” doll interrupting the BAFTAs, but on the whole, the series was just a little too knowing and a little too smug.

That Mitchell And Webb Look also finished its six-part run last night, and on the whole, was just as patchy.

It had its moments of brilliance - Numberwang, the piss-takes of hospital dramas and lifestyle shows, the Green Clarinet sketch etc. But it also seemed to think it was far more clever than it actually was and several sketches waffled on with no point and no punchline.

And for a show that seemed to pride itself on having very few recurring characters, why they chose the terminally dull snooker commentators to appear at least three times every episode is beyond me. It was watchable but I’d rather have a new series of Peep Show next time.

Not As Bad As You'd Expect

It's being labelled commercial suicide by most reviewers, but after hearing the whole of Rudebox, Robbie Williams' new album, I, through gritted teeth, have to admit it's not that bad.

And I'm not exactly his greatest fan. I didn't mind him in Take That, I even bought the quite good first two albums. But ever since, his albums have gone blander and blander while selling more and more, and there isn't a week goes by that he isn't in the papers moaning about how "troubled he is." He almost gives Kerry Katona a run for her money in the "woe is me" stakes.

So even though I won't be shedding any tears if Rudebox spectacularly flops, I'd much rather him sell millions of albums with this rather bold new direction than him sell millions of albums with the MOR serious singer-songwriter rubbish that he did with on his last album.

The first thing you notice about Rudebox, is that for a supposedly "dance" album, there's not that much dance music on it. You're not going to find any tracks appearing on the next Ministry of Sound compilation that's for sure. And several tracks, the country tinged "Viva Life On Mars" and the uplifting "Summertime" wouldn't sound out of place on any his previous albums.

When he does venture into dance territory, it's with mixed results. "Kiss Me" is horribly dated europop, reminiscent of doomed 90s boyband 2 Third3, "Louise" is a pointless Human League cover and "Burslem Normals" is a forgettable attempt at chillout.

But it works better on one of two Pet Shop Boys collaborations, "She's Madonna," a quite lovely mid-tempo number, the retro-electro pop of "Never Touch The Switch" and "The Actor", a quite bizarre Royksopp-influenced duet which namechecks Judi Dench.

The standout track however is the next single, Lovelight, one of four covers on the album, which is the kind of soul-pop record that George Michael did so well in the 90s. It's the best thing he's done since "Feel" and might just be good enough to re-convert the fans he lost after the opinion-dividing "Rudebox."

Overall, it's a very bizarre album which is plagued by appalling attempts at rap and too many covers. But it does have its moments and it's going to be interesting to see whether Take That's new album will end up selling more this Christmas.

This week's singles

The Ordinary Boys may have lost a bit of credibility thanks to Preston’s Big Brother appearance but who cares when they’re releasing songs as consistently good as their last three singles. “Lonely At The Top.” (****) sees them go back to pilfering 80s ska after their dalliance with chav-rap on “9 to 5” and despite some rather dodgy self-pitying lyrics, it’s the only contender for the Single of the Week.

Rogue Traders Natalie Bassingthwaite may be quite the mesmerising performer, but she can’t save “Watching You” (**) from being a rather weak rehash of their last single. Girls Aloud did the whole “My Sharona” sound so much better.

James Morrison’s “Wonderful World” (**) is much better than his debut single but his acclaimed “soulful” voice sounds just a little too forced to be enjoyable. John Legend is much more the real thing but is let down by such a nothingess of a song on “Save Room” (**), and Meatloaf is the second person in three weeks to release a Celine Dion cover with “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now,” (**) an even more over-blown and theatrical version of the 1996 original.

The Pet Shop Boys last single “Minimal” was their best for quite some time but the melancholic balladry of “Numb” (**) leaves me a bit cold, despite most saying it’s the standout track from the Fundamental album. Lloyd Banks returns for more cliched hip-hop on “Hands Up” (*) and Coolio continues the recent trend of unlikely comebacks, returning from obscurity with the very dated “Gangsta Walk.” (*)

The X Factor...Again

Apologies for making a third post about The X Factor in less than two months but it is one of the few shows that I end up watching religiously, even though it infuriates me and entertains me in equal measures.

Tonight saw the first round of the live stages in a mammoth show that seemed to last about two years. The format is almost the same. 12 contestants. 12 karaoke songs. 12 utterly pointless and repetitive comments from the eejit. The only change is that, like the American Pop Idol, we now have musical guests of honour, Yes, if it wasn't bad enough that the finalists had to share their screentime with three bickering and petty judges, they now have to share it with popstars desperately plugging their latest single/album. I'm sure this show used to be about finding undiscovered talent?

