Archive for the ‘Reality TV’ Category

I’ve been listening to Leona Lewis’s brand new album Echo today – it’s breathtakingly brilliant. It’s got a more upbeat, contemporary sound than her debut but there are some of her signature ballads too. Her version of Oasis’s Stop Crying Your Heart Out is up there with her unbeatable cover of Run. Bless you Leona, long may your sounds echo.

Her album comes hot on the heels of the recent debut albums by Cheryl Cole and Alexandra Burke. The success of all three of these albums reflect how brilliant they are. Respect to Simon Cowell and his genre which gives these national treasures a break, where others would slam the door in their faces.

It’s amazing just how wrong miserable old snobs like Sting are, isn’t it?

I see that old eco-hypocrite Sting has had his second pop in recent weeks at The X Factor.

“I am sorry but none of those kids are going to go anywhere, and I say that sadly,” begins the 58-year-old.

Don’t be sad, Sting. Leona Lewis is a multi-platinum selling artist, a regular Brit and Grammy nominee who has broken numerous records worldwide and sold over 6.5 million albums. You might also like to check the sales figures of Cheryl Cole, Kelly Clarkson, Alexandra Burke, G4, Girls Aloud, Will Young and others.

He continues: “I tried to keep an open mind, but basically I was looking at televised karaoke where they conform to stereo-types.”

Rich coming from the man whose bland white-reggae songs are almost impossible to differentiate from one another.

“You have judges who have no recognisable talent apart from self-promotion.”

He says desperately trying to catch the headlines to, erm, promote his new album (while praying it isn’t outsold by Cheryl Cole’s).

He concludes: “I am surrounded by people who are not afraid to tell me I am a complete twat.”

I bet.

You might remember that last weekend I wrote about the X Factor Creeps, who are always getting snotty about how bad they think The X Factor is – even though they watch it every week.

Writer Philip Norman is proving to be a classic example of this species. He watches The X Factor every week (in his leisure time, not for work) and then whines about how much he hates himself for it.  At the beginning of October he wrote in The Independent about how cheesed off he was with the “cruelty” of The X Factor. His charge of cruelty is hysterical indeed, and hypocritical too coming from a man who dubs many of the contestants as “borderline special needs”.

Still, seeing as he hates the show so much he would have stopped watching, right? No, because over a month on he is still watching and still coming out with more snobby crap about the show – this time in the Daily Mail. He describes The X Factor as “a theatre of cruelty”, “a torture chamber” and – astonishing this one coming from a Daily Mail writer – full of “voyeuristic cruelty”.

He doesn’t like the opening auditions, he objects to the judges’ houses stage, he doesn’t like the live shows. He doesn’t like the way the judges bicker with each other,  nor how they build-up the tension when announcing which acts are through to the next round. He doesn’t like the results show being moved to Sunday. He doesn’t like most of the acts, considering even those who have won the show to be “mediocrities”.

Why does he keep watching?

No seriously, why? He was appalled by the way Danni Minogue joked with Danyl Johnson about press reports of his bisexuality. (A Daily Mail journalist taking the moral high ground on the privacy of a celebrity who has had same-sex relationships!) Absurdly, he also argues that to give John and Edward the fame they have worked so hard for would be “cruelty on a truly hideous scale” for them. It really seems to hurt some journalists to see others gain the fame they believe should be theirs.

On and on he watches this show which he considers so cruel. “I don’t like what it says about me,” he says of his continued viewing. What a humourless bore he seems. If you don’t like The X Factor then just stop watching, or at least spare us your self-loathing, patronising verdicts on a show that makes many of us very happy thank you!

I thought Simon Cowell was on great form last night, with his tea-with-your-mother comparison. Looking forward to tonight! Stacey to win (or otherwise Jamie please).

I was at a gig in London last night (Fightstar, fact fans – they were amazingly good) so I have yet to watch last night’s X Factor. I have it on Sky+ and I plan to start watching it early this evening so it flows seamlessly into the tonight’s live results show. Lots of clock-watching going on as a result.

