X Factor and Rage Against the Machine

I watched X Factor. I did. I watched two or three episodes. If am honest, I watched it to see if Cheryls hair would become sentient, and start a revolution live on ITV.

The kids involved, were pretty much indistinguishable from each other. Pretty, barely pubescent, clean shaven youths, interpreting modern ‘classics’, by using so much of their vocal range on each phrase-they rendered the tunes they were warbling as barely identifiable. Songs that tried to convey ‘real emotion’, but were served up as warm platitude lasagne(line stolen, blatantly plagiarised, and can’t remember who from!)

I quite liked the pantomime of the judges arguing, and the clear difference between the budgets of the stylists for the contestants(New Look, Top Shop) and the judges(including that bizarre dress with the food processor wheels as breast plates from David Korma). If am honest, the cynical twitterthon which ran alongside each episode, made it hysterical viewing.

I get people are upset by Cowells assumption that he owns the christmas No.1 spot. The man doesn’t give a shit about music, but has cornered the market in creating event television out of this mediocre dross, and I get why people are furious that he assumes that the kids he exploits, are entitled to the number on spot.

But I won’t be buying Rage Against the Machines record. Mainly because I can’t stand Rage Against the Machine, but also because I can’t see why I would want to deprive this kid of his number one spot.

The kid that won, did not win a million quid. He won a recording deal that cost a million quid, and this money is not the ticket to a life of celebrity and luxury.

We all know he isn’t talented enough to become the big star, with the bright future, that he has been promised live on television. The million quid he has been ‘given’ is a loan, most of which has already been spent on the expensive 30 second spots, the tour, the distribution, the manufacture, and the production of this record. With a hefty cut for Monsieur Cowell and his cynical cronies. He will get a salary for a few weeks, and use of a luxury flat, and by mid 2010, you will struggle to recall his name, as he wanders into his local job centre. His record company will  make money, as will his ‘agent’, his ‘manager’, his stylists, the distributors, the TV programmes he appears on, even the people who supply the clothes his advance pays for.

All the costs incurred by this record will be borne by this kid, and not by Cowell or the television franchise that has grossed tens of millions of pounds this series.

If there is anything left over once everyone has taken his cut, he may get something. If his record grosses over £1million. Unlikely though.

I say fuck it.  I won’t be buying Rage Against the Machine, in an effort to prevent this kid getting to No.1.

If his record gets to number 1, he gets a brief moment in the sun. If he doesn’t, Cowell doesn’t lose. He has made enough money from the phone in lines, competitions, and advertising, that the sales of the record are a cherry on a very lucrative cake. He doesn’t care if this kid gets to No.1 or not. I hope I have him all wrong, and he doesn’t have to be reminded of his name this time next year, when he shows up on X Factor.

So yeah, fuck it. Let the kid have his moment. The cynical marketing machine that created him, exploited him and his family, and gave him expectations that can’t be fulfilled=causes me rage, but I won’t be buying someone else record, so I can Rage Against the Machine.