Anyway, to the performances, which are all Motown based, a tenuous link to today's guest Lionel Richie. The younger Andy Abraham, Robert, goes first, belting out the very un-Motown All Night Long and he isn't bad. Neither is the bizarre looking Eton Road with My Girl. Thankfully the Brian Molko lookalike has put on some weight but he appears to be wearing a blouse and is stood about ten feet away from the other three members. They're all very likeable but it's hard to see who they're exactly going to appeal to.

Next is the first of the many sob-story contestants. Nikita thankfully fails to remind us about her late mother while singing, but still manages to mention it in her interview. Sympathy tactics? Of course not. She's not the first though and while her fun rendition of an uptempo Supremes-like song I've never heard of wasn't exactly earth-shattering, it'll be enough to get her through.

Ben, the obligatory rocker that Sharon always seems to favour, delivers Tracks of My Tears in a voice so growly he makes Kelly Jones sound like Joe Pasquale. It's utter rubbish of course. Just because you've got long hair and sing with your throat, it doesn't make you any more alternative than Chico. But Simon, him of the "I Loved Gareth Gates and Steve Brookstein" brigade, thinks it's the best performance in the entire history of the series. I think I enjoyed Addictive Ladies version of Superstar more.

The McDonald Brothers however, are even worse, delivering possibly the most sleep-inducing performance not only of the show, of the series, but of all time. For once, Simon gets it right. They were dreadful and should be in the bottom two tonight.

Ray, the cheeky chappie Scouser, tries hard but his performance of Ben is a bit flat and predictable. I still think he'll be in the final three though.

Dionne, the finalist with probably the least screentime so far, turns out to be one of the dark horses of the competition by being actually quite good. Unfortunately, black women just don't win these kinds of contests, no matter how superior they are to the others. Look at Brenda and Maria last year.

The Unconventionals, the rather sinister looking six-piece, perform what is probably the most shambolic display of vocal ability on Dancing In The Street, with every member singing louder and louder in an effort to be seen as the biggest star. It is pretty hideous, but it says a lot when it's not the worst performance of the night.

Ashley, the Sideshow Bob lookalike, isn't much better. He does have the most distinctive voice in the competition. Unfortunately, that distinctive voice is the sound of someone trying to sing while yawning. Again, just because he's got unusual hair, it doesn't mean he's any more interesting a performer.

Kerry, the former Song For Europe entrant and The Book Group actress keeps on telling us how she's so relieved to finally get her big chance. Hmm. Her voice is pleasant enough and her performance is the most composed and effortless of the night, but you get the feeling that's as good as she can get.

The awfully-titled 4Sure deliver a slick if a little over-rehearsed What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted. They're the best group in the competition vocally, but it's nothing you haven't seen before and I'll be surprised if they go much further than last year's similarly titled 4tune.

The last performance is by far and away the best. When you watch the US Idol shows, you realise that most of our winners wouldn't make it through the first round across the Atlantic. But Leona is in a different league, and even though she is a bit shaky, her I'll Be There rendition is good enough to be up there with the Fantasias and Kelly Clarksons of this world. If there was any justice in the fickle world of pop talent contests, she would walk it. But we all know she won't.

So to the painfully drawn out results show. And amazingly, the McDonald Brothers get through. I've an awful feeling they're going to appeal to the same demographic as the almost as dull Journey South did last year. Robert undoes all his good work before by proving to be an utter tosser, doing a lap of honour around the stage and picking his mentor Sharon, who does not look amused, up off the ground.

Not surprisingly, it's poor Dionne, one of the better performers of the night, who ends up in the bottom two. I say not surprisingly as she's one of the few not to have shamelessly banged on about a sob story and so therefore, she hasn't had anywhere near the same exposure as the other emotional blackmailers. The Unconventionals join her which is also a shame as they may have been pretty awful but at least they looked like they were having fun. The singing duel-off is completely pointless as Simon, the only mentor without an act in the bottom two, has already made clear which act he prefers, and so it is that Dionne sees another day. I think the needs to think of a sob story and quick.

Proper Bo

So Bo Selecta, probably the most "love it or hate it" comedy show of recent years returned last night. I loved the first two series which were original, mischievous and often laugh out loud funny. But hated the third which disappeared up its own arse and last year's god-awful spin-off "A Bear's Tale."