I’m so excited. This year’s X Factor has been amazing, up there with my other favourite reality show installments: Pop Idol series 1, Big Brother series 3, Any Dream Will Do and X Factor series 1. The changes Simon Cowell made to the format were controversial at first but are working beautifully, and this year’s finals feature the most interesting, talented bunch of contestants ever. There is no three-act configuration for the final that would not be engrossing.

The only thing I’ve not enjoyed is the growing volume (thanks mainly to rise of Twitter) of the X Factor creeps (XFCs). These are the people who profess to dislike the show but tune-in every weekend regardless. As if this wasn’t strange enough, they then delude themselves that we’re just dying for them to come and tell us how stupid they think the programme is. Every Saturday and Sunday night Twitter and Facebook feeds quickly clog up with comments about how the contestants are all dumb, the whole thing is fixed, Cheryl’s a chav, the judges only pretend to bicker, oh the whole thing is so stupid, yadda yadda yadda…

I get that The X Factor isn’t to everyone’s taste. But if XFCs hate it so much then why do they keep tuning in just to sneer at it? Have they really nothing better to do? I don’t like rugby, so I don’t watch it. I’ve never found equations like that particularly challenging to get my head round. XFCs, though, tune in to the live shows every week without fail and then rush to the internet to tell us how stupid they found the whole thing.

If you hate The X Factor then please just don’t watch it. Or if you’ve really nothing better to do each weekend than watch television shows that you hate then at least spare us your snobby commentary. It doesn’t make you sound clever, it makes you sound lonely and creepy. Listening to it is akin to tucking in to the most beautiful tub of ice cream while someone sits next to you reading out the ingredients in condescending monotone. Yes, I know lots of chemicals go into making ice cream (my favourite X Factor accompaniment, fact fans – Chocolate Macadamia please) but I’d quite like to just enjoy eating it all the same, please.

And yes I know there’s a whole lot more than meets the eye to shows like the X Factor, but just for a few hours each weekend I really love switching off from all the cynicism of the world and enjoying a bit of innocent, bubbly entertainment. If XFCs really are that offended by all the fun, ambition, pop gold, dreams, tears and laughter of The X Factor then I suggest they lighten-up or button up. Or switch over – I’m sure there’s some documentary about a clever but depressed Guatemalan poet or something to watch.

In happier news, despite there being so many likeable and talented acts this year, I’ve had a stand out favourite since the opening audition phase who seems to be going strong. It’s not going to be a huge surprise to you who I am referring to.

Can you guess who it is yet?

It’s a big weekend for three of the people I’ve written biographies of, with questions hanging over each.

Simon Cowell has flu! Will he or won’t he be well enough appear on the first live show of this year’s X Factor?
(He will.)

Amy Winehouse might be back in rehab! Will she fulfil her booking to appear as a backing singer on Strictly Come Dancing on Saturday?
(Bookies give 6/4 that she won’t. But she will.)

Alexandra Burke is to sing Bad Boys on the Sunday night X Factor results show! How will she do?
(She’ll blow the blimming roof off.)

PS – I did my slot on BBC Radio London this morning. If you’re interested it is on Listen Again here. I am 1.32 in.

PPS – You can also check me out on Monday’s BBC Berkshire breakfast show talking about the Danni/Danyl controversy here, around 2.09 in.

cowcov1It was good to see my Simon Cowell biography at number 23 in my local WH Smiths store chart today. I was – pleasantly – surprised because it is not officially published until September, as X Factor fever hots up and we start the big promo campaign for the book.

I’d like to thank everybody who helped with the book, including the numerous people I interviewed for it. I’m grateful to you all.