If you've never seen it, it's a rather hard show to describe. The show mainly consists of intentionally wildly inaccurate impersonations of celebrities using rubber face masks and Jack Duckworth-style glasses. Hence Marilyn Manson is portrayed as an upper-class aristocrat, Michael Jackson as a foul-mouthed bad-ass and Britney Spears as an ale-swilling Northern lass.

Luckily, Leigh Francis has finally realised that it's these rubber masks that make the show so hilarious and so his other rather pitiful characters, Keith Lemon and the cringeworthy The Bear were thankfully limited to just a few painful minutes screentime in the first episode.

There was nothing as genius as Trisha "when I say rice, you say and pea," Goddard, arguably his funniest creation, but the Pete Doherty biscuit addiction sketch was inspired, Mel B was still as brilliantly offensive as ever and thanks to the addition of his wife/sister, I actually found Avid Merrion funny again. Think it's a time to give Craig David a rest though.

Films I've Seen This Week

The History Boys, (**) based on the Alan Bennett play, is an early front-runner for next year's Oscars. And while in some respects, I can see why, I'm afraid this film really wasn't for me.

The barely-existent plot centres around eight grammar school boys on their journey to get accepted to Oxford University in the 1980s.

The adult performances are excellent. Richard Griffiths as the eccentric liberal Hector who has a penchant for fondling his pupils, Frances De La Tour as the wise Mrs Lintott and Clive Merrison as the highly-strung headmaster are all worthy of any Oscar talk.

But because the script is so wordy, the students' dialogue is so staged and 90% of the film takes place in the same classroom, you feel like you're watching a play being filmed rather than an actual movie.

The student characters, who I assume we're meant to love, are also highly irritating, bursting into impromptu songs, skits and poetry readings every five minutes. Nothing they say or do seems real and in the end, you don't particularly care about the outcome.

Just Like Heaven (**) is a total contrast. Light, frothy and completely ridiculous. Gardener David (Mark Ruffalo) starts to see visions of a young woman when he moves into a new apartment. Thinking he's insane, he then finds out it's the spirit of Elizabeth (Reese Witherspoon), a hot-shot doctor who fell into a coma after being injured in a car crash. After finding out her life support machine is soon to be switched off, with the help of David, she must find a way to save her own life.

Witherspoon and Ruffalo are usually brilliant in everything they do, but here it feels like they're coasting along, almost embarrassed to be in a movie with such a ludicrous premise. Napoleon Dynamite's Jon Heder is also wasted as a psychic slacker and the ending is cornier than a bowl of corn flakes. After Witherspoon's Oscar triumph, I don't think we'll be seeing her in anything as fluffy as this for a while.

When A Stranger Calls (*) has to be the lamest excuse for a horror movie I've ever seen. Schoolgirl Jill (Camilla Belle) is babysitting at a rather unique lakeside mansion when she starts to receive disturbing phone calls from a mystery man. And that is it!

Apart from a few insignificant deaths, the whole film revolves around Jill answering the phone, being scared for a few minutes, walking slowly down a hallway and opening a door only to find there's no-one there. And this happens every five minutes. Any hope of there being a dramatic revelation at the end which will make the torturous previous 80 mins at least count for something (e.g. who is the caller? why is he targeting Jill?) are shattered when you find out that the killer is a completely random guy who has no motive whatsoever. Utterly pointless. An episode of Where The Heart Is will give you more frights.

This Week's Singles

In an extremely poor week for singles, it's only two re-releases that are worthy of any attention.

Firstly, Mercury Music Prize nominees Hot Chip with "Over and Over." (****) Ignored first time around , it now seems to be a staple of the music channels thanks to its genius green screen video which is just as fun as the record. Combining electro-pop, guitar solos, an eye test recital and lyrics about monkeys with miniature cymbals, it is a bizarre but completely infectious record which will hopefully chart a lot higher this time around.

And secondly, Corinne Bailey Rae with the lovely "Like A Star." (***) It's becoming the norm to criticise Rae in the same way Dido was for being too "coffee-table", which is rather unfair in my opinion, and seems to only be happening because she's actually selling records. Put Your Records On became irritating due to overplay, but this and her last single have both been lovely, effortless, chillout soul. It does sound out of place in the middle of October though.

Blazin Squad seem to have more lives than a cat. Despite selling zero albums, losing virtually all their members and and indeed their most high-profile, Kenzie, they're back, with a more "mature" i.e. (less chav) sound for what will be their third album. There's only four of them now, and while "All Night Long" (**) is pleasant enough watered-down R&B similar to Craig David's recent stuff, it's not going to be enough to make anybody pay attention.

The Beatfreakz do the usual thing that most novelty dance acts do and release a record almost exactly the same as your first with "Superfreak" (*), Luther Vandross releases his first post-humous single with "Shine." (**) Hopefully that will be it and the record company won't try and do a Tupac and milk all his unheard, "wasn't good enough to be released when he was around" material for all they can, and The Webb Sisters release more MOR country-rock with their second single "Still The Only One", (***) which will fill The Corrs-shaped voice nicely enough for now.

Worst single of the week, and unfortunately, probably the biggest contender for #1 next week is the hideously overblown "Welcome To The Black Parade" (no stars) by the woeful My Chemical Romance. I know this is probably an unpopular opinion at the moment but has there ever been a more contrived music genre than emo?

Why Am I Still Watching It?

So we're finally at the boot camp stages on The X Factor after what seems like months and months of the most over-produced audition footage in history. The two Saturday shows saw Simon, Sharon and the eejit whittle down their mostly average contestants to just eight for next week's final selection process.

You'd think that after seeing every contestant first time round, we'd be spared hearing the sob-stories again. But no, at every opportunity, the repetitive Kate Thornton narration reminded us how so-and-so had fought such adversity to be there. Now I do feel sorry for the people like the lady caught up in the bomb blast, the young girl whose mother died, the lady who broke their back and admire them for getting on with their lives. But that's totally irrelevant to what the show is supposed to be about. It's not supposed to be a Pride Of Britain Awards musical.

I'm sure it's not them. I'm sure it's the producers coaxing them into revealing every detail of their personal tragedy in order to create the "human interest" angle. But they really are made to look like sad, rather manipulative individuals who will do anything to get to the next round. You end up sitting there shouting "Have a bit of self-respect for yourself. Get through on your own merit." The thing is, most of the sob-story contestants are actually quite good. But because of their constant sympathy vote tactics, you lose any sympathy you may have had.

Anyway, the twenty-four left, are on the whole, a rather uninspiring bunch.

Simon's got the under 25s and hasn't done himself any favours at all by letting nervous schoolboy Shaun in. Nothing against him personally as he seems like a very nice lad. But it's ridiculous that he made it through to the second round, let alone the final eight. Yes, I'm sure a lot of mums and grandmas will think he's adorable but if that's the basis that someone can get through, then they might as well forget about the singing side and just turn the whole charade into a cutest baby contest.

Ashley, the Macy Gray lookalike, has an unusual voice but so does Janet Street Porter and I wouldn't want to hear her belt out a quite frankly hideous version of Be My Baby either. The only ones to have made any impression on me was Raymond, the chirpy Scouser who used to be in Brookside, who is actually very good and Leona, a Javine lookalike who's probably the best singer left in the competition. The rest are non-descript and I'll be amazed if any of them get through due to the fact they haven't been given more than ten seconds airtime between them.

Sharon did really well with the over 25s last year (who would have thought Chico would have gone on to have a #1?) but it looks like she might have her work cut out this year. The eight left are a mixture of carbon-copy Rowettas, Andy Abrahams and Marias. All very talented but nothing to get too excited about. The only interesting thing will be to see how far Kerry gets. Either way, Sharon can't win. Put her through and she'll be accused of tokenism. Send her home and she'll be accused of discrimination.

The eejit managed to bring someone even more unlikeable than him, Kian from Westlife, to help him choose his final eight. Not surprisingly, it was mostly dated boybands that got picked. Avenue, we already know get chucked out for already having a lucrative management deal, Eton Road, who have a skeletal Brian Molko lookalike as their frontman and the imaginatively titled McDonald Brothers, who are basically a carbon copy Journey South. My favourite at the moment is the cute and cutely-named Dolly Rockers, who aren't exactly the greatest singers in the world but have a fun and down to earth pre-fame Spice Girls look about them. I also liked Identical, who may have only been one step up from The Cheeky Girls but looked like they were enjoying themselves and were the most entertaining out of the whole bunch. Of course they weren't bland enough and so didn't make it.

So it doesn't look like we're going to get a Will Young out of this series. Or even a Jessica Garlick. But despite every brain cell telling me it's cynical, contrived rubbish, I'll still be watching it every Saturday. It's just too addictive to ignore.