Meanwhile, here is a sneak preview of the introduction to the book:

‘Excuse me,’ said the middle-aged diner in the American restaurant as he approached a famous fellow diner’s table, ‘if I pay you a hundred thousand dollars, will you stand in our bedroom and insult me as I make love to my wife?’ This is not the sort of request most people would expect to receive from a stranger, but then Simon Cowell is not like most people.

He has become globally recognized for the frank verdicts he delivers to contestants on televison talent shows like The X Factor and American Idol, so much so that ‘Cowell’ has become a byword for blunt honesty. Thanks to the success of these shows and some of the artists they have launched, he has also become incredibly rich, and his ambition shows no sign of abating. When asked what he wants most in the world, he said with characteristic candour: ‘Money. As much money as I can get my hands on.’ He’s getting his hands on plenty: his personal fortune is estimated to be in excess of £100 million.

Cowell’s ascent to such heady heights has taken an unlikely route. His journey to the top of the celebrity tree is in stark contrast to those of the numerous well-known sports stars who spent their childhoods slaving away to perfect their technique, or the actors and singers who endured humourless years being coached by bossy teachers at stage school and pushy parents at home. These budding stars were led to believe that years of exhausting hard work was the only way to achieve those two prized commodities: fame and fortune.

Neither does Cowell’s life follow the familiar entrepreneurial narrative of the kid from the impoverished background whose hunger drove him to extraordinary business success.

Fame came late and suddenly to Cowell. He was unknown at forty-two, nationally infamous by the time he turned forty-three and internationally famous only a few years later. Prior to that he had four decades during which there were only occasional clues as to what the future held. He had a joyful childhood, which he spent rebelling at school and playing ever more devious and hilarious practical jokes at home. His was a happy household that echoed with laughter, and his family was financially comfortable, so Cowell couldn’t be said to have an inherent hunger for wealth.

Professionally, Cowell’s career started slowly. In his twenties he had some success in the music business and lapped up the glamorous perks and lifestyle that came with it. But then he lost everything, and at thirty was forced, rather ignominiously, to move back to his parents’ home. What spurred him on, waking up under his parents’ roof, to become one of the most driven, successful and famous men on the planet? The man named, in a 2008 poll of children, as the most famous person in the world, finishing ahead of even the Queen and God? Where did he derive the confidence to be so unflinchingly frank on television? And what is the truth about Cowell’s much-speculated-upon love life?

Cowell is a man of paradoxes: a straight-talking judge with a cruel tongue but a kind heart. A wealthy man from comfortable stock, he nonetheless has the common touch and is unflinchingly generous. Handsome and charismatic, only one of his romantic relationships has lasted longer than a few years.

X Factor finalist Niki Evans, one of many contestants interviewed for this book, saw some of Cowell’s contrasts close-up: ‘He’s a loveable rogue,’ she smiles. ‘He’s a mummy’s boy, but very ruthless. If he wants something he’ll get it. Make no mistake about that. He’s a hard man with a heart, that’s what he is. People will be shocked to learn about the real Simon Cowell.’

Here is his story…

You can buy it here.

Welcome to the blogosphere, CST.

These are busy times for me (not least putting the finishing touches to this little baby) but I will be back very soon with a proper post. I’m attending an event on Friday which I am expecting to be fertile ground for an Oy Va Goy special. So watch this space.

Meanwhile, Facebook users might like to join my ever-growing group I’m British And I Love Israel. See you there.

This week I am completing the writing of my biography of Simon Cowell. As regular readers will know I’m an admirer of Cowell and it’s been a joy to write about him. I’m really pleased with the book.

simon-cowell-cover-concept31-copy1

UK-based readers will probably remember X Factor contestant Chico Slimani. For people who do not, he is a former – very cheesy – contestant on the reality talent show The X Factor. His catchphrase was: “It’s Chico time!”

What’s he up to now, I hear you cry! Well, his Facebook status reveals that he is writing a “freedom song” with two friends. The song is, he tells us: “about the dying children of Gazza”.

Interesting! Do we think that he is writing a song about the Gaza conflict but isn’t quite as clued up as he thinks he is? Or could it be that Paul Gascoigne’s children are dropping like flies and Chico wanted to offer his own musical tribute?

Looking forward to it either way!

chico

I haven’t been watching Strictly Come Dancing at all. But I know that Rachel Stevens is in tonight’s final. I did a big feature with her a couple of years ago. I spent the best part of three days with her and she was absolutely wonderful throughout. We gossiped about Busted and Lemar backstage at Saturday Night With Ant & Dec, we strolled from bar to bar in Soho and giggled as a series of men more or less fell at her feet, we discussed which Arsenal players we fancied and we tittered about her pointy nipples. Oh yes, we even managed to squeeze in an interview and photo-shoot.

She’s lovely and I really hope she wins. I might even tune in!


I see the haggard hypocrite that is Elton John has slagged off The X Factor yet again. Specifically, he said he would rather get his “cock bitten off by an Alsatian” than watch the show.

Firstly, way TMI, Elton. Secondly, leave the animals out of it you sick fuck. Thirdly, just shut-up generally. I haven’t forgotten how you slagged off American Idol for being “racist”, and Pop Idol as “fucking cruel”, yet gleefully agreed to let both shows run ‘Elton John theme weeks’ which were big moneyspinners for you.

Meanwhile, I see that Brian Friedman is not sure whether he’ll return for the next series of the X Factor. I hope he doesn’t. There’s something creepy about him.

And calm.

I see that the anti-Jade Goody bandwagon can’t leave her alone even as she faces the horrors of cancer. Just as they pathetically tried to dub her a racist after Celebrity Big Brother, they are now trying to smear her as homophobic. Oh you sad bunch.

Amy Lamé – you should hang your head in shame.

Take That’s Gary Barlow is the latest to hop aboard the aforementioned Britney-bashing bandwagon. He has criticised her for seemingly miming on the X Factor. Yeah and I bet Take That have literally never mimed have they? I normally love you, Gary, but put a sock in it you hypocrite.

In semi-related news, my mate Bob randomly – but welcomely! – photoshopped me into Take That the other day!

I’ve had a good chuckle at the coverage of Britney Spears’s wonderful whirlwind visit to London. Particularly cacklesome is the reported disappointment that she ‘only performed for four minutes’ on the X Factor. Come off it, guest artists only ever perform one song on the X Factor, and how many pop songs are longer than four minutes?

Funnier still is the supposed shock that Britney didn’t specifically mention any X Factor contestants during her brief post-song chat with Dermot. Apparently an X Factor insider told The Sun: ‘Everyone was stunned that she hadn’t watched the show. There’s a TV in her dressing room.’

Oh I bet they were STUNNED! I bet they expected her to have spent the last three weeks getting tapes of the show flown to the US so she could swot up on the merits of Diana v Alexandra!

I watch the show every week, and I’ve got less and less to say about this year’s less than inspiring crop. But I do think that some of the online abuse that Eoghan Quigg is receiving is getting out of hand. True, if he wants fame he’s going to have to deal with unpleasant moments, but when its people hiding behind the anonymity of the web to hurl abuse at him, that gets horribly close to bullying.

He’s not my cup of tea either but come on, he hasn’t killed anyone.

I was glad to see Rachel Hylton leave the X Factor on Saturday. She’d started to become a real bore and she didn’t even seem to want to be there.

I’m surprised there hasn’t been more of a fuss about her murky past. I didn’t like Daniel Evans but the abuse the poor guy got for the ‘crime’ of mourning his wife was astonishing. Particularly compared to the absolute lack of abuse that Hylton got for her genuine crimes.

So let’s get this straight, X Factor fans. Mourning your wife = we hate you, you’re evil! Mugging a pensioner = well, we mustn’t judge!

Looking forward to Saturday.

© Copyright Chas Newkey-Burden. All Rights Reserved. Thanks to Becoming Brighter.